by M. S. Parker
That was it, I realized. Sex between the two characters had lost that edge, despite the inclusion of BDSM elements. In chapter sixteen, Chase was at work, and Leia wanted to see him, so she headed to the surf shop. He closed the store so they could go to his apartment over the shop and they had sex. All the right words were there, but they fell flat without any real tension, and I couldn't figure out how to fix it.
“Dammit!” I ran my hands through my hair. I'd been staring at this page for nearly twenty minutes and still didn't know how to make it say what I wanted.
I'd never had a problem with focusing. Being single-minded was part of what made me successful. When something was in my sights, nothing got in my way.
Until now.
I'd start reading, and the next thing I knew, I was remembering what it had been like watching Tanya bringing herself to orgasm for the first time. It didn't seem possible that someone as beautiful and sensual as she was had never gotten herself off before, but I had no doubt she'd been telling the truth.
It had to be that innocence that captured my attention. I'd had sex with a lot of women, and I'd ordered at least a few Subs to touch themselves in front of me. But none of them had ever managed to distract me from my work.
I'd never considered myself a possessive or jealous man. I didn't demand exclusivity from partners because I didn't want them to expect it in return. When a Sub showed how well she'd been trained, I never even considered being jealous of the man or men who'd had her before me. I'd appreciated the experience and knowledge they’d offered.
But there was something about knowing that I was the only man who'd ever seen every inch of her, watched her climax, felt her body shudder with pleasure under mine...I couldn't deny the appeal there.
What was actually freaking me out was that some part of me had moved beyond enjoying the idea of being her first, to wanting to be her only. What I'd felt at the club when I'd seen the way other men had looked at Tanya hadn't gone away. If anything, it was even stronger now that I knew what it was like to have her say she was mine.
I hadn't intended to say it, and I hadn't meant to make her respond. It'd just come out, and it'd felt so right that I'd gone with it.
And now I didn't know what to do.
I wanted her. That much was clear. I couldn't stop thinking about her. Thinking about what it was like to watch her fall over that edge. And then what I hadn't yet experienced but wanted to. Like opening my eyes one morning and coaxing her awake with my mouth.
That particular fantasy had been especially strong the last two mornings, and it wasn't doing anything to help my writer's block. If anything, it made it worse. All I could think about was Tanya and when I'd see her again. Each time I went through a scene that she and I had acted out, it was the two of us I saw in my head rather than my characters even though neither of us looked like Chase or Leia.
I sighed and turned away from my desk. I loved the view my office window gave, but I would've preferred to be staring at a screen, fixing this scene so that my book would be one step closer to finished.
I had a bad feeling that if I couldn't figure out whatever this was with Tanya, I wouldn’t get anything done, and I wasn't the sort of person who took kindly to the thought of not accomplishing something I'd set my mind to.
Twenty
Tanya
I hadn't realized it was possible, but Miss Foxe was actually getting more difficult with each passing day, insulting me, giving me all sorts of shit assignments. Coffee and lunch runs. Writing form letter rejections. Editing manuscripts she had no intention of ever sending back to the authors. And I knew if I made even one excuse about needing time to work on Heat of the Sun, she'd tell me that she could take it off my hands and that would be it.
So I'd been working through lunch every day, taking work home with me, barely having any time for myself. In a way, I supposed it was good since every second of my free time was spent thinking about Erik. No matter how much I wanted to believe he meant the things he said the last time we were together, I knew that making more out of it than it appeared was a bad idea. I needed to keep my head in the game so that I didn't accidentally do something extra stupid the next time I saw Erik.
Whenever that would be.
I hadn't spoken to him all weekend, and the more time that passed without contact, the more I worried that he regretted what happened between us at the club.
Which was why I was completely astonished to see Erik stepping out of the elevator, looking completely out of sorts. He ignored the startled looks he got as he headed straight for my desk.
I stood, smoothing down my skirt with nervous fingers before brushing at my shirt. I had a moment to hope that I didn't have anything stuck in my teeth, and then he was there.
“You need to help me with something.”
I blinked at his abrupt words, but before I could ask him what he meant, he grabbed my hand and pulled me after him. It was all I could do to keep up with him as he dragged me into a little-used corridor. He looked around for a moment, opened a door, and a moment later, we were standing in a supply closet.
“Are you okay?” I asked as my gaze ran over his disheveled hair, the dark circles under his eyes. There was something in his eyes too. Something that made me catch my breath.
He looked like he was about to speak, but then he covered my mouth with his instead. Something like desperation poured off of him as he clutched my arms, dragged me up against him.
When he finally tore his mouth from mine, our breathing was harsh. “I'm stuck.”
My mind spun, not processing the words for several seconds. Then, when I did, I still didn't understand.
He started to explain before I had to ask. “I've been trying to work on this scene for the past two days, and I can't get it right. I don't understand what's missing, why the scene isn't working right. And I can't figure it out without you.”
My stomach flipped at his words, and I reminded myself not to read into things. “What do you need?”
“You.” He kissed me again, backing me up against the door.
His arms locked me in, body pinning me in place. I should have felt panic or at least some sort of unease, but I didn't. He didn't need to tell me that he wouldn't hurt me, or that he'd stop if I just said the word. I knew it without having to hear it.
Besides, I wasn't about to stop him. My skin was humming, arousal pooling between my legs. I'd have been lying if I said that knowing I was at work didn't make it at least a little hotter. Either way, I wanted him.
“I haven't been able to stop thinking about you,” he murmured against my lips. “Dreaming about you.”
“Me too,” I admitted. I forced myself to focus on the one part I knew wasn't a mistake. “How can I help you?”
He grabbed my hips and turned me around. My hands slapped against the door, and I braced myself, body thrumming with anticipation. He pulled my skirt up, baring the plain white panties I wore underneath.
“This is what I need,” he growled against my ear. “To be with you, be inside you. To feel what Chase felt for Leia.”
“And what's that?”
He nudged my feet apart, and I heard a zipper, but he didn't answer me. I cried out as he buried himself inside me with one quick thrust. It was too much, and I pressed my fist against my mouth to muffle the sounds I made as he drove into me. It wasn't pain, exactly, but it wasn't exactly pleasure either.
Then he had his fingers on me, finding my clit with practiced skill. His touch wasn't gentle, but it was exactly what I needed. Then his free hand slid up my stomach and pushed under my bra, fingers pinching and twisting my nipple until I was writhing back against him, craving the release he promised with every touch, every stroke.
“So fucking good.” He nipped my earlobe. “Do you have any idea how amazing you feel?”
I assumed it was a rhetorical question because I didn't think I was capable of even a single word answer, and then I couldn't even think of my name because I was coming. My teeth
sank into my knuckles, and he groaned as I tightened around him.
“Fuck, sweetheart.” His hips jerked against me, and I felt his cock swell and pulse as he came.
And I wondered if I'd given him what he needed.
Twenty-One
Erik
It'd been four days, and I still couldn't believe that I'd fucked Tanya in a supply closet at Branch Publishing. And that I'd done it without a condom.
She hadn't been pissed at me when she realized it. She said she was on the pill, and she hadn't even asked if I was clean. I'd told her anyway, but she'd simply said that she trusted me.
Trusted me.
As a Dom, I understood the importance of trust, and I made sure my partners knew they could call things off at any moment and I'd listen. That was something else, a trust that went beyond the basics of pleasure and respect within a sexual situation. She was trusting me with her body in a way that no woman had ever done before. It had shaken me to the point that I'd walked three blocks before realizing I had a car service waiting for me back at Branch.
And when I'd gotten home, it was like something had opened up inside me.
I'd always had a good imagination, and I'd gotten good marks in English, so writing Heat of the Sun felt natural. I'd enjoyed creating the characters and the plot, and while it had still been work, it was the sort I liked. But it hadn't been the same as this.
I'd sat down at my desk, my head full of what had happened, and pulled up my manuscript, intending to polish the problem scene now that I understood what was missing. After making a few changes here and there to convey the urgency Chase had felt, the scene worked much better...but I still felt like something was missing.
When it finally hit me, I opened a new document and started writing.
That was Tuesday evening, and I'd barely done anything else since. I'd switched from desktop to laptop a couple times, my body needing a change of position every few hours or so, but I'd eaten – when I'd remembered – at my computer, taken quick showers, and slept only four to five hours each night.
I'd always been good at delegating, and it wasn't strange for me to go a whole week without going into the office, especially if the only meetings on my schedule were over the phone or video conference, so sending out an email saying that I'd be working from home wasn't anything new. What was new was that I'd postponed three meetings and spent all of my time on a new book.
It was now Friday morning, and I was both exhilarated and exhausted. I'd outlined every chapter, and my most recent word count stood at around twenty-two thousand. I'd never gotten so much done in such a short time, and while I knew there'd be edits and polishing needed, I was confident that the overall content was even better than Heat of the Sun.
I still thought my first book was good, but the one I had practically bursting out of me now was better. There was a different sort of depth to the characters, an edge to the plot. Heat of the Sun had conflict, but it was the sort of book that someone could read and know that, no matter what the protagonists had thrown at them, they'd find their way back to each other. Not that there was something wrong with that. I didn't dislike happy endings, and I was fairly certain that my new book would end up that way, but it had an uncertainty in it that wasn't in my previous story. It would keep the readers guessing, turning each page with an anxious anticipation, desperate to know that things worked out in the end.
At least, that's what I was hoping.
My knees popped as I stood, and the rest of my joints followed when I stretched. I'd been drinking coffee by the potful, but I hadn't eaten anything yet today, and my stomach was making its protests known. I needed to stop for lunch.
As I rummaged through my fridge to see what I had, bits of the last chapter I'd written floated around in my head. I'd let everything come out naturally for this book, so I hadn't tried to stop myself from basing the lead character on Tanya. Where thinking about her had distracted me from working on Heat of the Sun, this book had the opposite effect. My mind was full of her, and it fueled my work rather than hindering it.
The desire to see her was almost painful, the sort of primal urge that was nearly impossible to ignore. I was getting in deeper with her with every passing day, and I wasn't sure I could stop it. Or if I wanted to.
As I made myself a sandwich and grabbed an energy drink, a plan formed. One that let me indulge in what I wanted while still keeping myself at a safe distance. For it to work, before I got back to my book, I needed to do some shopping. It was time to test some more of Tanya's limits.
Twenty-Two
Tanya
I hadn't talked to Erik since our encounter in the supply closet, but I didn't want to make the first move, not after the awkward way we'd left things. I supposed I should have been mad at him for not asking before taking me without protection, but I'd meant what I told him. I trusted him. He wouldn't have risked me like that. We might not have been in a relationship, but he wasn't the sort of man who thought only of himself.
I wasn't worried about anything coming from what we'd done, but I was concerned about him letting it come between us. I had no illusions about what we were to each other, but I didn't want things to get weird again.
Except not having spoken to him since that afternoon made me feel like things were weird.
That, on top of the headache work had become, meant that by the time I got home on Friday evening, I was ready for dinner, wine, and lounging on the couch while I binge watched some shows that I'd gotten behind on over the last couple weeks. Normally, I'd read a book to unwind, but after I'd spent the week wading through stories, I needed to turn my brain off.
I'd just finished dinner and was cleaning up when someone knocked on my door. A little flutter went through me, a hope that maybe Erik had come by to tell me that he'd had a busy week but wanted to see me. The person on the other side, however, wasn't Erik. I pasted on a polite smile, pulled my robe more tightly around me, and opened the door.
“Sign here.” The guy sounded bored as he held out his clipboard.
The package was the size of a small book, wrapped in plain brown paper. My name and address were on the front, but I didn't see anything about who the sender was. I went over to the couch and settled on it, tucking my feet up under me. When I opened the box, there was a card on top of white tissue paper.
Join me on Skype before you finish opening your gift. - E
Curiosity made me want to disregard the instructions, but I knew that following them would be worth it.
I pulled out my couch, grabbed my laptop, and settled back in my bed. I'd make it before I slept, but I had a feeling I'd be more comfortable this way for whatever Erik had in store.
Less than a minute later, his familiar face appeared on my screen. And then I realized that he wasn't wearing a shirt. Or pants. Just a pair of dark gray boxer briefs that only served to remind me exactly what was underneath them.
“Is this a bad time?” He arched an eyebrow.
I answered his question with one of my own. “You bought me a present?”
“Well,” he gave me that slow, lazy grin that never failed to twist my insides, “technically, they're for you, but I plan on enjoying them as well.”
I pressed my hands together on my lap so he couldn't see them trembling. I'd always been a shy person, but rarely a fearful one. Something about Erik scared me though. Not in a physical sense, but rather that he made me feel things, want things, that I didn't want to believe I could have.
“Open it.”
His words brought me back to where we were, back to the place where it was only about the moment, the physical.
I folded back the tissue paper to reveal two things. The first was a delicate looking gold chain with beautifully worked butterflies on either end. Knowing what I did about Erik, I had no doubt the jewels in the wings were real chips of diamonds and rubies, but I couldn't quite figure out what sort of necklace it was.
Until I picked up one of the butterflies and saw that it didn't ha
ve a latch, but rather a clip. Then I remembered a later chapter in Heat of the Sun and realized it wasn't a necklace at all.
Shit.
Now I was rethinking looking at the second gift. I ran my thumb over the butterfly wing. Sort of. Okay, so nipple clamps weren't exactly a normal gift, but Erik and I weren't exactly a normal couple. Or a real couple at all.
I moved aside the rest of the tissue paper, and my entire body went hot. I didn't need a book to tell me what that was.
“You bought me–” My voice cracked. I couldn't say it. I could barely believe it, actually.
“Come now, sweetheart, you let me watch you at the club. Now you're in the comfort of your own home. That has to be easier.” Despite his coaxing tone, there was still that undercurrent of steel that made me feel the same way I had at the club, in the supply closet. Like I wanted to submit.
Like I was safe.
“Open up your robe,” he said. “Let me see what you have on under it.”
I swallowed hard as I set the box aside and untied my belt. As I parted the robe, he sucked in a breath.
“Tanya,” his voice was low, dangerous, “did you answer your door wearing nothing but a robe?”
“Yes.”
His eyes narrowed. “Was it a guy who made the delivery?”
Shit. Erik had been all possessive at the club, but I'd managed to convince myself that had been more about the location than it was about me. The gleam in his eyes now, however, said that it was all about me.
“Yes,” I answered honestly. “But he was gay.”
Erik gave me a skeptical look. “And you knew this by how he handed you a box?”
“More by the way he checked out my neighbor's ass on the way out.”
“I still don't like it.” Erik leaned back and crossed his arms. “I think you should make it up to me by breaking in your new toys.”
