Her Perfect Revenge

by Anna Mara

  Christina kept staring at it but not because she was overly materialistic—it was just that she'd never seen anything so beautiful before. The diamonds were glistening and hypnotizing her—and she was having a difficult time tearing her gaze away. When she finally raised her eyes back to his, she saw that he had been studying her reaction very closely.

  He lifted the necklace out of the box then and threw the box on the floor. He dangled the bauble in his hand—like a hunter using bait to lure their prey in.

  "For you," he offered smoothly.

  "No thanks, I don't want it," she defied him.

  He burst out laughing at that. "I've never known a woman refuse diamonds before."

  "I'm not like other women."

  "Oh yes… I can appreciate that," he softly agreed.

  "Well, since you've now said your… peace, can you please leave my room?"

  He didn't move. "Oh come on now kitten, don't be like that."

  Half of Christina didn't like the way he called her 'kitten'—the other half did.

  "What else is there to say? You forgive me. I forgive you. Everybody's satisfied," Christina replied.

  "Not quite… satisfied," he smirked at that.

  Christina's eyes angrily flashed at him. "Well, that's all you're going to get." She kept staring hard at him, making sure he understood her meaning. He did. She could tell by the way his eyes were insolently glaring back at her but he still kept up his pretence of charm.

  "It gives me pleasure to give you pretty things. And it might give you pleasure to receive them. So why deny ourselves… pleasure?" he whispered.

  Christina's internal temperature soared. Her fear of him and her lust for him were fighting each other in her body—and lust, wanting, desire were suddenly winning. His hot words and his magnetic presence were wrapping themselves around her like a boa and squeezing the breath out of her. She was beginning to breathe harder—and faster—and she saw his eyes rivet to her chest as he watched her breasts underneath her blouse rising and falling to the rhythm of her increased breathing rate.

  "I… I think… you should go," her voice came out in a breathy whisper.

  His gaze quickly came up to rest on her beautifully flushed face. "Okay, if that's what you want."

  "It is," she breathed a sigh of relief at having him finally agree.

  "I'll go then; but first let me at least give you this? I bought it just for you." He held the diamond necklace out to her again. "Please?"

  Christina had been prepared to tell him 'no' but the soft, gentle way he had said the word 'please' did her in. He sounded like a little boy who had spent all day at school drawing a picture for the girl he liked and then she had rejected him and his gift.

  Okay—so she'd let him give her the necklace and then he'd leave. What harm was there in that? Bill took a few steps forward and Christina remained rooted to the spot. Slowly, he continued to approach her—as if she were a skittish colt who would bolt if he made any sudden moves.

  He reached her then—and stopped a foot away. Leisurely, he lifted the necklace and unclasped its opening. His slow, deliberate movements were mesmerizing Christina. Whether it was her fatigue at being up all night or her strong physical attraction to him or her love for him, she didn't know but she was falling under his spell.

  Christina let her hands drop from her blouse, causing it to fall open and revealing her lacy pink bra. She then lifted her hair up off her neck and turned her back to him. She didn't see him bridge the last few inches between them but she felt him.

  She saw his powerful arms come around from behind her and felt the weight of the cold, heavy necklace as he placed it around her neck. He snapped the clasp and from behind, he lowered his lips to her ears.

  "You look beautiful, my little spitfire," he whispered and his breath erotically fanned the delicate insides of her ear.

  Christina briefly closed her eyes as she felt an intense longing for him shoot through her body. God—she wanted him so badly—and her lack of sleep had removed all her inhibitions, excuses, defenses and rationale against making love to him.

  Why hadn't she wanted to make love with him before?

  She couldn't remember.

  With a low moan, Christina spun around and wrapped her arms around his neck. She began to kiss him with a soft, ravenous passion, like a starving man eating his first meal after a hunger strike. She couldn't help herself—and she couldn't stop.

  To say that Bill was stunned was an understatement of massive proportions. He hadn't expected her to make the first move. In fact, he'd been gearing up to do that himself and had even braced himself for the slap across his face that he'd been sure he was going to get for his efforts but this—her kissing him—and with such hot, sensuous abandon?

  It took Bill all of one second to greedily take what was being offered. After all, he'd been hard for her the minute she'd walked into the room. All it ever seemed to take was just one look at her and he was a goner. Quickly, he placed his hands on her waist, letting them run all the way up to her breasts which he began to massage through the thin, lacy material of her bra as he returned each of her tongue-thrusting kisses with his own.

  Christina was on fire for him—and this time there was no stopping her. No more games. No more strategies—just pure, wet pleasure. She bit his lower lip and he grunted with satisfaction. Her lips briefly left his so that she could gasp out her pleasure at what he was doing to her. His thumbs had pushed the lacy material of her bra aside and were now brushing her erect nipples roughly. She threw her head back and moaned again. What he was doing to her felt so good—and she wanted more.

  Dislodging her hands from his hair, Christina yanked off her blouse and let it fall to the floor. She then reached for his shirt and started to tug it open—some buttons came undone—some popped off. She didn't care—and neither did he, as he watched her do it.

  She stripped him of the shirt, then pulled him towards the bed and pushed him onto it. She gazed into his fiery eyes and they matched hers in intensity.

  Bill gave her a rakish smile as he leaned back on his elbows on top of the bed. "I've told you before, Miss Christina. Whatever you like or need, I'll do it for you. You just have to ask."

  Christina gave him a breathy, sexy smile back. "Now, that's an offer a girl can't refuse."

  And with one fell swoop, she pushed her jeans down her legs and stepped out of them. Bill let his hungry eyes slowly roam over every square inch of her luscious body, as she stood there in front of him in her pink bra, panties and the glittering diamond necklace he had given her.

  He gave her another bad boy smile. "Very nice; now come here." He patted his hard thigh still clad in his pants.

  Christina giggled. "Unfair, Mr. Havenwood; here I am in my skivvies and you're still dressed."

  At the speed of lightning, Bill kicked off his shoes, tore off his socks, unzipped himself and pulled his pants off, balling them up and throwing them across the room.

  "Problem solved," he announced as he lay back on the bed in his briefs. "Now I'm in my skivvies too."

  Christina laughed and took several steps towards the bed. As she did, something shiny caught her attention and her head instinctively turned to see what it was; and she suddenly froze.

  There, lying half in/half out of one of Bill's pant's pockets was a pair of shiny, metallic handcuffs. Christina's smile dropped and she walked to where the pants lay on the floor.

  "Darling, I'm waiting," she heard Bill say, as she was bending down to retrieve them.

  She straightened back up and let the cuffs dangle off one finger as she turned to the rat reclining on the bed. "What are these?" she innocently enquired.

  Bill stared at the handcuffs. "Oh shit!" The words rushed out of his mouth and he leapt off the bed. "Christina, I can explain." He was in big trouble and he knew it.

  Christina kept dangling the steel bracelets on one finger as she approached him. "No explanations necessary, sweetie. I think I'm smart enough to figure it ou
t," she calmly replied. "This is my day of reckoning, isn't it?" He didn't reply and she continued, "Am I warm?"

  Bill studied her beautiful, suddenly cold face. He'd been caught and there was no use in denying it. "You're burning hot." He smirked at his own stupidity.

  Christina was angry. In one second, she'd gone from loving him to hating his guts all over again. Jenny had told her love and hate were the flip side of the same coin. She now truly believed it.

  She played it cool as she approached him, still dangling the handcuffs in her hand. He watched her with a wary expression.

  "And what were you planning?" She fingered her diamond necklace. "To trap me with shiny bait, then do to me what I did to you?"

  Bill didn't take his eyes off her. "Pretty much," he admitted honestly. "I've been angry with you and I wanted to teach you a lesson."

  "Then why didn't you? Instead you threw your pants with the handcuffs still in them, halfway across the room."

  "Because I…" Bill stopped himself. He'd been about to say, 'because I love you'.

  Christina slowly walked up to him and reaching out, caressed his cheek.

  "Because you… what? Because you want me? Because I threw myself at you? Because why?" she purred in her sexy voice.

  Bill was staring hard at her and she was casting her witch's spell all over him again. His eyes traveled from her fiery eyes to her swollen, bruised lips, down her soft body and he was remembering how her skin had tasted like heaven only a few minutes before when he'd been kissing her.

  Bill's breathing increased and the blood drained from his brain back to his crotch. He wanted her so badly he couldn't think straight anymore but instinctively he knew enough to be careful of her. She could be a dangerous, clever, little minx when double-crossed.

  "All of the above, I guess," he softly admitted, not really sure what she was up to and not really caring—not if it meant he could touch her again.

  Still holding the handcuffs in her right hand, Christina gave him a warm smile as she wrapped her arms around his neck and plastered her body against his hard erection. Bill couldn't help gasping with the intense pleasure that alone gave him but he didn't put his hands on her body. With a Herculean effort, he held himself back until he could be sure of her intentions. She brought her lips within inches of his and her sexy eyes lifted to his.

  "I'm glad you were honest with me, Bill Havenwood," she whispered into his mouth. "I forgive you. And you can still have me because I still want you."

  Bill saw her desire for him flash in her eyes and with a low groan he broke down. Reaching for her, he began to kiss her with a fervent intensity he'd never experienced with anyone before in his life. His hands traveled down her warm, curvy body and he pulled her back to the bed, falling backwards on it and bringing her down on top of him.

  Christina matched each of his hot kisses. She dropped the handcuffs on the pillow beside his head and laid both hands on his bare shoulders. Still kissing him deeply, she caressed his hard chest before moving to his nipples, then further down to his flat belly and back up again.

  His hands traveled to her derriere and began to knead and squeeze her flesh in an erotic rhythm. Christina, suddenly, grabbed one of his hands and slowly brought it up over his head—while at the same time feeling, with her other hand, for the handcuffs on the pillow beside his head. Her hand locked onto them—and she knew she had one second to bring them up to his wrist and handcuff the bastard to the bedpost. If she was going to pull this off—again—she needed both speed and God on her side.

  She had neither.

  She went for it anyway—but this time, he was ready.

  As she tried to slip the manacle onto his wrist, Bill quickly grabbed both of her hands and held them away from him. Their locked lips broke apart and they were both breathing heavily.

  "Not this time, you little hellcat!" he gritted, as he used all of his strength to subdue her.

  Still on top of him, Christina started to squirm. "Let me go, you bastard," she shouted.

  Not yet!" he shouted back.

  He was so big and so strong compared to her, that before she knew what had happened, he had effortlessly flipped her over and Christina found herself underneath his heavy, male body. She tried bringing her knee up to kick him in the groin but he effortlessly pinned downed her legs with his own strong, muscled ones.

  He gave her an evil smile then. "Dirty little fighter, aren't you?"

  "Go to hell," she threw at him.

  "Honey, I'm already there but this time, I'm taking you with me." His eyes glinted dangerously.

  Frightened, Christina squirmed even harder but it was no use. She was no match for his superior male strength. Then, as if she were no stronger than a feather, he easily transferred both of her wrists to his hand and held her tight. Christina stopped squirming and looked into his face, inches away. She was breathing heavily from her futile efforts to escape and from his heavy body weight pressing down on her.

  "What are you going to do?" she breathlessly asked him.

  He gave her a naughty grin. "Exactly what you think I'm going to do."

  Suddenly, Christina's wrists were handcuffed to the bedpost in the same position she had locked him in a week before. As she yanked at her bondage, Bill slid off and stood by the bed looking down at his handiwork; and was pleased.

  "I knew not to trust you when you started coming onto me again after you found the handcuffs," he mumbled to himself.

  Christina's eyes shot poison darts at him. "Uncuff me, you slime. Now!" she shouted.

  He laughed, "Bitter tasting, isn't it?"

  Christina glared at him. "What is?"

  "Your own medicine."

  "Why you rotten, lousy worm! Let me go!" She yanked harder at the steel bracelets but to no avail.

  "Oh, I almost forgot," Bill winked at her before walking to where his pants lay on the floor. He fished into one of the pockets and found a handcuff key. He held it up for her to see.

  "Is this how your little game is played?" he taunted her.

  "Don't you dare!" she yelled, clearly reading his mind.

  "Why not? You did." He smirked as he walked to the bathroom.

  Squirming frantically, Christina screamed at the top of her lungs, "Don't you do it, you sleazeball! Don't…"

  She heard the toilet flushing—and Christina let out a 'noooooooo' that was as loud as Bill's had been the week before. She glared as he, smugly, came back out.

  "You bastard!" she threw at him.

  "Hey, these are your tricks, honey, not mine. I simply learned from the master." He crossed his arms in front of his chest and beamed down at her.

  And there, Christina was—handcuffed to the middle of the bed—wearing her lacy pink bra and panties that had been twisted from all of his rough love play—and wearing his damned, diamond necklace that branded her as his possession.

  She sat up as far as the handcuffs would let her. "Feel better?" she sarcastically asked.

  He nodded, "Much."

  "So, now we're even?"

  "Even Stephen."

  She gave him a phony smile, "I'm glad. Now this is the part in my little game where you have to go get Tom, your gardener and ask him to bring his tools." Christina had heard it all from Tilly about how Tom had taken over an hour to saw through Bill's handcuffs last week.

  Bill shook his head. "No, I don't think so. You look pretty hot tied to the bed in your underwear and you might give poor, old Tom a heart attack."

  "What do you suggest we do, then? You flushed the key down the toilet."

  Bill pretended to think. "We could finish what we started?" he suggested.

  "You mean, have sex with you with me tied to the bed?"

  "It's an idea."

  "A bad one."

  "Okay, how about we make love with you untied from the bed." He held up the key that he'd been secretly palming in his hand.

  Christina gasped. "You didn't flush it?"

  He shook his head. "No."

&nbs
p; Christina's anger vanished in an instant. "Why not? I did it to you," she softly asked.

  He shrugged his shoulders. "Maybe you don't feel the same way about me that I do about you."

  Christina's heart skipped a beat. "And how do you feel about me?"

  He stared at her for a full minute and Christina thought he wasn't going to answer her. Then he moved closer to the bed.

  "Like this," he said, before bending down and unlocking her handcuffs.

  Christina rubbed her sore wrists as the manacles slipped off. She studied his face, looking for clues about what he meant. Part of her wanted to believe—desperately—that he had feelings for her. As he straightened and started to walk away, she put a restraining hand on his arm.

  "I don't understand?" she questioned.

  He looked at her for what seemed an eternity then raised his hand and let his finger trace the soft outline of her lips.

  "I love you, Christina," Bill whispered. "I've loved you from the moment you threw that damned ring in my face and threatened to walk out on me."

  Christina was stunned. "You… you love me?" she stammered.

  Bill nodded 'yes'.

  Christina's heart pounded in her chest as she came off the bed and stood in front of him. He was saying he loved her. Did he love her—for real? Was it possible? It was almost too good to be true!

  Suddenly, her eyes narrowed and she defensively crossed her arms, throwing him a suspicious glare. Wait a minute! If she were in his desperate, pathetic position with his father, this is exactly what she would say to keep her hapless stooge in line. Yes, indeed—it was too good to be true!

  "No, I don't think so," she defiantly announced.

  Bill was dumbfounded. "What?" The word rushed out in an explosive fury.

  "Of course, you're going to say that. You'll say anything to get into my pants not to mention have me marry you for your father's money."

  Anger coursed through Bill. "Unbelievable! Here I am laying my heart at your feet and you're trampling all over it?" he shouted.

  "Come on, you're going to have to do better than a couple of phony 'I love you's'."

  Speechless, Bill glanced around the room in shock. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. "Don't you get it? I've fallen for you, goddamn it!" he suddenly yelled at the top of his lungs.