Afterlife (39 page)

information, and he’d recognized it in

a heartbeat. She was

starting to think his flat statement that

she wouldn’t get away

with lying to him meant lying at any

level, even when she

wasn’t immediately aware she was

doing it.

She moistened her lips. “Master,

would you please tel

me the worst thing that happened to

you as a child?”

“Wel done.” He nodded, and the hold

on her hair eased.

He stroked instead, fol owing the

strands down her back, a

more soothing gesture, one that

lingered at her waist then

dropped lower. Sensitive nerves

responded as he idly

traced the depression at the base of

her tailbone.

“My parents were kil ed when I was

ten. That’s why I had

the stutter for a while.”

“Oh Jon. I’m sorry.” It was instinct to

comfort, to lay her

hand over his forearm. He joined

hands with her, bringing

both to his lips for a nuzzling kiss. As

he caressed her

knuckles, he studied them, his

expression caught between

past and present.

“He was a middle school teacher,

English lit, and she

was the school nurse. A student

brought a gun and, wel …

the usual thing.” His grip increased

on hers, reflecting the

weight of those memories. He’d

obviously learned to deal

with them, but it didn’t mean they

didn’t stil have the power

to overcome him. Just like she knew

she’d never real y “get

over” Kyle’s death, that horrible,

ridiculous expression.

“He kil ed several students, wounded

others. My father

was shot when he tried to talk him

down. The shooter got

my mother when she tried to help the

wounded. She was

actual y a trained midwife, but also

served as the school

nurse. You would have real y liked

her. And my father knew

everything about every book that had

been written before

the twentieth century, and nothing

about any written after.

That’s what I told him, a precocious

kid’s scorn for a

parent’s talents. I inherited his

library. I think I read al of it

during my junior high years.” A smile

touched his lips.

“Everything from
Paradise Lost
to

Pliny.”

She tried to match his light tone. “
The

Kama Sutra
?”

“Cover to cover, baby. The original

text, geared toward

wealthy young males in that society.

And I dog-eared more

than a few pages of that one.”

It made her laugh, but she also

impulsively hugged him.

He accepted the embrace, and she

felt something different

from him then, taking comfort for a

deep wound that never

healed. Now it wasn’t about getting

into his vulnerabilities to

balance her own. This was about

understanding more

about the Master and lover who

absorbed her, on so many

levels. And the more she knew about

him, the better she

could serve him—if she dared to

believe this would last.

“Dana said that there were things that

connected you to the

other…to the K&A management. Is

that one of them?”

“Oh go ahead and say ‘Knights’. That

damn article has

infected everyone’s brain.”

“Wel , it wouldn’t if it wasn’t so

darn appropriate.” She

gave his knee a light pinch and won

retribution as he

returned the favor. However, he

pinched much higher up,

sliding his hand beneath her skirt.

She stil ed as he left it

there, tracing a line on the inside of

her thigh, al the way up

to where it met her hip. Looking

down at the thin cloth, she

saw the shape of his hand move

there, so close to the

seam between her legs.

“What did I tel you, Rachel?”

Her brow furrowed, then she

remembered. “Oh…” She

parted her knees, but before she

could look around, he

touched her chin.

“Your eyes stay on my hand. I won’t

embarrass you. This

is a smal exercise in trust, taking

steps toward the bigger

ones.”

“I trust you more than I’ve trusted

anyone, ever.”

“I’m glad to hear it.” He caressed the

crease between

thigh and hip, sending electric tingles

to her pussy that

urged her to squirm on the rough, sun-

warmed wood of the

bench. When he slid his finger

beneath the lace band of the

thong at her hip bone, she was

acutely aware of the way the

fabric burrowed deep between her

buttocks, teasing the

rim of that sensitive area. “Back

straight. Let me see those

nipples hardening.”

It made her cheeks flush, because of

course they were,

stressing the dress fabric. He shifted,

his shoulders

blocking the immediate view from

anyone who might step

into the al ey. Then he stretched the

elastic of the gathered

neckline so it caught beneath her

breasts, exposing and

framing them ful y to his gaze. His

incidental touches to her

bare curves as he made the

adjustment had her fingers

clutching the bench edge. When he

was satisfied with the

view, he bent, picked up his tea,

sipped it as he studied her

exposed, quivering curves in

pregnant silence. She held

her back straight. Held total y stil ,

though it felt so wicked to

be sitting like this, near one of her

favorite coffee shops,

exposed purely for the sexual

enjoyment of her Master.

“Yes, things like that connect us.” It

took her lust-saturated

mind a moment to realize he was

answering her earlier

question about the other men. “Al of

us lost our parents

young. Ben was actual y in foster

care from the time he was

five years old. Ran away from bad

situations a couple

times, lived on the street. At age nine,

he tried to pick

Jonas Kensington’s pocket. Matt’s

father. When Jonas

asked him why he should let him go

instead of cal ing the

police, Ben argued that he was doing

him a public service,

making him conscious of the value of

his money, so he

wouldn’t take it for granted. And, in

point of fact, if the

lesson had value, then Jonas should

real y give Ben a

percentage of what was in his wal

et.”

Despite her current aroused state, she

couldn’t help the

breathy laugh. Seeing Jon’s gaze

flicker at the way it made

her breasts move caught it in her

throat.

“You are so damn beautiful,” he

murmured. She trembled

at a deeper level then, responding to

the sudden fervency in

his tone. He didn’t touch her, but

she’d never felt so…

enveloped, in a man’s attention.

He lifted his eyes back to her face, a

wry quirk now at the

corner of his mouth. “That was the

abridged version of

Ben’s argument. Mr. Kensington

described it as worthy of a

closing at a capital trial. Needless to

say, he didn’t let Ben

go. He worked to find him a better

foster home placement

and committed to financing his

education. When Jonas was

kil ed by a Mexican drug runner on

the border, Matt was

seventeen. But he was born for

business, had been part of

his father’s industry practical y since

he could walk. He took

over his father’s interests, even his

philanthropic ones.” Jon

lifted a shoulder. “And in this

particular case, I say

philanthropy with a grain of salt.

Matt’s no fool. He saw the

advantage of training up a sharp

lawyer, particularly when

he decided to refocus his father’s

business toward

manufacturing acquisitions.”

“I’l bet.” She let out a gasp as he

cupped her right breast,

his hand warmed from holding his

cup. He thumbed her

nipple, flicked it. As he did, he slid

his other hand beneath

the skirt again, but now there was no

teasing. His knuckles

slid firmly over her clit, then down,

finding the opening of her

pussy under the lace panel of the

thong.

“Already slick for me again, aren’t

you?”

“Yes.”
Yes, Master
. God, she wanted

to say it so badly,

without prompting, but instead she bit

her lips, feeling the

heat in her cheeks increase as his

fingers pushed into that

opening, enough to have her heart

rate rabbiting.

“Al right then,” he said, his

penetrating gaze reading

every reaction flickering over her

face. “Let’s go shopping

and see if we can keep that river

flowing. I intend to dip into

it pretty damn often today.” He slid

her dress back into

place, a heartbeat before a couple

came around the

corner, headed for the restrooms.

“Keep your back

straight,” he reminded her, picking up

his tea again. “Don’t

you hide those gorgeous nipples.

They’re mine. Every part

of you is mine to display as I wish.”

She was beginning to believe he

could make her come

with his velvet commands alone, the

things they did to her

body. She obeyed, though she felt a

little self-conscious as

the male stranger’s gaze slid over her

and then screeched

to a halt on that part of her. She

detected it in her peripheral

vision but kept her gaze on Jon, her

Master. This was for

him, and no one else. Nothing else

mattered.

God, she was losing her mind.

Hopeful y she’d find it

again before she made a complete

fool of herself.

Chapter Thirteen

As a woman on a limited budget,

Rachel had learned to

appreciate the pleasure of window

shopping, the

occasional indulgence of walking in

and buying something

modest on impulse. She’d never

experienced shopping

with a handsome, wealthy and

attentive man who was

adamant about paying for everything.

She suspected it

might ruin her for window shopping

ever again.

Though she tried to be conservative,

she quickly learned

his caveat—that he had the power to

approve or

disapprove a purchase—didn’t mean

he would deny her

the things she liked. On the contrary,

it meant he would

refuse her something she’d chosen for

self-critical or price

reasons, hand it back to the solicitous

salesperson and

then choose the item she’d real y

wanted al along. He

hadn’t al owed her to bring her purse,

had pocketed the key

to her apartment, so she had nothing

to carry, no

responsibility beyond anticipating his

desires.

It was overwhelming, flustering. It

swept her off her feet,

made the sun brighter, the breeze

softer and everything

about the world seem better, more

hopeful. And her mood

warily became more hopeful with it.

“So, exactly how rich are you?” she

teased him, stopping

at a jewelry store window to point

out a garish col ar of

diamonds on a velvet display. He

eyed the piece with lifted

brow, gave her a sidelong glance.

“If you promise to wear that tacky,

overstated thing to the

next K&A board meeting, I’l get it

for you. But it’s the only

thing you can wear.”

She laughed. “I don’t think it’s my

style. The necklace,

that is. I won’t say a word about the

other.”

“But it excites you, doesn’t it?” He

bent to brush her ear

with his lips. “The idea of that.”

She cleared her throat. “I’m

surprised you didn’t take me

to a place with…toys.”

“I don’t care for most of those

places. I don’t think you do

either. And you’re avoiding my

question, Rachel.” He

touched her chin, a gesture she’d

noticed he did whenever

she most wanted to avoid eye

contact. But when she most

wanted to look at him, like last night,

he increased her

pleasure with denial. A balance of

her needs against her

wants.

“Jon, you’ve already made me feel

better about things I

didn’t expect to feel better about,

ever. I know you need me

to trust you, but…” She went silent,

the old pain stirring.

“But he made you feel ashamed of

those cravings. As if it

somehow made you faithless or…”

Though Jon spoke

softly, it didn’t make the truth any

less harsh.