Breaking the Storm (18 page)

His
face was like granite. No emotion showed as his hands clenched and unclenched like he was fighting the need to touch me. Slowly, I twirled around, giving him my back as I started a slow sway of my hips from side-to-side, moving them in a figure eight. Upping the ante, my butt moved in circles as it hovered over his crotch.

I
leaned back, whispering, “You enjoying the show, rock star?”

He
was silent. The pulse along his jaw beating in rapid rhythm. I lowered myself onto his lap, grinding against his body, looking back at him over my shoulder. “I'm sorry. I can't hear over the loud gnashing of teeth. So, is that a yes or no, baby?”

His
fingers trailed along my arm, sending chills up and down my spine. “Now, little submissive, it's not smart to mouth off at the man on the edge of making you get on your knees in front of guests”—he nipped my ear hard—“showing me exactly what that talented, dirty mouth can do.”

I
swallowed hard as my hot sheath clenched with desire at the thought of me on my knees at his mercy with my lips around his manhood. “Just so you know. I'm an avid believer of giving as long as I'm also receiving.”

His
eyes narrowed with desire. “Not an issue, baby. In fact…” His tongue flicked my neck. “I look forward to it.” Wrapping his arms around me, he lifted me onto the stage effortlessly with a hard tap on the ass in parting.

I
spun around to look at him one more time before the music ended. With my head held high, I strutted across the stage, abruptly stopping at the sight of the men giving Knox blatant, challenging glares as they extended their business cards toward me.

I
smiled saucily at them. Knox’s face was thunderous as I paraded, touching and caressing each man’s hand as I took his card. Glancing up at the wide-screen, the winning bid hit $390,000. Not bad for a rookie. I bowed grandly before strutting off the stage without looking back. But I knew without a doubt that Knox was going to make me pay for my little victory lap. And I didn't give a shit. I won this challenge fairly. Game over.

* * *

I was practically giddy strolling down the stairs with a fully intoxicated Harper and Light talking excitedly about my performance. With arms looped through mine, they practically skipped down the stairs.

“You
don't understand how pissed off Knox is for losing the bid to Calum,” Harper said with way too much excitement.

“Who’s
Calum?” I asked.

“The
sexy guy with black hair peppered with gray at the temple. You know, the one who was salivating on your stilettos.”

I
nodded. The tiger-shifter.

Harper
continued. “Whew! I was choking on the testosterone as they battled it out for you.” She enjoyed sticking it to Knox way more than I did.

Grabbing
a glass of champagne from a passing waiter, my mouth twisted sardonically. “Well, that's what happens when you underestimate the power of a sexy ass,” I responded.

“Oh
, he didn't underestimate it. He miscalculated how much he would have to shell out for it,” Light interjected. “That just means more money for their charity foundation.”

“Doms
have been pulling me aside asking all sorts of questions about you.” Harper wagged her eyebrows. “They're very interested in getting to know you better. And Knox is stomping around and glaring at them, trying to scare them away from you.”

“Good.
He's way too cocky,” I responded coolly as my pulse raced with excitement.

“I'm
surprised he didn't whip out his penis and mark her as his,” Light said.

“I'm
not his,” I said with way too much bravado.

Harper
smirked. “Uh-huh. Light and I have bets on how long it'll take before you're up in his bedroom assuming the position.” She laughed, leaning forward with her ass poking out. Her laughter suddenly died in her throat. “Oh shit! Knox is heading over here, and he looks like he's about to snap-crackle-pop. Light, let's get out of here before he starts snarling at us.”

Light
kissed me on the cheek before whispering, “Have fun, darling.” They weaved their way through the crowd, giggling like two teenagers.

“Stormy
Credence?” a nasally voice asked from behind me. I looked over my shoulder to see a short, frail-looking man looking at me.

“Yes?”
I looked at him, puzzled.

He
adjusted his black wire-rimmed glasses. “I'm Jeff Hunter, a reporter working on a story about the death of Celina Rouse. I believe she's your employee.”

“I
have nothing to add to your story, Mr. Hunter. As far as I'm concerned, this matter should be left up to the police to solve.” I smiled coldly. “Now if you will excuse me.” I went to turn away when his words stopped me cold.

“I
know all about your company and its clientele, Ms. Credence.” His beady black eyes narrowed. “Celebrity clients looking for escorts to hire.” He leered at my clothes. “Seems like it's a pretty lucrative business.”

“If
you print anything of the sort, I’ll have my lawyer crawling up your ass like a proctologist,” I responded without flinching.

Knox
walked up with two burly bodyguards. “Trouble?”

“None
at all.” I arched a brow. “I believe Mr. Hunter is leaving.”

The
reporter stepped back with eyes darting toward the exit as the bodyguards towered over him menacingly. “Yes, I was.” He held out his business card to me. “You really should take it, Ms. Credence.”

I
snatched it from his fingers before he scampered away. Knox nodded toward the bodyguards. “Make sure he gets off the property.”

“Got
it,” they said in unison before moving away.

“Sleazy
reporter,” Knox spat with hatred.

“You
know him?” I asked shakily.

“Yep.
He's a freelance reporter who writes seedy bullshit for celebrity gossip rags.” His eyes narrowed. “Was he asking questions about me?”

I
breathed out shakily. “No. One of my escorts was killed. And for some reason, he's on the trail of the story.” My mind raced with all of the possibilities.
Shit! I don't need this right now.
“It's all right. The police are still working the case. The sensationalism will die down,” I said with more confidence than I felt. I saw the determination in the reporter's eyes. He had something up his sleeve and it wasn't good.

“If
you need me to help, just let me know. I have some contacts that can make him disappear.” Knox's voice was steely.

I
touched his elbow. “I will.” I looked around at the thinning crowd. “I'm going to go up. I'm a little tired. See you upstairs.”

Knox
nodded toward Ryker who was towering over Light as she pointed in his face with jerky motions before stomping away. “I need to talk to Ryker for a minute. Then I'll be up.” He kissed me hard on the lips and walked away.

I
spun on my heels, practically running up the stairs. By the time I got to the suite, I was panting and pacing the floors, looking for my cell. Dialing Light's number, I was relieved when she answered. “Light?”

“Storm?
What's wrong? I thought you would be knee deep into penis by now.”

“There's
trouble. The reporter was here snooping.”

“I
know.” She sighed heavily. “I saw the guards throw him out on his ass. The little snoop snuck in here.”

Sitting
on the bed, I pulled off my shoes and wiggled my toes. “I don't have a good feeling about this.”

Knox
walked in, closing the door with a resounding click.

“Light,
let's talk in the morning, okay?”

“Okay,
talk to you tomorrow.” Light clicked off.

Not
one word passed between us as I gazed up at him, trying to keep my breathing steady. “So how did it feel to be the biggest loser, rock star?”

He
shrugged. “I didn’t lose.”

I
rolled my eyes. “You lost the bid to Calum.”

He
growled. “I always win. He realized it's just not smart to fuck with the top dog." He crossed his arms with his eyes narrowed. “Now, stop stalling.” Instantly, I knew exactly what he wanted… and I wanted it just as much. Standing without hesitation, I slowly reached for my zipper.

“Stop!”
he barked. “I've been waiting a long time for this moment. And if you think you're going to rush through this… you can fucking forget it.” His eyes hardened. “I've seen how good you are at swaying that ass for strangers. Now it's just you and me, baby, and this better be the greatest show on earth. Dress off slowly.” His eyes raked over me before he twirled his finger, a silent demand for me to turn.

I
wasn't a shrinking violet, and sex and seduction were nothing new to me. If he wanted a show, then he was going to get it and lots more. I spun around slowly with my back toward him. Looking back over my shoulder, I unzipped my gown as slowly as possible. Keeping it clutched against my breasts, I turned with a wicked expression on my face. In one smooth motion, I removed my hands from my breasts, wiggling my body sexily until the gown slithered to the floor. Lifting my breasts in both hands, I kneaded my nipples very slowly.

The
weight of his gaze filled the room with heavy sensuality. I knew immediately that he’d put me through the paces, taking me to a place that I've never been before.

“Was
that good enough?” I asked with a husky voice.

His
eyes were filled with raw hunger. “The best show on earth. Now, let's talk hard limits.”

I
knew enough about the BDSM world to know that these were negotiations. A verbal contract between us binding our play—my limits, his desires, and our needs. “No anal,” I responded swiftly.

“Have
you ever tried it, sweetness?” His brow arched. “Believe me, I will make it worth your time.” His voice held amusement.

I
never had the chance to see him butt-ass naked, but I remembered enough about his size from the many nights of groping sessions after his shows. He was big and there was no way in hell I was going let that big thing back there… at least not yet.

“No,
I haven't. And I'm not going there.”

He
quirked a brow. “But that ass of yours is so sexy.”

“Not
on the table… tonight. My other hard limit is no other women.”

He
smiled, his eyes glittering. “Harper will be so disappointed. Go on.” Standing like a deer in headlights, I watched Knox remove his cufflinks and tie with eyes locked on me.

I
scowled. “And no public scenes between us.”

“Well
, that puts a kink in my kinky plans.”

My
eyes widened when he removed his crisp, white shirt, tossing it over the chair. I licked my parched lips as my eyes traced the large grey-and-black tattoo of wings that spanned across his upper chest from shoulder to shoulder. His tattooed forearms flexed, showing off the intricate details of wolves chasing each other. Lightning fast, he walked over to me, trapping my face between his hands. “Now let's talk safe words. I respond to red, green, and yellow. But keep in mind that they are not to be used casually.”

I
gulped. “Understood.” He brushed his lips over mine, nipping brutally. My hands inched up to his shoulders, digging in desperately.

“Hands
by your sides, Storm.” His tone was sharp.

“
Excuse me?” My mouth dropped open with shock. I practically panted when he forced my hands by my sides.

He
raised a mocking eyebrow. “Turn and face the wall.”

Surprisingly
, I didn’t hesitate at his command. Whirling around, I shivered as he ran a finger over the tattoo of a naked woman riding a broom on my lower back. “Interesting. Tattoos? Still a fucking rebel under that wall of steel.” His finger trailed up and across the black rune tattoo between my shoulder blades.

I
started to respond. “It means…”

He
interrupted me sharply. “Fire. The end of darkness in your life.” I inhaled sharply. No one had ever understood the meaning of the symbol before. He pressed a lingering kiss against it. “Is that what you’re looking for, Storm? A man to end the darkness?” The intimacy of his low tone was like a tug on my nipples. I wanted to scream yes, but I remained silent, whimpering when he nipped the slope of my shoulder hard.

“Safe
word?” he asked sharply.

I
cleared my throat before responding. “Green.”

He
grabbed the back of my head, softly turning me to face him. His eyes lingered on my breasts, making them feel swollen and heavy. He traced a finger between them. “Good girl,” he said before reaching out to cup my breast. His mouth covered mine and I swallowed a moan as his fingers plucked at my beaded nipple. Pinching lightly, he rolled it firmly between his thumb and forefinger. Jolts of hot, piercing desire burned in my core. His touch smoldered with possession and feral hunger—a touch that I both ached for and feared.