Dark Attraction: The Corde Noire Series (11 page)

He removed his hand and what happened next shocked her. He slapped her folds, making her flinch. It wasn’t painful; actually, it was highly arousing, sending jolts of electricity up her spine. He waited a few seconds and did it again, but this time she didn’t move, she moaned.

One more slap made her body curl with need. Her grip on the arm of the sofa tightened as her need to climax took over her thoughts. He shifted beneath her, and as she waited for another delightful slap to her crotch, something tapped against her butt. The wooden spoon?

“Did that hurt?”

“No,” she told him.

The next slap of the spoon was even harder, leaving a slight sting.

“What about that?”

“It didn’t hurt.”

“You’re doing very well.”

The next slap was even harder, the sting lasted longer, but after the sting vanished an intense burning arose in her loins.

“And that?”

She raised her butt slightly in the air. “Again.”

This time, he meant business and the loud slap resounded about the living room. Tears filled her eyes, but as the pain subsided, the pleasure took over.

Doug’s fingers went to her folds. “You like this.”

“Yes,” she admitted, almost ashamed. “It hurts at first, but then ….”

“Now you understand.”

Maybe she did understand. If he knew this was arousing her, he must be getting aroused, too.

“I want to know what you do when you have reached your limit,” he probed. “Do you cry out, cry tears, scream, kick, or get very quiet?”

She dug her fingernails into the sofa arm, waiting for the next slap, but it never came. Doug’s hand tenderly rubbed her behind, but it was covered with something soft. The fur glove?
Damn, that feels better than the spanking
.

“I think I cry out … I’m not sure.” She was too distracted by the glove rubbing circles on her butt to think clearly about the question.    

“All right. Let’s see what you think of this.”

The anticipation was killing her, exciting her almost as much as his hand on her ass. The crack that came down on her butt was loud and more painful than the spoon.

“Oww,” she cried out, kicking up her legs. She figured that had to be the brush handle.

“So you cry out. What else?” He hit her again, harder.

The pain in her butt this time was not pleasurable. She wanted to call out the safe word, but also didn’t want him to think she was weak. Instead, she gripped the sofa even tighter.

The next slap stung like crazy, and Sam knew she didn’t want to go on. “Stop … cat, cat,” she called out.

“You get quiet and then you cry out. I’ll remember that for next time.” He rubbed her behind again with the glove.

“Next time?” she echoed. “I don’t want a next time.”

“Just remember to use the safe word and I will stop.”

She eased down against him as he caressed her rear with his bare hand. “Yes, Sir.”

He patted her butt. “See, you’re getting the hang of this. So what did you like best, the spoon, the brush, or my hand?”

“Your hand,” she quickly replied. “When you hit me, between my legs … it ….” She wasn’t sure how to describe it.

“Did it please you?”

“Yes,” she whispered.

“Open your legs wider for me.”

Excited about the prospect of another spanking, Sam opened her legs wide apart, desperate for more.

The first slap rocked her forward, and she almost cried out when his fingers hit her clit. The next slap came right after the first, followed by another. She was curling up, fighting the pull of the intense orgasm building in her loins. The next slap was even harder, and she groaned as her skin vibrated.

She waited, eager for the next slap to send her over the edge. Instead, Doug slipped his fingers into her.

“You’re ready to come, aren’t you?” He pulled out his fingers. “Now tell me what I want to know.”

“What?”

“What sexual experiences have you had?”

“Doug, please—”

“It’s Sir.”

Another slap sent her hurtling forward. It didn’t trigger her climax but brought her tantalizingly close. She was throbbing, aching for release.

“I’m going to get it out of you, Sam. I promise.”

She tried to get up from his lap, but he held her down. Then a hard sting rocketed across her behind. Sam screeched and wriggled beneath him.

“Tell me what I want to know.”

“Cat,” she shouted. “Cat, damn you, cat.”

Another loud crack echoed through the living room. Tears filled her eyes.

“What are you so afraid to tell me?”

Tears were streaming down her cheeks. They weren’t tears of pain, but frustration. “No, I won’t tell you. I won’t.”

The next slap wasn’t on her butt, but right into her folds. The ecstasy created by the cupping of his hand brought her even closer to orgasm, but it wasn’t enough to make her come. He knew it, and she sensed he would go on torturing her until she gave in.

“I can do this all night, Sam.”

She wiggled on his lap but he held her down, and then the flat of the brush once again came down on her ass.

“Damn it, Doug, stop it.”

“Tell me and I will stop.”

“I can’t,” she sobbed. “I can’t tell you. You’ll hate me after, and I … I couldn’t live with that.”

His hands grasped her hips and flipped her around. He lifted her in front of him, holding her up. “What are you talking about? I could never hate you for anything you’ve done.”

She wiped her hand over her tear-stained cheek. “Yes, you could. You would hate me just like my father hated me. You would think I was a whore and toss me aside, just like he did.”

His eyes took on a look of complete dismay. “Sam, what happened to you? I promise I will never think of you as anything less than the amazing woman you are. Nothing will ever change that.”   

She studied his countenance through her tears. Maybe, just maybe he meant those words. He wasn’t like her father. If anything, Sam knew he was a better man.

“When I was in college … I was dating this guy.” She lowered her eyes. “I thought it was special. Like he would be my first, you know? One night when he asked me to a fraternity party … I was so excited that he wanted to introduce me to his friends.” She took a deep breath, calming a little. “Everyone was drinking, and he wanted me to drink. So I did, to please him.” She wiped her hand over her mouth, feeling sick to her stomach. “I woke up the next morning in his bed, naked and very hung over. I don’t know if we did or didn’t have sex. When I went to my father and told him what happened … he called me a whore and kicked me out.” 

Doug’s arms flew around her. “Why didn’t you tell me this?” He kissed her cheek and then held her back. “Did you ever go to the police?”

“No. After my father’s reaction, I was too scared to tell anyone. I haven’t told anyone, not until a few days ago when Brenda and Piper made me talk about it.” She nodded to him. “And now you know.”      

He wiped a few strands of hair from her face. “So you’re not sure if you’re a virgin or not, is that it?”

She shrugged. “I never stuck around to ask if anything happened. I was so mortified I never talked to him again.”

Doug held her close. “Is that your big secret?”

Well, not the big one.
She toyed with the idea of telling him everything.
Better not.

He lifted her in his arms.

“Where are we going?” she asked, holding on to him.

“It’s time for your reward.”

Inside her bedroom, he set her down on the bed. She watched in amazement as he nestled in next to her, wrapping her in his strong arms. Sam wanted to purr like a satisfied cat. It was everything she had ever wanted. But when he started kissing her neck, gliding his hands over her skin, she thought she had died and gone to heaven. She would have agreed to let him do anything to her at that point, just to know the bliss of being his.

“When you do as I ask, the rewards will be quite pleasurable.” His kisses traveled down her stomach.

“More pleasurable than this?”

He knelt between her knees. “Much more, baby.” He lowered his head between her legs.

Sam rocked back against the bed when he first tasted her.

“Oh my God,” came from her lips.

When he licked his tongue across her clit, she arched from the bed. Sam had never felt anything like that. It was so intimate to have a man touching her in that way. She should have been embarrassed, but her body was humming with so much pleasure that all her insecurities were silenced. Sam realized what all the fuss was about, and why Piper and Brenda had raved about receiving oral sex.

Her insides twisted tighter as he slowly worked his tongue in circles around her nub. When the orgasm exploded, undulating waves of satisfaction rolled through her. As the fire sweeping over her hit her chest, she rocked her head back and screamed.

She was utterly spent when he nestled beside her. He pulled her close and kissed the side of her neck.

“That’s your reward for when you tell me the truth.”

She turned around in his arms, facing him. Sam rubbed her hand up and down his smooth chest, taking a moment to appreciate the hard muscles beneath her hand. “What about your secrets? Now that you know mine … fair is fair.”

He combed his hand through her hair. “I don’t know all your secrets, Sam. You’re still keeping something from me. I can feel it.”

“You know that I’ve never had sex before … that I can remember. What else do you need to know?”

She thought he would like hearing that, but the way he furrowed his brow made her skeptical.

Tucking her head into the curve of his neck, he sighed. “When you’re ready, you’ll tell me your other secrets. We’ll work up to it. For now, I just want you to be comfortable with me.”

“I am comfortable,” she whispered against him. “More comfortable than I’ve ever been with anyone.”    

The way his hand kept running through her hair, along with the steady beat of his heart against her cheek, was making Sam drowsy. Before she knew it, she was fast asleep.

The morning sun was shining through her bedroom window when Sam was awakened by the blaring of her alarm. She groaned as the beautiful dream she was having faded from view. She was being held by Doug, cradled against him, and he was singing to her. She wanted to stay like that with him forever, but when her visions were replaced with images from their previous night together, Sam reached out to the spot on the bed where Doug had been.

He was gone. Sitting up, Sam found she had been covered with her gray comforter. Stretching as her limbs slowly came back to life, she remembered all the things he had done to her the night before.

Still reveling in the afterglow of her dream, she made a resolution. Whatever Doug wanted to do to her, she would let him. If he could please her like that, then anything he did would be worth it. Never before had a man made her feel so complete. Even Phil had not given her such satisfaction. The spectacled man with the dimpled cheeks had never come close to the devastation of Doug’s kisses. Sam realized such passion could be more uplifting than the best Sunday morning sermon, more compelling than the raciest romance novel, and more delectable than the sweetest chocolate ice cream.

“Or even mashed potatoes.” Sam wiped her hand over her chest where Doug had smeared the sticky dish.

But you haven’t told him everything, Sam,
the disparaging voice in her head argued.

As the reality of her life slowly crept back, Sam angrily tossed aside the heavy comforter and sat up in bed.

“He doesn’t need to know about that. I can keep it from him.”

When he finds out, he’ll run,
the voice returned.
Just like Phil did.

Shutting out the voice, she checked her cell phone. It was time to get to work. Mustering up her energy, she trudged to her bathroom. She would think about telling Doug another day.

*     *     *

Dressed in her scrubs, she walked into the kitchen. Doug had already set her coffeemaker, and a fresh pot was waiting for her. There were no dishes in the sink, and all the food he had prepared the night before had been neatly put away in her fridge. Smiling at his kindness, Sam decided she would bring him a plate of food when she came home from work.

“Maybe he will give me another lesson.” 

Pouring some coffee in a go-cup, she grabbed her backpack from the floor by the sofa and set out for the door. Sam almost skipped to the elevator. The happiness in her heart seemed to be helping her feet float on air along the way. 

“Have you considered my offer?” a dark voice intruded as soon as she stepped into the elevator.

“Go away, Nathan.”

He materialized before her, wearing the same gray suit. “I could make it worth your while.”

She squeezed her go-cup. “How? You’re dead. Short of hounding me in the elevator every day I live in your building, I don’t see what else you can do.”

“Your Doug is hiding a secret, dear girl.”

Sam froze. “What are you talking about?”

“You’ll find out soon enough.”

“What are you after, Nathan?”

“Find me, Sam. Find me and end the speculation, so people can know the truth.”

She glared at the ghost, waiting for more. “Care to give me a hint where you are?”

He slowly faded from view. “Just find me. Find me before it’s too late.”

A cool breeze rushed past her and then he was gone.

She blew out a long breath. “I really don’t need this shit in my life right now.”

*     *     *

Sam looked for Piper when she arrived in the ICU unit that morning and was crestfallen when she was told her friend had the day off. She wanted to share what had happened with Doug and her breakthrough.

Resolved to face the busy day ahead, Sam was about to go to her assigned patient rooms when her supervisor stopped in front of her.

“Sam, you got a minute?”

Jill Acrebee, the unit director, was the person who had encouraged Sam to stay on after her travel contract was up. The statuesque blonde had played basketball for LSU and was friendly with her staff and many of the doctors who frequented the unit. With a warm smile, sharp wit, and boisterous personality, Jill had always been a mentor for Sam.

“I wanted to ask you how the private duty was going.”

Jill guided Sam away from the nurses’ station. Wearing a pretty pale yellow pantsuit with a flowery blouse and two-inch heels, Sam felt positively minuscule next to her boss.

“What private duty?”  

Jill tossed her head to the side. “A few weeks back that gorgeous son of the patient you were caring for came to me asking for your contact information. He wanted to hire you to do private duty for his mother. The stroke patient you took care of … I don’t remember her name.”

Sam’s mind drew a blank. “I’ve taken care of quite a few stroke patients lately.”

“This one was special, a hospital VIP. Her son got permission from Larry Dalgreen, our administrator, to get your number and address. He seemed real interested in getting hold of you.”

“What’s his name?”

“Sebastian Dane. His family owns Dane Shipping. You know, that big glass building on Poydras Avenue with Dane across the top. That’s his.” 

Now Sam’s mind was spinning. “I’ve never been contacted by a Sebastian Dane, Jill. Are you sure he wanted me?”

Jill’s raucous laugh made several of the ICU staff turn their way. “Of course it was you.” Jill tucked her hand on her hip. “You don’t remember him, Sam? He was something to look at.”

Sam remembered Piper mentioning the son of a patient and how good-looking he was. She wondered if it could be the same guy. “What did this Sebastian Dane look like?”

Jill shook her head. “Oh my God. Tall, great ass, nice body that I could see beneath his suits. Dark-haired, with these hypnotic blue eyes. You know, the drop dead gorgeous type.”

A funny sense of disaster tweaked Sam’s stomach. “You said his name was Sebastian Dane?”

Jill nodded. “He’s all over the Internet, sweetie. Check him out. Maybe his picture will jog your memory.”

“And he said he was going to contact me?” Sam went on, stunned by the information.

“Yep.” Jill tossed up her large hand. “Maybe he got some agency to pick it up. God knows, he could afford to buy an agency if he wanted to.” She motioned to the unit. “Better get to your rooms. Emily is waiting for you.” 

Sam glanced over at her night shift coworker, standing by one of the patient rooms and eyeing the clock above the nurses’ station. Giving her boss a quick nod, Sam set out across the unit. The uncomfortable twinge in her stomach, however, didn’t go away. Sam hoped the worrisome pain wasn’t a sign of things to come.

*     *     *

It wasn’t until lunch that Sam got the opportunity to pull up Sebastian Dane on her cell phone. In the nurses’ lounge, she waited for the Google page to open. The stitch in her stomach gnawed at her while reading through the numerous links related to the man.

The first article she opened was about Mr. Dane taking part in a local charity event for the New Orleans World War II Museum. The picture of him with other attendees was blurry and hard to see on her phone. She went to his profile page on LinkedIn, scanned through the details about his company—the multi-millions his company generated in shipping every year—and searched the page for his picture. What she found was the logo of the company. Getting frustrated, she scrolled down the Google search engine page to another article about his attending yet another charity event hosted by Nathan Cole.

Sam’s hands paused before she opened the link. So Sebastian Dane knew Nathan Cole? She decided the coincidence meant nothing.

Nevertheless, when the picture on the page opened, Sam almost dropped her phone. Standing next to Nathan Cole was her Doug Morgan.

“What the fuck?”

The caption beneath the picture read, “Local businessman Nathan Cole with Dane Shipping owner Sebastian Dane.”

Sam stared at the picture, fuming.

“Sam, I need you,” a nurse called, popping her head into the lounge.

Tucking her phone back into her tunic pocket, Sam vowed to head to Doug’s after work for some answers. 

“Somebody has got a lot of explaining to do,” she muttered under her breath while heading out the lounge door. “And after I get my explanation, I’m gonna kill him.”

*     *     *

Parking her old Honda in the designated lot across the street from her apartment building, Sam dashed to the wide glass doors. Ignoring the guard, Mike, who was seated at his desk just inside the doors, Sam practically jogged across the silver lobby to the elevators.

“You might want to take the stairs, Ms. Woods,” Mike called to her. “The movers are holding up the elevator.”

She spun around and faced the former bouncer with biceps the size of bulldozers. “What movers?”

“The guy on four, next to you. He moved out today.” Mike thumbed the fancy silver parquet ceiling of the lobby. “Movers showed up this morning after eight. Said they were told by the guy to pack up everything.”

The irritation Sam had been holding in all day siphoned out of her like air from a slashed tire. “Doug Morgan is moving out?”

Mike shrugged his behemoth shoulders. “Already moved out. The movers are finishing up with the last of his stuff.”

“Did they say why he was moving out?”

Mike’s heavily ridged brow crinkled. “No. Nobody ever tells me nothin’.” 

Possessed by desperation, Sam headed to the stairs on the right of the elevator doors. Bolting up the steps, she kept thinking that it couldn’t be true. Doug couldn’t be leaving her, not after what she had shared with him.

When she came barreling out the fourth-floor exit from the stairwell, she was alarmed by the activity in her hallway. Three beefy men in gray overalls with Al’s Moving stitched in red on their chests were standing by the elevator, loading boxes into it. Without hesitation, she stormed up to the men.

“Are those Doug Morgan’s things?”

A man with deep-set brown eyes and a saggy jowl glanced up at her. “Morgan, yeah. We were just finishing up, miss.”

“Where are you taking his things? What’s his forwarding address?” she questioned, glancing back at his closed apartment door.

The older gentleman eyed his two coworkers. “Ah, company policy. We can’t give out that information.”

Sam was not deterred. “Please. He … never told me he was moving out.” She pointed at her apartment door. “I’m his neighbor.”

The older gentleman gave her an apologetic smile. “I wish I could help, but our boss is kind of a stickler for privacy.” He gave her an encouraging nod of the head. “Perhaps your super might have his address. He could probably give it to you.”

The other two men finished loading the last of the boxes. “We got to go, Mel,” a burly bald man called from inside the elevator.

The kind man turned away and joined his coworkers in the elevator. As the silver doors closed, Sam’s hope for any possible explanation on who Doug was faded away.

Standing in the hallway, her heart sank.

While betrayal, anger, and a whole lot of sadness pervaded every inch of her being, Sam dragged her body to her front door. She struggled to remove her keys from her backpack, and as she tried to fit her key into her lock, a geyser of emotion rose in her chest, taking away her breath and blurring her vision.

Fighting against her tears, she hurried inside her apartment and slammed her door. Sam was about to set the dead bolt when she heard Doug’s repeated warning to lock her door echoing in her mind. With his lush voice still in her head, she sank to her floor.

Letting only a few teardrops fall, she shook off her feelings of hopelessness, stood up, and headed for her computer.

Flipping up the laptop in the second bedroom she used as an office, Sam set her backpack to the side of the old wooden desk and began to do some serious Internet trolling. She wanted to learn all she could about Sebastian Dane. If he was truly her Doug Morgan, she was going to get to the bottom of why the man had played such a cruel hoax on her.

As her fingers typed in his name, a renewed sense of purpose enlivened her. She may have shared some of her secrets with Doug, but there was one thing he hadn’t discovered. If lied to, Sam Woods could turn into one vengeful bitch.