Seduced By My Doms BN

by Jenna Jacob

  “James,” I whispered on a desperate sigh.

  “That excites you, doesn’t it?” he taunted, skimming his finger down my neck and over the peak of one throbbing nipple. “Your pretty, blue eyes are all smoky with need, and I can smell the scent of your pussy, so sweet and inviting. It’s making my cock scream. It’s all I can do to keep from laying you over the trunk of your car, drag my tongue up your luscious thighs, and suckle on your clit, until you can’t come anymore.”

  My knees began to buckle. I reached out to grab hold of his arm as he snaked a hand around my waist. I wasn’t an exhibitionist, but his lurid words enticed me to be…now.

  “You’re killing me,” I purred as I closed my eyes and stroked his strong biceps. “But not over the car. I have a nice soft bed at my place.”

  “Soon,” James promised with a mischievous smile. Bending, he pressed his forehead against mine and gazed into my eyes. “I’m going to discover who you are on the inside before I thoroughly explore you outside.”

  My body swayed. He had no trouble unraveling me…just not yet. My hopes of a long, sweaty, session of sex had been thwarted. Frustration peaked and melded with gnawing need. Logically, I knew it was for the best. But my throbbing and totally saturated pussy strongly disagreed.

  I tried to remind myself that James liked kink with his sex—how much kink remained a mystery. Until I knew how big a role BDSM played in his bedroom desires, I needed to calm down, slow down, and take a big step back.

  “Then I should probably to go home and take a cold shower,” I confessed on a heavy sigh.

  He chuckled. “Yes. I need one of those myself. You’ll call me when you get home.”

  It wasn’t a request. It was an order. I rolled my eyes and nodded.

  Peeling myself from his arms was torture, and as I drove away, I glanced in my rearview mirror. James had shoved his hands in his pockets and watched me until I was out of sight.

  My body hummed the whole way home. If I didn’t burn up my vibrator tonight it would be a miracle. Once inside the house, I kicked off my shoes and poured a glass of chardonnay before wandering back to my bedroom and stripping out of my work clothes.

  Standing in a hot shower, I let the water beat down on me as I tried to pinpoint why James turned me inside out. The man had the skill to entice me to do just about anything. That fact should have scared the living crap out of me, but it didn’t. Because my mind wouldn’t stop spooling with the memory of his powerful body, and the way he took command of my mouth with his mind-bending kisses.

  Groaning in disappointment, I stepped out of the shower, dried off, and downed my wine before I snuggled into bed. Glancing at the clock, I sighed. It was already after three a.m. Just as I closed my eyes, I bolted upright in bed. My heart thundered in my chest.

  “I forgot to call James. Shit,” I hissed.

  Flipping on the bedside lamp, I tossed off the covers and jumped out of bed. Snagging my scrub shirt, I rummaged through the pockets and pinched his card between my fingers.

  Relax. He has no idea where you live, or how long it would have taken you go get home.

  Anxiety bled from my veins as I dialed his phone number.

  James answered on the first ring. “Another three minutes, and I was going to drive to your house and start pounding on your door.” His feral tone made my nipples hard.

  “You don’t even know where I live.”

  “Sixty-Eight Forty-Nine North Oleander Avenue.” He rattled off my address, and I choked on a noise of disbelief. “You’re six minutes from the hospital. Yet it took you over forty minutes to call me. I want to know why?”

  His harsh scolding tone pissed me off. “How the hell do you know where I live? And why are you all worked up? I called you, didn’t I?”

  “I found out where you lived from some friends. Now answer my question,” he bit out impatiently. “Either you forgot my instructions, which I doubt because you’re a smart girl. Or you were playing games with me in the parking garage. Which is it?”

  His accusation stung. The anger bubbling inside me threated to boil over. How could he think I was pulling his chain? Was he deaf, dumb, and blind? Didn’t he feel the way I kissed him back? For the love of god, I was all but dry humping his dick in the parking garage.

  “I wasn’t playing games with you,” I railed. “If you recall, you’re the one who kissed me first. And who do you think you are, berating me like I’m an irresponsible teenager that missed curfew?”

  Cringing at the sound of my combative tone, I waited for him to either hang up or rip into me even harder. When he didn’t do either, I closed my eyes and exhaled a deep breath.

  Obviously he’s worried you’re nothing but a cock-tease. You know very little about the man. Maybe some skanky bitch worked him over and broke his heart.

  Just the thought of James being devastated by some cold, conniving woman took the wind out of my sails.

  “To tell you the truth, I forgot.”

  “Forgot?” he murmured dejectedly.

  “It’s not that you didn’t leave a lasting impression, because trust me, you did. It’s just…I haven’t had to answer to anyone since I was eighteen.”

  “Oh, give me a break,” James scoffed. “You’ve never had a boyfriend, an ex-husband who expected you to check in with them?”

  “No to the ex-husband, and no to the boyfriend. It wasn’t expected, or didn’t matter, I guess.”

  James snorted contemptuously, and I knew he thought I had fed him a line of bullshit.

  But it wasn’t a lie. Ryan never bothered asking where I went or when I’d be back. Even when he took off for days, or weeks, he never called to see how I was doing. Either he believed nothing bad would happen, or he didn’t give a damn. Either way, it didn’t matter anymore.

  On one hand, I felt flattered that James wanted to know I was safe, but on the other, his draconian attitude sent a flurry of red flags waving in my brain. Was his overbearing mien simply a byproduct of his Dominance? Or was the man dangerously possessive in a ‘Sleeping With The Enemy’ kind of way?

  If James thought I’d give him a thorough list of what I did every second of my days and nights, he was bat-shit crazy. I would never give up my independence to such a degree. Of course, the ex-cop in him might simply be concerned. I had no doubts he’d witnessed far more horrors, that those that passed through the doors of the ER.

  “I find it hard to believe that you’ve never had a boyfriend who kept tabs on you.”

  “Whether you believe me or not is your choice, but it’s the truth,” I snapped, feeling my anger rise once more. “He didn’t. He trusted my judgment and knew I wouldn’t put myself in harm’s way.”

  He wasn’t overbearing and controlling like you.

  “Then I’d say you’ve been dating the wrong kind of men,” James replied. I could almost hear the laughter in his voice. He probably thought I was a naïve idiot. “It’s not a question of your judgment, Liz. Predators are dangerous people.”

  “I don’t have stalkers, muggers, or rapists lining up waiting for me to let my guard down.”

  “No. I’m sure you don’t,” he laughed.

  The sound made me smile. It was as if he’d waved a magic wand and my self-righteous fury vanished. Dammit! Why couldn’t I stay mad at the man? I wanted to, but simply couldn’t. What the hell was up with that? I could drag out my rage with Ryan for days, sometimes even longer. But trying to stay irritated at James left a strange ache in my heart.

  You have seriously lost your mind.

  “We’ll talk about your safety later,” he promised. “While I am disappointed you forgot to call, I hope it was because you’d rushed home to play with your toys and had fallen asleep, sated and thinking about me.”

  “No. At least not yet,” I confessed, feeling the heat rise on my cheeks.

  “Not yet, huh?” he purred. “Would you like me to tuck you in properly? Maybe finish what we started in the parking garage?”

  His deep voice d
ropped an octave. A tremor sputtered in my core.

  “I’d be more than happy to help you with that.”

  Over the phone? Lord, no.

  “You had your chance, mister. You blew it.”

  “Ah, but I’ll have a whole lot more in the very near future. You and I both know it.”

  The man oozed self-confidence. I was certain that women fell at his feet, all too eager to grant him exactly what he wanted. Had he ever been denied?

  “What if I said that ship already sailed and you missed the boat?” I challenged with a smug grin.

  James didn’t say a word for several long seconds. “Then I guess I’ll spend the rest of my days kicking myself in the ass for missing out on the chance of a lifetime…to spend a night with you.”

  Just when I’d pegged him cocky and sure, he had to go say something so sentimental and sweet that my heart puddled.

  “Damn…you’re good.”

  “You have no idea how good I can be.”

  His silky promise swept over my flesh like heated fingers. Flopping back on my bed, I wished he were naked and on top of me, proving his claim.

  “What are you wearing right now, my blue-eyed temptress?”

  I bit back a groan of frustration, knowing where James intended to lead the conversation. But sharing an empty orgasm over the phone held as much appeal as masturbating alone. I needed flesh-on-flesh contact…needed to be cuddled, then wake in a pair of warm, strong arms. That basic level of nurturing had been void in my life for far too long. If James wanted to hear me scream his name, then he’d have to be there and wholly involved in a physical way.

  “What time is dinner tomorrow night?” Skirting the current topic, I took control of the conversation, thus circumventing an awkward debate about phone sex.

  “When do you get off work?”

  “I don’t. I’m off until noon Sunday.”

  “Then I’ll pick you up at seven.” His voice dipped, “Wear something special for me.”

  Like clockwork, Mr. Cocky-And-Sure resurfaced.

  “I’ll think about it,” I taunted, unable to resist poking him just a little.

  “You’ll do a whole lot more than that,” he promised overconfidently. Then his voice softened to a whisper. “I wish I were there to watch you play with yourself…help get you off, and hear your cries of ecstasy.”

  My breath caught in the back of my throat as my nipples drew up impossibly tighter. He paused for a minute, listening to my shallow breathing.

  “Good night, Liz.”

  Once again, he hung up before I could reply. He had serious issues when it came to phone etiquette. Either that, or he enjoyed flexing his Dom muscles, striving to take charge every way he could. Unfortunately, I didn’t know enough about BDSM to hazard a guess.

  Climbing under the covers, I turned off the light and snuggled into my cold, empty bed. Curious about Dominance and submission, I wondered how I would fit into James’ kinky world. Tossing and turning for another hour, it wasn’t until I decided to spend tomorrow researching and educating myself about BDSM that I finally fell asleep. My dreams were filled with James’ decadent voice, billowing silk scarfs binding my wrists, and his hard cock driving into me.

  I woke the next morning as exhausted as when I’d climbed into bed. Glancing at the clock, I saw it was half past eleven. Stretching and yawning, I climbed out of bed and completed my morning routine before padding to my office and booting up my computer. I wanted to learn all I could about the lifestyle in hopes that if we survived our first date I might get lucky and he’d ask me out again. Then maybe I could learn more about his particular cravings.

  By two-thirty, I’d drained a coffee pot and had gained more understanding about BDSM than the average ‘vanilla’ person. The research had occupied my mind…well, for the most part. Memories of our erotic parking garage adventure only wormed its way into my brain seven or eight hundred times, while wondering what kinky things turned James on. Hopefully they weren’t too outlandish, and I’d wake tomorrow morning lying naked in his arms after countless breath-stealing orgasms.

  Some of the information I’d gleaned centered on fetishes that dweebed me out. Things like urine and fecal play. Yuck. No thanks. I spent ten hours a day, cleaning up various body fluids, and never once did I find it the least bit arousing.

  Several other things intrigued me, though, like the image of a woman helplessly tied in a pretty harness of knotted rope. The thought of being powerless at James’ mercy sent my blood pumping. I read several articles, yet the concept of giving my power—or as I perceived it, my independence—to another person seemed weak and insanely foolish. Whatever was gained from such an arrangement remained a mystery. While I found the sites eye-opening, I couldn’t find what I wanted most: a BDSM manual that gave step-by-step instructions for beginners.

  Ignorance of the thing James enjoyed gnawed at me. If he were into rope, I’d probably try and let him tie me up. But if he liked whips, canes, and other implements of pain…it would be over long before it began. Staring at the toys designed to inflict pain, Drake’s words rolled through my mind.

  ‘Trevor likes pain…finds peace of mind and strength.’

  The meaning of his words took on a whole new context. I might not be wired for pain, but understanding the beneficial effects they provided, the gadgets didn’t seem quite so scary.

  Staring at a new image of another woman tied in red cotton rope, I studied the fat knot pressed against her clit. Her half open eyes appeared glassy and unfocused. Her upturned face with red painted lips opened on an apparent blissful sigh filled me with envy. I wanted to be that woman, bound and pulsing beneath the bundle of rope between her legs; experience the euphoria serenely stamped over her face.

  My cell phone rang. Still riveted to the arresting image on the monitor, I absently answered the call.

  “Hello.” Surprised by my low, husky tone, I swallowed tightly.

  “Did I wake you?” James asked in a deep, heart pounding voice.

  “No,” I blurted quickly. “I-I’ve been awake for hours.”

  “Am I interrupting something?” His question teemed with sexual innuendo, and filled me with a combo of guilt and embarrassment.

  “No. I’m not doing anything,” I lied. Quickly closing out the image, I tamped down my arousal. “What are you doing?”

  “I’m getting ready to head over to the hospital to check on Trevor and Drake. I thought maybe you’d like to ride along.”

  “Oh, I thought you were still there.”

  “No. Drake kicked me out about five-thirty this morning. Told me to go home and sleep after Mika and Julianna left.”

  I had no business getting emotionally invested in Trevor, but I couldn’t help it. The frantic need to know he was all right rose like a tide inside me. The need to delineate the blurred lines between mourning sister and nurse weighed heavy. I simply didn’t know how to separate the two.

  “I did talk to Drake a little bit ago,” James continued. “He said Trevor slept through the night, but woke up this morning. He’s groggy and falls asleep at the drop of a hat, but he’s sitting and talking from time to time and the doctor thinks they’ll be able to move him out of ICU tomorrow.”

  “That’s great news,” I exhaled on a sigh of relief. “I planned to drop by and see him for a few minutes, but wasn’t sure if… Well, I don’t want to intrude.”

  “Why would you think that? Of course you’re not intruding. I’ll come by and pick you up and escort you inside. I heard there’s a pervert hanging out in the parking garage, kissing women.”

  I laughed. “A kissing pervert huh? That doesn’t sound very dangerous.”

  “Oh, he can be if you ask nicely.” I could feel James smiling on the other end of the line. “I mean if it’s danger you’re looking for, I’m sure he can help you out.”

  “I bet you could.” Those damn bondage pictures on the web had curiosity and excitement crawling through me.

  “I am more than capabl
e of giving you what you need. Trust me.”

  I desperately wanted to trust him. From what I’d read, trust was the key ingredient for a healthy BDSM relationship. But trusting someone with your life took time.

  “So what do you say? I can swing by and pick you up in an hour.”

  “Sure. That would be great.”

  “I’ll see you then,” James confirmed.

  Hanging up without saying goodbye, again, I rolled my eyes and raced to the shower. After primping both makeup and hair, I stood in the closet trying to decide what to wear. Unsure if there would be time to come home and change before our date, I realized the little black dress I’d planned to wear was too chic for a hospital visit. Since I had no clue where James planned to take me, I worried blue jeans might be too casual. Finally deciding on a pair of black dress pants and a sleeveless, ruffled-bodice, cranberry chiffon blouse, I tossed the items on my bed.

  ‘Wear something special for me.’

  James’ words echoed in my head, causing a shiver to race through me. Perusing the contents of my panty drawer, I spotted a red, lacy pushup bra and matching thong that had been sitting untouched for almost a year. “Like sexy lingerie was going to fix my relationship with Ryan,” I scoffed aloud. “Well, hopefully James will enjoy the little ensemble tonight.”

  Dressed, I stepped into a pair of black heels as the doorbell rang. A giddy rush of excitement ignited within me. It had been a long, long time since I’d been on a date. Checking myself one last time in the mirror, I rushed to the front door and pulled it open.

  Sunlight played across James’ handsome features, highlighting cinnamon streaks in his dark hair, as flecks of gold refracted in his sensual eyes. He wore snug, faded blue jeans and a short-sleeved, fitted knit shirt. James looked so decadently hot I wanted to yank him inside and molest him in the middle of the foyer.

  James slid a hungry gaze down my body in a slow, sensual caress before he flashed me with a wide, dazzling smile. I had to grip the edge of the door to keep from melting into a puddle. Leaning in close, he brushed his lips against my neck.

  “You look stunning,” he whispered, biting lightly on the lobe of my ear.