by Lainey Reese
Leah locked her knees together. She still had more questions.
“Is that a strict rule?” she asked.
“What? Which part?”
“In the bedroom.” She smiled slowly then tucked the bottom hem of her borrowed T-shirt between her thighs. “Like, if I told you to get down on your knees and lick me right now? Would you do that?”
His eyes turned that dark blue. His smile faltered, replaced by something hungrier. More raw. “Are you ordering me to?”
“Not yet. So by in the bedroom then, you mean sexual situations only.”
His nod was sharp, tense. “Pretty much.”
“What about your other limits? You said last night they involved third parties.”
“I’m not into guys. I’m not into forced cuckolding.”
“What?”
He was back to smug again. Apparently he liked knowing more than her. Resolve made her spine stiffen. That situation wouldn’t last long. She might have to take a field trip on her own. Brush up on the basics. It never hurt a girl to know her opponent.
“Being made to watch while you bang someone else,” he explained.
She shook her head. “No, not for me.” This tenuous thing between them was entirely too…something to add more people. Special, she supposed. Exotic enough as it was.
“I’ve got some other things I won’t do too, but I have a suspicion they’re not going to come up. Or I’ll give you a red light if they do.” The tiniest hint of a patronizing tone slipped into his speech. He was so damn confidant.
But that didn’t keep the power away from her.
She flashed out a hand and sank her fingers into his tumbled hair. Pulling gently, then with crueler intent, she drank in the wince that tightened the skin around his eyes. The only thing better was the way they darkened and how he slicked his tongue over his smile. His shoulders bunched as he pressed his palms flat against the scuffed countertop.
“It’s strange,” she murmured. “Even hearing you say ‘red light’ makes me want to poke deeper. See what street that light’s parked at.”
He leaned toward her, with only the counter separating them. “I’d like to see you try.”
“Haven’t you learned not to dare me?”
His laugh spilled out rich and full. Real. No playacting. “I kind of liked the results last time.”
She narrowed her eyes. “Kind of?”
“Okay, immensely.” His eyelids drooped to half-mast then he tacked on a “Ma’am.”
Oh, there it was. That lovely, tingling rush of yes, more. She liked that entirely too much. “Come around here.”
He obeyed immediately, but every step was measured. Calculated. The bastard knew exactly what his body did to her.
When Mike was finally standing in front of her, she opened her knees. Slowly. She still held the hem of his T-shirt down over her pussy, where deep heat bloomed. Easing her heels over the rung of the stool, she slid forward on the seat. Her bare ass skipped along the leather.
“On your knees.” Her voice had gone husky, but she managed to keep it sharp. Cool.
He dropped and steadied his hands behind her knees.
She cracked his knuckles with a little pop. “Did I give you permission to touch me?”
“No, ma’am.” He slanted his gaze up at her. “Not yet.”
Leah couldn’t help but laugh. “No, not yet.” Her body was flickering to life, more every second. She lifted the T-shirt. “But now, Michael. Lick me. Make me come.”
Between being assigned to the 64th and his subsequent relocation, Mike hadn’t been in the cockpit of a jet for six weeks. Didn’t matter. Not right then. The rush of Leah’s demand and the sight of her pussy in full daylight hit him like the smack of adrenaline at take-off. The neatly trimmed triangle of hair hid so many secrets. Her excitement, however, was not one of them. Wetness glistened along the supple skin of her inner thighs.
He didn’t shake, didn’t fold—not under the rigors of combat. But her exposed cunt and soft command stripped the resilience from his body.
The linoleum of his kitchen floor was hard, cold, unyielding against his bare knees. He focused on that small bite of discomfort to keep his eagerness in check. She was open for him, offering him the taste he hadn’t been able to forget.
He nestled his mouth along the smooth hollow on the inside of her knee. A tingling thrill arrowed down his spine when she flinched, her exhalation already ragged. The tiny signs of her jacked arousal were enough to keep him calm and submissive. Anything she wanted, anything, as long as she doled out the quiet assurances that she was just as whacked-out greedy.
With his tongue, he traced the graceful line of her quads, stopping to re-wet his tongue three times. Each time he stayed put and paid extra attention to that swath of skin. Kissing. Opening his mouth. Scraping his teeth.
Leah had stayed motionless until then, when her hands scooped lightly over his shoulders. A gentle petting to start. Only as Mike eased nearer to her center did her caresses turn to keen, deep strokes. The nubs of her fingernails raced shivers up his nape, into his hair, peppering goose bumps over his scalp.
The tendons along her inner thighs were as taut as cables. He focused on just one, to start. One perfect leg. He slid his hands over and around the resilient muscle, pulling the skin until it stretched tight. That’s where he placed his mouth. No gentle caress of tongue and teeth—not this time. He sucked hard.
Leah tensed on a gasp. Her fingertips became dull daggers needling the caps of his shoulders.
Mike kept that pressure steady, sucking, taking more of her flesh into his mouth. She relented first, when two rough hands took hold of his ears. She wrenched his face to look upward.
“What did I tell you to do, pretty boy?”
“Make you come.”
Her pupils dilated and her cheeks had gone bright pink. Such a telltale face. “I said to lick me. Now show me your tongue.”
His mouth opened first, just a hint of slack because of the erotic surprise of her demand. He swallowed. Then he poked the tip of his tongue out, licking his bottom lip.
“That’s what I want, Michael. Your tongue on my clit. Do I need to be more explicit?”
He grinned up at her. “No, ma’am.”
Damaged Goods
Lainey Reese
Dominance. Submission. Murder. And that’s just before lunch.
New York, Book 2
Homicide detective Brice Marshall’s current case has him stymied and frustrated. A serial killer is slaughtering young women. After a long, fruitless day poring over the most gruesome evidence he’s ever seen, he needs a break.
Stepping into his cousin’s BDSM club is a reminder that there is another part of himself. A part that has been left empty in a life ruled by work. The fact is, he’s a Dom in search of a sub. When he bumps into Terryn, a slender redhead who’s new to the scene, her wide-eyed eagerness even in the face of her nerves attracts him like gravity.
Terryn is the sub of his dreams, with the power to ease his soul. Without warning the murder case reaches ugly tentacles into the most private part of his world—the woman he wants to claim as his own. The woman whose stubborn search for the delicate balance between sub life and independence could put her directly in the path of the killer.
Warning: This book contains BDSM play, M/F/M ménage, graphic language and a drool-worthy Dom on the hunt for a sub and a killer.
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This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental.
Samhain Publishing, Ltd.
11821 Mason Montgomery Road Suite 4B
Cincinnati OH 45249
Damaged Goods
Copyright © 2012 by Lainey Reese
ISBN: 978-1-60928-970-6
Edited by Amy Sherwood
Cover by Kendra Egert
All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
First Samhain Publishing, Ltd. electronic publication: August 2012
www.samhainpublishing.com
Table of Contents
Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
About the Author
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