by Davis, Jo
The easiest order he’d ever received, since he could do nothing except feel. When she began to move to the music, he couldn’t have said a word anyway. All speech deserted him as she raised her arms over her head, swaying. Her hips undulated in time to the lazy beat. She watched him, her movements a perfect mime of making love.
She was performing one of her exotic dances for him, he realized suddenly. In a way he fervently prayed she’d done for nobody else. In the next instant he no longer cared. She wasn’t a dancer; she was his princess. He existed solely to satisfy her however she desired.
Mesmerized, he stared as she removed one of the scarves from around her neck. Twirled and swished it in the air, creating fascinating patterns. Ramping up the anticipation.
Next, she danced to him, taking her sweet time. At his side, she draped the scarf around his neck, trailed it down his chest. Goose bumps broke out on his skin at the decadent sensation of the material sliding down to his belly. His aching groin. She bent low, her breasts near his face, close enough to taste if he turned his head to the side. But this was her show, and he was dying to learn what she planned.
“Put your arms behind you and cross your wrists,” she said softly in his ear.
He complied, his heart thumping a mad tattoo behind his sternum. Surely she didn’t intend—
By God, she did! A protest almost escaped, but he squelched it, unwilling to end their play. He sat in disbelief as she bound his wrists with the scarf, tied them to the back of the chair.
Making a satisfied sound in her throat, she came to stand in front of him again. With a catlike smile, she removed the remaining two scarves and trailed them down his body in the same manner as before, leaving him quivering.
This time, she knelt at his feet. His eyes followed her, and he blinked at the pearly drop of pre-cum beading on the tip of his penis. Christ, he hoped he was able to hold off the explosive orgasm building in his balls. He’d finally experienced the joys of lovemaking, but he’d never been seduced. Taken.
“Spread your legs even with the legs of the chair.”
The position made him completely vulnerable . . . especially when she tied each of his ankles to the chair’s legs. He was spread naked before his lover, hers to do with as she wished. A dark thrill coursed through his veins, drugging him.
He wanted this—to be claimed by her—more than he’d ever wanted anything in his life.
Standing, she surveyed her handiwork, began to sway again to the music. “Gorgeous,” she murmured. “A feast to be savored.”
Teasing him, she presented him with her back and began to remove the filmy material from her arms and legs. The covering detached easily, leaving her clad in only the bra and the thong. He couldn’t peel his eyes from the sparkly string parting the creamy globes of her ass.
Reaching behind her, she undid the clasp of her top, let the straps fall free. Then she untied the strings around her neck, tossed the bra aside. Turned to face him.
Zack sucked in a breath. Silky hair framed her bare, ripe breasts and rosy nipples. This goddess was his. He still had difficulty believing his good fortune.
She approached, knelt between his splayed knees. Leaned forward, licked the bead of cum from the tip of his cock. “Mmm. So good. You like being at my mercy, I see.”
She suckled the crown, snatching the air from his lungs. Coherent thought fled and he was truly a slave to her ministrations, his body hers to lick and sample. Her pink little tongue swept along his feverish length, laving every contour. Slim fingers manipulated his balls, drawn and taut with arousal. Then she took him in her mouth, sucking him deep, tormenting the turgid flesh. The sight of her lips stroking his cock almost finished him, and his hips bucked off the seat. A low moan escaped him, a plea without words.
Releasing him, she stood. Swung her legs wide and straddled the chair, her thighs on the outsides of his. The position thrust her breasts to his nose and placed her womanhood dangerously close to his cock.
“And now, for your private lap dance, honey. Relax and enjoy.”
Lowering her mound, she squatted over him, allowing his penis to brush along her sex as she writhed in hypnotic rhythm. Just the light contact of heat against slick femininity. Nothing more.
Hands on his shoulders, she threw back her head, causing a shower of honey brown silk to cascade around them both. Held his gaze through half-open lids, an alluring sexual creature who loved the power she held over him.
So did he. His breath sawed in his lungs and he knew he couldn’t hold out much longer. He was desperate to be inside her when he came, where he belonged.
She ghosted a kiss over his lips, trailed her fingers down one cheek. “Tell me what you want, slave.”
“God, please . . .”
“Say it.”
He was lost.
“Fuck me, please!”
Bracing one hand on his shoulder, she guided the tip of his cock to her entrance with the other. She paused with him inside her an inch or so and he thought his heart would burst.
“Watch me fuck you,” she said.
“Yes, I . . . ahh, goddamn!”
A trickle of sweat rolled down his temple. His eyes fastened on her sheath swallowing his pulsing length. Bit by bit, torching him from the inside out. Down, down, until she sat in his lap with him buried inside her.
She began to ride him, up and down, and his mind checked out. He was hers, her toy, her instrument of pleasure. Never anything like this, so dark and sensual. Totally owned by another, never wanting the torture to end.
“Yesss, baby! Fuck me, use me . . . please, don’t stop!”
With a throaty moan, she increased the tempo, impaling herself on his rod. Faster, harder, her feminine walls squeezing and stroking him into a frenzy. He thrust to meet her, unable to help himself. Out of control, their bodies slamming together.
She rode him with abandon, rushing them headlong toward the edge. The now-familiar gathering of the impending explosion tingled at the base of his spine, and then . . .
“Oh! Oh, God, baby! Yes!”
He shot deep inside her womb with a hoarse shout, blessed, exquisite release. On and on, his cock milked of every last drop. Arms linked around his neck, she ground against him, shuddering with her own orgasm, incoherent little cries spilling from her lips.
She fell against him and they remained locked together, struggling for air. For how long, he didn’t know.
“Jesus Christ,” he whispered. “That was . . . incredible.”
She gave him a naughty grin. “You liked?”
“Seriously, what do you think?”
“That Junior will never be the same.” She wiggled on his lap for emphasis.
“Baby, you blew the top of my head off. Can you see my brains?”
“Nope, just one unbelievably sexy man.”
Well, he was far from sexy. He wasn’t, however, about to argue. “Promise me something,” he said suddenly.
“Anything,” she replied without hesitation.
“Swear to me you’ll never perform a lap dance for another man again.” Even though she’d never allowed a client to touch her, the idea tore him to shreds.
“I’ll go one better, fireboy.” She leaned in, nibbled along his jaw. “What would you say if I told you I’d retired from exotic dancing . . . except for when I dance for you?”
Had he been standing, his knees would’ve buckled from sheer relief.
“I’d say that’s the best news I’ve ever heard, beautiful.”
“I’ll find a way to finish paying for my education, Zack. One that doesn’t involve dancing or touching Alex’s dirty money.” She smiled, her love reaching out to wind tendrils around his soul. “I’d never do anything to hurt you. I love you.”
“I love you, too, sweetheart.”
“I’ll finance.”
“We’ll finance, like the rest of the population does.” He kissed her nose, the only part of her he could reach while bound hand and foot. “Baby?”
&nb
sp; “Hmm?”
“Can I be your love slave more often?”
“Anytime.”
He sighed, happiness no longer an intangible ideal forever out of reach.
“That’s the second-best news I’ve ever heard.”
17
Cori clung to Zack’s hand as he pulled her through the Saturday night crowd at the Waterin’ Hole. The establishment was ancient and worn, its walls plastered with yellowed framed photographs and local memorabilia such as high school banners and trophies. Probably because the owner had graduated here in Cheatham County, or so Zack claimed. The patrons were working-class, raucous, and here for a good time, the atmosphere friendly.
Still, Cori was nervous about meeting Zack’s friends in a social setting, Eve Marshall in particular. Oh, Cori could take her in a fair catfight if that was all it came down to, but a rumble would settle nothing. Not when the woman had the respect of and influence over the guys at Station Five.
Hopefully it wouldn’t come to that. She’d like to think the fragile connection they’d begun to develop the day of the attempt on Zack had survived.
“We’re about to find out,” she muttered. Thank God she’d talked Shea into meeting them here. Zack had a ton of friends. It wasn’t as if anyone would notice another body jammed in this place, and having her own girlfriend along would be fun.
Cori spotted Eve as they approached a group of tables along the left wall, up front near the bar. The gang had commandeered three tables, and Cori recognized the rest of Zack’s buddies one by one. Seeing them in street clothes and letting their hair down gave her a moment of weirdness, which she quickly dismissed.
Firefighters at play. Yum.
She might be taken, but she wasn’t dead.
The young, drop-dead gorgeous blond, Tommy Skyler, was flirting with the cute barmaid taking their drink order. Howard and Kat Paxton were sitting next to him, chatting with Sean Tanner, Eve Marshall, and a black man Cori hadn’t met. Cori didn’t miss the way Sean’s green eyes narrowed at Eve’s companion—who was really quite striking, with a lean frame and an angular face. Interesting. She wondered whether anyone else felt the captain’s vibe, especially Eve.
The only two not engaged in conversation with the others were the sexy Julian Salvatore and his knockout date, a Hispanic woman with long hair the color of dark cinnamon. The pair seemed sort of apart from the rest, somehow. Julian had an arm slung across the back of the woman’s chair in a familiar manner. While they seemed comfortable with each other, the same ease didn’t appear to apply to the rest of the group. Julian sat with one ankle propped casually on his knee, but his body language radiated tension. Unlike his date, he wasn’t smiling as he picked a napkin with his free hand.
“Hey, Zack!”
Howard’s booming greeting was met with whoops and table thumping, followed by claps on their friend’s back and punches in the arm as he and Cori joined them.
The three women, including Eve, smiled and gave Cori a warm hello, unloading the stress headache waiting to squeeze her temples. Okay, so it wasn’t hugs and air kisses, but it was a start. At least she wouldn’t have to worry about deflecting poison darts all evening.
After the exuberant male thumping ritual died down, she and Zack took seats on the other side of Julian and his lady, across from Tommy. The imp with the pale blue eyes shot Cori a dimpled grin, giving her a thorough once-over, even as he spoke to Zack.
“Dayam, Einstein, where’d you find Ms. Booty licious?”
Cori snorted a short laugh, unsure whether to be offended. Something told her the kid was harmless, just afflicted with a case of diarrhea mouth and raging hormones, like most guys his age. Since Zack took Tommy’s comment in stride, she figured she’d guessed right.
“Her name is Cori, and she’s the girl we rescued from the bridge accident last month, dipstick.”
Tommy’s guileless pale eyes widened, and he studied Cori more closely. “Oh, dude! Jeez, I’m sorry. I didn’t recognize you. I mean, that day you were all wet and stuff—”
“No problem,” Cori interjected. She did not need to be reminded of how awful she looked in the emergency room while Zack fought for his life.
“Anyways, it’s nice to meetcha. Officially, I mean.”
Cori grinned back at Tommy. She couldn’t help it. The kid was an open book, and beautiful as a fallen angel. Someone like him should’ve taken up acting or modeling, and she wondered why he hadn’t.
“You remind me of someone,” she said to him. Which, of course, caused him to puff out his chest and grace her with a lazy, heavy-lidded look fringed with thick, dusky lashes that might’ve scorched her underwear had she been ten years younger.
“Most people say I resemble Brad Pitt—you know, before he got old.”
Old? She barely managed to stifle a laugh. “No, that’s not who I was thinking.”
His face fell. “Really?”
“Yeah, let’s see. . . . I’ve got it! You remind me of Robert Redford when he was young.”
“Who?” He appeared genuinely baffled.
“Oh, God,” Zack groaned. “You are such a loser.”
Tommy shot him the bird. “Wasn’t talking to you, geek.”
“Get your own date, pretty boy,” Zack returned, putting his arm around her.
“Maybe I will.”
Their banter held an affectionate tone Cori suspected was the usual routine with the men. She relaxed even more, beginning to enjoy herself very much.
The barmaid took the rest of their drink orders. Everyone ordered longnecks, except for Julian, who asked for Patrón Silver, and Howard and Cori, who ordered Cokes. No one commented on the lieutenant’s abstinence, so Cori guessed he wasn’t a drinker.
“Cori, this is my good friend Carmelita Gutierrez,” Julian said from beside her. “Dulce, this is Zack’s beauty, Corrine Shannon.”
“Hello,” Cori said. Carmelita returned her greeting. She was poised and confident, but not stuffy. Were she and Julian lovers? Hard to tell. Before Cori could speculate further, Eve walked over to introduce her companion to Cori and Zack. From this, and the way the man’s dark eyes darted over the group, Cori surmised he hadn’t hung with them before.
“Hey, guys, this is Drake Bowers,” Eve said, hooking her arm through his. “He teaches choir at Sugarland High School.” Her date smiled, nodding to them.
Drake struck Cori as a polite, shy man. He was also quite good-looking, in spite of the dreads Cori didn’t care for on any man. Still, he couldn’t hold a candle to the hard, uncompromising Sean Tanner, with his harsh features and sad eyes.
Who took a long draw of his beer, skewering the unsuspecting teacher with a gaze sharp enough to cut glass.
Whoa. She hoped never to get on the captain’s shit list. Did Eve know Sean was simmering on a low boil?
“Who’s up for pool?” Tommy bounded from his seat, pointing to an open table.
Howard rose, towering over everyone else. “I am. Girls against guys?”
“Woo-hoo! Count me in,” Kat yelled. “Come on, ladies, who’s with me?”
“I’m in,” Eve said.
Eve and Kat had a head start on the female bonding, Cori noted. They shared an easy camaraderie, and Kat fit in well with the group. Thinking of her own brothers and their tense, complicated relationship, Cori was blindsided with an attack of wistfulness, but shrugged it off. She had Zack, and Shea, who’d become the sister she’d always wanted.
As if she’d conjured her friend, Shea materialized at her side and hugged her tight. Her curly brown hair fell in unruly waves to her shoulders and tickled Cori’s nose.
“Sorry I’m late! I had a terrible time getting away from the ER this evening.”
“You’re not. We’re just getting started.”
Her friend took Tommy’s vacated seat as another round of introductions ensued. At the other end of the table, Julian started a conversation with Drake, asking him about his high school students, while Sean listened and sipped his beer.<
br />
Shea stuck out a hand to Zack. “Hi, I’m Shea Ford. I don’t think we’ve actually met.”
Zack glanced at her hand in surprise, then shook it briefly, obviously charmed by her straightforward attitude. “I’m Zack, but I guess Cori’s told you about me.”
“Every second she’s awake.” She rolled her eyes and wrinkled her pert, freckled nose. “She’s got all sorts of cute pet names for you, like Super—”
Cori swatted at her across the table, gasping. “Ooh, some friend you are, breaking the sacred Girl Code!”
“I don’t want to know,” Zack said, cheeks reddening.
“I was only going to say Superbrain.”
Zack wasn’t biting. “Jesus.” He waved a hand, eager to change the subject. “Thanks for letting Cori crash at your apartment while I’m on shift. We owe you.”
“No sweat. We’ve had fun hanging out, but I hope they catch whoever’s behind the attacks on you, fast. Shane tells me this Banning creep is a frickin’ ghost,” she said in disgust.
Zack nodded. “Yeah. It’s like the guy doesn’t exist. They don’t have prints on him and he’s probably altered his appearance more than once. They can’t even get a physical resemblance from the most-wanted lists.”
Cori made a face. “Ugh. Do we have to talk about this tonight?”
Zack took her hand, brought it to his lips. “You’re right. I’m sorry, baby. Let’s just have fun.”
“I’m going to barf,” Shea said.
They laughed, and Zack steered the topic toward how Shea met Cori. Shea entertained him with the story of how she had a flat tire on I-49, nobody around for miles and her brother not answering his cell phone. Dubious help came in the form of Cori, having just arrived in Sugarland, SUV loaded with her stuff. Like Shea, she had no clue how to change a tire. But how hard could it be?
One hour later, giggling and covered in grease, they were well on their way to becoming fast friends. They got the flat tire off, but never managed to get the spare on—Shane finally arrived to save the day. By the time he was finished, she’d warmed to Cori as she did to very few people so quickly, and Cori had a place to stay while she went apartment hunting.
