by Shyla Colt
The guard glanced down at his clipboard and nodded, taking the ID Pierce held out. “Okay, you check out. You’ll want to drive in, take a left, and you’ll come up to a parking lot on your right-hand side.”
“Thank you.” Pierce took his ID, returned it to his wallet, and pulled away from the shack, following the directions.
“P-Pierce?”
“Yes?” He risked a glance in her direction and smirked. Her eyes were as round as dinner plates.
“Are we going on set?”
He pulled into the parking lot, found an open space, and turned to face her. “Yes, we are.”
She fumbled with her seat belt, all but ripping it free, and threw herself into his arms. Her soft lips peppered his face with kisses, and he laughed.
“Thank you, thank you, thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
She moved back into her seat and took a deep breath. “I am so not dressed for this. I mean, look at me.” She ran a hand through her windblown hair, and he licked his lips. The scoop-neck black T-shirt hugged her curves, and her jeans emphasized the flair of her hips and the round firm ass he couldn’t wait to smack. Her comic-print tennis shoes made her cool and casual at the same time.
“No, it’s perfect. If you were too dolled up, it’d scream rabid fangirl.”
She snickered. “Rabid?”
“I’ve seen the way this guy gets mobbed. Come on, they’re going to squeeze us in between scenes.”
She fidgeted as they walked into the building, like a child on her way to meeting a costumed character from her favorite cartoon.
“You going to make it?” He pulled her into his body.
“I’m not sure yet.” Her voice wavered.
He laughed. “You’ll be fine. “ They entered the darkened building, and a woman carrying a clipboard with a lanyard around her neck greeted them.
“Pierce?”
“Yes, and this is my guest, Demi.”
“I’m Sarah. It’s great to have you guys on set.” She smiled. “You’ll have about ten or fifteen minutes with Brandon, and then I’ll walk you around the set. “
“That’ll be wonderful,” he said, shocked at the quietness of Demi. He’d never seen the spitfire so subdued.
“I’m taking it you’re the big fan?” Sarah asked.
“Yes, pretty obvious, huh?” Demi shook her head, and Sarah laughed.
“Maybe a little.”
“Don’t be nervous. Brandon is a sweetheart,” Sarah said with a smile. She guided them through the converted warehouse, pausing outside of what looked like a break room with tables and chairs and a comfy couch against the far wall. Brandon stood across the room, sipping a cup of coffee as he talked to the other crew members. Sarah waved her hand, catching his gaze. He nodded and walked over with a smile that launched the show to stardom. Brandon was taller than him with a shaggy cut and strong features. The character Brandon played, Roman, was a mix of rugged good looks and charm. The rising star reminded Pierce of many athletes he knew.
“Hi, I’m Brandon.” He held out his hand.
“I’m Pierce, and this is Demi. Thank you for fitting us into your schedule.”
“For a set of Cowboys season tickets? I should be thanking you.” Brandon grinned and offered his hand to Demi. “It’s nice to meet you, Demi.” Brandon’s voice softened, and he shook her hand with a gentle touch.
“Hi.” Demi’s voice was adorably shy. She squeezed Pierce around his waist, and he grinned.
“So, you guys are fans of the show?” Brandon said.
“Oh yeah. We watch it weekly.” Pierce sent her a wink. He wouldn’t throw her to the wolves and out her in front of the man she’d grown to admire.
“Did you guys come up this way for the shoot?”
“Actually we stayed at The Eagle Inn and made a weekend of it. I’ve been planning it for months, but Demi had no clue.”
“Man, that’s an awesome surprise.” Brandon shook his head, awe in his voice.
“Yeah, it was.” Demi smiled up at him stupidly.
Brandon looked from him to Demi. “You two married?”
Pierce coughed, and Demi shook her head with a horrified expression her face.
“Whoa, sorry.” Brandon held up his hands.
“We’ve been best friends literally our entire lives. This is our first outing as a couple.”
“Man, you started things off at a high bar, didn’t you?” Brandon raised his eyebrows.
Demi laughed.
“Had to make sure I got the girl.” Pierce shrugged.
They continued with small talk, and he decided he genuinely liked the man.
* * * *
Stunned by the lengths Pierce had gone, Demi struggled to process her thoughts on the drive home. He’d crept in like a cat, and the aftereffect was slamming into her like g-force.
“You’re quiet.”
“I’m in awe.”
He smiled. “I’m going to enjoy that one while it lasts.”
“How in the hell am I ever going to pay you back? This was the surprise to end all surprises.” She turned her body toward him in the passenger seat.
“You not shooting me down was thanks enough, trust me.”
“Who is this smooth line-dropping man in the driver seat? It’s like you were made out of thin air.”
“No, I just never approached you with that…skill set. I was deathly afraid of ruining what we had. So I kept myself in check.”
“And now?” She held her breath.
“I don’t have a reason to, right?” He glanced over at her quickly.
“No.”
The tension in his shoulders eased, and they settled in for the lengthy drive home.
They pulled into her parking lot, and the building loomed in front of her like a rain cloud. Her shoulders slumped, and she sighed.
“I know. I don’t want the weekend to end either,” Pierce said. She turned to look at him, and he reached over, taking her hand. Butterflies flapped their wispy wings in her belly. This is where we set the tone for our future. I’ve been running for years. It’s time to stop, let the past go, and move forward. After all he’d done for her, she’d be a fool to let him slip through her fingers. It wasn’t the money spent, but the thought behind it all that moved her. He’d given her a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, and all he wanted in return was a chance to win her heart. As fast as she knew that gave him modern-day knight status. She’d never been the type who needed to be rescued, but a man who came bearing a weekend of cosplay and unconditional acceptance of her geek tendencies deserved to be held in high esteem. Heart pounding like a crazy beat in a techno song, she took the first step.
“It doesn’t have to.” She toyed with the hem of her T-shirt.
“Are you inviting me into your house?”
“Yes.” She peered up at him through thick lashes, floored by the blinding smile he bestowed.
“I accept.”
“You have work tomorrow,” she said, a last-ditch effort to give him an out.
“You’re worth getting up early for, D.”
Fighting the urge to melt in the seat, she cleared her throat. “Let’s get our things. I want to thank you properly for what you did today.”
“Thank me?” His lids lowered, and his pink tongue flicked out and licked his lips.
“Mm-hm. Words alone could never fully express how much this weekend meant to me. But I think with a little…artistic interpretation I can manage it.”
“You want to go inside and paint.” He arched an eyebrow. His lip curled up in an amused smirk.
“Sure, you can paint me white with your paintbrush if you want.” He moaned, and she grinned. “You like that thought, don’t you?”
“What I’d like to do is turn the tables.” He leaned over the console and wound her curls around his hand, pulling them taut. “And be the one in charge.”
She swallowed to moisten her suddenly dry mouth. Her pulse raced, and her nipples pebbled. His warm
breath caressed the side of her face. “Will you let me have the control? Let me use that delectable body to fulfill my needs? I promise you’ll love every minute of it.” He tugged her hair gently, and she yelped. Liquid heat flooded her underwear. Her chest heaved. She struggled to take in more air. The silence turned to tension, and she sat stock-still, eager for his next move. “What do you say, Demi?” He nipped her neck hard. “Yes or no?”
“Yes.”
“I’m going to make you crave me.” The rough tone made her gasp. Heat flooded her cheeks and moved down her body. He appeared on the passenger side and opened the door with their bags in his hands before she could get a hold on her emotions. A part of her wanted this desperately. Her mind swirled with visions of her at his mercy, his big hands holding her down as he administered sweet torture with his mouth. He moved in, unbuckled her seat belt, and guided her out of the car and into her house. The door shut behind him, their bags hit the floor, and he pinned her to the frame. Keys clattered to the floor, and he ran his fingers up her arms, raising them above her head. Gripped in one of his large hands, they rested against the door. Captivated and held down, she felt like a sexy sacrifice.
“I don’t know what to do first.” The hunger in his gaze stole her breath. He trailed his fingertips down her neck, and her body tightened. All of her senses strained to experience everything he had to offer.
“Your eyes are fucking liquid velvet right now. It makes me hard knowing I do that to you.” He wrapped his fingers around her neck, tracing the sensitive flesh of her voice box with his thumb. The unusual pressure tied her stomach up in knots. Anticipation blossomed. If he increased the pressure, her breathing would be hindered. Does he like it that rough?
“Before we play I want to set some ground rules. Red’s for stop, and yellow for slow down. Can you remember that?”
“Yes,” she said, almost unable to recognize her meek voice.
“Oh, baby, you’ve needed this for a long time, I think. Look at how beautifully you submit to my will. Because you know I’ll never push you past your breaking point, don’t you?” He paused in midstroke, and their gazes caught and held. Unable to speak around the lump in her throat, she nodded.
“Good girl.” He stepped back. “Take off your shirt for me. I want to see you peel away your layers and bare yourself.” His words were full of sin, sex, and double edges. He wanted her to open everything: body, heart, mind. Her fingers shook as she gripped the edge of her shirt and pulled it over her head. A hunger for closeness and the relief of the burden she carried around on a daily basis rushed up to the surface. Water distorted her view. She sensed Pierce hesitate.
“Don’t you dare stop,” she said.
He chuckled. “If you want to continue, the rest of your clothes have to go.”
The intimacy of revealing herself to him out in the open in the midafternoon sun shook her to the core. Naked, she did her best not to fidget.
“So beautiful, Demi. All curves and soft places to welcome my planes. Turn around and put your hands on the door above your head.”
Her breath hitched as she complied. Unable to see anything, she strained to hear. He ran his hand down her back to her ass, massaging her globes.
“Spread your legs. That’s it.” His magic fingers moved to her upper thighs, and she trembled as he teased her with his almost touch on the needy place that wept. Her swollen breasts pressed into the cool door. The contrasts and Pierce’s wicked teasing made her moan.
“You ready to feel my fingers in your most delicate place?” The lyrical words drugged her senses further.
“God, Pierce.”
He ran a finger down her slippery lips and circled her swollen nub. She bucked her hips, and he eased inside her walls. She flexed, gripping him tight as she allowed herself to simply feel.
“So sexy the way you take me inside you.” His rhythm and praise were like a dark sensual swirl of chocolate, decadent and pleasurable as sensations spiraled their way through her. She wrestled the urge to move against him down, terrified he’d stop. He circled her walls, and she let her head fall back as she screamed.
“That’s what I wanted to hear. So close I can feel it. Ride my fingers until you come.” Like a runner in the last lap, she moved at top speed, greedy to make the finish. A few rocks later, she clamped down on him and cried out as she convulsed. Her legs turned to mush, and she slumped against the door. He wrapped an arm around her waist, keeping her upright.
“You did so good, baby.” He peppered kisses on her back. “But I’m nowhere done with you yet.” He grabbed his bag, and scooped her up into his arms, carrying her bridal-style to her bedroom. In and out of lucidity, she coasted the blissful afterglow that had wrapped her in its arms.
He laid her on his king-size bed and ran his hands up her legs, giving her a gentle massage that did nothing to help her languish.
“You ready to be tied up now, baby?”
“Mmmhmm.” She forced her eyelids open.
“I want to try something with you. It’s unconventional, but I think you’ll enjoy it as much as I do.” He moved away and walked over to his bag. She heard the slide of the zipper followed by rustling, and he reappeared with a scarlet rope in his hand.
“Pierce?”
“Do you know what these are?” He trailed the soft material between her cleavage.
“Bondage ropes?”
“Very good, beautiful. The art of bondage is called Shibari. I like to see skin encased in a pretty intricate pattern on the flesh that heightens both our arousals. I’ve dreamed of seeing this scarlet against you for so long. Will you allow me the honor of demonstrating now?”
Her eyes were glued to the rope.
“Go ahead and feel it.” She reached out and ran her hands over the soft material. It called to her, manipulating her adventurous side to come out and play.
“I want to try.”
“Let’s get you used to Scarlet. I had her waiting here today, just in case.”
His words reinforced her decision.
“We’ll start with a very simple binding around your breast called a Shinju harness.” He caressed Scarlet with his fingertips and unwrapped her with such reverence, Demi couldn’t help but feel honored. Pierce took this very seriously. He unwound the rope and ran the length through his elegant fingers.
“Stand up.”
She rose on shaky legs, eager and nervous for what would follow.
“Turn around.”
She did as he asked, and he pressed the rope against her back, holding it in place with a finger.
“Be still. This is the fun part. Dressing my woman in the beautiful art I alone create.” He worked methodically. “You’re my canvas now, Demi.” The rope tightened, hugging her skin, giving her a sense of security she hadn’t felt since her father died, making her an orphan. Almost an embrace, it relaxed her muscles.
“Oh, baby, if you could only see yourself. You like it, don’t you?”
“Yes.” She leaned toward him, allowing him to support her weight as he delivered feather-soft caresses down her back. Her breasts were heavy and achy. Her core gushed. “You smell delicious. I don’t even know where to start.” He pushed her back gently, and she balanced on her own feet. A pinch to her nipples sent a jolt of electricity clear through her body.
“Pierce!” He rolled both extended points between his fingers, and the walls of her pussy clenched. Sensations were heightened to levels she’d never dreamed of. He paused, sucked a rock-hard bud into his mouth, and she arched her back. He moaned, and the vibrations made her whimper. A bowstring drawn tautly, she rubbed her thighs together to relieve the throbbing pulse.
He released her breast with a loud pop. “You need more, don’t you?” He moved to the opposite breast and slid his hand down her stomach, creeping closer to the place she craved him most. She panted as her lungs malfunctioned, tripping up her breaths. He parted her lips, and she moaned.
“So wet and ready.” He flicked her clit, and her hips
snapped forward. “I could make you wait, draw it out until you begged, but I won’t, because I’ve been waiting for this too.” He slid two fingers inside. “Look at how you cling to me. Greedy girl. I’ll give you all you need and more.” Her eyes lowered to slits as the spell he wove washed over her, stealing the ability to focus on anything other than the things he did to her body. “Fuck.” The ragged sound tore from his throat. “I need you now, Demi.” He removed his fingers, kicked off his shoes, and yanked down his jeans and boxer briefs. He wrapped his hands around her hips, lifting her up. She wound her legs around him and locked her arms around his neck, so high on passion she felt like she’d been placed on a carnival ride.
“I’m going to fuck you so good, baby.” He led her over to the dresser, set her on the cool surface, and thrust home. The shock of the invasion and the temperature rolled her eyes back in her head. They came together like animals. She clawed at his back as he took her hard and fast. She tightened around him, letting go as white light exploded behind her eyelids and the orgasm he’d built up exploded like a bomb.
Chapter Eight
Demi paced the area in front of her desk, pulling her cardigan closer to her body. The never-ending chill had seeped into her bones. The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end. Something was wrong. She’d been certain she’d freed Bronwyn before. An oppressive feeling settled over her, and she clutched the soft gray material in her hand and turned. Nothing but empty air greeted her. She licked her dry lips and ran a hand through her curls. A few weeks after ghost hunting, and I’m cracking up. Her eyes told her there was nothing there, but her instincts told her not to drop her guard. Frustrated, she walked from the workspace into the kitchen.
She pulled her Tardis blue teakettle from the cabinet and moved to the sink. The familiar task and the sound of running water entering the metal base eased the tension from her shoulders. I’ll have a nice cup of tea and head back to work on another level of the game. Pleased with her plan, she shut off the water and stepped away from the sink. Something ran past the window. She jumped, sloshing water everywhere. Her heart thudded. She set down the kettle and ran for the front door. Whoever it was must’ve been running at top speed, because she hadn’t registered more than a shadow. She swung the door open, and she stepped out onto the porch, glancing from the left to the right.
