Because you’ve never felt this alive before. Because everything about him tears you up, breaks you down, and you’re too curious, too enticed, and too hooked.
He’s everything I never knew I needed.
Chapter Eleven
Casey
At 4:25 I fly out of bed. I have no idea what woke me. I don’t even know where I am in the first few moments. I’ve slept like the dead. No dreams, no nothing. Then I realize my phone is chiming and everything comes back, washing over me like a wave. I pull off my pajamas in a rush, shivering in the chilly air.
4:28.
I grab my phone, rush through the hallway and come to a stop outside his curtain, waiting breathlessly, staring at the clock, the seconds ticking away endlessly slowly. At 4:30 sharp I put the phone on the counter, push the curtain aside and enter. His room is dark and silent. My butt vividly reminds me not to speak, so I put my hand on his shoulder and give him a slight shake.
He turns toward me. “Good girl.” His voice is unused, husky, and it sends a shiver through me.
Shuffling backward, he lifts his comforter and pats the mattress next to him. “Come.”
I’m stunned. But he won’t have to tell me twice. I sneak in next to him and he tucks the cover around me, pulling me to him, my face to his chest, his chin on my head.
“You have permission to speak.”
I decide to use it wisely. I revel in this unexpectedly sweet moment. “Good morning.”
“You did good today. Keep it up and I will reward you.”
My heart shoots to my throat and a wave of heat washes over me. “How?” I breathe.
He pulls me even closer. Every patch of my skin that is in contact with his tingles. His cock grows, pushing against my belly. I pray a reward means that he’ll use it, because by God, I want him inside me. I’m only a woman. I’m young. I have hormones shooting out of my ears. His hand caresses its way down along my back, past my ass. I wince and tense up. It still stings. Cole chuckles.
“I’ll let you rest today. At least that part.” His hand dips in between my ass cheeks, a finger pushing at my tight rear hole, making me jerk. “No one’s been here?” he asks.
I swallow and shake my head. “No.”
He strokes back and forth, closer and closer to my weeping pussy, swollen, eager for his touch.
“Oh, fuck, Casey,” he moans as he parts my lips, finds my slit. “You’re so wet.”
I buck against him and answer with a mewl. It’s all I can do. “Please,” I rasp. “I want you in me.”
“Oh, I know,” he says and pushes his fingers inside, sliding with ease, thrusting in and out.
I throw my arm around his chest and hold on for all I’m worth as he teases me closer and closer to my release: in, out, circle my clit, push inside again. I tense up, so close. Then he pulls out and holds up his hand before my face, his finger glistening wet.
“Lick me clean.”
“You’re so cruel,” I gasp.
“You are not allowed to come.”
I clench my pussy, try to find that feeling again, that tightening of my inner walls. “I don’t know if I can stop it.”
“I’ll spank your ass the whole weekend if you disobey me.”
“That doesn’t help one bit,” I whimper, but my pending orgasm is fading, the tension dissipating. All I’m left with is an empty, aching, hollow feeling. I part my lips and let him push his fingers past them, tasting my own juices, licking and sucking. He pushes in and out, the motion perversely much like what I so desperately need somewhere else.
Finally, he pulls out and strokes along my jawline with the back of his hand, his knuckles rough and callused. “So desperate,” he says.
“You’re such an ass,” I groan.
Cole sits up and pushes off the comforter. “Permission to speak revoked. Go back to your room and await your turn, pet.”
I stand on shaky legs.
“On hands and knees.”
I stare at him, aghast. He points to the floor and I kneel, hot, bothered, humiliated, then I lean forward and begin to crawl.
His low growl sends a shiver through me.
“Good girl.”
Little pebbles of dirt dig into my palms and my knees. I’m cold, and still it feels as if I’m running a fever. As soon as I’m in my room, I shoot to my feet. Shivering, pissed. Fuck. I’m in way over my head. Why am I letting him do this to me? I should ask for somewhere else to live. Or breach my contract, no matter the consequences, and get out of here. I don’t know. God!
I throw myself on the bed and hug my pillow, still uncomfortably aroused, desperate to get off. He won’t know if I touch myself, will he? I’d come in a second. He’ll shower and won’t hear a thing.
Something holds me off. I’ve agreed to this. I’m agreeing to his rules, and I’ll obey. I’ve always been a girl among guys, almost a guy myself, needing to be pushy, tough, mouthy. I longed for someone to take charge of me for once, someone who wouldn’t let me get away with taking command.
Cole Hooper saw it. He saw me.
The time gets closer and closer to when the cantina opens. I’m increasingly jittery about not making it in time. When Cole finally leaves the bathroom, I have ten minutes and decide to skip the morning shower. I pull on all my layers of clothes and dart out, almost colliding with Cole, who is putting on his outerwear. I keep my opinions to myself. We’re on. I’m not allowed to speak. I glare daggers, though.
He gives me a once-over, his gaze darkening, the sight making my stomach clench.
“That look alone will get you in trouble. Don’t think I won’t see you. Keep your eyes off me today. You are to look down every time we’re in the same room.”
I gape and stare at him. He can’t be serious.
Cole pulls up his sleeve and looks at his watch, then back at me. He holds my eyes, then his gaze lowers to my lips. Raising his hand, he brushes a thumb along my lower lip before he drops his hand. “Your new rule begins now, Casey.”
I’m shook, but also a little bit excited. No matter how fucked up, this extends the game throughout the day as well. I allow him to control me even when we don’t speak, don’t see each other, don’t otherwise interact. I bow my head and look at my shoes. Wait. We stand in silence, then he pushes the door open and leaves.
My whole body is in uproar and the tingling inside makes it difficult to breathe. I have no appetite whatsoever, but I need to eat. I have to stay alert during the day.
It’s with a heavily pounding heart I enter the cantina for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. I hear him, smell, him, see him in the periphery of my vision even though I try to avoid it. It’s as if I have a sixth sense for where he is, and I can’t avoid him to save my life.
I keep my head down when I exit after dinner to the extent that I collide with one of the guys while trying to get my jacket off the hook. He pushes me to the side.
“Watch it!” he sneers.
I stumble as I fight to regain my balance. “What the fuck, dude?”
“Bitch, get the fuck out of my way,” he says in a low voice, the hostility oozing off him.
I decide not to push it and hold up my hands as I take a step back. I hold his gaze, forcing a neutral expression. He wants me to mouth back, it’s obvious. It’s not worth it. I’ll never win them over. Some of the guys tolerate me. No one praises me. I take silence as compliments.
In the corner of my eye, I see half the room looking our way. Cole stands, passive. I don’t look, I don’t see his expression, but the air thickens. I cross my arms over my chest and wait, leaning against the wall.
The guy before me works in a team that’s had to wait their turn. I can’t see to everyone’s needs at the same time. I have to prioritize. I know they blame me and think I’m slow. I know I’m not.
He finally realizes I’m not going to pick a fight with him and grabs his jacket, pushing his finger into a ring he makes with his other hand, thumb opposing index finger, an obscene gesture meant only for me to
see. The intent is obvious. A woman is meat, meant for one thing only. I flip him off. His face darkens, then he stomps off and disappears out the door.
I almost sag with relief, then pull on my jacket and head back to the trailer, throwing a quick glance around me to see that he isn’t hanging around, intent on stirring more trouble.
I’ve been here almost six weeks, a little more than one third into my contracted stay. Apart from the first few days, it’s been all right.
This won’t be the last of it, though. Something is brewing, and I have to admit I’m not cool about it. If things get nasty, I’m not sure I have anybody on my side. I’m not sure even Cole is, to be honest. I don’t know if he cares for me, or if I’m a toy to him.
I shower off the day, make tea, get to the end of my book, and then I have nothing to do. Cole hasn’t arrived yet. I guess he’s off with the guys. At eight, I have half a mind to just go to bed, sorely disappointed with how the evening has played out. Is he staying away because of what happened? Is this him showing the guys that he’s still one of them despite living with me?
When I hear him by the door, my heart rate doubles in an instant. I dart out and come to an abrupt stop, not knowing what to do. Cole pulls the door shut behind him and closes it. Undressing, he doesn’t take his eyes off me.
“Undress and go lie on your bed, on your back with your legs spread. Wait for me.”
I widen my eyes. A few words, that’s all it takes for my body to heat up, for my nipples to peak and my pussy to get wet in an instant.
Yes!
I spin on my heels and dart back into my room. Closing the door, I rip off my clothes and lay down, expectant, shivering.
And wait.
I listen to the noises of him in the bathroom, showering, then silence. After almost twenty minutes of waiting, listening, hoping, the door handle finally moves. I lie on my bed, my knees bent, but together. As I hold his gaze, I put my hands on the insides of my knees and slowly let them fall apart until I’m fully open before him. I raise my arms and let them fall to the mattress above my head, offering my body, my complete submission to his demands.
He stands unmoving while his eyes travel my body, lingering on my pussy. He has a T-shirt and sweatpants on, and I look longingly at the growing bulge, the outline of his cock, thickening.
I’ve never wanted a man so much as I want him. I’ve never been so aroused by a mere look, a single word.
It takes me a few moments to realize he’s got something in his hand. He’s holding a scarf and a bundle of black zip ties.
“You did well today,” he says, then he kneels on the bed, between my feet, before he leans over me. He supports himself on his arms as his face come up level with mine. “Are you going to be my good girl tonight, Casey?”
I try not to move, but I can’t help squirming as I nod. Oh, yes. He smiles, so heartbreakingly beautiful when his features light up. I wonder what made him so serious, so grave and bitter. I wonder what it would take to make him smile more.
“Lift your head.”
I do, and he lays the scarf over my eyes, wrapping it around my head, pulling it tight. The darkness is surreal. Giving up my will is an out of body—out of mind—experience.
He holds my wrists together and then tightens a zip tie around them, not tight enough to strangle my blood flow, or even dig into the skin, just tight enough that I won’t get out of it myself. I think that’s the end of it, but he keeps fiddling, and when he finally gets off me, I try to lift my arms, realizing I’m stuck. He has tied me to the bed. My chest tightens as I’m unexpectedly thrown back into the alley, agonizing pain shooting through my body as Alex brutalizes me. The feeling of utter helplessness slams into me full force. It’s not the same situation. He didn’t tie me up. I don’t know why the assault from two years back shoots to the surface out of nowhere, but it does and I pull at the ties, wriggling to get free while my heart slams in my chest.
“Casey.” A hand on my cheek, warm, tender. “Do you want to quit?”
I pant, fight to get my breathing back under control. “Per-permission to speak.”
“Of course.”
I exhale on a shudder. Cole is not Alex. Not in any way, shape, or form. “I had a bad experience.”
“I got the impression you hadn’t done this before.”
“No... I haven’t. It’s... A guy—” I lick my lips. “Misunderstood.”
“What are we talking about?”
I inhale. Exhale. Decide to lay it out there. “Cops. Court. Prison. The whole package.”
Cole is silent a moment. “Fuck, Casey. You should have said something. I’ll stop.”
“No.” The options flicker through my mind. Stop and then stay here. Awkward. Stop and try to find another place to live? Impossible. Leave the site all together? Defeat. “I don’t want to stop,” I whisper.
It has nothing to do with all those bleak options. I really don’t want to quit. I want this game. I want more.
He’s silent. A little too long. Long enough for worry to build in my chest. “I don’t want to stop either,” he finally says, his voice graver.
Hope flares inside me. “So don’t. I’m here. I’m yours.”
“Do you need me to untie you?”
I shake my head.
“Good, good girl. Permission to speak revoked. I’ll be right back.”
The mattress bounces as he stands. He’s gone for a few moments, then the mattress sinks down next to me and I feel the heat of his body through his clothes. A snip and my hands get loose.
“Turn over. On your belly.”
Tied up would have been hot, but I don’t care what he does, as long as he keeps touching me. Straddling me, he strokes his hands over my neck, shoulders, then along my back. He moves back up again and begins to knead my muscles, methodically, tender at first, then with increasing strength, easing up as soon as I tense.
“You have knots everywhere,” he mumbles.
I moan. I don’t remember if I can speak or not, but by God, this is good.
He sits lower, kneading my butt cheeks, my thighs, lower legs, all the way down to my feet. His hands are warm and strong, a little callused and rasp deliciously as they move along my body. I feel devoured, worshipped, loved, and I should remember that this is not love, but my melting limbs aren’t connected with my brain.
Leaning in, he hovers over me, his chest against my back, his breath hot on my ear.
“Feel good?”
I nod eagerly. I’m drowsy, relaxed, and desperately needy for more.
“This is your reward for being a good girl.”
“Mmmph.”
Crap, I hope that doesn’t count as a word.
“Turn over, Casey.” His deep voice sends shivers through me as it reverberates through my chest and I obey immediately. Every patch of skin that he hasn’t touched tingles, eager to feel him.
I gasp as his hands descend on my arms, stroking along them, to my breasts, his fingers finding my nipples, pinching them, tightening his hold until I squirm. Pain and pleasure shoot through me and finally I whimper. When I don’t think I can take more, he lets me go, kneading one breast while his mouth finds the other. He grazes my nipple with his teeth, then sucks it into his mouth, making me cry out with renewed need.
Kissing his way along my belly, he grips my hips and then moves to my thighs, spreading them wide apart, gripping my flesh tight, making me tremble. I’m cold and I’m hot, and I can’t lie still. I want him to touch one place more than anything and I’ll fucking die of frustration if he doesn’t go there really soon. When his hot, slick tongue touches my clit, and then licks along my slit, dipping inside, then back up to my clit again, I buck up and cry out, forgetting everything about not speaking. I can only hope that didn’t count as a word either. How can he expect me to be quiet when he does these things to me?
Cole chuckles and teases my slit with his fingers as he keeps circling my clit with his tongue. Loud mewls rise from my throat. All I am in thi
s moment is here, in this bed, blindfolded, with Cole between my legs, coaxing responses out of my body; a lava-like heat that melts my insides, that numbs me and makes me hyper aware at the same time.
“Come for me, Casey,” he says and thrusts his fingers inside me, curling them, pushing and rubbing at the front wall as he keeps up the ruthless licking. I arch up as I explode in convulsions, losing myself completely, fighting to stifle my moans, unsure if I’m succeeding.
When I come to, he’s pulled off the scarf. Cole kisses a path down along my chest, belly, to my hips, along the insides of my thighs, then back up to my pussy. I’m tender, still twitching.
“I want you so fucking much,” he mutters. I barely hear the words. It’s almost as if they weren’t meant for me.
So take me. Why won’t you fuck me?
I think it. I plead with him, wordlessly. I’m not allowed to speak.
Something has happened to him. Something that robbed him of his trust. He can be so, so tender, but then he pulls back. Over and over. Something made him hard, made him close down the vulnerability I sense in him.
We all have our reasons to be here, he said.
Cole Hooper isn’t who he claims to be. He’s not a rough brute. He’s not the asshole he shows off to the world. He’s hurting. I don’t know why, but all I know is that I want to help him back to who I think he really is deep inside.
Chapter Twelve
Cole
Suddenly I can’t get out of there fast enough. I’ve never wanted anyone more in my life than I want Casey Keagan in this moment. Her trust is absolute. She gave herself to me. She’s sweaty, still shaking in the aftermath of her release. She clenched so hard around my fingers, her thighs slamming together, trapping my head between them. It was amazing, and I’m so desperate to fuck her that it’s killing me. My cock strains my sweatpants, tenting the fabric, weeping with the need to penetrate her and make her mine.
But I can’t have her. She doesn’t deserve someone like me.
There are little pearls of tears glittering in her eyelashes. I don’t know if she’s sad. She shouldn’t fucking be sad after this supernova orgasm. I wipe the corner of her eye with the pad of my thumb. She shakes her head and smiles. When her hand comes up and she lays it against my cheek, I jerk back on instinct.
Commanding Casey Page 9
