Bound to Please (18 page)

If she were bound before him, she would see the way the muscles in his shoulders moved as he slowly brought his fist down to the base of his erection. She would see the way his hips tilted forward as he stroked himself, up and down. She would see him tugging at his left nipple piercing until he grimaced. Helpless, she would watch as he masturbated before her. Her eyes, big, dark, and wanting.

His rhythm became faster. His breath hitched and he groaned, imagined her touching the vibrator to herself, the way she’d buck against the little device. He bent his knees slightly, his legs going tense as he stroked himself faster and harder. In the mirror he watched his hand’s even rhythm.

He could recall precisely what it felt like to be inside Ruby, fucking her. So warm… and tight. He could almost feel the inside of her clenching around him as she climaxed. He remembered the way her inner walls had spasmed around his cock. He jerked one last time against his hand, grunting as everything in him tensed in one all-consuming moment, frozen. He felt his own hot cum hit him in the chest when he exploded.

Panting, he bent over and rested his elbows on the bathroom counter. When he caught his breath he looked up at his reflection above the sink and shook his head.
Idiot
. He’d hoped masturbating would clear his mind and release him a little from the hold Ruby had over him. But his forehead still looked creased and tense.

In the sink, soap bubbles popped softly. The light perfume managed to accost his senses, making his balls go tight once more.

Masturbating hadn’t helped. He wanted her now, more than ever.

Chapter
Fifteen

T
his is nice.” Yvette settled into the plush seat of the private jet and sipped her orange juice. “It almost makes it worth getting up at the ass crack of dawn to get back to S.F.”

Next to her, Jake gazed around the elegant beige interior. “I guess we’re good enough for a private jet, just not good enough to choose the time we fly. Whatever. It’s better than coach.”

The sun hadn’t yet risen, and Mark flipped on the overhead light in order to see the notebook he was scribbling in. So close. He had the lyrics, but the melody was evading him, just out of reach. He wanted to nail it, and he wanted to do it now. For some reason it seemed important that this song make it onto this record.

“What are you working on, pet?” Yvette asked. “You’ve been totally distracted all morning.”

He glanced across the aisle. “Just a new song.”

“Give us a taste, brother,” Jake said, picking up his ever-present drumsticks. “Give me a beat.”

“Nah, it’s not finished yet.”

“Come on, Mark.” Yvette tapped his knee with the tip of her pointy black boot. “Maybe we can help.”

“Seriously, I just want to work it out first.” Keeping his head down, hoping they’d go away, he didn’t notice Yvette leaning across the aisle.

“Does that say ‘
Ruby
’?”

“Fuck. Can’t you just let me finish this?”

Jake gave a low whistle. “Dude. Have you ever written a love song before? I don’t think so.”

“No shit. He’s too busy writing about going insane and things melting and other
heavy shit
.” Yvette sipped the orange juice, and Mark was starting to wonder if the drink was actually a mimosa.

He turned back to his notebook. “It’s not a love song, not really.”

“If it’s about a woman, it’s gotta be,” Jake said.

“All I know is that this is the first time I’ve seen you so taken with a lass. Other than me, of course.” Her voice was casual, but Mark heard the bite behind it.

He was too tired to argue. “I admit it. I like her. But she’s made it obvious it’s a temporary thing, which is cool with me.”

“I’m sure it is.” Yvette leaned forward, bracing her elbows on her knees. “Why do you think our Ruby is so intent on keeping things casual?”

Mark glanced up and when he spoke, his voice sounded tense. “I’m not exactly relationship material. She doesn’t want to get hurt. The usual.”

“Maybe, but it’s not usually the girl making that decision.” Yvette frowned and stared silently at him, the deep whir of the jet’s engines humming through the cabin. Then she leaned back, sipped her drink. “And how does our stallion feel about this filly bucking him out of the corral?”

He tapped his pencil on the notebook. “We leave in what? Two weeks? I’ll just see how it plays out, I guess. I mean, she’s just a girl.” He tried to keep his voice casual, but there was an ache in his heart even he couldn’t ignore.

“Just a girl,” she repeated.

“You’re right, Yvette,” Mark said. “The last thing we need is a distraction like this, not now.”

“Like what?” Jake asked. “It’s just a girl. Remember?”

He looked up. “What do you mean?”

“If she’s just a girl, it’s not a big deal. Shouldn’t affect the music.” But Jake’s raised brow indicated that he was waiting for Mark to argue.

“Would you two stop making so much out of this?”

Jake threw up his hands. “Dude. We’re not.”

“Good,” he said, turning back to his notebook. For some reason he thought if he could just finish this song, he could get both the music and Ruby out of his system. As it was, both were frustrating pieces he couldn’t quite work out.

The doorbell woke Ruby up. “What the hell?” she muttered, glancing at the clock. It was 8:30 a.m.; who would be ringing her doorbell this early on a Sunday?

She wrapped her robe around her T-shirt, slipped into her fuzzy pink slippers, and padded to the door. “This better be good,” she said into the call box.

“I usually am.”

“Mark?” She jerked back as if the box were on fire. Then, she took a deep breath and pushed the call button again. “What are you doing here? I thought you were in L.A.”

“I came to finish what I started last night. If you’re willing to behave, that is.”

Instantly, her body came to life. After they’d hung up last night, she’d been too annoyed to finish herself off. Instead she’d gone to bed frustrated and had slept fitfully, dreaming about sex. And with each dream she’d woken just before climaxing.

And now the source of all that frustration wanted to come up and complete the job?

“I can’t believe you didn’t call back last night.”

“I told you. It hurt me as much as it hurt you. Now, let me up.”

“You are such a…”

“Sexy beast?”

“I was thinking asshat,” she said and pushed the button, opening up. Again. Too bad he was such an irresistible asshat.

She left the door open so he could let himself into her flat. She refused to greet him until she’d brushed her teeth, gone to the bathroom, and combed her hair. When she was finished, she found him in her kitchen, looking through the cupboards.

“Coffee filters?” he said as he shut a drawer.

“Make yourself at home.” She pulled a box off a shelf and handed it to him. “Here.”

He grunted a thank-you.

She said, “It’s eight-thirty.”

“I know. Why do you think I need coffee so badly?”

She tightened the belt of her robe and leaned her hip against the counter. “Tell me about L.A. About this private party.”

He put a filter in the coffeepot and, from the container on her counter, poured a huge pile of her best French roast directly into the cone. “It was just a show. The usual.”

“That’s all? I’m an event planner, remember? I live for this stuff!”

“Do you? You love your job that much?”

“Most of the time. So tell me what it was like.”

He glanced up. “I dunno. It was a big party for some movie studio. Dinner and champagne. Fancy.”

“So,” she said. Getting information out of him was like pulling teeth. “What songs did you play?”

“The usual.”

After a minute she realized that was all he was going to say about the party. She pulled two mugs from a cabinet. “Well. Thanks for last night,” she said sarcastically.

He gave her that lopsided grin, the one responsible for the flutters in her belly. “Maybe I was too harsh. But I’m very proud of you for not masturbating without me allowing it.”

Glaring, she put her hands on her hips. “What makes you think I didn’t?”

“Oh, baby. You’re wound so tight I’m waiting for your head to explode. I know you didn’t get yourself off. But, I think all that waiting has taught you a valuable lesson. Now, you deserve a reward for your good behavior.”

“Are you serious? You just show up here on a Sunday morning and expect me to get on my knees and thank you?”

He winked. “You don’t have to thank me, but I’d love to see you on your knees.”

“You’re… you’re…” She threw up her hands. “Words fail me.”

Calmly, he filled both mugs with steaming black coffee. “Am I right? Did you finish, Ruby?”

She crossed her arms in front of her chest and said, “Finish what?” But she knew what he was talking about.

He looked at her, and his eyes were serious despite his nonchalant tone, his casual stance. “Yourself. Did you hang up and masturbate? Did you climax without me?”

“No.” She didn’t add that without him, she hadn’t even wanted to try.

He stepped closer until she was backed up against the counter. Everything about him was slow, unhurried, a total contrast to the sharp edginess coursing through her body.

“I did,” he said. “And I thought about you the entire time.”

Desire raged through her as she pictured him stroking himself, getting off. Thinking of her.

And it somehow made her defiant. “I have more willpower than you.”

“Is that so?” he said, even closer now, and then he placed a hot kiss at that place just under her ear, that spot that made her close her eyes and sigh when she felt the tip of his tongue on her skin. “So now, if I said I wanted to take you and lay you down on your kitchen table and do all kinds of naughty things to you, you would say no?”

“Yes.” He was close enough that the heat from his body mixed with her own, his long arms enclosing her as he leaned on the counter. She could just feel his cock, hard through the material of her T-shirt, robe, and his jeans. “Yes,” she whispered. “I could definitely say no.”

“Mmm-hmm,” he murmured as he ran his lips down her neck, in front of her throat. “You could. But will you?”

Her legs were trembling now, and her eyelids were drifting shut. “Why do you do this to me?” she asked.

“I wish I knew.” He pressed against her, his body hot and hard against hers.

She reached under his T-shirt and felt the muscles of his abdomen clench as she ran her hand over his warm skin. His jeans were slung low on his hips, and she felt his stomach, where he had just the tiniest amount of hair below his belly button. Then she ran her hands up, across the smooth ridges of his rib cage until she got to his nipple, gently scraping a silver hoop with her fingertip.

“Did it hurt? When you had them pierced?”

“Not especially.”

“You’re so tough, then?”

“I can handle pain.”

Kissing him, she gave the ring a gentle pull. He tensed and his cock jumped against her. Something in his kiss turned harsher as she played with his nipple ring, and she pushed at him, tugging and stroking until he pulled back and she saw that his eyes were very dark, almost black.

“Where are the things I sent you?” he asked, his voice husky.

“Over there.” She nodded to the corner, to the box that was now closed up tight. Next to it she saw a leather case that hadn’t been there before.

“Take off your clothes.”

She nodded; wasn’t she supposed to be mad? Didn’t matter. He’d broken that barrier with an easy smile. Yeah, she was that lost in him. Now, her fingers trembled as she untied her belt, slid off her bathrobe. She watched him move to rummage around in the box. His T-shirt rode up when he bent over, exposing the smooth skin at the base of his spine. He was such a combination of lean elegance and dominant male. It unnerved her.

Standing, he turned with two cuffs and the nylon tethers in his hands. He looked her over. “T-shirt, panties. Take them off.”

She pulled the shirt over her head and his gaze dropped to her panties. As he watched, she pulled them down her legs.

“Beautiful.” He placed the items on the table, then came to her. “So beautiful, my Ruby.” Then he picked her up and carried her across the kitchen to place her on the table. Kissing her, he eased her down until she was flat on her back. The table was not large, and she bent her knees and let her legs hang over the edge.

“Mark… ?”

He took her left leg in his hands and placed a kiss on her ankle. “Just let go, Ruby.”

He had rope; it must have been in the case he’d brought. Quickly, he tied her left calf to one of the table legs, wrapping the rope from her ankle to just under her knee, where he finished with a knot. He repeated the process with her right calf.

She hadn’t felt rope on her body since Ash, but he’d never done anything so quickly, so practically. Ruby found she loved the swiftness of how Mark moved. For once, she felt as if she was more important than the rope itself, and the feeling made her float even higher.

Spreading her arms as wide as her legs, he used the restraints and tethers to bind her wrists to the table. She caught glimpses of him as he moved; the sharp line of his jaw, the mole at the base of his neck. He was beautiful, but somehow his dominance was what she noticed. She noticed his utter control.

And then she was stretched open, her legs and her arms bound to the four corners of the table. Open for him, totally.

He stood back, looked her over. “You know what? I just realized I haven’t had breakfast.”

She twisted her head toward him. “P-pardon me?”

He grinned wickedly and then she heard the door to her refrigerator open, the clamor of him pulling items out of it.

“Mark? What are you doing?” Her body was shaking from waiting and wanting.

Back in her line of vision, he shook his head. “Only vanilla ice cream? That’s kind of ironic.” He slid a spoonful of Ben & Jerry’s into his mouth, then scooped up some more.

“Is this your idea of torture? Because I’m getting ready to kill you.”