Hers for the Evening (28 page)

She glanced at the laptop, tapped a couple of times to get back to the e-mail. With a cut-and-paste, she copied the ad’s e-mail designation over to her shopping account, then typed the same words.

“Yes, please, I need this.”

It was only an anonymous e-mail. The ad was over twenty-four hours old so the guy might not even answer. Maybe he’d already found his submissive. It didn’t matter. She needed to get out of this hole she’d dug for herself ruminating over Artie and everything that had gone wrong. A few anonymous e-mail 185

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exchanges with a man she’d never meet was exactly what she needed. She deserved some fun in life.

Haley hit SEND.

SIMON’S HEART BEAT RIGHT OUT OF HIS CHEST. HE’D DESIGNED THE ad specifically for her after reading the four she’d been looking at. Pulling them up on his own computer, he’d studied the language, the nuances, then added things he thought would touch a nerve for her. He hadn’t truly expected her to answer. Receiving about fifteen hits, he’d weeded out half as being 100 percent not her, a couple even being from men wondering if he liked to dominate males. Five of the others, it had taken one e-mail exchange to figure it out. The other three, he’d averaged four messages to determine it wasn’t her. This one, he could practically smell her need in those few short words. Hers. Only hers. He recognized the e-mail address as one he’d seen her use online. He dashed off an answer. “Tell me why you need this.”

He’d created an account she wouldn’t recognize. Before she figured out who he was, he wanted to whet her appetite for what he could do for her. Of course, once he told her, which he would do before they talked on the phone or met, she’d probably never speak to him again. It was a chance he’d been willing to take. He had to get her to see beyond the face she encountered damn near every day at the office, beyond the man she thought had betrayed her. He wanted to get back to what they’d had before Artie turned into an asshole. He wanted that old camaraderie with the added bonus of hot sex. He wasn’t a dom in the BDSM definition of the word, but he could give her what she craved—

acceptance, love, desire, passion. All the things Artie had never learned a woman needed.

Simon saw her for the jewel she was. If he had to issue a few orders to get her to believe that, he’d do it.

His inbox lit up. So did something inside him.

“Because I’m tired of being the one in control,” she wrote. He saw hints of living with Artie in her statement. Artie had raged about how she micromanaged his life. Haley’s a fucking spoilsport. Why do you need that?

Why do you always have to have the best? You’ve already got one of those, why do you need another? He could hear Artie’s voice mimicking her. He’d never told Artie he was full of shit. Not that Artie would have listened, but it would have 186

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shown loyalty to Haley. Because she’d been right, Artie always made her play the bad guy.

“Let me be the one in control.” He couldn’t fix the things he’d neglected to do over the years, but he would be her future if she’d let him in. He had only a limited amount of time before she asked his name or, hope against hope, wanted to meet him. Learning everything he could about her desires was paramount. He dashed off another e-mail before she’d even answered the last.

“Tell me your deepest, darkest fantasies. The ones you’ve never shared. Not even with your best girlfriend.”

It could backfire. When he revealed who he was, she could very well hate him more than she already did. The potential reward was worth the risk. 187

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3

HER SKIN PRICKLED. HALEY RUBBED HER ARMS. SHE USED TO BE normal, standard, even somewhat vanilla sexually. After reading so many naughty ads, she found herself terribly excited by the racy, kinkier ones. She’d never thought to reveal her newfound interests to anyone.

“I’m afraid.” Once she’d sent off the e-mail, she realized it was the epitaph for her life. She wasn’t a risk-taker. Another of Artie’s complaints. Every decision was based on fear.

The answer was quick to arrive. “Trust me with your secrets.”

Haley laughed out loud. How could she trust him? He’d put out a bondage sex ad on the Internet, and they’d exchanged a handful of e-mails. He was nothing more than a dot-com address, for heaven’s sake. Haley slumped back against the sofa cushions, the laptop heating her legs as it rested on her thighs. That was it exactly. He was an e-mail address. He wrote a bondage ad. He wouldn’t consider her a freak any more than he’d think of himself that way. He was probably the one person she could tell absolutely anything to and still be completely accepted. There was one thing she wouldn’t do, even on e-mail. “Are you married?”

“Single. Never been married.”

Good. She didn’t want to be a part of adultery, even on e-mail. Telling him her fantasies was no risk at all. She was already warm and tingly just contemplating it. She thought about asking his name and what he looked like, but that would spoil the image she wanted to create in her mind. If she didn’t ask questions, he could remain the perfect man. “Give me a few minutes to write my deepest, darkest fantasy for you.”

He was waiting for her, his reply almost immediate. “I’m a patient man if it means getting what I want.”

An Artie comparison immediately filled her head, and she thrust it back out. Artie didn’t belong here tonight. She wanted to have fun; it had been so long since she’d had hot, sexy fun. She’d never done anything like her deepest, darkest fantasy. She’d never told anyone, either. Haley began typing.

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I lie awake at night sometimes with so many naughty thoughts running through my head. I imagine my commanding, forceful lover tying my wrists to the rails of the headboard, then my ankles to the foot of the bed, spreading my legs wide. He teases me, blowing on my pussy, trailing a scarf over my breasts, making my nipples hard. I’m so wet and ready for whatever he has planned for me. He forces me to do things I didn’t think I’d like, but he’s never rough, and he makes everything so electrifying. This time there’s something different; he doesn’t undress but remains fully clothed while I’m completely naked and exposed. It thrills me yet terrifies me, an exhilarating combination. I have no idea what to expect.

Until he opens the door to another man. My whole body stills, my breath catches in my throat. What are they going to do to me? I’ve never been with two men. My lover tells me he’s going to watch while this other man goes down on me. He wants to see me come from another man’s mouth, another man’s touch. I fear that I’m not enough for him anymore. As soon as the thought flits through my mind, his lips are at my ear assuring me how exciting and hot it will be for him. I’m still afraid, but it doesn’t matter what I want because I have no choice but to submit to his will.

Haley stopped in the writing of her tale, her body humming, sexy goose bumps pebbling her skin, her face overly warm. It was more than the excitement of her fantasy. It was telling him. Wondering if it would make him hard, if he’d want to stroke himself reading her words, knowing her thoughts. She went on.

The man removes his clothes. He’s older than me, handsome, well built. Like my lover is. I’m jittery with nerves and anticipation. My lover tells me he won’t blindfold me, that he wants me to see another man licking my pussy, and that he loves watching me submit to his desires. Forcing me to let go of my inhibitions makes it hotter for him. Whatever excites him does the same for me. He frees me.

The handsome older man climbs on the bed between my legs. He trails his index finger down my pussy, then parts me and licks my clit. My lover demands that I lock gazes with him, his eyes silver hot, while the other man licks and sucks me. He sits on the bed next to us. It’s the sexiest, most intriguing sensation. All the while he talks, asking how I like it, how it feels. I answer 189

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between sharp breaths because it’s so good. He reaches out, pinches my nipple hard, twisting slightly. That unique pleasure-pain he makes me feel shoots straight to my clitoris. I moan and grind and arch, riding the wave of building climax. His deep, sexy voice, the man’s warm, wet tongue, it’s more than I can handle, and I come hard, pulling at the restraints he’s put on me, crying out, tears leaking from my eyes. I come back to myself to the touch of his fingers at my temples, through my hair, while the other man is kissing my inner thighs. I have a feeling they aren’t done with me yet.

Simon’s cock was an aching iron shaft in his jeans at the end of the reading. Holy hell. She was hot. Artie had his head up his ass when he said she was a prude. He simply didn’t know how to free her inner slut. He hadn’t appreciated her enough to discover the hot, sexy, naughty woman she truly was. Fuck Artie. He’d blown it, screwed around on her, and he was gone. Now it was Simon’s turn. He was not going to fuck up. He loved women, everything about them: the way they smelled, how soft their skin was, the taste of their lips and their pussies. But he’d never been in love with a woman he was fucking. He imagined love made the experience that much more intense. Sex with Haley would be better than any fantasy he’d had as a horny kid.

“I need to come right this fucking second,” he typed. She’d love knowing what her words did to him. He shot off another quickie. “Do you masturbate to this fantasy?”

He counted the seconds. There were too many of them. “Yes.” She answered only the second question, but his gut told him she liked the first comment just as much. The thought of her lying in her bed touching herself sent another wave of blood rushing to his dick.

He cruised over the things she’d written. He noticed that she didn’t call the man master or sir as in the traditional dom/sub relationship. She referred to him as her lover. He also noted her use of “silver hot” referring to her lover’s eyes. He’d seen that on the first run-through, and his heart had skipped a beat or two, but he wouldn’t give it too much meaning. Not yet. There were other things that stood out. “You would only do this if he forced you?”

This time she was quick on the keyboard. “Only if I was tied down so I couldn’t fight it. I’d have to surrender to his desires, whatever he wanted.”

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“That’s damn sexy,” he zipped off. Surrender to me. He’d written the words specifically for her. He’d been so right. She wanted to surrender, needed to.

“The idea of forcing you to comply makes me hard,” he added in another email. His trigger finger was getting too happy, sending off missives before he thought them through. Starting a chat would be easier, but the delay waiting for her next e-mail gave him an extra kick.

“All my responsibility would be taken away,” she wrote.

“You’d be free.”

“Yes. I would be forced to let go of all my inhibitions. Because I wouldn’t be able to stop him.”

She wouldn’t want to stop him, that was the whole point for her. Not that he’d call her a control freak, but she definitely could do with allowing a bit of her control to fly out the window. She wasn’t looking for the true dom/sub relationship, she simply needed justification for letting go.

“Let’s do a little mindfuck here.” He sent that off to gauge her reaction.

“What’s a mindfuck?”

There was a bad mindfuck, screwing with someone’s head, but there was also a very good one. “What you did to me with your fantasy. Seducing me with your words.”

She was gone too long. Haley wasn’t fastidious, but she didn’t cuss a lot, either. Maybe fuck offended her.

Then she was back. “Mindfuck me.”

Shallow breaths, an ache in his chest. She made him feel. He wanted this so badly his eyesight blurred a moment. “Pretend I’m your lover.” He closed his eyes to savor the fantasy. “Will you do whatever I tell you?”

He could feel each individual beat of his heart against the wall of his chest. He’d had so much sex, started when he was fourteen, initiated by an older woman, and he’d enjoyed each and every encounter to the utmost since. Minus a few, but whatever. Yet his gut had never trembled with this need. He’d never been on the edge waiting for a word. Even with Haley, despite his emotions about her, he’d never allowed himself this feeling. First she was Artie’s, then she hated him.

Now, he wanted every single heart-pounding, frantic, insane moment. It was more than the dance and tease of seduction. It was his next breath.

“If you were my lover, I would have to do whatever you told me to.”

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A fire shot to life in his belly. Christ, he hadn’t a clue what he’d been missing. He’d only had the physical, but the mental part . . . man, it was exponential. He spun her a story of his own, emulating her style.

Here’s what I would force you to do. You would have no choice. You would comply. I untie you and tell you that you must do things to this man. You nod, but I see the fear in your eyes. I lean close, my lips brushing your temple, and I tell you how pleased I will be if you obey. That you are my special one. You need to be pushed to your limits. I must know you are mine completely, willing to do whatever I ask. I untie the scarves I’ve bound you with.