“You don’t mind if I drive?” she asked when he shut his door.
“Why? Are you terrible at it?”
“Of course not.” She checked her mirrors before pulling onto the street. “I thought it might be something that you wanted to control.”
“I appreciate that. But, no. My father’s accident was a random-odds thing. A tire cut by debris, combined with speed and the angle of impact.” He could discuss that part of it dispassionately. He’d read the report, saw the logic, could recite the facts. It was the emotional loss that he’d never sorted through.
She stopped for a traffic signal, and he looked at her. Since it was after hours, she’d taken off her jacket, leaving her arms bare.
“What?” she asked, glancing over at him.
“I’m thinking about later.”
“What part?”
He swept his gaze over her, his intention clear, and her breath caught.
“Oh. That,” she said.
That was real—and good—between them.
He suggested they stop at the local hardware store for boxes then he asked a customer service representative for help finding the black electrical tape.
“Electrical tape?” Lara asked as they headed toward the appropriate aisle.
“For your nipples,” he reminded her.
She gasped. “You can’t be serious.”
“You never know.”
The whole time they checked out, she looked from him, to the tape, then back.
While they drove to her house, he asked if she had a favorite local Chinese restaurant.
She handed over her phone and told him the name. “It’s under my favorites tab.”
“What do you want?”
“Mongolian beef. Spicy. And crab wontons. And eggrolls.”
“You hungry?”
She shrugged. “I missed lunch.”
He called in the order and asked for it to be delivered around six-thirty. After he hung up, he said to her, “Why am I not surprised you ordered the spiciest thing on the menu?”
“How do you know that?”
“The man on the phone said so.”
Suzy-Q greeted them when they got out of the car.
First, she put her giant paws on his shoulders and gave him a sloppy upstroke kiss. Then she did the same to Lara.
Mrs. Fuhrman came running out of her house, wearing pink rollers in her blueish-purple hair and waving a leash.
“I’ve no idea what’s gotten into her,” the woman said. “She never misbehaves.”
Connor met Lara’s gaze and they both suppressed their smiles.
Connor clipped the mastiff mix back onto her leash and turned her over to Mrs. Fuhrman.
“You’re the moving man, aren’t you?”
“You could say that,” he replied, grabbing a handful of boxes from the trunk.
“We’ll miss you, Lara,” Mrs. Fuhrman said. Then, making soothing sounds to Suzy-Q, she took the dog home.
“I’m convinced she sends the dog over here,” Connor said.
“It’s the only way she gets to talk to a handsome man.”
“In that case—”
“Wait. I take it back.”
“You think I’m handsome,” he said.
“I forgot about the colossal ego.”
He grinned. “Can you grab the bag with the electrical tape?”
She shot him a scowl, but did as he asked.
Inside, he began to tape boxes together, and she answered the door when the food arrived.
She set it all out on the counter, then took out paper plates and napkins and two bottles of Shiner Bock, his favorite beer. And it was Texas made.
The whole time she worked, her gaze kept straying to the electrical tape. “Seriously, what’s it for?”
“Your nipples.”
She sighed.
They went into the backyard to eat, and he had to concede the place was gorgeous.
He uncapped the beers, and they touched the tops together.
She demolished a couple of wontons and an eggroll before diving into the Mongolian beef. The amount that she consumed before taking a drink surprised him. “So the choking thing on the crushed red peppers last night was an isolated incident.”
“I told you.”
For a few minutes, they sat together on the swing, and he understood what she meant about her house. It was an ideal place for backyard barbecues, for family time. Definitely a contrast to his urban fervor.
“Only thing that could make it perfect is a hot tub,” she said.
If he lived here, he’d definitely install one.
They returned inside and she cleaned up the kitchen.
“What are the most important things for you to take for now? We need to get through the next few days and we should get back to my place as soon as we can to give us adequate time to work. We can come back over the weekend and take care of the rest of the stuff.”
She nodded. “Shoes. Clothing. My notebook computer. Well, all my electronics. Running shoes. Workout clothes. My curling iron. Brushes. Makeup. Shampoo.”
“Magnolia soap.”
“I think I left some at your house.”
“It will be all gone tonight.”
“It will? Okay, then. Magnolia soap.”
“What do you want me to pack?”
“Actually…none of it. I want to be sure I have what I need.”
“Okay. You pack. I’ll load the car.”
“That will work.”
“But first…”
She was headed toward the bedroom, but she stopped. “Yes?”
He cut off four pieces of the electrical tape and lined them up along the kitchen counter. “Unfasten your bra.”
“What…?” she asked, but her voice had a dreamy, rather than outraged, quality.
“I want you aware of addendum A. And nipple clamps would be cruel. You’ll be aware of the tape, though.”
“Connor… Sir…”
“Unfasten your bra, Lara.”
She reached beneath her shirt and did so.
“Now lift your shirt.” He picked off two of the pieces and went to her.
He squeezed her nipple gently, then harder. Then, when she closed her eyes, with even more force. He tugged it, yanked it, made it hard, pulled her onto her toes and caught her when she moaned and wrapped her arms around his neck.
He kissed the side of her neck, inhaled her scent, unable to get enough of her. She’d said she’d had a rough night, but the truth was, so had he. He’d wanted her with him, thought about her, considered all the ways he wanted to claim her and make sure she knew she was his.
He set her back from him. While her nipple was still like a tiny rock, he put the tape on, in the shape of an X.
“That’s…”
“How is it?”
“Tight. Uncomfortable.”
“On a scale of one to ten. The lower end merely being an irritant.”
“Two,” she replied after some consideration.
“Good. Now the other one.” He repeated the process, tormenting her until she moaned and begged him to either stop or let her have an orgasm. “That’s the reward for finishing the move,” he replied. He went over to the kitchen counter for the other pieces of tape. After the second X was in place he nodded, pleased. “Incentive,” he told her. For both of them. “You’re welcome to refasten your bra or leave it off, your call. But if I had my way, you’d wear a white T-shirt and that demi-bra you wore to my office last Friday.”
“I think a sports bra,” she countered, “so I feel nothing and my breasts don’t move at all.”
He followed her into the bedroom and watched her change into a pair of shorts. She hesitated before pulling out a white T-shirt. Then deliberately, very deliberately, she opened her second drawer and selected a demi-bra.
He was reminded, again, that she was the perfect sub.
She pulled off her blouse and tossed it onto the covers of her unmade bed. Then she removed the bra
she’d worn to work.
Finally she put on the demi-bra, and he moved into adjust it for her, folding down the little line of lace and positioning her breasts in the cups so that he could see most of the electrical tape.
She didn’t protest, and she kept her gaze on him. Trust was there, and he treasured it. Through her shirt, he traced the X on each of her breasts. “I can’t wait to take it off later.”
“I think it will hurt.”
“I’m sure it will.”
Lara closed her eyes and pressed her lips together.
“Your responses are intoxicating,” he told her.
“I think the tape feels tighter.”
“Even better. Now let’s get on with it.”
She turned away, and he swatted her ass. Giving a yelp, she headed for the bathroom.
A few minutes later, he took a box to her. She’d piled a bunch of personal effects on the vanity, and he said, “Go ahead and pack other stuff while I handle this.”
For an hour, they worked together. She’d pull out her items, he’d put them in a box, seal it and stow it in the car. “Anything else?” he asked, heading back inside after filling up the trunk. “We’ve still got room on the back seat.”
He found her on the floor, kneeling in front of her nightstand. She quickly closed the drawer.
“What do you have?”
“Nothing I need. It can stay here.”
“Show me.”
“This.” She opened the drawer and pulled out a small bullet vibrator.
“Perfect.” He held open his palm.
“I know that look,” she said.
“Bring it to me.”
On her knees, as he would have expected, she did so.
“You’re an apt pupil. Now get on your back.”
“I think whatever you have in mind is heartless,” she protested.
“You can’t begin to imagine how much.”
She sucked in a breath.
“Are you doing to make me repeat my request?”
They both knew it wasn’t a suggestion.
Lara sat on the bed then lay back. He went into the bathroom to clean the toy, and when he got back, she was still in the same position.
“Lift your hips.”
She did, and he pulled her panties and shorts down to her knees.
“Now spread your legs.”
Since she was already moist, the bullet slipped right into her pussy.
“What setting do you usually use?”
“I start on three. Sometimes I go as high as seven.”
“And you stroke yourself while you use it? Or do you just fantasize while it’s inside you?”
Her breaths were rapid. “I just imagine that I’m a captive.” She turned her head to the side. “I can’t believe I’m telling you this.”
“And that your orgasm pleases your captor?”
“Yes,” she whispered.
“Does he stand there and insist you come for him, or you’ll be punished?”
She whimpered.
“Does he?” He turned the vibe on, to four.
She cried out, lifting her hips.
“What’s the punishment if you displease him?”
“A spa…nking.”
He flipped her over.
She screamed.
“Does he let you hump the mattress? Or does he make you stay still, miserably so? I bet he does both, doesn’t he?”
She clawed at her rumpled sheets.
He took off his belt and wound it around her wrists, securing them together. Then he gave her hot little ass a sharp spank. “Answer the question.”
“Both!”
“I bet he leaves it inside you, doesn’t he, turning it up, wanting you to suffer for him first?”
“Yes. Yes.”
“Does he like your misery?”
“He smiles.”
“Oh, I imagine he does.” He stood where he was sure she could see him. Then he turned the setting to five.
She writhed.
“And what then? Does he give you more?”
Lara scooted up, as if trying to escape the pressure.
“What happens if you come too soon, Lara, and ruin his fun? Captives are made for their master’s pleasure, aren’t they?”
“Yes, Sir.” She turned her head.
“So you wouldn’t ruin his fun, would you?”
“No. No!”
He turned up the intensity.
“Sir. Oh, Sir!”
“Rub yourself on the bed, Lara, like a needy captive.”
As she moved, he turned it up again.
“What are you going to do now?”
She cried out, and the sound was garbled.
“Tell me what you want.” He smacked her, right beneath the swell of her ass. The cracking sound rent the air.
“Sir! I need to come.”
“Like a good little captive?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“You want to please your master?”
He saw her body go rigid.
“Ask.”
“Please. Please, Sir. If it pleases you, I’d like to come.”
“What pleases me is to watch you suffer.”
“Oh, God. Oh, God!”
“Count backward for me. From ten to one. Do not dare come before you get to one.” His cock tented his pants. He was throbbing, almost in time to her wiggles and cries. Damn, she was everything he’d ever wanted.
“Eight.”
“Hold it off or I’ll make you give me five more. I don’t care how much you cry and beg, captive.”
His harsh words made her shout out.
“Five.”
“Hold back that orgasm, my dirty princess.”
She started to gulp huge sobs.
“Four.”
Relentlessly, he turned the vibration up full force.
“Th…ree.” She choked.
“Wait.”
“Two.” She locked her knees.
He reached over and pinched her clit.
Lara screeched and clamped her thighs, coming against his hand, helplessly fisting the sheets.
“Beautiful, beautiful,” he soothed as he shut off the vigorous bullet.
She gave another few involuntary jerks as aftershocks claimed her.
He stroked her back even as he released her wrists. “So, so pleasing.” He talked to her, touched her and sat next to her until she let go of her powerful grip on the bedclothes. “In future, I may just keep you tied to my bed.”
“That’s what happens to captives,” she said softly as she turned her head to him. “At least in my fantasies.”
He left her only long enough to dampen a washcloth then he rejoined her to bathe her heated skin.
“Thank you for that,” she said. “But now, when I masturbate, the sound of your voice will fill my head. And the way you spanked me…” She closed her eyes for a moment. “That was more than I could have ever hoped for.”
“Maybe you thought I was joking about tying you to the bed and keeping you as my captive?”
She opened her eyes again, letting him see into her darkest secrets. “Maybe you thought I was joking that I’d let you.”
Chapter Eleven
“This is called a coup, Lara Marie.” Pernell picked up a pencil, snapped it in half and threw both of the pieces against the wall. “A goddamn betrayal.”
Lara took a deep breath but forced herself not to wince. Despite her father’s brutal words, she didn’t relent. Instead of arguing with his statements, she said, “I’m sorry you see it that way.”
All day, she’d dreaded this meeting. Obviously having known that, Connor had called a couple of times to offer support and to help her refocus on other business matters. For the first time in the last few years, she’d felt as if she weren’t so alone.
“I have a right to run my company in the manner I see fit,” Pernell said.
“As long as you’re executing your fiduciary duty,” she countered.
“Wh
ich I am.”
“I disagree.” Though he hadn’t responded to her repeated messages, she knew through her mother that he’d been busy talking to board members last night.
When she’d knocked on his door at four o’clock, she had been surprised when he’d answered.
He’d dispensed with any greeting and, instead, had demanded she take a seat.
She had, feeling prepared for anything.
Last night, she and Connor had role-played a dozen different scenarios, including the fact her father might resort to intimidation or bluster, even guilt. At one point, Helene had joined them via video conference call, just in case they’d missed something. Helene had warned that he might try to play on her emotions as a loyal daughter, saying it was her duty to support him.
Her mother and Connor had both coached her to remain resolute and not to succumb to emotional manipulation. Both had even offered to accompany her to the meeting. For a moment, before she’d knocked on Pernell’s door, she’d almost changed her mind and called them.
But now that she was face-to-face with him and his stubbornness, she drew on her own fortitude, the same determination that had driven her to approach Connor. She knew, without doubt, an intervention was the only way to stop Pernell’s thoughtless and potentially reckless actions. The only way she could live with herself was if she didn’t take the coward’s way out. “Connor will make a presentation. Mother will be there.”
“No one has to listen to him.”
“Not today,” she agreed. “But after Friday, they will. Connor and I are getting married.”
“You’re what? That goddamn bastard!” He leaped to his feet, face red. He slammed his hands on the desktop and leaned toward her. “He did this. He got to you after I told him to get the fuck out. I’m going to rip his—”
“Enough.” Then, more gently she added, “I love you, Daddy.” Lara’s emotions overflowed. She was still the little girl who’d happily jumped in the car for the ride downtown to follow him around. She was still the young executive who’d made her first presentation to the board. More than anything, she was still the person who loved her father too much to allow him to fail.
“He did this on purpose. When he couldn’t get his insulting offer past me, he went behind my fucking back. The crazy bastard wants my company. And he’ll do anything to get it.”
She said nothing. She’d learned a thing or two from watching Connor.
Finally, he sank into his chair. His spine was erect, and she saw fire in the eyes that were so like her own.
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