Liv's Journey (4 page)

“Well, not yet, at any rate,” he replied.

She muttered, "
Yet.
Hmph."

Trey chuckled and reached for her hips, pulling her up against him. "You really do have a hankerin' for a red bottom, li'l girl."

She pushed against his chest, her mouth turned down at the corners. Trey noted that her show of strength was half-hearted. Her hard nipples and warm belly told him that she wasn't really interested in shoving him away.

He cupped Liv's round bottom, finding that her thin jeans weren't much of an impediment. Excellent. Watching her face to gauge her reaction, he raised his hand and swatted her behind firmly.

She squealed and smacked his shoulder. "Hey!"

He did it again and she glowered at him. Liv squirmed in the arch of his arms, but didn't try to escape. In fact, she pushed her bottom back toward his hand, encouraging him more.

A few more spanks and she got wide-eyed and red-cheeked. He bent his head and found her lips. They were sweet and warm. Her response was eager. His erection throbbed against her lightly-cushioned belly.

"There now, darlin'," he soothed as he raised his head. Her eyes were unfocused. "Liv."

"Mmm."

He swatted her again several times and she moaned, blue eyes shut tight. "How close are you, angel?"

"Close, Trey."

He cupped her bottom again, pleased to feel the extra heat emanating from those perfect globes. "Don't use the vibrator and there will be a reward in it for you."

"Vibrator?"

"Liv. Don't use it." He gave her another hard smack.

"Oh God, Trey. Don't stop."

He kissed her forehead, the tip of her nose, and then took her lips again, nibbling for a moment before finding her tongue with his own. Her response was to welcome him deep into her mouth. When he broke their kiss, she was rubbing her belly against the solid bulge in his jeans and punctuating his spanks with soft sounds of pleasure.

"No vibrator, Liv. Don't forget."

"Okay. Let me come now."

He pulled away from her and she almost stumbled. As he held her firmly, he smiled at her frown. "Reward later, darlin'. You mind first."

"Trey… You want me to beg? Is that it?"

Her face was so smooth under his fingers. "Hell no. I want you to earn your reward, that's all."

"Later?"

He nodded. "Yup."

Her sigh was deep as she took a step back. "How will you know I ob- did what you asked?"

"I'll know."

"Hmph. Well, I won't test you." She looked at her shoes, a blush rising to her cheeks. "I want more."

A little chuckle burbled up in his throat. "Yeah, you do."

She frowned. "Don't be so smug."

"Me? Smug?"

"You are
not
my boss, Trey. If I do what you want, it's because I want to do it."

He shrugged. "No, I'm not your boss. Does that bother you?"

* * *

Liv considered that question carefully, because in some ways, yes, it did bother her. She hadn't had a boyfriend in two years—ever since she, well, since she changed. She'd been chalking it up to career pressure, but that wasn't the truth.

Because Liv was successful in her career, most men assumed that she was a take-charge kind of woman in all aspects of her life. But oh how she'd love to give up some of that control and float on a sea of trust and duty. Trust in someone to care about her, and duty to one to whom she felt loyal. There was no one like that in her life.

 To top it off, her body just wasn't something she could share easily anymore. She was self-conscious out of her clothes, which was a sharp difference between her Paris days and current times. She didn't like her new body, even though it was easier to maintain.

If she had a "boss" who cared about how she felt, he would want her the way she was, chubby and not particularly in vogue. He would give her support with her career.

It
did
bother her that no one was her boss. Surprisingly, it bothered her enough that she got defensive about it.

"In case you hadn't noticed it, Trey, I'm doing okay on my own."

He grinned, unharmed by her barb. "Oh yeah, I noticed.”

"Are you nominating yourself as Boss of Liv?"

Laughing, he took her hand and started down the trail heading toward the photo shoot. "I might be. Not sure I know enough to hire you yet, though."

She pulled back her hand and stopped. "Not sure? What do you mean by that?"

"I'm not sure you're ready to follow orders from an officer."

"Don't go all soldierly on me, Trey. I'm not a recruit."

He took her hand again and they traveled a few more steps. "I'll bet you'd be shocked and resentful about the kind of orders I might give you." He looked at her and she frowned at his grin. "Especially in the bedroom."

The idea of being in a bedroom being ordered by Trey set Liv's blood on fire, and she hadn't recovered from their earlier encounter yet! Her clit was still pulsing and anxious.

"What makes you think I'd be so easily shocked. I might be a total slut, for all you know."

He laughed hard at that, and she pulled her hand away and walked a little faster. "If you're a slut, Liv, then I'm the King of England."

She wasn't a blushing wallflower—sex was a way of life in the fashion business—but she'd never been promiscuous, opting for relationship-building over variety. "Okay, so I'm not a slut, but neither am I a virgin."

He was still smiling, the annoying man. "I didn't think you were."

"So we agree that I wouldn't be shocked."

He shook his head. "I don't say that, darlin’."

"Look, Trey, I’m a model. I've heard about everything by now. You can't shock me."

He looked at her with a tease in his eyes. Trey was playing with her, she realized. "
Hearin'
about kink and doin’ it yourself are different things."

"You think you're too kinky for me." Liv admitted to herself that she wasn't particularly kinky, having unsuccessfully tried a thing or two.

"I
know
I'm too kinky for you…right now."

Liv thought about that as they hiked down the path. "What's your kink?"

"BDSM," he said simply.

That was rather surprising. Trey didn't seem like the whips and chains type. "You mean with floggers and handcuffs and stuff like that?"

"Somethin’ like that. I'm more into hands than tack, but you get the idea. I like to spank, in particular, and I like to be in charge, in general." He took her hand again and she didn't shake herself loose. "Does submission interest you?"

"You mean to you? Me submit to you?"

He murmured agreement.

Control. She'd be out of control if she let him take it from her. She'd be trusting him to use the relationship to their mutual satisfaction, and not abuse it. Liv thought about his rough fingers on her nipples and shuddered with remembered pleasure. The swats on her bottom had revved her up and nearly sent her over the edge. It surprised her; she would never have pictured herself as someone who wanted to be spanked. However, a little pain was stimulating. Would she want more? How revealing should she be? And could she really submit, looking as she did? So far, she hadn't even had missionary sex with a man since she'd changed.

"Maybe."

He cleared his throat.

"Well, a little. I guess it would depend."

"Oh? On what?"

"How far it was supposed to go. I wouldn't want to be anyone's slave or anything like that."

"Good bosses don’t micro-manage, darlin’, it’s too much like work. I do set some general boundaries on behavior, but I'm more dominant in the bedroom than anywhere else. And in clubs, of course."

She'd heard of BDSM clubs though she'd never gone to one. At one time, she might have been convinced to wear latex and no bra, but she never had, and it was too late for that now. She didn't have the body for it anymore.

"There are some things I couldn't get into, Trey."

"Glad to hear that. Anyone with self-respect has limits. No sub worth havin' has no limits. I don't want a doormat."

What did he want? He'd already said she wasn't ready for him. Already said he didn't know if he wanted to be her boss. The whole argument was moot.

"Why are we talking about this?"

"To get to know each other better. To see if we're movin' toward somethin' instead of wanderin' around blindly."

The photo shoot was in sight. "I do feel a little out of my depth."

He squeezed her hand and stopped them at the edge of the tree line. His eyes were so brown, like a warm cup of coffee. He put his arms around her, and she turned her face up for a kiss, but he pressed his lips on her forehead and let go of her. Liv realized she'd been leaning in toward him when she stumbled back a pace.

"Trust me, darlin'."

Liv nodded, but she wasn't sure she meant it. Could she trust him?

Could she trust herself to let go?

Chapter 3

Trey went back to whatever he did during the day, and Liv finished up her photo session. He hadn't asked her to look at the stars with him again, and she thought maybe her lukewarm response to his BDSM admission had put him off. But, as she began moving toward a trailer, he showed up again.

She stood there and admired him as he got out of his truck and put a cowboy hat on his head. It was black and curved perfectly to fit the shape of his rugged face, and he looked so damn sexy in it. She wanted to mark him as her territory when the other girls stopped and looked at him, too.

Gabriella, in fact, watched him intensely.
Younger
Gabriella.
Pretty
Gabriella, whose career was just beginning to take off.
Ambitious
Gabriella. Liv thought about the possibility of competition. It made her fingers tighten into a ball. She hadn't competed for a man in several years. She had confidence in her ability—confidence left over from
before
—but she was, at the same time, concerned about what Trey was looking for. It was always possible that, faced with a choice of a younger woman, he'd choose youth over maturity. Lots of men did.

She didn't know why it mattered so much to her anyway. But it did.

He walked right up to her and yanked on a lock of her hair. "Hey there."

Liv pulled her hair out of his hand. "Hey, yourself. What are you doing back here?"

"I came to pick you up."

Excitement bubbled up in her belly, but she tried to remain nonchalant on the outside. "We didn't have anything planned."

"I want you to meet some people. Come have dinner with us."

"Dinner?" Food. Why was there always food? She was hungry, but she didn't want him to see her eat like a pig. She knew she ate too much. She used to eat too little, and the pendulum had swung.

"Yes, ma'am. There's a wonderful cantina in Sonora and I'm meetin' a few friends there for dinner. It seemed like somethin' we'd have fun doin' together."

"I'm not hungry," she lied.

"Then just have a margarita. Come on, Liv. It'll be fun. These are good people."

She bit her lower lip and thought about it. Gabriella took that moment to walk up and greet Trey.

"Hi, cowboy. Where's your horse?"

He laughed and gave her a warm smile. Liv's face stiffened.

Pointing toward his truck, he said, "That’s my horse over there; he’s a were-truck. Come the full moon, he transforms into an appaloosa. He gets twenty miles to the hay bale.”

The younger woman laughed. Dimples showed in her cheeks. Liv could have gleefully throttled her.

"Going for an evening ride…in your were-truck?"

She was flirting! Gabriella was flirting with Trey. Liv fixed on her best ice queen smile and addressed the girl. "We were about to leave, Gabby."

Trey shot her a neutral look, but his eyes spoke volumes. They said he was wondering what had gotten into her, and Liv wondered the same thing. Nonetheless, she sailed on as if she hadn't a care in the world. Inside her heart was pounding.

Gabriella's smile wilted. "Oh. Well, I'll have to hope for a ride—in your truck—another time." She patted his bicep. "Good to see you again, Trey. Have fun, Liv."

Liv nodded and smiled, genuinely pleased that she'd won that round. It wasn't nice of her, and she knew it. Some part of her was even contrite over shooting Gabriella down as she'd done. And for something she wasn't even sure she should want. Well, Liv wasn't trying for the Miss Congeniality award.

Trey wished Gabriella a good evening, and when he and Liv were alone again, he stuck his thumbs in his belt and smiled at Liv as though he knew exactly why she'd done what she'd done. She squared her shoulders and tried to look unaffected.

"Glad you changed your mind," he said.

A little heat stole over Liv's cheeks. "A woman's prerogative. Isn't that what they say?"

He nodded and held out his hand. "That's what they say. Come on."

She took his hand, but resisted being pulled along. "Wait. Am I dressed okay? How fancy is this place?" He was dressed in his usual jeans and boots, but sported a western shirt with wide yoke shoulders and fancy buttons. Liv considered her own slightly rumpled linen pants and loose tank top and felt inadequate.

"It's not fancy, and you're dressed fine. You look gorgeous. You always look gorgeous," he assured her.

She didn't
feel
gorgeous, but she did have makeup on, and her hair was okay, so she stopped resisting and got in the truck with him.

It took half an hour to get to the cantina called Carlos' Carniceria. It didn't look like a butcher shop, so the name was obviously a quip.

Liv was a little nervous about meeting Trey's friends, but she plastered on a smile and tried to think confident thoughts.

The inside of the restaurant was colorful, with murals on the walls and lots of attractive Mexican pottery and lush plants. Trey murmured something to the pretty hostess at the wooden hostess stand and she guided them to a table where three people sat smiling and conversing.

They all looked up as Trey and Liv arrived.

A bright-eyed brunette spoke up first. "Trey! Finally. We thought you'd had a flat tire or something."