Against the Ropes

by Sarah Castille

  Promises, promises

  On the bench and don’t move

  .....

  Yeah. I’ll do “on the bench.” I undo yet another button on my coat as

  I walk over to the marble slab. I am hot now, for real. He must know

  what his words do to me. I lie on my side, one leg out, one leg bent

  at the knee, shoe on the bench, hand propped up on my elbow in the

  traditional sex kitten pose. My coat slides over my skin, revealing things

  that are for Max’s eyes only. The phone buzzes in my hand. Why did I

  never notice it had such a powerful vibration?

  .....

  Behave. We’re almost done

  .....

  I stare at the phone. Suddenly, I have an idea. A delicious idea. A

  naughty idea. I send Max a text.

  .....

  Call me. If I don’t answer, call again

  ....

  I turn the ringer to vibration and swing my legs down so I am sitting on

  the bench facing him. I part my legs. Max frowns. I slip the phone into

  my coat and secure it at the juncture of my thighs. Max’s eyes widen.

  He chokes. One of his clients pushes a glass of water across the table.

  Max glares at me and shakes his head. I slide one hand into the coat and

  fondle my breast. He closes his eyes and sucks in his lips.

  Then he calls.

  The vibration isn’t great. Not like my Rabbit. But it isn’t bad. And

  coupled with the fact I am naked under the coat with six men in front

  of me who could turn around at any moment, I don’t need much more

  to get off. I hope the phone is waterproof.

  I roll my nipple between my thumb and forefinger. Zings of

  pleasure shoot to my core. I close my eyes and shift position. The

  slippery slide of the coat’s silk lining brushes over my skin in a gentle

  caress. My body tightens. I’ve never brought myself this close this fast.

  I suck in a breath and press my lips together as I teeter on the edge.

  The sultry, strawberry taste of Vivacious Vixen lip gloss bursts over

  my tongue.

  The vibrations stop. Damn. I pull out the phone and read the message.

  .....

  ENOUGH

  .....

  This is my show now.

  I put the phone on the bench and slide my hand into the trench

  coat. I stroke my sweet spot and my body tightens again. I should stop.

  What if someone turns around? But I can’t stop. I am heady with the

  knowledge he wants me and can’t have me. Aroused beyond belief. My

  head falls back and I slip one finger inside my sex. Jeez. I’m so wet.

  The office door crashes open. The glass walls shake.

  I whip my hands out of the jacket and sit up straight, eyes wide,

  innocence personified. Max stalks toward me, his face so taut, I can see

  the blood pounding through the veins on his temples. He grabs my arm

  and yanks me out of the seat.

  Without so much as a hello, he drags me across the reception area

  and slams his hand on the elevator button. The elevator opens instantly

  as if it knows Max is no mood to be trifled with. He pounds on the

  ground-level button and the doors slide closed.

  “Are you angry?” My blood still runs hot with desire. I place a

  tentative hand on his chest. He hisses in a breath and steps away.

  “Don’t touch me. Don’t talk to me.”

  My cheeks flame. Uh-oh. Really angry. My stomach clenches. It

  was just meant to be a game.

  The elevator reaches the ground floor. Max grabs my hand and

  pulls me through a maze of corridors until we reach a battered metal

  door. He throws the door open and I follow him out into a dark alley.

  The streetlights from the main road lick the darkness but don’t

  quite reach our toes. Although I can see cars and people, they can’t see

  us. But I can see Max and he can see me. His eyes gleam under the soft

  faint exit light above the door, and he studies me, a predator assessing

  its prey.

  My heart pounds so hard I fear it might break my ribs. Angry Max.

  Dark alley. Maybe I pushed him too far.

  Suddenly I am up against the wall, the rough brick digging into my

  back. Max pins me, one hand on my chest, the other making fast work

  of the buttons and belt on the coat. He yanks it open, exposing me to

  his heated gaze. His eyes rake over my naked body as cool air brushes

  over my burning skin.

  Fear and arousal blend into a potent cocktail of need. A whimper

  escapes my lips. In an instant I am in Max’s arms, my body pressed

  against his.

  “I’ve never seen anything as fucking hot in my life. You were killing

  me in there, baby.” He threads his fingers through my hair and yanks

  my head back. His kiss is hard, almost punishing, but quickly it gentles,

  softens. A tremor runs through me.

  “So goddamned fucking sexy,” he whispers against my lips. “I

  thought I was going to explode.”

  My body sags as relief courses through my veins. Not angry.

  Aroused. As am I.

  Boldy I stroke my hand over his erection, hot and hard, strain-

  ing against his fine wool trousers. “What a hard cock you have

  Mr. Huntington.”

  He sucks in a sharp breath and his body goes rigid. “What did you

  just say to me?”

  I lean against him and press my lips against his ear. “I said you had

  a hard cock, and I want it.”

  “Fuck.” He has a condom in his hand and his pants down before I

  can catch my breath.

  “I thought you didn’t like to talk dirty.” His voice is rough, grav-

  elly, and hoarse with need.

  “I thought the circumstances warranted a little dirty talk. We are in

  a filthy, garbage-strewn back alley after all. You sure know how to show

  a girl a good time.”

  “Christ” He rips open the condom and sheaths himself. “Every

  time I think I’ve figured you out, you do something that makes me

  think I don’t know you at all.”

  “I didn’t know this about me either,” I whisper. “You’ve made me

  into a wild, wicked, wanton woman.”

  He slides his hands under my bottom and lifts me. I wrap my legs

  around his body and the coat swings around us, hiding us from view.

  “You were always a wild, wicked, wanton woman,” he chuckles.

  “You just needed someone to set her free.” He slides inside me with one

  long, hard thrust.

  Oh God. So good. So big. So hard. I groan and tighten my arms

  around Max’s shoulders.

  A sharp nip on my lip makes me gasp, and then he thrusts his

  tongue inside me, easing it in and out with the promise of what is to

  come. The ache of need burns through my body. He pulls his lips away

  and drags his mouth over my nipple, teasing it between his teeth until it

  peaks. Then he nips gently, and my body turns liquid.

  A thin whine escapes me. I manage one slide up and down before

  he pushes me against the wall and grabs my hips, holding me still.

  “I won’t last, baby. And you’re not ready.”

  “I am ready. I’ve been ready since I put on that trench coat and

  walked into your office.”

  He slides his fingers between us and strokes around my swollen

  nub. “I want y
ou to come as hard as I’m going to come. After what you

  pulled in there, I want to hear you scream.”

  His hot, wet mouth closes around my other nipple. He sucks it into

  a peak then bites carefully. Pleasure pain shoots to my core, and my sex

  clenches around him.

  “God, baby, I like to feel your response. He bites again. I clench

  and moan.

  “Please, don’t torture me.”

  His eyes crinkle. “Almost there.”

  Another kiss, harder this time, demanding, possessing. Trembles

  start in my core and spread outward to my fingers and toes. My eyes slit

  closed and I rock my hips against him.

  “Now, baby. Let’s go for a ride.” He moves. Finally. In and out, the

  rhythm of his thrusts sending shockwaves through my body, winding

  me tighter and tighter until my fingers are pressed deep into his flesh.

  “Don’t stop. Don’t stop.”

  With a low laugh, he puts his hand between us, and slides his

  thumb firmly up and around the aching bundle of nerves at my center.

  Up and around, over and over, slicking so near where I want him to go,

  I want to scream with frustration.

  My voice becomes one long, uncontrollable whimper as he continues

  to pound into me. I am overwhelmed by sensation. The rough wall in my

  back, the cool silk brushing over my skin, the sharp tang of his cologne

  mixed with the sultry fetid scent of the alley, the sensual taste of him on

  my tongue, the intense, all-consuming need for release. My mind blanks.

  “That’s it, baby. Just feel.” His fingers slide over my clit and he

  pinches. Hard.

  Suddenly the alley sheets white and I explode. Spasms of intense

  pleasure rip through my body, and I arch my back and scream.

  Max’s mouth covers mine, swallowing the sound of my orgasm.

  His hands slide under my bottom and he drives farther, deeper, chang-

  ing to a hammering pace. With one last forceful jerk of his hips, he

  groans and swells, pulsing against my sensitive, swollen tissue. Another

  wave of tingles rolls through my body.

  He holds me tight against him and presses his forehead against mine.

  “Christ, Makayla,” he mumbles. “What you do to me.”

  What I do to him? What about what he does to me? Never in my

  wildest dreams would I have ever imagined having sex in a back alley

  with a man I know so little and care so much about.

  After one last, soft, sweet kiss, he lets me down and we straighten

  our clothes. He leans against the wall and holds me, his chin resting on

  my head, as if he doesn’t have a boardroom full of clients waiting for

  him. The traffic hums past, people laugh, a bird tweets overhead. We

  hold each other in comfortable silence until finally, he pulls away.

  “You’ll never get rid of me now,” he says as we head back into

  the building.

  “I wasn’t planning to get rid of you. Who else will appreciate my

  new penchant for dirty talk?”

  We reach the elevator and he spins me around to face him. “You

  said you wanted to talk about something.”

  My cheeks flame. Will he think I tried to seduce him to get my

  way? “I…um…it’s not that important.”

  “It’s important to me.”

  I bite my lip. “I…was wondering…if maybe you needed someone

  to do first aid at the club during the week, or even during the day on the

  weekend. If you did…I’m free. You wouldn’t have to pay me what you

  paid me before. I’m not really worth that much. But—”

  His eyes soften and he cups my jaw and strokes his thumb over my

  cheek. “You want to work more often at my club?”

  I nod, not sure where he’s going with this.

  “Despite your issues with violence?”

  I nod again. “Working on gym and training days isn’t really a

  problem. The problem is watching the fights.”

  “So I would see more of you?”

  My lips quiver. I hadn’t really thought of that. “I suppose so.”

  “And this is a request you thought I might refuse?”

  I shrug. “You might not need another employee or not want to

  take one on. It’s just… I enjoy being at the club. I like being able to

  help people. I like the guys and I like spending time with you. But I

  understand—”

  His hand fists in my hair and he tilts my head back, cutting me off

  with a gentle kiss.

  “If you need money, baby, just ask. But I know you’re proud and

  if you want to work for it, you work as many hours as you need to. You

  are an incredible asset to the club. Everyone loves you. The pay stays

  the same.”

  My eyes fill and I try to pull away, but he cups my face with his

  hands and holds my gaze. “Anything you want from me, Makayla, baby,

  you can have.”

  Ah. So sweet. The moment is ruined only by the hum of a floor

  polisher, the ding of the elevator, and the slither of guilt up my spine. If

  I didn’t need the money, would I have offered to work at the club? But

  more troubling, do I feel the same way about him?

  Chapter 19

  This One Is Quite Wet

  Four days later I spill the entire debt collector story to Charlie over

  a box of donuts at a local donut shop. He offers to help. I refuse. My

  mother never once accepted money from friends or family when we

  were on our own, and I can’t bring myself to do it either. Self-reliance is

  one lesson I learned well. I already feel like I’m betraying her by working

  for Max and being overpaid.

  “So what are you going to do?” He licks each of his fingers before

  sticking them back in the box.

  “I’ve got a second job at Max’s club.”

  Charlie waggles his eyebrows and picks up a chocolate dip. “Why

  work for the billionaire boyfriend? Why don’t you just hit him up for

  some cash? You could promise to work it off in the bedroom.”

  “He’s not a billionaire.” I bite into my sugary sweet honey glazed.

  “No private jet. No yacht. No helicopter. No glider. No security team

  shadowing his every move. He has a successful company, and he seems

  to be financially comfortable, but our outings so far have been pretty

  sedate. He’s as close to a regular guy as they come.” Except for the ropes

  and D-rings on the desk.

  Charlie frowns. “I thought you said he had a butler and a chauffeur

  and a limo and a kick-ass pad.”

  I shrug. “He said he entertains a lot of clients. I think those are all

  business expenses. And his club is just a big warehouse. It isn’t like those

  top-class MMA facilities with mirrored fitness studios and high-tech

  equipment. He’s not really the type of guy to splash money around.”

  Charlie snorts a laugh. “That’s why he blew one million bucks to

  keep you out of Doctor Drake’s clutches at the auction.”

  “He bought a necklace.”

  “He bought you. A man spends money like that; a man thinks he

  owns you. Don’t forget it.” He licks chocolate off his fingers and pulls

  out a cruller.

  The door opens and a cool breeze dissipates the thick yeasty smell

  of baking donuts. I shiver and shrug on my sweater. A man in a brown

 
jacket with sandy brown hair takes a seat at the table beside us and

  orders a coffee.

  “You still haven’t told me where he’s taking you tonight.”

  “The Symphony Gala.” My lips quiver with a repressed smile, and

  I blow on my fingernails and rub them on my shirt.

  Charlie’s eyes widen. “No way! That’s super swanky. I wouldn’t call

  that sedate.”

  I grin and lean over the table. “I KNOW. I’m so excited. I’ve never

  been to a society event before. He’s even buying me something to wear

  from a little boutique he knows.”

  “DO NOT drink anything.” Charlie’s smile fades and he waggles a

  finger at me. “You know what happens when you drink too much. You

  need to act classy. Don’t embarrass him.”

  I lean back in my chair and sigh. “Don’t be overly dramatic. I’ve

  matured since the beer pong incident.”

  Charlie snorts a laugh. “I thought you said he caught you playing

  strip poker on the weekend.”

  “That’s different. I knew what I was doing. I can even remember

  some of it.”

  The man in the brown jacket chokes on his coffee and dabs at his

  lips with a napkin.

  “Moving off the topic of my drunken exploits,” I say, “you’ve been

  chomping at the bit to tell me something, so spill.” I bite into a Bavarian

  cream and watch my thighs expand. Charlie licks his fingers and spears

  another chocolate dip.

  “I slept with Doris.”

  “You’re kidding!” I lean right over the table. “You and Big Doris?”

  Charlie blushes. “We had a lot to drink at the Heart 2 Heart benefit.

  One thing led to another and suddenly we were in her bedroom.”

  I snort and spew donut across the table. “Naturally. After a woman

  slaps you in a public place for stealing a kiss, of course you would want

  to sleep with her.”

  “Anyhoo.” Charlie leans in and breathes donut in my face. “This is

  where it gets really interesting.”

  “I was interested from the second you said you slept with Big Doris.”

  Charlie looks around and then takes a bite of his donut. “The

  minute the door closed, she was all over me. She tore off my clothes in

  a frenzy of lust and then she—”

  “Big Doris?” I interject, more to save my innocent ears than

  for clarification.

  Charlie nods.

  “Big Doris tore off your clothes in a frenzy of lust?”