Author: Roni Loren
He groaned. “I’m trying to be a gentleman.”
She smiled and moved her fingers under the edge of his dress shirt, walking her fingertips along the ripples of his abdomen. “I just want you to be you—whoever that is.”
He lifted his head, his eyes darkening. “No, you don’t.”
He grasped her wrists and gently removed her hands from beneath his shirt, then placed a soft kiss on each one. “You’ve had a long, emotional night. I’m going to leave before we take this too far again.”
Her jaw fell open. “You’re leaving?”
He grabbed her shoulders and eased her off his lap, his expression pained. “I’m not going to risk you hating me in the morning. We’ll go out tomorrow night on a real date. If you still want this by then, I’m all yours.”
She crossed her arms over her chest, anger bubbling in her belly. “Don’t patronize me, Reid. I’m not some flighty chick who is going to jump in bed with someone because I had a bad night. And I’m not some virgin princess either. You don’t have to treat me with kid gloves. Anything I do with you is because I want to.”
Reid’s eyes turned stormy, the vibe rolling off him almost animalistic. He opened his mouth to respond.
“Brynn? I need you.” Her mother’s scratchy voice drifted from the hallway and scraped across her ears.
Fucking hell.
Reid’s expression smoothed into an unreadable mask, and he leaned over to kiss Brynn on the forehead. “We’ll talk about all of this later, sugar, when we’re both thinking more clearly. See you tomorrow at work.”
She hauled herself off the couch and stomped down the hallway. The self-righteous bastard could find his own way to the door.
Reid collapsed onto the couch of his darkened living room, his head still spinning from his disastrous make-out session with Brynn. Fuck. What was wrong with him? Thank God her mother had interrupted them. He’d been about half a second from throwing Brynn down and taking her right there—with no mercy, no restraint. He shifted his position, his dick straining painfully against the zipper of his pants.
He thought he could control himself around her, but she stirred dark urges he’d long been trying to suppress. Something about her made it next to impossible for him to act like a sane person. Brynn had been through hell—she deserved to be cherished, respected, treated like the amazing girl she was. But all he wanted to do anytime he was around her was tie her up and fuck her until she was hoarse from screaming his name and limp with satisfaction.
He tilted his head back against the couch, staring at the ceiling. Maybe his aunt was right. Maybe he needed to stick to a girl like Vanessa—one that he had no trouble controlling himself around.
But at the moment, he couldn’t even recall Vanessa’s face.
Instead, erotic images of Brynn on her knees, blindfolded and bound, flooded his mind. He groaned and closed his eyes. Automatically, his hand undid his fly and he released his straining erection.
Brynn had such a hot mouth, he knew her lips wrapping around his cock would be nothing short of heaven. He would tangle his fingers in her silky hair and command her to take all of him, to let him fuck her mouth with abandon while she held his gaze. Then he’d have his turn on her—tasting her, teasing her, pushing her limits until he brought her to an edge of bliss that, at least for a few moments, would take her away from all the ugliness in her life.
His balls tightened as the forbidden fantasy played in his mind, and in the darkness of his quiet living room, he fisted his cock and gave it long strokes from root to head. He didn’t allow himself any gentleness or finesse. Hard and rough—just like he wanted to take Brynn. He imagined her sucking him hard, scraping her teeth along the tender skin, licking the drops of fluid from the tip, offering him her sweet and utter submission.
Sweat beaded his forehead, and with one last stroke, he let out a guttural moan. Hot fluid splashed onto his shirt and abdomen, and he sank against the sofa, his breath coming in short pants.
God, he was a sick bastard. Even with his best efforts, he couldn’t fight the dangerous craving within him.
Maybe pursuing a relationship with Brynn hadn’t been such a good idea after all. She had enough demons in her own life; he didn’t need to unleash his on her, too. But now that he’d gotten close to the beautiful blonde, he didn’t know how to turn off his desire to be with her. He was going to have to find a way to slay this burning need he had before he crossed the line and scared off Brynn.
And he knew the very person who might be able to help him with that.
SEVEN
Brynn looked down at the address on the business card one more time, then raised her eyes to the storefront. “You’ve got to be freaking kidding me.”
The elegantly scrawled sign for Wicked blended in with the upscale shops around it, but its name left no question about the store’s purpose. Leave it to Reid to fail to mention that the uptown address he’d given her was a sex shop. She sighed. What else would it be? She wasn’t exactly applying for membership to the PTA. She slung her purse over her shoulder and fed a few quarters into the parking meter, pleased her hand didn’t shake during the process.
The tapping of her high-heeled boots silenced as she stepped from the sidewalk to the posh carpet of the store’s entrance. Wine-colored walls and soft music enveloped her, giving her the sense that she’d stepped into some private boudoir. The only indications of the store’s wares were the gorgeous black-and-white erotic photos that adorned the walls.
Brynn’s eyes traveled over each one, the bondage scenes sending a hum of electricity through her nervous system. How something could be so beautiful and frightening to her all at the same time was a wonder.
She drifted closer to the picture on her right—a photo of a woman on her knees, back to the camera, arms laced in intricate strips of leather behind her. The woman’s head was dipped forward in deference to the mysterious man in front of her. The photographer had kept the focus on the girl and left the dom blurred in the distance, a strong and imposing force despite the fuzzy edges. Unconsciously, Brynn lifted her hand as if to touch the picture.
“Beautiful, isn’t it?” said a friendly male voice.
Startled, she instantly dropped her hand and stepped back from the art. “What?”
A young, raven-haired man came around the register positioned on the back wall and walked toward her. “That one is one of my favorites. I love how she’s showing such trust in the face of the unknown.”
A nervous smile jumped to her lips. “Um, yes, it’s very… powerful.”
“Indeed.” He nodded, emanating a sage energy that didn’t match his boyish looks. “So what can I help you with today? Are you looking for art or something else?”
She shifted her weight to the opposite leg and resisted the urge to wipe her sweaty palms on her pants. “I was supposed to ask for Jason.”
One of his perfectly groomed brows twitched a bit, but he quickly smoothed his expression. “Of course. My name’s Marius. Let me take you upstairs where the main store is. You can look around while I go get him for you.”
“Thank you,” she said, and followed his lead to a narrow staircase. “So the whole store is upstairs? Why rent the downstairs space as well?”
He glanced back at her and smiled. “A lot of people prefer the privacy of knowing that those walking by on the street can’t peek in and see what they’re shopping for. Many of our customers have conservative jobs or public images. So that’s important. Plus, I doubt the neighborhood would’ve agreed to allow this type of store if our merchandise was going to be on display.”
“Makes sense,” Brynn said, climbing the last step and walking into the main shop. The décor matched the bottom floor, but instead of erotic photography, there were rows of sex toys, bondage equipment, and high-end lingerie.
Marius crooked a thumb behind him. “I’ll go get Jason for you. Feel free to browse. You have the store to yourself right now. We usually don’t get busy until after ten or so.”
“Thanks.” She waited until he disappeared before she took him up on the browsing offer.
Brynn wandered down the first aisle, trying to keep her mind off the conversation she was about to have. She eyed the collection of vibrators, the shear variety astounding her. She shook her head. Dolphins, rabbits, butterflies. Why were they all named after animals? What was sexy about that? If she invented a line, she’d name them after movie stars. The Mark Wahlberg. The Brad Pitt. She smiled. Maybe she had missed her calling.
She turned the corner to the next aisle and sucked in a breath. Rows of black leather restraints, paddles, and whips lined the shelves along with loads of things she couldn’t identify. The photo from downstairs flashed through her brain. This was what she was signing up for—complete submission to a stranger. A golf-ball-sized lump lodged in her throat.
She picked up one of the items, a flogger according to the tag, and threaded her fingers through the soft strips at the end of the handle. The leather felt cool against her skin, but she imagined the material would heat up quickly when wielded by a strong hand. She resisted the urge to smack it across her palm to test the theory.
She’d never done anything with actual equipment. She and Reid had both been new to the idea back then and hadn’t ventured very far into this world. They’d worked with whatever they had around. She drew the leather across her hand again, and images of Reid standing behind her, flogger in hand, invaded her thoughts. A hot tingling fired up in her belly and crept lower.
She shook her head—God, she was so twisted up with this. Her body hadn’t forgotten what it had been like with Reid, how unbelievably explosive the sex had been. But the same thoughts that got her body slick and ready made her mind want to splinter into a thousand pieces.
“My God, Brynn LeBreck,” said a genial voice, startling her from her errant thoughts.
She looked up, fumbling to put the flogger back on the rack, and her breath caught.
“I didn’t think it was possible for you to get more gorgeous,” Jace said, green eyes sparkling. “But clearly I was wrong.”
“Jace?” she asked, her mind still processing his presence as the broad-shouldered man gathered her into a crushing hug.
He stepped back, smiling. “Didn’t you know that’s who you were coming to see?”
She shook her head. “No, Reid didn’t mention it, and I didn’t realize your full name was Jason.”
He laughed and scrubbed a hand through his surfer-style blond hair. “That shithead. I’m sorry. I thought you knew.”
No, but it would’ve been nice to be warned. She was going to kick Reid’s ass when she got back to the office tomorrow. She took a deep breath and smiled. Her problem was not with Jace. He’d never been anything but kind to her. “No, it’s fine. Actually, better than fine. It’s great to see you.”
He motioned for her to follow him. “Why don’t you come on back to my office so we can chat?”
When he reached his door, he swung it open and let Brynn walk in before him. The space was large, but cozy, resembling a sitting room in a fancy hotel more than an office. Only the massive cherrywood desk gave away the room’s true purpose. She settled into the cushioned wingback chair. “Beautiful office.”
“Thanks. I’d take credit for the decorating, but this was my sister’s project. She was starting an interior design business, and I was her guinea pig.” Instead of sitting behind his desk, Jace dropped into the matching chair across from her. “So how the hell have you been? Reid tells me you’re a therapist now.”
She crossed her legs and tried to give the appearance of being at ease, although her insides were knotted into a pretzel. “I am. I work at the Women’s Crisis Center.”