Michelle: The Ties That Bind (Auction Night Book 3)

by Ellie Masters

Knowing well enough not to tease him in public, I draw back to a safe distance and let a little bit of space separate our bodies.

  "We'll make up for it tonight." He gives a little wink, then pulls me back up against him where it's evident he's just as affected by me as I am by him.

  "It's a shame we're not alone."

  "True, but I don't mind waiting. Sometimes anticipation makes it well worth the wait. Besides, I think this is more important." He releases me and turns me toward the store as Katy exits. "Beautiful as ever."

  "Handsome as ever," Katy replies. Like me, she practically skips into Tank's arms. She's known him for years and I think he's kind of like a big brother to her. Her head tucks beneath Tank's chin.

  "He would be so proud of his darling." Tank's hug lasts a long time.

  "Thank you." Her eyes are a little misty and I feel for her loss.

  I can't imagine how I would feel if Tank was no longer with me.

  Tank releases her and gives a little swat to her ass. "Now get in and let's have lunch."

  Katy climbs in to the back of the car and I follow, taking the middle seat. Tank is right there, beside me, his overwhelming presence makes it difficult to breathe. The heat of his body licks up and down my side where we touch bringing dark desires bubbling to the surface. Katy glances out the window, oblivious to the energy pulsing between us.

  Be we both feel it.

  Or maybe it's friction?

  Chapter 6

  Lunch is challenging.

  All I can think about is getting naked with Tank and relieving the persistent ache between my legs. I regret not making it to his office for lunch, and while the time we spend there is brief, our noon liaisons connect us.

  Or maybe it grounds me?

  I'm not really sure. What I know is when I go for our little encounters, we're always in the zone with one another.

  I like that.

  Today, there will be no lunch with him in his office. No time for connecting and reaffirming our unique link. He is with me though, and Katy joins us. I'm not eager to share my time with her, but I understand Tank's need to take care of the grieving slave.

  I don't like to think of her that way, but it's true. Katy is adrift without her Master.

  "I have a surprise for you." There's a twinkle in Tank's eye.

  "You do?"

  "Yes. You're going to love it."

  I'm expecting some posh, impossible to get in, upscale, white linen establishment. He takes us, instead, to the park where we gobble down hotdogs, greasy fries, and rent Segways. We race around the park, having fun while we indulge our inner child.

  My cheeks hurt from laughing. Katy's face is one huge smile. And Tank is like a mischievous little boy, chasing us while we scream from imminent collisions which never happen.

  When I think about the smile on Katy's face, I realize what he's done. There are too few moments where she really smiles, but then I'm grinning too. Maybe there are too few smiles on my face lately.

  Unlike me, Tank's attention isn't on Katy. The man has eyes only for me.

  After we chase ducks and terrorize pigeons, it's time to leave.

  "Did you have fun?" Tank pulls me to him.

  I'm still breathing fast. "The best."

  He kisses the crown of my head. "I'm glad."

  "Thank you. Katy needed that."

  "So did you." He places the pad of his finger over my forehead. "You think too hard."

  "Do I?"

  "You do, and I don't like that troubled expression on your face. Things should be fun, not hard."

  "Sometimes it's hard to get out of my head."

  "I understand that, which is why I think you'll have fun at the spa today. I want you to take a little time for yourself."

  "I really appreciate that and I know Katy does too. I don't think she wants to be alone today."

  "While I agree with that, and support it, that's not why I'm sending you to the spa." He bends his knees and hunches down until we're eye to eye. "I'm sending you because you need it. You're stressed and I don't like seeing you upset. I want you to forget about everything and simply enjoy a moment."

  "It's hard to make my mind stop spinning." I cup his chin and drag my hand across his stubble. I'd like the burn of that between my legs. "I need you for that."

  "You have me." He straightens until he's looking down on me again. "You always have me, but you don't need that right now. Trust me."

  He's wrong.

  "I'm going to miss you." I say, meaning it more than I realize.

  "I'll miss you more." He tweaks my nose, then dips down again to press his lips against mine. The contact is brief, fleeting, and absolutely perfect.

  "When will I see you? The appointment isn't over until four and Katy wants to get to the club to begin setting up at five."

  "I have meetings through the rest of the afternoon. I'll meet you at the club, if that's okay. James will take you to the spa, home to grab your things, then to the club." He squeezes my hand. "I can't wait to see your outfit."

  I can't wait for him to see it either, although I'm wishing I had bought a pirate wench's outfit instead of the genie outfit I have. Tank is a fan of the old television series, I Dream of Jeannie. He says it was kink before its time.

  I certainly see the references.

  And I have a sudden realization why he loves that show so damn much. He wants to be a Master to a mischievous genie. How did I miss that?

  It's too late to change my costume for the auction, not that I want to. Not after my realization. I don't mind being his genie for the night.

  It's what comes after that I have problems with, but maybe that's not what he wants at all.

  Okay, now I'm really confused.

  The spa is exquisite. We sign in and fill out a couple forms before we begin. I grab Katy's arm and point to a couple in matching white robes who disappear behind a corner.

  "Is that Penny and Thomas?"

  "I don't know." Katy peers down the hall, but the couple is gone. "Did you see her?"

  Penny is one of our good friends who submits to two men. Her Master is a high-profile trial attorney and her Dom is a country music star.

  "Yeah, and I think I saw Thomas."

  "She told me he was coming in today. She's probably more nervous than you are about tonight." Katy gives a friendly jab to my ribs.

  "Ow." I rub where her sharp elbow dug at me. "I can't imagine being in her shoes. Have you ever dated two men at once?"

  "Never. I always had Andy and he never shared. Not that I ever wanted to. But it works for them."

  "I think I'd go crazy dating two men. Make those men fierce alpha dominants and…" I shake my head. There's no way to wrap my head around that.

  Katy lowers her voice. "Have you ever had DP?"

  It takes a minute for my mind to catch up. DP? Then my eyes widen. I've never dated two men, let alone been fucked by them at the same time.

  My voice is low when I respond. "No. How does that work? Like pussy and ass, I guess, but…" I'm imagining a science fiction romance I once read where two men fucked their woman in her pussy. There was something about their dicks fusing together. I don't really remember except for thinking it was kind of strange. Erotic as hell, but odd.

  One of the technicians calls our names. She guides us to the locker room where we change into our white fluffy robes.

  I've talked with Penny about tonight. She and I want different things. Like Katy, Penny embraces the slave lifestyle with her Master, Eric. Thomas is her Dom, not her Master, and the two men share her between them.

  While I'm running from the M/s dynamic, Penny and Katy are fully invested. They swear it's the most intimate relationship of them all. I'm not so sure about that. What Tank and I have is pretty damn intimate.

  Penny wants one night with her men, together. I have a sinking suspicion her men might want something else. Tonight will be full of interesting surprises.

  I bring my pad of paper with me. All I have scribbled is
a long list of Cons and only one Pro. It's impossible to get anything accomplished during my manicure, but I manage to scrawl a few notes during my pedicure.

  Katy sits beside me and I'm dying to talk with her more. I need her insight. Maybe it will help me figure out what I want. But we can't speak about Masters and slaves in a day spa. Our conversation is filled instead with setting up for tonight's event, our evening gowns, and other nonsense.

  By the time I'm done getting waxed and my facial is finished, I'm jittery and unfocused. I know what I need, or rather who.

  Katy and I are scheduled for a ninety-minute massage as the end of our treatments, but I can't spend another minute away from Tank. I call James and explain to Katy.

  "I'm sorry, but I just really need to see him." My pad of paper is clutched tight under my arm while my guts twist and turn inside my belly.

  Katy pulls me into a hug. "No need to feel bad. I understand."

  "You're okay if I ditch you?"

  She gives a little wave. "I'm perfectly fine. I've had a great day and it's not like we're going to talk each other’s ears off during the massage. I'm going to go in there and get rid of the last bit of stress I have. You go find your man and work off your stress with him."

  I can't help but grin. Katy knows me too well. I just hope Tank doesn't mind my impromptu drop-in.

  James is waiting for me with the car and I'm silent during the drive to Tank's office. He said he would be busy the rest of the afternoon, and I shouldn't bother him, but I can't stop this restless feeling in my gut.

  It's not something I really understand. Is this what an anxiety attack feels like?

  It feels as if the world is spinning.

  Like something bad is going to happen.

  I don't know how to stop it. I don't know if this weird feeling is real. What I do know is I need Tank's steady hand and the sureness of his voice.

  If he can tell me everything will be all right, I'll be able to relax.

  James pulls up at Tank's office building and I'm opening the door before the car comes to a complete stop. James doesn't have time to park, let alone open my door, and I can hear him cursing under his breath as he leaps out behind me.

  My steps are light, quick, and I shift nervously side to side as I wait for the elevator. When it dings, I rush inside and smash the button for Tank's floor. His company has grown over the years. What was once a single office is now an entire floor, and he's the boss of it all.

  Sally, the receptionist, greets me with a smile. "Hi, Michelle, Tank's expecting you."

  "He is?" I pull up short because me being here is supposed to be a surprise.

  Not wanting his receptionist to think I'm a dork, I rush past Sally's desk and head to the corner office where Tank is evidently expecting me.

  His door is open and he's leaning against his desk fiddling with the cuffs of his pressed Oxford shirt. His attention cuts directly to me and he gives me a look.

  "Good afternoon, Michelle."

  I pause in the doorway. "Hi." My voice flutters around the word, barely pushing it out.

  "Why don't you come in and shut the door?"

  "Sally said you were expecting me. I thought you had clients for the rest of the afternoon."

  "I did."

  "I…"

  "Come inside. Shut the door." The tonal registers of his voice drop and my stomach squeezes with what that implies. "And don't forget the lock."

  "I didn't mean to bother you." I do exactly as he commands. I shut the door then twist the lock closed as silently as I can.

  I don't know if any of his office staff know what we do in here. We try to be as discreet as possible. His office is huge and I'm pretty sure he put in sound dampeners some time ago.

  "How did you know…"

  He picks up his phone and speaks to whoever is on the other end. "You can take a break James. She's here and we won't be leaving for some time." There's a dark hunger stirring in his voice.

  I realize James kept Tank abreast of my comings and goings. No wonder it doesn't come as a surprise that I'm here. I'm certain James called in my change of plans the moment he hung up with me. And since I didn't hear him on the phone during our drive over here, I assume he called Tank while I was on my way up to Tank’s office.

  I stand by the door, suddenly terrified of stepping one foot further into Tank's office. I'm not scared. Tank never scares me. It's just there's an energy pulsing in this room which can't be denied.

  "Did you enjoy your time at the spa?"

  "I did." I glance around and gulp when I notice the folders littering his conference table. "Did I interrupt you?"

  "You did."

  "I really am sorry." I could have waited, but from the heat licking in his gaze, Tank would never make me wait.

  He doesn't move. Leaning against his desk, he goes back to fiddling with his cuffs. He's rolling them up with deliberate intent. There's an affected disinterest in his pose, but I sense the caged beast inside struggling to get out.

  I came here to be with Tank.

  To have sex.

  To connect.

  But I find myself suddenly rooted in place, unable to go to him freely. There's an awkwardness growing inside of me.

  His attention is focused on his cuffs, but I know it's an act. Tank is acutely aware of my presence.

  "I made a list." Why the hell am I sharing this with him?

  "A list?"

  "Of pros and cons."

  "Is that so?" Deep, powerful, and masculine, his voice is also smooth as silk. There's power contained in the undertones and endless patience in the deep wells of his eyes.

  "Yes, Sir."

  I flip the switch between us, moving us from Tank and Michelle to Dom and sub.

  His body jerks. Like me, he feels the electricity crackling in the air, but he doesn't act on it.

  "I would very much like to see your list, but I'm not going to ask for it."

  "You're not?"

  "Did you come here to share your list with me? Or did you come for another reason?"

  "I don't know."

  "Are you certain about that?" He kicks off from the desk and his hands go to his belt. Slowly, methodically, he watches me like a hawk while he unbuckles the belt and slowly draws it through the loops. As he frees it, he wraps the metal buckle around his wrist, leaving the last ten inches of the hard leather free.

  The ache between my legs is unbearable and I can't help but squeeze my thighs together.

  "I need to burn, Sir."

  Chapter 7

  I need all the chatter in my head to shut the fuck up so that I can figure out what it is that I want.

  Not what Tank wants. I know what he wants.

  What I don't know is what do I want, and there's only one way to silence the screaming in my head.

  Tank steps to the side and points to the desk.

  "Hands down. Ass in the air. Assume the position."

  A tiny squeak escapes me as I rush to his desk. I do exactly as I'm told. My palms find the burled wood of his desk. I lay myself over it and turn my head until my cheek presses against the warm wood. My legs are straight, thighs pressed together, and my ass is very much on display.

  I'm wearing a short, flirty skirt which he flips up with his hand. His fingers dig into the elastic band of my panties and he slowly lowers them over my hips, around the globes of my ass, and finally down my legs. Crouching behind me, he waits while I step out of them.

  I hear his slow inhale as he fills his lungs with the scent of my fear…and arousal.

  I'm very much aroused.

  "So…" His voice rolls out like a long peal of thunder, "you were to have your essay done by lunch. Is that not so?"

  "Yes, Sir."

  Technically, I think he gave me an extension. Though, I'm wise enough not to correct him.

  His broad hand presses down between my shoulder blades. I'm stuck in place, trapped between his desk and his unyielding hand holding me down.

  There's no warn
ing. Tank doesn't give warnings and he's not one to warm me up nice and slow.

  Crack!

  The tip of his belt strikes my ass and the pain lifts me up on my toes. I rock forward against the desk and my eyes kind of roll back in my head as agony washes through me.

  Crack!

  Crack!

  "I give assignments with a purpose in mind. Willful disobedience is not tolerated." Curt, raw, and abrasive, there is no leniency in his voice. He presses down between my shoulder blades as I try to dance away from the pain.

  This is pain I need.

  Not pain I want.

  And Tank knows this.

  He strikes ten times, until tears leak from my eyes. Pain blinds me and consumes me. It soothes me and the noise in my head goes quiet.

  I failed him, even if he gave me a reprieve earlier. This isn't about the essay. It's about facing my fears and acknowledging them openly between us.

  The roughness of his palm drags over my bruised flesh. The touch soothes some of the burn, but I feel the bruising on my ass as the tender tissues begin to swell. His fingers find the crack of my ass and he swirls his finger around the rim of my puckered asshole.

  I'm not prepared for him to take me there.

  I don't mind anal, but it's something I need to work up to, usually after several intense orgasms.

  His breaths are deep, but controlled. He's being methodical in how he touches me. If I could reach back, I'd find him long, engorged, and ready to fuck. But he's not ready.

  Pain continues to course through me. Ten strikes with his belt is nothing to laugh at, and I'm still processing the pain. It throbs with a relentless force. It's inescapable and there's nowhere for me to hide. I can do nothing but sink into the sensation. It's a welcoming blanket I wrap around myself until I'm completely immersed in sensation.

  My world focuses down to two things.

  Pain and Tank's masterful touch.

  When he finds my wet folds, a whimper escapes my throat. His fingers dip into my wetness and his groan fills the room. He's pleased with what he finds.

  As for me?

  I'm on another plane of existence. There's really no other way to describe my current state.

  "So fucking wet. You're practically dripping for me."