He eyes me skeptically. “I have a hard time believing that.”
“What have I done since meeting you that has you even contemplating that I might be more?”
He raises his brows. “Handcuffs?”
I groan. I forgot about that shit. “I’d conveniently blocked that outta my mind. Thanks for reminding me.”
He winks. “Orange?” He gestures towards the shelves on the far wall. “Is this a tribute to your alma mater?”
I screw up my face. “Umm…that’s not Tennessee orange.”
He holds up a hand. “Sorry!” He thumps his chest. “Man remember? Orange is orange.”
“It’s bright and cheery and the complete opposite of The House.” My living room’s a combination of modern and Victorian. Everything is white with splashes of orange and peach. Warm, autumny, and vibrant. I love my cottage.
“Is that why you decorated it this way?” His eyes linger on one of the walls that is filled with hats. I collect them and as the collection grew to so many, I had a special full-length wall shelf built to display them in my living room. Some are so old I’m afraid to touch them in fear that they’ll disintegrate in my hands. “Because it’s different than Sin?
My eyes meet his. I shrug as I stuff another dumpling in my mouth so that I don’t blurt out something I might regret later.
He lets it go.
“I guess your business degree comes in handy running The House?”
“Just a tad.”
He twists on the sofa, one knee bent, his plate resting on his thickly muscled thigh, and his arm stretches out across the back of the sofa. “Merrick and Colt told me you’re in charge of The House.”
“I’m in charge of the toy part. Merrick really runs the bar.” I stiffen as his fingers start making swirling motions on the back of my neck. “Colt does whatever he can when he’s around.”
“You like it?” He lowers his hand, lifts his plate, and takes another huge bite of his noodles but his gaze lingers on my face.
“Like what?” I ask almost breathlessly and wait as he finishes up his last bite.
“What you do?”
My face lights up and I know it. “I like that it’s different. That it’s a bit edgy. That it’s not your typical every day boring kinda job.”
He considers me through narrowed eyes. “When I first saw you I would have never taken you for the edgy type.”
“I’m not. The House just does something to me. Gives me a place where I can be something other than my boring self.”
“You’re far from boring, Angel.”
I just give him a look. “So you haven’t been in The House yet, have you?” I say it as if it’s the only house in town and I know that’s how it sounds and that’s exactly how I feel.
“Not yet.” His gaze is intense as he stares over at me. “According to your brothers I’m missing out.”
“You should stop in,” I say pointing at him with my chopsticks. “The shop is upstairs. The main floor is a quiet, sensual environment with a bar called Paradiso, lounges, and a cigar bar.” I lift another dumpling to my mouth. After I chew and swallow, I add, “A little crazy.”
“So no whips and chains?” he asks with a grin, his eyes flashing humorously.
His sexy smile makes my breath stop. A flutter starts in my stomach. “I didn’t say that,” I retort with my mouth kicking up at the corners.
He laughs and we sit and talk for the next half hour or so before settling back and finishing our meal. We watch each other closely without speaking.
I’m the one that finally breaks the easy silence. “I love it. It’s my life. I live, breathe, sleep, and eat the House of Sin.”
He gets this weird look on his face and the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. Goose bumps break out all over my body. I shiver. He sees it. I can tell by the way his eyes dilate and glow in the firelight.
“Maybe I can help give you something else to live, breathe, sleep, and eat.”
My air hisses out at the dark promise in his eyes. The meaning of his words couldn’t be any clearer, so I quickly change the subject of our conversation. “Romantic comedy. I like romantic comedies.”
I don’t know why I tried to kid myself. I don’t know why I thought I’d be safe from him. I thought it because my crazy, asshole of an ex-boyfriend had just attacked me. I thought I would be strong enough to control my attraction and intense desire for the sheriff or that I’d be able to just pretend I didn’t want him. I force a breath deep into my lungs, which does very little at calming my nerves, so I do it again and his sexy smile seems to broaden at my agitation. His matching dimples deepen, my heart beats faster, my pussy grows wetter, and everything’s just more. Yep. That’s the only word I can use to describe everything. M-O-R-E. More.
“I had no doubts.”
“Uh…” I don’t move when he reaches over removing the plate and chopsticks from my useless hands. “I’m not sure…”
“I like you, Angel.”
My body stills and I very slowly lift my eyes and whisper, “You like me?” I can’t help but echo his words, trying hard not to read more into his words then he truly meant.
“Yeah, I like you,” he repeats in a matching whisper moving a tad closer.
“Like, like me or LIKE, like me?” I glance down at my clasped hands after the words pass my lips.
He props his index finger beneath my chin, tipping my head back a bit so he can capture my gaze completely. “LIKE, like.” He copies with a crooked grin, his eyes taking on a warm glow. “You have a problem with that?”
I move my head unhurriedly back and forth dislodging his finger. “No.” I lick my bottom lip nervously. “But you don’t really know me.”
“That’s what this is all about, Angel, getting to know you.” His hand comes to my jaw and his arm goes around me, tight, pulling me closer and he whispers, “I know I like what I know so far. So unless you’re doing something extra freaky that I don’t know about, we’ll be alright.” His finger travels from my jaw and traces the line of my throat until his finger hits the neck of my shirt and stops. “Are you doing okay?”
“I’m fine.”
“You keep using the word fine.” He twists further facing me fully.
“That’s because I am fine.” He’s starting to irritate me with his psychoanalysis, which isn’t good. Why do I need to know anything more? I lift a brow. “You gotta problem with that?”
“You’re gonna be the death of me, Angel.” He leans forward placing a quick kiss on my lips. “I like your house. It’s cozy.”
I blink at his abrupt change in topic, then lift my brow again. “You seem to like a lot of things, Cowboy.” I throw his words right back at him.
“Touché.” He throws back his head laughing. “You want me to list them?” He reaches out and lays a finger on my lips, not moving them, just looking. “I like your smart ass mouth, Angel.” His finger begins a slow, soft move back and forth over my lower lip and he watches its path. A feather light touch that sends tingles to my scalp. My mouth falls open under his touch and quick puffs of air push past my lips and over his fingertip. As my mouth opens, he takes advantage by sliding his finger between my lips to touch my tongue.
Shock wars with desire at his intrusion. I try to pull back but he won’t allow it. His finger hooks around my bottom row of teeth and he holds on. Scooting even closer, he presses me into the corner where I’m trapped as he slowly slides his finger from my mouth scraping the rough pad over the bumpy edge of my teeth. His hand moves to just below my jaw. Not hard, but firm, and holds on.
“I’m not into that stuff, Cooper, and I know that you are.” I wave a hand dismissively, my nose wrinkling, making sure I emphasize the word stuff so that he understands exactly what I mean by stuff. “I’ve had enough to last me a lifetime.” With those words he releases my jaw and I can tell he does it reluctantly.
“And what stuff would that be, Angel?” His arms cross over his chest as he leans against the back
of the sofa waiting patiently for my explanation.
I avert my eyes again which seems as if I’ve been doing that a lot more lately too. “Being a slave and—and pain.”
“I believe you’re lying to yourself. I also believe you have ideas of me that you truly don’t know.” His eyes darken and his voice softens. “Angel, I don’t want a twenty-four/seven slave. I want a woman. I’m not going to complain if you want me to dominate you sexually, but it’s more than okay to be feisty everywhere else.”
I snort. “Sure, until I’m not submissive enough for you.”
He smiles, his head shaking back and forth as if to placate me which only manages to irritate me more. His thumb skims over my bottom lip. His eyes roam over my face. I bite down on my lip and inadvertently nip at the rough padding of his thumb and he groans. I gasp as his flavor hits the taste buds on the tip of my tongue making my mouth water and my womb clench.
“Your smart mouth gets the blood flowing straight to my cock. Turns me on to such an extent that I can barely zip up my fuckin’ jeans.” With those words he chuckles. “Do you have any idea just how painful it is to walk around with a raging hard-on all day long?”
I glance down at my lap, then back up at him with a raised brow. “I wouldn’t have the slightest idea.”
“And for that I will be forever grateful,” he replies wryly.
“And I don’t have a smart mouth.” I find myself leaning closer to him as I retort, mesmerized by his words, by the sound of his voice, by his touch.
His lips curl in the smallest of amused smiles. “Oh yeah you do.” And it’s a smile that means something important. He takes that opportunity to scoot closer, leaning over me, one hand to the back of the sofa, one hand around my neck, his face so close the tips of our noses touch, and my body fires up another notch.
“I do not, Cowboy.” My argument sounds as weak as my voice but I say it anyway because he gets my juices flowing.
He lets out a short laugh. “You do, Angel. So your smart mouth is as far from a turn off as you can get. If that’s what you thought was going to keep me away, you need to seriously rethink your strategy.” He looks smug. “’Cause this one’s fuckin’ backfiring big time.”
“I haven’t done any strategizing.” I immediately fire back.
He lifts a brow.
“I’ve barely said anything.”
His brow lifts even higher and the smile that I love spreads over his face making his dimples wink at me.
“I still don’t want that kind of relationship,” I repeat, lifting my eyes in time to catch the flash of blatant desire that glints in his. My nipples bead into tight points beneath my thin cotton T-shirt and my clit throbs and pulses with a deep-seated need for his touch.
“And exactly what kind of relationship would that be, Angel?”
“The kind where I don’t have any say.” I’m adamant with my answer. No hesitation. No faltering or stumbling. In that I know exactly what I want and what I don’t. "I can’t deal with that. Not again. It made those things seem like a lie."
“I’m not going to lie to you, Angel. I like control, but I’m not a sadist.” His hand sweeps along my jaw. “Does it bother you that I might want to dominate you in bed?”
I sit there staring at him. Does it bother me? The thought of him holding me down and having his way with me makes me grow wetter by the second. I want what he offers, but I’d wanted what Nate had offered too and that makes me question my judgment. Makes me question my ability to pick and choose. Unfortunately it’s too hard for me to say the words. I’m too afraid. Too afraid to give myself to someone only to be hurt. Indecision plagues me. I want, but I’m too afraid to take.
The image of what he looked like with another woman strapped to a table flashes through my mind. His hand turning her cheeks pink. The warmth that infuses my body with that image takes over, blinding me to everything around me.
I remember.
I remember what his body looked like naked, at least the parts that had been visible to me. An unmistakable lust fills me. It makes me want what he wants to give me.
Complete and utter freedom.
Freedom to just be.
To not have to think.
“I want to pin you down, yes.” His hands go to either side of my body as he rises up over me and I tremble as he effectively blocks any physical escape, even though it’s the furthest thing from my mind.
My eyes narrow.
“Restrain you so that I can do whatever the hell I want to do to you and so all you have to do is lay there and take it? Oh, yeah.”
And I thought I was hot before.
“Feel it? Yes.”
I grow hotter by the second as his gaze burns slowly down my body and back up to look into my eyes.
“Get it. Yes.”
My lips part, my tongue snakes out to moisten my dehydrated lips and his voice turns even more gravelly.
“Without you having to worry yourself silly about one damn thing.”
I feel my head nod showing him just how amenable I am to his suggestion.
“‘Cause I’ll give it to you.” He puts his hand over my heart and I know he can feel how hard it’s beating beneath my ribs.
“I’ll give you everything you want and need, and then some.” His mouth hovers over mine.
“You will?” I didn’t even realize I’d spoken the words out loud until I felt my lips moving against his.
“All you have to do is ask.”
Chapter Thirteen
A lady must hold herself above reproach
How can my breath not catch at the hard glint in his eyes? The seriousness of his expression catches me off guard.
Do I want that? Emotions knot my stomach into such a tight ball I can’t ignore them.
Do I want him to have control, no matter how little or for what purpose?
I want him. I want him desperately. Our short acquaintance leaves me aching. I think of him. Think of no one else but him. He makes me feel good about myself and he gives me permission to just be. It’s nice, but I still have to ask, “How can you say that?” My voice raw, unsteady. I draw in a labored breath.
He shifts his weight slightly, giving me a long, penetrating look. His chest rises when he inhales. At that moment I wished with everything I had that his shirt would magically disappear so I could see what lay beneath. “Because it’s true.”
“You’re a Dom, Cooper.” I know my argument’s weak even as it leaves my mouth. I bring it to his attention as if he doesn’t have a clue what the fuck he is. My chest constricts just looking at him. “Being a Dom is who you are. You won’t be satisfied with someone like me.” My mouth trembles as the words come out because I don’t want them to be true. “You’ll grow bored eventually in my little vanilla world.” I give a dismissive wave of my hand.
He sits silent for a long moment, his eyes searching mine. “No, Angel,” he replies brusquely. “I’m a man. Being a man is who I am. And as a man, I want to please my woman.” His voice like steel, his eyes fall to my mouth.
“Your woman?” Tears suddenly spring to my eyes and more warmth seeps into my skin heating my whole body. I blink rapidly to keep the tears right where they are. I have no desire to feel them sliding hotly down my cheeks.
“Yeah, my woman.” He says it like I should’ve known. “Since the moment you mouthed off in your jeep.” His gaze is fiercely intent. “That doesn’t make me any less in control.” His dark eyes narrow. “Doesn’t make me a slave to my emotions and desires. I’m still in control of my actions. And my ultimate goal no matter what role you think I’m playing at is to please you. Not fuck you over.”
I lay there on the sofa with my hands folded tightly in my lap, my heart fluttering uncontrollably in my chest, my breathing sporadic, my mind once again going a mile a minute.
“Do you get the difference, Angel?” His voice is husky and arousing to my ears.
I nod, deciding to push aside what’s happened in the past. I decide for the momen
t to forget the subtle fears that still lace many of the thoughts that run through my mind and only feel.
“Do you get the difference?” His eyes wander over my face as he waits for me to answer.
I nod again.
“I need to hear you say that you get the difference.” He brushes the tip of one of his fingers over the shell of my ear in a tender gesture as he waits. Patiently. No prodding. No campaigning for his side. He just waits as if he has all the time in the world. As if he knows my answer will be yes, so he has no need to push.
I look up at him. “I get it.” The words barely a breath puffed between my lips, but I say them none-the-less and he hears them. His chocolate eyes flash with desire. I know in the deepest, darkest recesses of my mind that if I give myself up to a man who knows the true meaning of submission, I’ll get everything that I need and he’ll get everything that he wants.
“Because you’re a little skittish about this Dom thing and can’t seem to get it out of your head, let’s make a rule.”
“Okay.”
“First, let’s agree on a safe word. Something you’ll remember.” His eyes turn serious. “I want you to always feel in control and safe with me, Angel.”
I don’t even hesitate. “Nate.” It’s the word that immediately pops into my head. He’s a bastard. I think it’s rather appropriate because I doubt I’ll call it out accidently in the throws of passion.
“For some reason I thought you were going say dickhead.”
“Uh-huh,” I breathe out on a chuckle. “’Cause if I ever get mad at you I might call you that and I would hate to give you mixed signals.” My smile is mischievous I know, my nervousness fading just a tad with each passing second.
“Knew you were a smart woman.” Cooper’s dimples pop. “I want you to only use it if you can’t take it anymore. Don’t use it just because you’re uncomfortable, or it’s hard.” His eyes flare with an intense heat when I raise my hand to trace tenderly along his jaw.
“I trust you, Cowboy.”
“So let’s get one thing perfectly clear.” He inches even closer bringing me into direct contact with his heat and it surrounds me in its tantalizing blanket and I see the spark that ignites his eyes and changes them to flash with that golden glow. “You don’t need to shy away from me, Angel. Touch me. I can’t wait to feel your soft little hands all over my body. I’ll let you know when you need to keep your hands to yourself so that I can focus solely on you. Don’t worry about that, darlin’.” He draws a sharp breath through his teeth. “Until then, I’m putty in your hands.” His nostrils flare, his eyes turn a deeper shade of brown, even more golden lights glint in their depths right before he captures my mouth in an open, hungry kiss.
When You Only Need To Ask (The House of Sin: The Beginning) Page 14
