Authors: Joey W. Hill
reminder as she
began to push herself away from his
knee. A flutter of
embarrassment and uncertainty went
through her, the
muscles under his touch going tense
as wire. “I’m on the
phone with Brad in Costa Rica,”
Peter said without
preamble. “They have an error code
on the CNC. Brad’s
thinking it may have been damaged
by a power surge. His
guys have traced the ladder logic to a
certain point, but now
they’re thinking we need to send over
a factory expert to
look at it. I was thinking I’d let him
tel you what’s up first, just
in case you have a different take on
it.”
“Okay, put him on speaker.”
If there had been any discernible
pause, anything she
could cal a surprised hesitation or
shock at finding her
here, she didn’t detect it in Peter’s
voice. He also didn’t
greet her, didn’t address her, didn’t
acknowledge her
separately. He was treating her as a
slave doing her
Master’s bidding.
She might not have been in any
BDSM clubs until her il -
advised visit to Club More, but when
she was at the peak of
her crazed fever to integrate this in
her life, she’d delved
into hundreds of Internet scenarios
that stoked her own
desires. However, it wasn’t even that
which told her Peter’s
behavior was appropriate, expected.
She just
knew
.
The realization sent a hard jolt
through her, a combined
physical and emotional reaction she
couldn’t control. Peter
touched her shoulder, an intimate
slide of his fingers over
the line to her col arbone. Through
that casual touch, he
would recognize there was no bra
beneath, even if the
stretch of the nearly transparent silk
over her erect nipples
didn’t. He pul ed her hair, a mild
tease, before he moved
toward Jon’s desk and punched the
button on the phone on
the desk. “Brad, I’ve got Jon here.
Go.”
Last night had been a shock to her
system, the details of
which she’d begun to deny and avoid
almost before she let
herself revisit them. So in al her
years of picturing the first
true Master-sub experience of her
life, she never would
have imagined this. Or how
overwhelming and stimulating it
was, such that the shaking was getting
worse. She had to
lock her jaw so her teeth wouldn’t
chatter. She kept her
eyes down, fastened on Jon’s
polished shoe. She
wondered who did that for him.
Probably a dry cleaner. The
laces were precisely double-knotted.
The thin dark sock
etched out the bones of his ankle. She
couldn’t help herself.
She made a track along the curve of
that bal joint with her
fingertip, a whisper of a touch, then
fol owed the slope of
the shoe’s mouth.
He was asking questions of the
invisible Brad. The
questions were involved, technical
issues regarding
machine programming and gears,
engine parts. Listening
to him talk like that, al while having
her at his knee like this,
was quite possibly the most erotic
thing she’d ever
experienced. He hadn’t stopped that
absent stroke of her
hair, but as she slipped a finger
inside his shoe, trying to
trace his insole, he gave a lock of
hair a quick tug, a
reproof. She stopped, but kept her
hand on his foot. He
didn’t tug again, so she was glad the
contact was okay. Her
cheek was against his thigh after al ,
lips near the outside of
his knee.
From the position of his legs, Peter
was apparently
leaning against Jon’s desk, his ankles
crossed. Unlike Jon
and Lucas, he wore jeans, Nikes. He
probably had his
arms crossed over his broad chest,
biceps contracted in a
way sure to catch a woman’s eye.
Until this moment, she realized she
hadn’t even thought
about her blouse being open several
buttons. In this
position, Peter definitely could see
the bare curves. Instead
of being appal ed, she was excited.
She was safe with Jon.
A Master who would take care of
her, like he said.
“Cal us if that doesn’t work,” Peter
said at last. “We can
always send someone down, and I’l
be back there next
week.”
“Hey, bring Dana with you again. She
scalped me last
time and I want to win my money
back.”
“You’re an embarrassment, Brad.
You should know better
than to play Blind Man’s Bluff with a
blind
woman
. I’l tel her
you’re ready to lose more of your
money though.”
Peter cut the connection after a few
more comments
back and forth. “Thanks, Jon. I knew
you were on a tight
timeline on that drawing, but this was
holding up
production.”
“No problem. I’m pretty much ready
to send this down to
scanning. Just need to put the revision
number on it.
Rachel’s good for the concentration.”
“I’l bet she is.” Peter pushed off the
desk and moved to
stand beside Jon, studying the
drawing in progress. As he
did, he gave her shoulder that teasing
caress again, and
then he caught the col ar of her shirt,
eased it off her
shoulder. Rachel held her breath,
every nerve ending
conscious of Jon’s fingers as he
adjusted his sensual, slow
massage so Peter could trace her
bare col arbone. When
he dropped to the upper curve of her
breast, it made her
jerk, sent a jolt through her nipple
like electric shock, even
though Peter didn’t touch it.
“Beautiful,” he murmured.
It wasn’t trepidation making her
quake like that, not by a
long shot. She was burning up with
desire, two men’s
hands touching her at one Master’s
behest.
…let my friends gang rape you in an
alley…
No. It wasn’t like that. It wasn’t. She
thrust it from her
mind, her hand tightening on Jon’s
foot. Whatever this was,
she wanted it clean and pure, a
treasure she could lock
away from al that, because she was
smart enough to know
it was going to end soon enough. The
fact Peter was so
comfortable with her here had to
mean that there’d been
others. Jon was a young, single man,
and they’d obviously
shared subs before. It was as she’d
realized earlier.
Whatever this might mean to her, and
what it was for Jon,
could never be the same thing.
“Hey.” She didn’t even realize her
aroused trembling had
become something else, or that Peter
had left, until Jon
bent and put both arms around her,
pul ing her deeper into
the vee of his legs. Her back was
against the stool between
them. She was twitching with an
emotional reaction that felt
too close to a panic attack for
comfort. “Easy. Breathe.
You’re amazing, Rachel.”
“You like your women edgy and
neurotic?” She gave a
harsh chuckle, but she was holding
onto his arm that
stretched over her breasts. “God,
Jon, that was…I didn’t
even…it didn’t bother me. I
wanted…more.”
“I know.”
“This is the way it starts.” She
needed to get up, needed
to put space away from him. “I can’t
get lost in this.”
He kept her captured inside his arms
easily. “Rachel, if
you’d been here alone, and Peter had
done that, what
would you have done? No, stop
squirming. Close your
eyes, imagine it. I’m not here. He is.
You’re sitting on the
sofa, and he leans down, unbuttons
your blouse, pul s it off
your shoulder to admire your breasts.
How does that feel?”
She set her jaw. “Wrong. He’s
engaged.” At his silence,
she knew there was more to it, but
she couldn’t say that,
any more than she could cal Jon…
what everything in her
wanted to cal him. She settled for a
whisper of the truth.
“You aren’t there.”
He cupped her jaw, tilted her head up
and back to his
mouth and claimed her lips. Hot,
strong, forceful, so she
continued to quiver in his grip,
submitting to the demand.
When he lifted his head, she was
nearly limp. “You’re damn
right I’m not.” She saw that flash of
steel, his lips set in a
serious line. “You’re teaching
tonight, right? But tomorrow
your schedule is clear?”
She should wonder how he knew
that, but al she could
think about was the picture they
made, her on her knees,
pul ed back against him, her body
arched up to him this
way, breasts straining against the
partial y open shirt, every
part of her hungering for him. His
long legs caging her on
either side. Those blue eyes fil ing
every corner of her
vision. She nodded.
“Al right then. Tomorrow night, I’m
going to come to your
place at seven o’clock. It better be
spotless, the way you
normal y keep it. I’m particular to
eggplant parmesan and a
good red wine, and from what I saw
of your kitchen, you like
to cook. You’l put out one place
setting. Mine. Any food you
eat or wine you drink that night wil
come from my hands,
my mouth.”
It would never happen. Between now
and then, the
enchantment of this moment would
disappear and her fears
would return. The spel only existed
in his presence. She’d
be cal ing him frantical y, hoping to
get his voice mail, tel ing
him she’d had something unexpected
come up. She’d run
away to check into a hotel for the
night. She’d—
“I’l be on time, so five minutes
before I get there, you
unlock the door. Then you kneel by
my chair. Submissive
position. Hands behind your back,
back straight, knees
parted to shoulder width. You leave
your hair down. You
don’t do that too often, do you?
Because you think you’re
too old to wear it down like a girl,
but you can’t bear to cut
it.” Before she could respond, he
continued. “Turn up your
heat to keep warm, because other
than this beautiful hair,
you’l wear only that pair of cherry-
red heels. What’s your
favorite flower?”
She couldn’t keep up with him, let
alone voice her
reservations. “Wildflowers,” she
whispered. “No particular
kind.”
“What grows wild on the roadsides,
hmm?” His lips
brushed the sensitive skin behind her
ear. “Perfect.” Sliding
his hand down the curve of her spine
to her ass, he
weighed one buttock in his hand. As
he smoothed his
fingers over the fabric of her slacks,
then tightened his grip,
a needy sound came from her lips.
“I know you’re worrying that by
tomorrow night you’l have
shut down or be running from this
again. And you wil be.
But I’m going to give you a leash,
something to keep you
tethered to my wil , even when I’m
not with you to enforce it.
Come with me.”
He rose then, bringing her to her feet.
They were
standing so close together that the
curve of her bottom slid
over his erection. She froze, the urge
to rub against him so
overwhelming she didn’t think she
could stop herself.
Holding her hips to keep her stil , he
bent his knees enough
to slide his hard length along that
indentation between her
legs and up the crease between her
buttocks. She gasped,
needing his strength to keep from
swaying forward.
“Yeah, you’re hot for it.” His voice
was husky, rough with
his own lust, and she would have
sold her soul in that
moment to be fucked by him.
Straightforward, raw, no
embel ishment. “Hot and ready, and
that’s how I want to
keep you.”
He guided her over to his desk.
“Lean over and put your
palms on the wood.” His hand was
pressing into her back
even as he gave her the order, and
she had no wil to resist.
Her fingers curled, uncertain, as he
slid her belt free, then
unhooked her slacks, opening up the
zipper so the fabric
fel loose and lower on her hips.
“Stay right in this position.” He was