Authors: Joey W. Hill
to touch and be touched with such
easy joy. She felt like a
member of a harem for a powerful
sultan—or in this case,
five sultans—glorying in the state of
sensuality that
belonging to such men could keep at
an astonishingly high
level. She hadn’t believed in a dream
like this, had resisted
it, and why? Now that she’d
experienced it, she knew she’d
give almost anything to feel like this.
She’d never
understood there
was
a line between
dangerous addiction
and courage. It was both painful and
thril ing to realize how
close to the positive side of that line
she’d perhaps always
been. But she believed in cycles,
Fate and karma. If she’d
learned to have that courage before
Jon had come into her
life, it wouldn’t have been the same.
Now was the right time,
the way it was meant to be.
They dried her, put her back in her
dress, helped her with
her hair, and she helped them with
theirs, since they’d al
gotten equal y wet. They talked very
little of specific
things…it wasn’t needed. That would
come later. They also
seemed to understand she couldn’t
handle much of
anything beyond immediate thoughts,
simple needs. Playful
touches were mixed once again with
comforting caresses,
hugs, long moments of simply being
held. The reassurance
of women speaking in quiet
conversation.
When at last they emerged, Jon was
waiting at the top of
the stairs, hip propped on the rail. He
was talking to Ben,
who straightened from his panther’s
slouch against the wal
and gave al the ladies a thorough
perusal and rakish grin,
the charming lawyer back in ful
force. “What I would have
given to be in that shower,” he noted,
taking in al the wet
hair and heated, damp skin.
“No boys were al owed,” Dana
informed him. “Boys are
gross.”
She escaped his swat at her backside,
stuck out her
tongue in his direction, then ran for
the direction of Peter’s
voice. Ben fol owed in mock pursuit,
though Rachel noticed
he stayed close enough to grab her if
she stumbled. Rol ing
her eyes, Cass squeezed Rachel’s
arm and left her with a
smile to join Lucas. Both he and
Peter were seated on a
velvet divan, Peter’s long legs
sprawled out while Lucas
leaned forward on his elbows with
restless energy.
Dana landed on Peter’s lap,
wriggling there until he gave
her thigh a light slap to settle her
down and threw a wide
grin in Ben’s direction. Lucas rose to
slip an arm around
Cass’ waist, his hand settling low on
her hip, stroking the
line of it under the skirt. From the
heated look in his eyes,
he was ready to do some of his own
playing here, and
Rachel realized then that their
particular scenario had
probably guaranteed al couples
would enjoy one another to
an even more intense level tonight.
Savannah stroked
Rachel’s brow, gave her a thoughtful
nod before she moved
down the hal way where Matt was
talking to a man who
looked like the club manager, and,
based on the relaxed
body language between them, a
friend. As Savannah got
closer, he held out his hand without
looking in her direction,
knowing she was there, and drew her
in to his side.
“I’m taking you home.”
A sigh shivered out of her as Jon
spoke in her ear, his
voice husky and a little dangerous.
When he turned her to
face him, she was graphical y
reminded that, while she’d
been taken over the moon with her
climax, he’d withheld his
release. The lust pulsed off him in
waves, every line of his
body taut with desire, the blue eyes
intent. The way he
gripped her, the sense of aroused
urgency in his strong
fingers, gave her a delicious fear,
knowing her Master
would be in the mood to take when
he got her home. She
wanted him to do so. She wanted to
meet his every
demand, wanted him to fuck her
savagely, with no care for
her own needs until he was ful y
sated.
He closed his hand on her ass. She
could feel the heat of
his skin, the solid muscle, through the
thin layers of clothing
that separated them. “I’m going to
fuck you for the rest of
the night, long and hard, until you
can’t handle it hard
anymore. Then I’l be gentle, but I’m
going to keep doing it
until your pussy creams upon
demand. And I’m going to do
it in your bed, so you’l get used to
having my scent there,
on everything that’s a part of your
life.”
Her pussy had already dampened at
the first sentence.
She’d barely gotten her breath back
yet, and her body had
been sorely, deliciously used.
However, she wouldn’t tel
Jon she might need that gentleness
sooner than later. Not
because she was avoiding tel ing him
what would hurt her,
as he’d warned her against earlier.
But because she knew
he would know. He was so conscious
of how she was
feeling, how tired or weak she was.
He would know the
limits of her endurance and test them
the way only a Master
could.
“I’d like that.” The words were a
fervent breath of sound
as she looked up at him. He stroked
his finger beneath that
velvet col ar, twisted to increase its
hold. “Master.”
“Good girl,” he said, that blue fire
getting hotter.
She realized she hadn’t real y given
him any indication of
her feelings about the rest of what
had happened tonight.
Though she expected he knew that
too, she glanced over at
the others. “I’d like…I’d like to see
them again.”
“You wil . And not just like this. This
is my family. Your
family.” He spoke the overwhelming
truth that would take
time for her to handle, but in a good
way. “We’l get to
spend lots of time with them. Would
you like that?”
“Yes, very much.”
“Good. Maybe we’l do dinner with
them next Friday. You
haven’t eaten Italian meets Tex-Mex
until Matt cooks for
you. It’s incredible. We’l fly down to
his place on the Gulf for
the weekend if your schedule al ows
for it.”
Normal things and total y ground-
shaking changes in her
life, al mixed together. She could
only nod, lean in to his
body as he moved them into a walk,
shifting his arm to her
waist. “You’re stil trembling,” he
said quietly. “I can carry
you.”
She shook her head. “As much as I
love the way that
feels, I want to feel the trembling. I
want to know you did this
to me.”
“Al right. I’m going to have Lucas
walk out with us so he
can be with you while I tip the
doorman. Then we’l go
home.”
The look he gave her said they’d
barely make it into her
apartment before he’d be inside her
again. He might not
even take time to open the door. He’d
push her into that
partial y hidden alcove, shove up her
skirt and take her
against the paneled wood of her
door, hitting it with a
rhythmic thud. Anyone who came
down the hal would
recognize the sound, know what they
were doing. Then
later, when he took her in her bed, the
silhouette of his
shoulders would be over her in the
darkness, the climax a
rol ing tide that would send her to
dreams…
* * * * *
She felt like pure, sparkling water.
When they emerged
from the club, it was remarkably
early, only about ten
o’clock. The stars were so bright,
even with the lights of the
city against the sky. She had Jon’s col
ar on her throat, and
with that and her sexy dress, coming
out of this kind of club,
it was obvious what she was to those
coming in. Their
knowing glances made her feel…
breathtaking. Powerful
and submissive at once, so aware of
al the male energy
around her, but particularly the
energy of the one with the
doorman. Jon met her gaze, heated,
strong, and she was
glad for Lucas’ brief touch at her
back, guiding her. She
was besotted, enraptured, completely
—
“Rachel?”
It was like hearing an unwelcome
voice in the middle of a
particularly good dream. It didn’t
make sense, made things
disorienting. Though she real y didn’t
want to, she turned
toward it.
Cole had become more avid about
golfing during the
latter part of their marriage, probably
to escape the obvious
fact that their marriage was failing.
She’d been no better,
sometimes actual y relieved to have
more time alone.
She’d learned loneliness was
preferable to being in the
company of someone who obviously
would rather not be
with her.
Earlier, she’d recognized the nearby
steakhouse as one
of Cole’s favorite watering holes.
But the chance of seeing
him had been so remote, too absurd a
coincidence, she
hadn’t considered it. Even though
everything in her life, the
spirituality she embraced, had proven
to her over and over
again that random occurrences often
weren’t. The parent
who unexpectedly came home from
work at lunchtime to
find the teenagers rendezvousing in
their bed, the wife
running into the mistress at the mal …
Fate had thrown him here at this
exact moment, hadn’t it?
To teach her something, tel her
something. But what? The
sick fear returned, her stomach
already knowing what her
mind refused to process.
He stepped over the parking lot
markers, crossed the
short strip of grass between the two
businesses. She
struggled to focus over the roar in her
head. The last time
she’d seen him had been at the
funeral. He must be
working out, because he’d dropped
some weight and
looked pretty fit, but the stress lines
around his eyes and
mouth, the simmering unhappiness he
carried with him, had
not changed. She ached for that,
ached that she’d
contributed to it. She’d been yet
another disappointment in
his life.
He stopped in front of her. Whereas
each time Jon’s
gaze traveled over her, she felt vivid
and alive, purely
sensual, Cole’s raking perusal turned
every exposed inch
of her flesh into something crawling,
putrefied.
A moment ago she’d felt gorgeous, a
creature of pure
sensation. Her stil -damp hair had
brushed her bare neck,
curling blonde strands a sexy frame
for her face. The erotic
dress had held her generous breasts
firmly, the high ride of
the hem and stiletto heels showing off
her toned, slim legs.
Now her hair was a disheveled mess,
the far-too-scanty
dress and tottering heels revealing an
older woman’s
inappropriate
foolishness.
Her
nipples
were
embarrassingly obvious.
As his focus moved over Jon’s col ar
on her throat, she
almost cried out at the pain of having
the significance of
that stripped from her, tossed aside
with no chance of
grabbing it back. It was no different
from a fancy poodle’s
col ar, something ridiculous instead
of beautiful, ful of
personal meaning. Cinderel a had
been discovered by the
stepsisters, and Cole’s gaze was their
rough, cruel hands,
tearing away al the pretty trappings to
leave her a
worthless cinder maid again.
“So I guess you found what you were
looking for.” He
spoke in a flat tone, and she had
enough sense to think he
might be in as much shock as she
was. She managed to
hold her position, but her knees were
wobbling, and not
from sensual overload. She couldn’t
find a single word to
say.
In the awkward silence, his face got
hard, tight. “God,
Rachel. I guess there’s at least one
good thing about Kyle
being dead. He never had to see his
mother like this.”
At one time, she hadn’t realized that