She twisted underneath him, trying to buck him off her, but he was heavy, all muscle. And he played dirty, pressing his hard, hot cock against her, rubbing it back and forth against her panty-covered clit.
“You think so?” she panted, gasping at the incredible friction of his body gliding against hers, his chest brushing against her tight nipples. She played dirty herself, getting one leg out from under him, wrapping it around his hip, trying to use it as leverage to wiggle her way out, but only wound up with her core pressed even tighter against his erection.
“You are a bad, bad girl, Ms. Rickman.”
Oh, she was trying, and she had a lot of lost time to make up for. She wiggled her other hip, trying to get her still-trapped leg out from under him, but she hadn’t counted on his fast hands. He slipped one between their bodies and then between her legs, nudging her panties out of the way. “This turns you on, doesn’t it, kitten?” He didn’t wait for an answer. “You’re wet and ready for me.”
And then he plunged a finger deep inside her and she gave up all pretense of trying to get away. “Oh, God.”
“You want this, don’t you?” She didn’t speak, just made some agreeable noises. And then he removed his hand.
“Don’t stop!”
“Not done yet.” He pushed himself to his knees, straddling her. “Loosen your legs for me.” She hesitated, and he slapped her thigh lightly. “We’re still in my world. I let you get away with ignoring my orders before, but behave, or you’re going to see for yourself what punishments are like.”
At his admonishment, she fell still for a heartbeat or three, then slowly opened her legs as he’d ordered.
Suddenly, he shifted them so she was on top, resting on him. “Easy, babe.” He murmured the soft words in her ear, calming words, and his hands stroked along her back. It took a few long moments for it to sink in, to realize he’d misread her hesitation as fear.
Good lord, could he be any sweeter? On the heels of that thought came another, less pleasant one. It was almost as though he assumed he had to treat her with kid gloves so she wouldn’t freak out. She didn’t like the feeling that left in her stomach. She dropped her head to his chest.
“Bec? Look at me, babe.”
When she opened her eyes, his face showed rueful regret. “I pushed too hard.”
She couldn’t stop the semi-disgusted snort that came from her mouth. She scrambled off him and paced the floor. “You didn’t. And you shouldn’t have to worry. I baited you on purpose. I knew what I was doing when I put on the underwear and when I didn’t let you go.” She strode to the window and looked out at the valley below turning into shadows in the fading light. “And just now. Why did you stop?”
“You froze.”
“No, I didn’t. I hesitated. That’s not the same thing. I actually paused because I was shocked at how much I wanted to follow your order.”
Understanding dawned in his eyes. “Fuck, kitten. I’m sorry. I just assumed—”
She couldn’t keep the bite out of her voice. “You assumed wrong.”
He came up behind her, his reflection serious as he put one arm around her waist, drawing her close. He slipped his other arm under hers and then up across her shoulder, holding her tight. It felt good to be held like this by him. Safe. Secure.
Possessed.
“I assumed wrong. I guess I wanted you to know that if you’re struggling with what we’re doing or how it makes you feel, you don’t have to slay that dragon alone. I was just trying to tell you I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere unless you tell me to. Got it?”
She leaned back into him, appeased by his explanation. Warmed by it, too. The truth was she’d be lost if he decided he didn’t want to put up with her emotional baggage, because it could show up unexpectedly like it had out on the deck. How could she feel this way after only three days? Well, five years and three days, but how? Her throat grew tight. “Got it.”
“Good.” He used his teeth on her earlobe then licked a path from it down to her shoulder. “Now, it’s time to go lose what few clothes you have on.”
She shivered, but looked over her shoulder and tossed him a grin. “What makes you think I’m the one who’ll end up naked?”
* * *
She ended up naked.
Right now, she was lying on her back, her hands over her head and her fingers curled around the upper edge of the mattress as ordered. Her body had a light sheen of oil on it, thanks to Jeremy’s talented hands. Her legs were spread, and she was waiting for him—the sneaky card shark—to come back into the room with the candles he was going to use on her.
Wax play. What the hell had she been thinking agreeing to that as a winner-takes-all kind of thing? He’d made it sound forbidden but tempting and he’d told her, as he had at every turn in these crazy few days, that she could say red and he’d stop. Immediately. She trusted him to keep his word, and she trusted him not to be lying about how much she’d enjoy it.
She was going for it.
He came in the room and put a few things down on the bed, then got on his knees between her spread thighs. “Shit, you look sexy like this. Where’s my camera?”
She narrowed her eyes. “Don’t even think—”
“Hey, you can’t blame a guy for trying, as hot as you look.” He reached over, scooped something off the bed, and held it up.
It was a slim white candle, and her jaw dropped. “Is that a Hanukkah candle? Because that...I don’t know about that.”
He grinned. “No, but it’s where I got the idea. I saw your candles on your counter the other day, and I found this in the kitchen drawer when I was getting our snack ready earlier. It’s an emergency candle. Similar kind of wax. Good for beginners.”
“Um, yay?”
“You’ll see.” He lit one of the candles and tilted it over his own lightly-oiled stomach, holding it steady until melted wax dripped down onto his skin. She watched him carefully as he sucked in shallow breaths while he moved it back and forth. He did that for a few minutes until his abs were covered with rivulets of wax and his eyes changed from blue to green. A bulge tented his flannel pants, and when he spoke, his voice was thick. “Ready?”
God, yes. He looked like he’d loved that, and watching his stomach quiver had made her own skin grow hot and tight. “I...yes.”
“Don’t let go of the bed,” he warned, and then he tilted the candle directly over her stomach.
The wax hit it with a soft plop and it took a moment for the sting to register. She gasped, but before she could process it, he let another fall, and another, and another. He moved the candle back and forth as he’d done to himself, and soon she was writhing on the bed, arching her back up to meet the wax as it fell, but she never took her hands off the mattress.
“You good, kitten?”
“Please don’t stop.” She kept saying those words over and over again, in her head or out loud, she didn’t know. The sensation was like nothing she’d ever felt, and she had no idea why those little points of fleeting pain made her so very wet, but they did.
He laughed lightly. “Ready for a little more heat?”
She arched up at his words, even though he hadn’t done anything different yet.
His voice was a low rumble. “I guess so. Close your eyes, babe. And I want you to keep them closed.”
Her eyes fluttered shut and then he leaned forward and kissed her stomach, swirling his tongue in her belly button. There was a moment of nothing, and then—
“Oh, God!” Hot wax fell on her nipple and her back bowed, but Jeremy’s hand kept her from coming off the bed. She squeezed her eyes and her hands closed at the same time as another stream of wax hit her other breast. Air leaked from her lungs in a long hiss.
“Incredible, kitten. You look fucking incredible decorated in wax.” He played for a while, dripping it on different spots on her body until her mind was screaming for more, anything, everything.
And then, without warning, he entered her with his fingers, pumpi
ng them fast as he dripped wax across her lower belly, making her stomach muscles clench. Her hands slipped free of the mattress and she leaned up. Wax hit her mound and she screamed, coming hard around the fingers still inside her.
She came for what felt like forever, crude words tumbling from her mouth, as she begged Jeremy to fuck her, to take her, to make her his.
“Not yet,” he murmured, stroking her gently, lying down beside her and pulling her close. “I’m still not done with you. Not by a long shot.”
Her emotions were high and she wanted to cry but she wasn’t sure why. She wanted him now, but difficult as it was, she decided not to push. He’d given her so much already today, had proven to her time and again that he wasn’t like Sam, that he wouldn’t make her regret speaking her mind and sharing her deepest, darkest desires. She shoved aside all the noise in her brain and instead lay with her head on his chest, her body feeling like it had been cut free from the earth, floating.
* * *
Jeremy pulled into Becca’s driveway and turned off his car. It had been four fantastic days, and he hadn’t wanted to leave their private cabin hideaway. And now that they were here, at her house, he didn’t want to go home by himself either, but he had work tomorrow.
They got out of the car and he held out his hand. “After you.”
She’d been quiet on the ride back, and she looked a little lost, almost as if she was unsure of what would come next now that they were back in the real world.
Because you didn’t tell her what you were thinking, jackass. All the talking you did, and none of it a conversation about what you see for a future together. He grabbed her bags and followed her up the stairs, waiting as she unlocked the door, his brain scrambling to come up with the right words to tell her how he felt.
“I, uh...”
“Kitten, I...”
They both laughed, though hers was soft and rueful.
“You first.” She took off her jacket and hung it on the rack in the hallway. The rack that still gave him all kinds of ideas about tying Becca up, even now. Especially now. She hesitated, then held out her hand for his jacket.
His heart twisted at her tentative actions. He could feel her slipping away from him, and he wasn’t sure what to do to halt her retreat. “Stay with me at my place tonight. I have to work tomorrow, but I want you to stay with me.”
She worried her lip. “I don’t know if that’s such a —”
He cut her off before she could say it, a sudden sense of panic making him blurt the bald truth. “I want you, Rebeccah. In my house, in my bed, in my life.”
Her eyes widened. “You do?”
Christ. “Yeah, I do.”
“But you didn’t say...” She turned bright red, but squared her shoulders and looked him in the eye. “You made me come more times than I can count, and that was amazing. But you didn’t say you wanted any more from me than that, and you only had sex with me once. I thought...no. I didn’t know what to think.”
And that would be why, before Becca, he’d always hesitated to date women who weren’t part of this lifestyle. Not that it was a game to him, but they understood the rules and the way Doms liked to play. It wasn’t her fault she didn’t understand, it was his. He knew she wasn’t experienced, not with sex and definitely not with D/s. Obviously, she’d taken not yet as not ever again, and that was on him. “I did have sex with you, and more than once. With my mouth and my hands and my dick.” He paused, took a deep breath and jumped in with both feet. “And kitten? It’s not just sex with you. It’s making love. All of it.”
Her mouth widened into a wide O, but no sound came out except for a husky, indrawn breath.
He grabbed her hand, tugging her to the living room. “You’re speechless. I don’t believe it.”
She grinned fleetingly and smacked him on the shoulder, then placed her hand against his heart. “That’s how it is for me, too, though I’m sure you already figured that out.”
He hadn’t, but he’d damned sure hoped. He put his hands on her shoulders, rubbing his thumbs against the column of her neck. He raised a brow at her. “So what did you think, that I made you come over and over again so I wouldn’t have to have sex with you?”
She dropped her head and his gut started to ache. He’d been teasing, but apparently he wasn’t far off the mark. His throat got tight, his muscles tighter, and his temper balanced on a razor’s edge. “All that time we spent together, and you were worried about that? Jesus, did you even enjoy any of it?”
Her head flew up, her eyes ripe with dismay. “I loved everything we did. But what was I supposed to think when you kept telling me no and not yet? I still don’t know why you did that.”
He stepped back, scrubbing his hand over the back of his neck.
“Jeremy?”
His stomach was still sour, and he had to work to put calm in his voice. He wasn’t mad at Becca. He was ticked off at himself. As a Dom—as her Dom—he was responsible for her well-being, both physically and mentally. “I fucked up. I thought you understood, but I should’ve made sure you did. My fault, kitten.”
She got right into his personal space, her hands on her hips, her eyes flashing. “And it’s mine for not asking you to explain. I should’ve, instead of keeping it all inside. Now we’re even, so can we move past this to the explanation? Please?”
He nearly smiled, even though his heart ached that she’d been so worried. He loved the way she stood up to him, giving as good as she got, and wasn’t that what he’d always wanted in a woman? Someone who would get on her knees for him in the bedroom but would have no problems telling him he was being a jerk.
Before he could tell her that, before he could explain, there was a heavy knock on the door. He looked over at Becca. “You expecting anyone?” When she shook her head, he went to the door and looked through the window. His jaw cranked tight. Just what they needed. “I think it’s your ex.”
“What?” She went for the door but he drew her back with an arm around her waist. “Wait, babe. Let me answer it.”
She frowned. “Why?”
“Because I don’t trust him.” He skimmed his knuckles down her cheek. “Wait here. Please.”
Another knock. “Open the door, Rebeccah. I want to talk to you. I know you’re home.”
Jeremy opened it just enough so he could see Sam, but Sam couldn’t see all the way inside Becca’s house. His blood simmered. This was Sam, the bastard who’d struck her face in anger, who’d humiliated her and shamed her for her desires. It took everything he had not to plant a fist in the guy’s face. “Can I help you?”
Sam looked startled. “Who are you? Where’s Rebeccah?”
“I’m a friend of hers.” Before he could say anything else, Becca stepped up beside him. Jeremy would bet she didn’t know she’d done it, but as she stood next to him, she leaned into him. He put his hand on her back for support.
“What do you want, Sam?”
“To talk with you. Alone.”
Becca shook her head. “No. Whatever you have to say, you can say in front of him.”
Sam’s mouth thinned. “You’re alone in a house with a man who isn’t your husband. That’s not the way a proper Jewish woman acts, Rebeccah.”
Christ, was this guy for real? And then Jeremy felt his eyes pop wide. He’d been right, and this was why Becca had blanched when he’d teased her about being a nice Jewish girl.
She went rigid under his hand, but outwardly, she remained calm. “You know what? I don’t care how you think a proper Jewish woman should act. You no longer get any say in what I do. What do you want, Sam? Jeremy and I are busy.”
Jeremy hid his grin. His kitten had claws and he liked it, a lot. Turned him on, truth be told, to see her standing up for herself. Not that he was surprised. He knew she wasn’t the doormat she said she never wanted to be. He’d never thought that of her.
Sam frowned. “Jeremy? That cop you always ride with on your mitzvah? I never should’ve allowed that.”
&nb
sp; There was more than a hint of anger in Sam’s voice and Jeremy heard it. He doubted the guy would be stupid enough to pull anything, but he wasn’t taking chances with Becca’s life. He wrapped his arm around her waist and held her close. He didn’t care how it looked.
She sighed, ignoring the jibe. “Just tell me why you’re here, Sam.”
“This.” He held an envelope out at her. “What’s the meaning of this?”
“It’s yours. I don’t want your money, I don’t want your house. Why is it so hard to understand I want a fresh start? I’ve moved on. You need to do the same.”
To Jeremy’s shock, she moved even closer to him. Close enough his hand slid from her waist to her hip, a movement Sam didn’t miss.
“You’re making a big mistake, Rebeccah.” He tossed out another few words in a different language, leveled a glare at Jeremy, and then he was gone.
Jeremy blew out a breath and turned to Becca, who was still leaning up against him. She looked disgusted and relieved at the same time. He tucked some hair behind her ear. “You okay, kitten?”
“He didn’t approve of you being here.”
“Too fucking bad.” He locked the door and drew her to the sofa, pulling her onto his lap. “What did he say to you in, what, Hebrew?”
“No, Yiddish. And you don’t want to know, trust me. It’s not very nice.” She sighed and leaned into him. “I don’t care, though. He doesn’t have the power to hurt me anymore.”
He wrapped his arms around her and sat back against the sofa, just holding her. “You’re something else, you know that, kitten?”
“You’re not so bad yourself, Officer Kohler. Thanks for standing guard. And for letting me say what I needed to say.” She rubbed her face against his shirt, right over his heart. “I don’t know why I ever thought you were like him.”
His heart stuttered. “You don’t believe that anymore?”
* * *
Becca pushed back and stared at Jeremy. It took her a moment to realize that, for all his emotional strength, her words had hurt him. “I don’t think I ever really did. I was scared, yes, of the words you used. But no, I don’t believe you’re like him. If I did, I couldn’t do this.” She slid from his lap to the floor, resting on her knees. “I wouldn’t do this.”
Matzoh and Mistletoe Page 11
