Destroyed by a Dangerous Man

by Cleo Peitsche

  Richard tried to sidle past him, but Corbin reached out without looking and grabbed him by the scruff of his shirt.

  “And you, you little shit, have been making us run around. Funny thing, but the harder I have to work to get the truth, the more likely I am to call the cops. Now, someone had better tell her what happened to that fucking bear.”

  And now he was cursing?

  “I told her what happened to the bear,” Kelly said. “It got stolen from my house.”

  “Bullshit!” Corbin yelled. He jabbed the bat against Kelly’s stomach and pushed. “The way I see it, you’ll run out of space before I get tired of doing this. Or maybe I’ll just take your head off.”

  Kelly swallowed. “Richard did it.”

  “You fucking snitch!” Richard yelled.

  He tried to get at Kelly, but Corbin’s grip was too strong, and he ended up looking like a trout fighting a fishing line.

  “Thank you,” Corbin said. He shoved Richard and Kelly away. “Baby,” he said to me without taking his eyes off them, “you know who did it, so let’s go home and let the cops or the FBI deal with this.”

  “FBI?” Richard said. He’d gone pale.

  “The FBI tends to be interested in forgery,” Corbin said.

  Richard was shaking his head. “I didn’t do any of that. It was all him.”

  “Why’d you chop up the bear?” I asked, but no one was paying attention.

  Kelly was trying to get at Richard. I wondered if Corbin felt like he was dealing with children. I certainly did. But I wasn’t going to ask him—the chances were too great that he’d include me in that assessment.

  “You shouldn’t have stolen from me,” Kelly said. “Shit-heel. This is all your fault.”

  “I didn’t steal,” Richard snarled. “I was deducting the amount of your paychecks from your cut. You weren’t fucking working, asshole. I was doing both our jobs. If I hadn’t, you’d have lasted ten minutes. And then what? You’d have had nothing.”

  Richard’s eyes were red, and snot trickled from his nose.

  “Oh my god,” I said. “This is all over a couple hundred dollars a week?”

  “And I banged his ex,” Kelly said. “He can’t get over it. Hey, Richard, guess what? Half the state banged her.”

  Richard swung at Kelly. Thanks to Corbin, he missed.

  “All this talk,” Corbin said, a dangerous edge in his voice, “and no one has answered Audrey’s question. Richard, why did you cut up the bear?”

  Footsteps pounded through the house, and a moment later two uniformed officers exploded into the already crowded yard.

  “You’ll want to arrest them both,” Corbin said. “They’ve been printing fake documents.”

  “Who are you?” one of the officers asked.

  “We’re bounty hunters,” Corbin said.

  “But why did you destroy the bear?” I hollered.

  Richard didn’t answer. Kelly, either.

  And now that the police were there, Corbin couldn’t threaten them to make them talk.

  I filled my lungs and yelled, “Why did you mutilate Booze?”

  The officers jumped.

  I could feel a vein throbbing in my temple. My throat was raw, but I couldn’t stop screaming. “I swear to heaven, I’m going to spend the rest of my life spreading photos all over the web of you two losers tag-teaming stuffed animals.”

  “I wanted Kelly arrested,” Richard said. “He’s an asshole, and I thought a few months behind bars would help adjust his priorities.”

  “Fuck you,” Kelly said.

  “I didn’t need you anymore,” Richard said. He looked at me. “You were supposed to get proof that he’d stolen the bear. God, you’re dumb.”

  “Quoth the guy in cuffs,” I said. In my line of business, being called dumb was a slow day on the job. “Thank you for your cooperation. Enjoy prison.”

  “Enough,” one of the officers said. “We’re putting them into the squad car, and I want you two to give us time to do our jobs. Don’t interfere.”

  He and his partner led the men away.

  Corbin looked at the bat. “I can’t believe the officers didn’t want this piece of evidence,” he said, tossing it lightly from hand to hand. He held it out to me. “You want to take it to them?”

  “Run up behind armed policemen with a bat? No, thanks.”

  He grinned. “Well, damn. That self-preservation cell seems to have survived.”

  Twenty minutes later, Corbin, Rob, Jennifer, and I were standing in the street. The police had left five minutes ago.

  The first fluffy snowflakes were falling.

  “Ready to leave?” Corbin asked, draping an arm around my shoulders. He pulled me close, into his warmth, and my shivers subsided. I needed to stop leaving my jacket in Corbin’s truck.

  I nodded. “See you tomorrow, Rob.”

  “Two days. Office is closed because of the storm.”

  “Right. Jennifer, thanks for coming out.”

  “I should be thanking you. This is going to make me look good,” she said, holding up a plastic bag containing a laptop she had discovered in the back of one of the closets. She’d explained to Kelly’s girlfriend that if the police found the laptop during an investigation, the person whose name was on the lease might be held responsible for anything illegal on the hard drive. The girlfriend had been eager to let Jennifer take it.

  I couldn’t imagine how many laws Jennifer was breaking, but her organization operated under its own set of rules.

  A snowflake landed on my eyelashes. I blinked it away. “You could thank us with a check,” I said.

  Rob scowled, but Jennifer nodded. “I’m sure we’ll be able to compensate you for your time.”

  “Excellent,” I said, and stuck my tongue out at my brother, but he and Jennifer were already walking away.

  Corbin moved in front of me, completely filling my field of vision. Gone were the houses with their tidy yards, and the modest older cars. “Maybe we should return to Critter Chomp and use their bathroom again,” he said.

  My cheeks went a little warm. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  He captured my face in his hands. He was so large, so strong, that I couldn’t help feeling delicate.

  “You’re fucking hot when you’re yelling at men who aren’t me,” he said. And with a straight face, too.

  Before I could defend myself, he kissed me deeply and thoroughly, his tongue stroking over mine, tasting my mouth.

  I bunched his shirt in my fists, then slid my hands against the rigid planes of his abs and chest.

  He rocked his hips against me, and my nails dug into his skin. He was so warm.

  He broke the kiss to stare into my eyes. “You know what we haven’t done in a long time?”

  “What?”

  “Spent the night in our own bed.”

  “And tomorrow we can sleep in. We’ll build a fire and everything. If you want, we can drive to the mountain house—”

  “No. I can’t wait that long. Get in the truck—I’m taking you home to fuck you.”

  19

  “Home sweet home.” I kicked off my shoes just inside the door. “Did you ever notice how home has a smell?”

  “All homes, or just this place?” Corbin frowned.

  Déjà vu. I must have made the observation before, and Corbin must have had the same reaction. Or maybe I’d been missing home so much, I’d imagined it.

  “It’s comforting. It’s…” I inhaled. “The stuff your cleaning ladies use, a faint hint of laundry detergent—I think that’s the sheets.”

  Corbin sniffed, then shrugged. “If you say so.”

  “Sometimes it smells a little like food.”

  The frown returned. “Then the kitchen’s ventilation system isn’t working properly.”

  “I’m not complaining.”

  “I know you’re not. What kind of fucking would you like tonight?”

  Was he serious? “Where did that come from? You
never ask my opinion.”

  “Figured I’d try something new.”

  “New?”

  He nodded, his gaze boring into mine. “See, we’re going to fuck. I’m going to be inside you. I was thinking about it the entire drive home. But I figured since your attempt at being dominant didn’t go so well, maybe I could give you another shot.”

  I grabbed his shirt and tried to pull him to me. I might as well have tried to move one of the walls.

  I slid closer to him, as if that had been my intention all along. “You’ll give it another shot? How very sporting of you.”

  He looked down at me without a trace of a smile. “I thought so.”

  “Maybe some other time,” I said.

  Now he grinned. It was chilling, but seductive. “I was hoping you’d say that. I want you naked.”

  “But we just got here—”

  He whipped me around. Before I even realized what was happening, he had my pants down around my knees.

  With a fluid motion, he bent me over and laid a series of loud, punishing smacks on my bare buttocks. I squirmed around but couldn’t avoid his discipline.

  His fingers squeezed the back of my neck. “Do you have anything else you’d like to say?”

  I shook my head, and he released me, then took a step back.

  “Naked,” he said. “You have to the count of five.”

  “But—”

  “I already got you started,” he said, glancing at my bare pussy. “One. Two.”

  I yanked the pants the rest of the way off so quickly that I broke a fingernail. It didn’t hurt, but the jagged edge scraped my skin as I unhooked my bra. The bra and shirt both got pulled over my head.

  “…Five. Very good.”

  “Time out. My nail broke.” I showed him my index finger.

  “Baby. It’s like you took a bullet for me.” A wicked gleam lit his eyes, then he grabbed me and tossed me over his shoulder.

  At least the condo was flat. Nothing scared me more than when Corbin hauled me up or down steps.

  With ground-covering strides, he carried me through the bedroom and into the master bathroom, where he gently sat me down on the side of the tub.

  “Don’t move,” he said.

  I watched as he opened the medicine cabinet. The broadness of his shoulders and back never failed to make my breath hitch in my throat. Corbin’s body was perfect. Everything about him was. Masculine. Strong. Protective.

  How the hell had I gotten so fucking lucky? He knew I was completely crazy obsessed with him, but it was so much more than that.

  I needed him. My soul needed him.

  He closed the cabinet, and for a moment our eyes connected in the mirror. There was another flash of déjà vu. Then I remembered… the mirror in the gym of our hotel. Right after he’d caught me trying to call home.

  “Thank you for Austria,” I said. “And for everything you’ve done for me. I’m trying to be less of a pain.”

  “Don’t try too hard. You’re complicated. I like that,” he said with a smile as he turned. He was holding fingernail clippers.

  “No.” I shook my head. “No, that’s not a good idea.”

  He looked at the clippers. “What do you think’s going to happen?”

  “You might cut the edge of my skin.”

  Corbin rarely rolled his eyes, but he might as well have. “I once did an assignment that meant living in the jungle for three months. It was me and these two other guys.”

  Wow. He was giving me a story about his assassin days? That almost never happened.

  “Long story short, one of the guys needed me to close up a six-inch gash. The year after, on another project, he showed me the scar. It was neatly healed. He passed along compliments from his doctor.”

  “Long story short,” I murmured. “I’m starting to hate those words.”

  “It’s for your own safety. But, yeah, I think I can handle a broken fingernail.” He knelt in front of me. “Give me your hand.”

  I did.

  “You know what’s really wrong?” he asked as he clipped away the broken part of the nail.

  “What?”

  “You need more jewelry. You don’t wear your ring, or any of the rings I bought you.”

  I felt myself blushing. “You know I’m not fancy.”

  “Untrue. It’s a different kind of fancy. I want to give you something expensive that you’ll use. You’re hard to spoil. Just once, I wish you’d ask for something extravagant. An island. A private jet. A pet tiger. Anything.”

  “Really? You’ve done so much for me.” I swallowed. “For my family.”

  “Helping out where I can isn’t the same as spoiling you for the sake of spoiling you.” He set down the clippers. “It’s something to talk about later. Go get into bed. On your back, legs open.”

  I didn’t even think about protesting. “Thank you,” I said, and I allowed myself the luxury of touching his thick, dark hair.

  Then, before he could decide I wasn’t obeying fast enough, I hurried into the bedroom.

  20

  Oh, being back in our own bed was heaven. I sank into the sheets. The pillow smelled faintly of Corbin, and I remembered he’d mentioned taking a nap yesterday.

  Corbin was currently elsewhere in the condo.

  I didn’t know what he was doing, but I expected he’d come back with handcuffs or something.

  To my surprise, he returned with a glass of water and a chair.

  An uncertain smile twitched across my face.

  What the hell was he going to do with those? Corbin was always inventing creative, kinky ways to torture me.

  He carried them both to the other side of the bed, then put down the chair. “Turn,” he said. “I want you lying diagonally across the bed.”

  I scooted around to do what he’d asked.

  He nodded and handed me the water. “Drink,” he said.

  As I drank, he undid his pants and pulled himself out. His cock was almost completely erect, and within seconds it was at its full grandeur, swollen and hard.

  He took the glass away from me, then sat on the chair. I reclined to my elbows and looked at him questioningly.

  “Play with yourself,” he said. “But I don’t want you getting off. Not yet.”

  I groaned, and Corbin gave me a chilling look, so I saluted him, then fell onto my back. That was as insolent as I dared to be under the circumstances.

  Apparently, his preferred torture today was to make me play with myself while he watched. And since I wasn’t allowed to come, that meant he had something diabolical planned for later.

  He stood, grabbed one of the pillows, and held it out. “Put this under your head. I want to be able to see your face.”

  Ugh. Great—I’d get to watch him watching me. Nothing awkward about that.

  I slipped my hand between my legs. I was wet—of course I was. Corbin’s spanking had ensured that.

  “Nice and slow,” he said, his eyes trained on my pussy. He set the water aside and took himself in hand.

  That caught my attention, all right. I rarely got to see Corbin masturbate. It turned me on. Especially if he was going to do it like this, while watching me.

  It made me feel sexy.

  I rubbed my fingertip along my slit, then back up toward my nub.

  “Open your legs more,” Corbin ordered hoarsely. He was squeezing his cock. His fist moved so quickly it was almost a blur.

  I slid my legs wider, my skin making a seductive whispery sound against the sheets.

  Corbin stood. His fist moved faster and faster, and then he was leaning against the bed.

  His free hand pressed against my upper thigh. “Wider,” he said. “I want to really see your pussy.”

  I opened my legs as much as I could.

  “Stop,” he said. “Move your hand.”

  I let it rest on my stomach, my fingers curled so that the wetness didn’t get all over me.

  Corbin opened a drawer in the bedside table and pulled
out a length of rope.

  He grabbed my ankle, wrapped the end of the rope around it, and then pulled the rope taut as he fastened it to the bottom of the headboard, by the floor.

  The process was repeated with my other leg, tying that one to the bottom of the footboard.

  The entire time he worked, I was absorbed in staring at his cock. Given how swollen and upright it was, how purplish and shiny-tight the skin was, he had to be close to orgasm.

  As he moved, it bobbed, only slightly, but it was more than enough to make me crazy with desire.

  Perfect body, strong muscles, superb cock. And he wasn’t afraid to make me wait, to make me beg, or even to deny me.

  “There,” he said. “Now your legs are spread.”

  And indeed they were.

  But apparently he wasn’t satisfied, because he went back into the drawer and brought out a third bit of rope, which he used to tie my wrists together.

  “Touch yourself. Get close to orgasm.”

  I looked down at my bound hands. “With my pinkies?”

  “However you need to do it,” he said.

  “But I don’t think I can—”

  Corbin clamped a hand over my mouth. “Do it,” he said.

  I began rubbing myself. It was clumsy and would have been useless if I weren’t already so turned on.

  My muscles tightened, but he’d tied me masterfully, and my legs were completely restrained.

  Corbin resumed jerking himself. His hand was over my mouth, his electric blue-green eyes staring into mine with such intensity that I would have looked away, except I knew he didn’t like that.

  He wanted me to watch him watching. It was part of the thrill. He liked pushing my limits.

  And he liked for me to know that he could see how much pleasure his dominance brought me.

  As wet as I was, the sound of his hammering fist was louder. There was color in his face. Knowing how close he was brought me closer. I was seconds away from orgasm.

  “Move your hands away,” he ordered.

  Even though I didn’t want to, I obeyed. If I’d been able to speak, I would have told him that I wasn’t going to defy his orders, wasn’t going to orgasm without permission.

  Maybe it was better that my mouth was covered; talking back tended not to go over very well.