She washed her body twice, wasting time, hoping he’d join her, but he didn’t.
With a sigh, she turned off the water and dried her body.
Then, wondering where he was, she went back into the master bedroom.
She saw him near the bed, naked, cock fully erect. He took her breath away.
He’d removed the comforter and extra pillows from the bed. It no longer surprised her that he’d stacked everything in a perfectly aligned pile. A condom waited on the nightstand.
“Drop the towel and come to me.”
She did. Then, unable to help herself, she sank to her knees in front of him and took his dick into her mouth.
With her eyes closed, she surrendered to the moment, licking, tasting the saltiness of his pre-cum. He filled her mouth, and she stroked him with one hand while she curled her other around his testicles.
He groaned and dug his hands in her damp hair, imprisoning her head as he fucked her mouth.
His cock swelled, and she sucked the head, pressing her tongue to the underside of it.
“Damn…”
“Mmm,” she mumbled.
Kennedy tightened his buttocks, but before he came in her mouth, he said, “Stop.”
She debated whether or not to follow his order. He was close. She knew it, and it would only take another thirty seconds to get him off.
He fisted her hair, pulling on the strands. Her eyes watered, and she reluctantly let go. Kneeling back on her heels, she looked up at him.
“On the bed,” he instructed.
He looked so big, imposing, in charge. Nothing mattered to her but the moment.
She accepted his hand up then he swept her into his arms and laid her on the bed. “Thank you,” she said. “I was afraid I was going to have to pole vault to get up here.”
He didn’t have similar challenges. “Put your hands on the headboard.”
When she did, he pulled a pair of cuffs from beneath a pillow and secured her in place.
“I’ve wanted you all night,” he said. “Lift up.” He moved between her thighs, and she put her legs on his shoulders.
When he licked her clit, she jerked.
“You are turned on,” he said.
“Yes, Sir. I have been all night. You’re a master at torture.”
He sucked her then gently abraded her clit with his teeth. She arched. He responded to her movement by plunging his tongue inside her, only to pull out quickly then replace them with his fingers while he moved his tongue vigorously against her clit.
“Master Aldrich!” She wasn’t sure what she was asking for. More? Less? All she knew was that she was helpless. Overwhelmed.
Instead of finishing her off, he moved away long enough to roll the condom onto his thickened cock.
She watched through a hazy gaze. “Yes.”
“What?”
“I want you to fuck me.”
He wrapped one hand around her bound wrists, and she spread her legs as he lowered himself.
When his cockhead was at her entrance, she dug her heels into the mattress, urging him on.
His eyes were intense, hooded, and his jaw was set in a determined line.
She couldn’t imagine not having this, him. “Please,” she begged. “Give me your cock. All of it.” She wanted to put her arms around him but, as always, he was ensuring she knew who was in charge. Damn Dom.
He used his elbows to prop himself up then entered her in a powerful thrust.
She cried out.
“Is that what you wanted?”
With the plug and his cock, she was impossibly full. “Yes,” she said, the word wrapped around a whimper.
He fucked her, stroking in and out, changing the rhythm, not letting her know what to expect.
Taking the only control she could, lifted her hips.
He drove in deeper.
Their gazes were locked. She saw determination in his eyes. In their sexual encounters, he set the pace. She knew then that their earlier argument had been set aside, but it wasn’t over. When Kennedy wanted something, he pursed it. And he wanted her.
Despite the turmoil, she was on the verge of a climax. Right now, she wanted what he did.
He fucked her hard and deep without severing the emotional contact they had.
“Come for me,” he said.
His cock felt bigger as he shortened his strokes, filling her, the plug making it more intense.
“Now.”
She locked her legs around him and dragged him closer, screaming as her insides clenched.
He continued to pound her relentlessly. When he climaxed, she felt the heat of his ejaculation even through the condom. She was shattered.
Gradually, he lay beside her. As much as possible with her wrists bound, she turned onto her side, and he moved in behind her to hold her, cradle her.
“I know. You didn’t used to snuggle,” he said.
“You have to tie me up to make me,” she told him.
“Whatever works to have my wicked way with you.” He smoothed her hair and kissed the top of her head. “Sultry sub.”
For longer than she was comfortable with, he held her. Then, when the muscles in her upper arms began to fatigue, he released her bonds.
“Back into the shower,” he said. “I want to clean you up and take out the plug.”
“I am sure I can manage by myself.”
“Wasn’t a request.”
Adding clear intent to the words, he climbed from the bed, then grabbed her ankles and dragged her across the mattress and back into his arms.
“Do you always have to have your way?” She looked up at him.
“Yeah. I do. I will.”
“Kennedy—”
“We can pick up the argument another time. Not before bed.”
“It’s fine if we never go back to it.”
He put her on the countertop while he turned on the shower faucets and adjusted the temperature.
“I’m serious. I can take out the plug.” This was entirely too intimate.
“No problem.”
Which meant, she discovered a few minutes later, that he got to be a voyeur. “I’ll never survive this.”
“You will,” he assured her as he held her butt cheeks apart for her.
In the end, it wasn’t as bad as she’d feared. Probably an apt analogy for a lot of things.
After the shower, he took her to bed.
“It’s been over two years since I spent the night with someone. I’m not sure I’ll be a good partner.”
“It’s okay,” he said as he snuggled in behind her and pulled her hips back so that his cock was against her. “I have handcuffs, ankle cuffs, a blindfold, earplugs and a gag in the drawer. You’ll do fine.”
She narrowed her eyes, even though he couldn’t see her. “You wouldn’t.”
“I like my sleep. I go to great lengths to make sure I get it.”
“What if you’re the terrible partner?”
“Then we’ll have wild, swinging-from-the-chandelier sex until we’re both so exhausted it won’t matter.”
“Kennedy?”
“Zee?”
“I hope you sleep like hell.”
“Yeah. Me too.”
* * * *
Mackenzie woke up slowly. Her body felt stiff, her ass was tender and so was her pussy. She stayed still while dreams and reality separated. A vague memory teased, and she realized she and Kennedy had made love again during the night, something slow, soft, different from what they usually had.
Then… Nothing until now.
She turned over and saw she was alone.
As she listened, she heard him moving around. She sat up, propped a pillow behind her and dragged the sheet with her. She’d been hesitant to stay over, but there was something decadent about waking up in a bed this size, with sheets this soft, and with a fire blazing in the hearth. If she just had coffee…
Then, as if by magic, the coffee fairy arrived.
He didn’t look a t
hing like she might have imagined.
Kennedy was wearing tight black underwear that showed off his abs and lean legs. His jaw was unshaven, and his hair was sleep-mussed.
Mackenzie could hardly breathe.
“Good morning,” he said.
She couldn’t think of a better way to greet the day. “Is that for me?”
“Not until after you say good morning back.”
“Good morning, Master Aldrich,” she said.
“Much, much better.” He entered the room and sat on the edge of the bed. “I bought the brand I saw at your place. And I got some of that flavored stuff to put in it.”
She took a sip. “Manna.”
“You’re welcome.” He vanished into the bathroom, and she heard the shower running.
“How long have you been up?” she asked when he returned, a white towel slung around his hips.
“Couple of hours.”
“Hours?” she echoed.
“Had a good ride on the bike, went to the bakery downstairs and picked up some pastries for breakfast.”
“You don’t want me to leave, is that what’s going on here?” she demanded suspiciously.
“I’m not above bribing you with coffee and croissants.”
Her mouth watered. “Croissants?” How could he be so irresistible on every level?
“Chocolate, plain and with ham and cheese. Couldn’t decide.”
“So you bought them all?”
“I figured we could freeze what we didn’t eat. Not like there’s anything else in the freezer. Such is the life of a bachelor.”
“Your pitiful act isn’t going to get you anywhere with me.”
“I figured it didn’t hurt to try.”
“Let me clean up,” she said. “I’ll meet you in the kitchen.”
Twenty minutes later, she was dressed in jeans, her Cambridge sweatshirt and her tennis shoes. She’d left her hair somewhat damp and had gone with minimal makeup, her usual Sunday attire.
He’d placed a platter of croissants in the middle of the glass-topped breakfast table, and he’d poured her a glass of orange juice and a fresh cup of coffee.
A newspaper sat on top of the table.
“I thought I was the only one left on earth who still got a hardcopy paper,” she said.
“You are. I bought this because you’d enjoy it. But I want the comics.”
“One of the most powerful men on the universe wants the comics?”
“Brilliant stuff there,” he said. “I’ve grown up with some of those characters. Rite of passage.”
“I’ll take the business section,” she said. “And maybe arts.”
She couldn’t remember a Sunday morning she’d enjoyed more. Somehow, as she read, she’d propped a foot in his lap. And he didn’t seem to mind.
A few minutes later, she saw an article she liked so she ripped it out.
“What are you thinking?” he asked.
“Saving it for later. I don’t have a yellow pad and I’m too lazy to go look for something to write on.”
“So you shred the paper? I have scissors.”
“You know, Kennedy, someone’s going to come along and wreck your orderly little world.”
“Someone already has,” he told her.
“See then?” She smiled. “You thought you’d like it, but you really don’t.”
“Just because I use scissors or a precision knife doesn’t mean I can’t have a successful relationship.”
“Uh-huh.”
“What are you doing today?” he asked.
She frowned. “Bella and what’s-his-name have invited me to join them for the Patriots game at a sports bar downtown.”
“And?”
“It’s an early game, so it’s not like I can use the excuse that I’ll be out too late, but I really dislike going and supporting that kind of crazy-assed relationship.” She shoved the paper aside and wished it were that easy to get rid of all her problems. “But I like Bella. And I like football, and I enjoy watching it with other fans.”
“I’ll go with you.”
He couldn’t have stunned her more. “What? Why would you do that?”
“Because I have to take you home anyway. And it’s not like swinging by downtown would take that much time. It’ll save you from taking a taxi. I like the Patriots.”
The rest of his words remained unspoken.
“People will wonder. Talk.”
“I’m not scared.” He paused. “Are you?”
Damn him. He had to know by now that she couldn’t resist a challenge.
“Bella and James, that’s his name, already know about us. And going with someone will make it easier for you.”
She could just as easily invite Luella or Cathy. But he was right. He was taking her home, anyway.
“Besides, I have a jersey you can wear.”
She cocked her head to the side.
“Authentic team jersey. Worn by the quarterback during a playoff game and signed by him. Won it at a charity auction. If you show up wearing that, no one will even notice who you’re with.”
“You are really, really, really not playing fair, Mr. Aldrich.”
“At what point did you think I would, Ms. Farrell?”
“It’ll be too big for me.”
“Yep.”
“It’ll hang to my knees.”
“True again.”
“Worn during a game?”
He nodded.
“You had me at not having to take a taxi,” she confessed.
“I could have saved my jersey?”
“Could have. But it’s too late now.”
They cleaned up the breakfast dishes and washed them by hand since he admitted it would take a month or more to fill up the dishwasher.
When he pulled out the jersey for her, she realized how deep she was getting in. She told herself it was only for a couple more hours. Then she could get back into her regular routine.
“We should get you a turtleneck,” he said. “You can’t wear it without something under it.”
“I thought you might like that.”
“If you’d like to stay here and watch the game on my big-screen television, that’s fine. But we’re not going out with a bunch of rowdy men with you having a shirt so big it shows your navel.”
“That’s sound a bit bossy,” she said, even though she agreed with him. “Or possessive.”
“Both.”
“You win.”
“Interested in the war, Zee, not just the individual skirmishes.”
* * * *
Three hours later, she was dressed in a turtleneck and the jersey. Together, Mackenzie and Kennedy entered the sports bar.
James and Bella were sitting in a wooden booth, his arm was around her shoulders. Bella’s mouth fell open when she saw them. “You didn’t say you were bringing company.”
“Bella, delighted to see you,” Kennedy said, placing a hand on Mackenzie’s shoulder and giving it a good squeeze. “James.”
He gave her little push into the booth.
A waitress came over and shouted above the crowd. Kennedy ordered the local microbrew that had jumpstarted the entire craze and asked her if she’d prefer a wine. “Beer,” she said. “Goes best with football and burgers, and that’s what I want.”
Kennedy passed along her request.
“I didn’t know you two were an item,” Bella persisted when the game cut over to a commercial break.
“I ask her to marry me about, what, once a day?”
“Every freaking hour is more like it,” she said, jaw tight.
He shrugged.
“Serious?” Bella asked.
“Serious,” he affirmed.
“So when’s the big day?”
“Not happening,” she said. She glared at Kennedy, but since he was busy accepting the beers from the waitress, he ignored her. Regardless, she was willing to bet he would have ignored her even if he wasn’t distracted. “So what’s up with you two?” she asked
.
Bella’s eyes were wide and, too late, Mackenzie realized it was a question she shouldn’t have asked since the pair had been having issues again.
Kennedy stepped in. “James, how do you think the Patriots will do in the playoffs?”
Clever. He’d assumed the team would make the cut. He hadn’t offered his own opinion. And he’d structured the question so that the man had to form a thoughtful answer.
Under the table, he squeezed her leg. For a second, a quick one, she skimmed her fingers across the back of his hand.
The Patriots won, and Kennedy ushered her out of the door before there was time for any personal chitchat.
“Thank you,” she said. “I say that a lot, don’t I?”
“I’ve got your back,” he told her.
It was the first time a man had ever told her that.
Since she had a million things to do before work, they’d agreed he wouldn’t stay.
“Hand me your phone,” he told her when he’d pulled to the curb in front of her home.
“I…”
Silently, he waited. With a sigh, she fished it out of her purse and handed it over after typing in her passcode.
He programmed in his number then, as he gave it back said, “Call me.”
“Kennedy…”
He unfastened his safety belt and scooted back his seat. His intent enveloped her, and he leaned over to kiss her deeply, in a way that left her shaken and wanting so much more.
“Call me,” he repeated.
With his words and his action, he’d shifted some of the burden of a continuing relationship onto her. “This isn’t fair,” she protested.
“And your point is?”
He grabbed her overnight bag from the back seat then walked her to the door.
“Wait. Your jersey.”
“Keep it,” he said. “I like the way it looks on you. You’re welcome to come and watch the game next week at my place.” His eyes darkened in a way that told her he was lusting for her. “As long as that’s the only thing you wear.”
“Pervert,” she said, glad to be back to the easy banter, while knowing it wouldn’t last.
* * * *
Mackenzie was losing her mind, from the inside out. She wanted him. She wanted not to want him.
On Friday, she’d heard from Niral from Kennedy’s HR department. Even though she and Kennedy weren’t talking because they were at odds over his demands, he’d kept his word. Which meant he was honorable. If she had been considering a relationship, that would be another mark in the Kennedy-Yes column.
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