The Bondage Club
Page 4
“He was already married,” she admitted.
“Married? Did you know?” Hunter pulled a bottle of Gray Goose vodka from the fridge and went to a white-painted cabinet above the sink.
“He told me when we first started seeing each other about his wife. He said they were separated and were going to get a divorce.”
Hunter smirked as he placed two glasses on the bar before her. “But he had no intention of leaving her, is that it?”
“He said she was going to want half of everything he had in a divorce and he could not afford it. So I told him marry me or else.”
Hunter poured three-fingers of vodka in each of the glasses. “And he chose ‘or else,’ right?”
She picked up one of the glasses. “What’s wrong with me, Hunter?”
“Nothing, Kat.” He put the bottle on the bar as he took in her pouty pink lips. “You know you’re beautiful, a great photographer with a very successful career, you’re smart, and funny, and—”
“Why can’t all the men I’m with see those things?” She lifted the glass to her lips and downed a quick gulp. Wincing, she put the glass back down on the bar. “You were the only man who really cared about me. I should have married you when you asked.”
He grabbed for his glass as his heart stung at the mention of her refusal to marry him. “That was a long time ago. You said you needed space to pursue your career and you were right. Look at you now. You’re one of the top photographers in Atlanta.”
Her long fingers stroked the rim of her glass. “Yeah, I have my career, but not the husband and family I wanted. Why can’t I have both?”
Hunter took a quick sip of the vodka, hoping to fortify his ability to resist her. “You can have both. Just stop dating married assholes.”
She smiled and stood from her stool. “You’re right. You were always right. That’s what I could always depend on with you, Hunter. You told me the truth.”
He set the glass on the bar as she cozied up to his side. “I’m your friend, Kat. When you moved out, we promised each other we would stay friends.”
She ran her hands up his white shirt and began undoing the buttons. “We’ve stayed a hell of a lot more than friends.”
Hunter let out a defeated sigh. All she had to do was touch him and his resolve to push her away melted. “Please don’t. We’ve got to stop doing this.” He held her hands.
Kathleen lifted his fingers to her lips. “Stop doing what?” she playfully teased, kissing his fingers.
She sucked on the tip of his index finger as her eyes carefully weighed his reaction.
Hungrily licking his lips, Hunter inched his mouth closer to hers. “Every time you break up with a boyfriend, you come here and we end up in bed together.”
She lowered his hand from her mouth and placed it against her left breast, letting his fingers move back and forth over her erect nipple. “I need to know I’m still wanted. Do you want me, Hunter?” Her hand traveled to the crotch of his pants. “Do you?”
The blood was pounding through his veins and his debilitated defenses crumbled. Pulling her roughly into his arms, he cursed his weakness for her. Of all the women he had known, Kathleen was the only one who could continuously walk back into his life and make him want her just as much as the first day they had met.
When his lips came down on hers, there was no tenderness or emotion for Hunter. This was lust, pure and simple. He wanted to spend a few moments reliving the passion of his youth with the only woman he had ever loved. It may not have been healthy, but he knew it would sure be satisfying.
He stood back from her, took her hand, and led her to the metal staircase. Looking up, he hesitated as his eyes drifted up to the third floor of his loft.
She curled into his side. “What is it, baby?”
His gut filled with doubts as he brushed the long hair from her face. “Perhaps we should…not do this.”
Laughing, Kathleen took his hand and pulled him toward the stairs. Hunter let her lead him up the metal steps, past the informal sitting room and exercise area he had on the second floor, to the third floor bedrooms. Passing up the small green and gold guest room that Hunter used as an office, she guided him into the master bedroom with its roof of skylights, and king-sized raised bed with a dark walnut cubicle headboard.
Kathleen went to the open master bath to the side of the room and peeked inside to the glass shower and white marble vanity. She smiled as she took in the clutter of aftershave, toothpaste, and other assorted toiletries that filled the vanity countertop. “Still a pig, I see.”
Hunter crossed to the walk-in closet next to the bathroom. “Maid doesn’t come until Friday.”
Kathleen stepped from the bathroom. “Maid? Well, aren’t you becoming quite the successful businessman? You never believed in maids.”
“I could never afford a maid before, and working sixty plus hours a week makes housework impossible.”
She pulled her T-shirt over her head and dropped it on the floor. “How about a girlfriend?”
Hunter had to concentrate on the question as his eyes homed in on her full breasts. “You know I don’t need one of those.”
Kathleen went to the bed and reclined over the gold bedspread. “Yes you do, Hunter.”
He removed his shirt and tossed it aside, enamored by her glowing skin. “Let’s not talk about that now.”
Kathleen unzipped her jeans and wiggled out of them. “You’re not happy, Hunter. You need a woman to make you happy.” She let her jeans and underwear fall to the floor.
“You sound just like my mother when you talk that way, Kat.” Angling over her naked body, he was fascinated by the curve of her narrow hips. She sat up and tugged at the zipper on his blue trousers.
Hunter kissed her neck as her hands worked his trousers and boxers over his firm, round butt. Once he had kicked the clothes to the side, he encircled his arms about her. The softness of her skin made him grow hard. He could smell the honeysuckle shampoo in her hair, and when he kissed her shoulder, she tasted sweet, like strawberries dipped in cream.
Kathleen’s hands gripped his round butt. “I forgot how good your ass feels.”
Nipping the nape of her neck, Hunter’s hands eagerly roamed over her hips, squeezed her heart-shaped butt, and kneaded the long muscles in her back. When his fingers began to tease her left nipple, she wrapped her long legs about his hips. Desperate for him, Kathleen fondled his erection and then rubbed it against her wet folds.
“Patience, sweetheart,” he moaned into her neck.
Depositing kisses down her chest, he kneeled between her legs, spreading her knees wide apart. When his lips hovered over her folds, Kathleen’s fingers clutched his hair, anxious for his mouth to close in. Easing her delicate flesh open, he first flicked his tongue over her sensitive nub. Kathleen’s grip tightened on his hair, and when he started sucking on her, her thighs quivered against his cheek.
“Yes,” she cried out as his teeth grazed her flesh.
When she came, her orgasm threw her back against the bed and she let out one long, impassioned scream.
Hunter grinned and kissed her thigh. He loved that sound; the animal-like cry of a woman in ecstasy. “Now you’re ready for me,” he whispered against her flat stomach.
While Kathleen caught her breath, he slid his hands beneath her butt and angled her hips upward. Without warning, he dove into her, pushing as far as he could go. Kathleen sighed as he entered her. Pulling out, he thrust into her again, pressing her body into the bed. She raised her hips and held on to his shoulders.
“Do it harder,” she commanded.
Wanting to please her, Hunter pounded into her with wild abandon. Soon, she was calling out his name as her body undulated beneath him. But Hunter wanted more. When she stilled, he withdrew and flipped her over. Positioning Kathleen on her knees, he forced her head down into the bed and then brutally entered her again. The act reminded him of something he had read in Smut Slut’s manuscript. The heroine of the story had p
referred to be entered ruthlessly from behind, and liked it when a man spanked her bottom as he penetrated her. Hunter ran his hand along the curve of Kathleen’s small, round butt and was tempted to experiment. Lifting his hand, he gently tapped it against her ass.
Kathleen flinched. “You’ve never done that before.”
Hunter paused, eager to discover her thoughts. “Did you like it?”
She backed her hips into him. “Do that again.”
This time he did not hold back and slapped her ass, hard.
“Yes,” Kathleen squealed.
He rammed into her as his hand spanked her bottom. Kathleen lowered her head and gripped the bedspread. With every deep and merciless thrust, he slapped her behind, until she began bucking beneath him and screaming with pleasure. The rough sex only heightened his desire, and he held off as long as he could before the urgency of his climax became unrelenting. Clasping his hands about her hips, he slammed into her with every ounce of strength he possessed. Sweat was beading on his forehead when that relieving tingle started to climb from his groin, up his back, and then explode throughout his body. Grunting loudly, he finally came and then collapsed on the bed, completely spent.
Listening to the sound of his rapid breathing, Hunter wiped the trickle of sweat from his brow. Kathleen turned to him and ran her hand along his muscular chest.
“Since when were you into the rough stuff?”
He let his hand flop down on the bed as his eyes went to the skylights above, taking in the twinkle of stars. “Never.”
“You ever have fantasies about tying a woman up and having your way with her?”
“Nah. I was never into that. I just got the idea from a book I’m going to publish.”
“Must be some book.” She cuddled against him. “We might have to do it that way again.”
“Again? We shouldn’t have done it this time, Kat.”
Her hands swept down to his groin as she placed her lips against his ear. “I liked being your bad little girl.”
Hunter let out a long breath as a myriad of unhappy memories of their life together inundated him. “Yeah, I remember.”
She giggled next to him. “But you liked it when I was bad, right?”
“Liked wondering where you were half the time? No, I didn’t.” Fuming, he pulled away from her. “You would just disappear and never tell me where you were going or who you were with. You made my life hell, Kat.” Shaking his head, Hunter shimmied to the edge of the bed.
She sat up, gathering the sheets about her. “You knew how I was when we lived together. I needed my space sometimes. I never meant to hurt you. But I’ve changed. I want a life with someone now.”
He stood from the bed. “Let’s not do this again.” He was about to turn to his bathroom when she stopped him.
“Where are you going?”
He pointed to his bathroom. “To take a shower.”
“Do you want me to come with you?” She smiled suggestively.
He eyed her half-naked body and then thought about the work he needed to do. Inexplicably, the idea of work appealed to him more than a night of dealing with Kathleen’s ego. “No. I have a lot of work to do tonight.”
She scooted to the edge of the bed. “But I thought we weren’t finished.”
He was growing weary with her need for constant attention. “I’m just tired, Kat, and I don’t feel like playing games with you.”
“What games?”
“You know what I’m talking about.” He waved his hand between them. “This. We do this every time you come over. We sleep together, start talking about us, and you begin hinting that you want to try again. Then, you sneak out in the middle of the night while I’m asleep and I never hear from you until the next guy dumps you.”
“You asshole! You make me sound like some kind of pathetic….” She stood up. “I don’t need this shit from you.”
“Why are you getting mad at me? It’s the truth, Kat.”
She quickly began picking up her clothes from the floor. “You always were a heartless prick, Hunter.”
“I’m heartless?” He pointed to his chest. “Kat, you were the one who ran away from everyone who tried to help you. You ran out on me and every other man you—”
“That’s bullshit!” She struggled to pull her T-shirt over her head. “You’re just jealous. I always knew what I wanted and went for it. I’m a renowned photographer, you said so yourself. I stuck with my dreams, but you’re the one who ran away from yours. You gave up on your novel. You let your father and brother bully you into working in that crappy little publishing business.” She shoved one of her legs through her jeans.
“If that’s what you think, then why do you always come running back to me when your life turns to shit? You jump into my bed and then run off, making me feel like you just made the biggest mistake of your life. I’m sick of…whatever this is.”
She zipped up her jeans and tossed back her long brown hair. “You can say what you want about me, but at least I’m living my dreams. What are you doing?”
She bolted from the bedroom, and Hunter listened as her feet furiously trotted down the stairs. When the front door finally closed with a loud bang, he leaned his shoulder against the entrance to the bathroom and ran his hand over his hair.
“Son of a bitch. I let her get to me again.”
Turning for the bathroom, Hunter berated his inability to push his ex away. Every time he let Kathleen back into his life for the briefest instant, it always turned out badly. When would he learn his lesson? But as he flipped on the hot water in the shower, he recalled their interlude in bed and the way she had responded to his playful roughhousing. Things had always been pretty good with them between the sheets, but never quite like that. Shrugging off their fight, he decided that he had liked the change of pace in bed. Showing a woman who was boss appealed to him. Hunter questioned if that was why erotica books were so popular. It opened the reader to a new realm of possibilities; possibilities of pleasure that had only been whispered about but never indulged.
Smiling at the potential bankroll this could give Donovan Books, Hunter stepped below the rushing water. “I think I’m gonna like erotica. I think I’m gonna like it a whole lot.”
Chapter 4
Hunter had been anxiously waiting for Cary Anderson’s first day at Donovan Books. He wanted to get started on his new erotica line, especially after his experience with his ex. Ever since that night with Kathleen, he had been interested in learning more about the different forms of pleasure that Smut Slut had written about with detailed accuracy in The Bondage Club. After having purchased a few of his new client’s e-books, he spent his nights with his Kindle in hand, eagerly reading her stories of love, sex, and bondage. By the time Cary walked into the offices of Donovan Books that Monday morning, Hunter was eager to learn all he could about the ins and outs of the erotica genre.
Waiting for Cary to arrive, he was at his desk, going through a stack of messages. Most were from writers wanting to hear if their manuscripts had made the grade for publication, some were from writers already signed by his house and curious about the current status of their books, and then there was one message from his father that had been left earlier that morning with the words Call Me written across the bottom of the yellow slip of paper and circled with red ink for emphasis. As Hunter was frowning at the message in his hand, Cary breezed in through his open office door.
“Good morning, Hunter,” she said in a voice that instantly washed away the heavy atmosphere in the room.
Hunter briefly admired her green floral dress and the way her bobbed hair was swept to the side. “Well, hello and welcome.” The air in his office filled with her floral perfume and Hunter stood from his desk, enraptured by the scent. “I hope parking wasn’t too bad for you. We only have two allocated spots outside.”
“No problem. I don’t live too far from here. I walked from my apartment.” She glanced back at the open door. “I hope it’s all right, Julia told me to
come straight up.”
“Yeah.” He cleared his throat, suddenly feeling nervous. “I need to get your key.” He opened a drawer in his desk and pulled out a brass key on a key ring.
She was still standing by the office door, eyeing the array of Alexander the Great statues on the bookshelf. “Who’s that? He looks familiar.” She pointed to the collection.
“My father is a nut about the ancient Greek conqueror, Alexander. He collected statues of him. There are a lot more at his house.”
“But why are they here?”
“This was my father’s office and he likes for me to keep it as he did.”
“But why?” she probed, furrowing her pale brow. “It’s your office now, right?”
He rubbed his hand holding the key across his chin, trying to come up with an explanation. “Yes, it’s my office, but my father is…a very long story.” He held up the key, wanting to change the subject. “This opens the front door. I set the alarm after everyone has left for the night and Julia, the receptionist downstairs, is always the first one here in the morning, so you won’t have to be bothered memorizing alarm codes.” He handed her the key.
Her brown eyes scrunched together. “Are you always the last one out of here…every night?”
“Just about. But I’m the head of the business; that’s what is expected of me.”
Cary tilted her head slightly to the side, studying his features. “Is it? I would think you would want to be home, spending time with your family.”
Hunter waved her to his office door. “I live alone. Don’t even have time for a gerbil.”
Cary stepped to the door, clutching the key. “I didn’t realize the publishing business was so demanding.”
“Neither did I until I took it over from my father ten years ago. Now I know why the man was never home when I was a kid.”
Cary entered a short corridor with fluorescent lights above and white linoleum tile on the floor. “My family was just the opposite. My dad was always home. My mom was the one who was never around.”