Over the Line (11 page)

He—or she—dropped it. Then it laughed, picked up her shoe and high-tailed it out of there. Suddenly, Sydney remembered Master Michael telling her the beast’s name was Chewie. “Get back here!” she called. She exhaled in exasperation when it kept moving.

Ranching, she decided, cream or no cream in her coffee, wasn’t for her.

She hurriedly grabbed a pair of lightweight hiking pants from her bag, worked her way into them then pulled on some socks and boots.

After tossing the remaining shoe forlornly in the bag, she went after the midget. The thing was nowhere to be found. “Damn it.”

Trying to pretend the shoes hadn’t cost a week’s wages, she set out at a brisk pace towards the river.

The walk helped burn off some of the frustration. Some of her friends used yoga or breathing to calm themselves. For her, being out of breath was the only thing that worked. Scaling a mountain was significantly more helpful to her than a day at the spa.

The irritation returned when she remembered she’d left the coffee cup on top of the car.

Rather than going back for it, she allowed the sound of water to lure her.

As she stood at the edge, watching the river rush over rocks, she saw an eagle overhead. She watched it for long minutes as it caught thermals, soaring with hardly a flap. She could get used to it out here.

At least that’s what she thought until she heard a familiar and unwelcome bleat. The goat emerged from between two pine trees. And it didn’t have her shoe. “You’re a pest.” She sat and Chewie lowered himself onto his knees next to her. “I was enjoying this until you showed up,” she told the thing.

It blinked.

“Fine. You can stay. But I want my shoe back.”

It shook its head, but Sydney knew the timing was an odd coincidence.

She stayed where she was for longer than she could remember, and she finally gave in and stroked its spiny back. The short fur—or was it hair?—was softer than she’d thought it would be. The black and white creature had a few small brown markings and was surprisingly adorable, despite its bad manners. “Don’t get any ideas,” she said. “I mean it. Stop looking at me like that.”

Chewie bumped her hand, its ears standing straight up.

“You forgot this.”

She jumped at the sound of Master Michael’s voice. How had she not heard his approach? With a half-smile, she looked over her shoulder to see him standing there holding two cups of coffee. “Bless you,” she said.

The goat abandoned her and went straight to him. Clearly even the goat knew who the master was.

He crouched next to her and offered her the same cup she’d abandoned on top of the car. As their hands connected, she glanced away. He had on his requisite hat and a long-sleeved shirt much like the one she’d donned. He’d rolled back the cuffs, leaving his forearms bare. Faded denim jeans conformed to his muscular legs. Despite the summer day, he looked like a working man.

“I see you’ve met Chewie.”

“And lost a favourite shoe,” she said wryly.

“Expensive?”

“Yes.”

He winced. “I’ll replace them.”

“
Very
expensive,” she amended. Then unable to help herself, she laughed. “I don’t wear them all that often. I have others.”

“I’ve seen some with spikes on the heels. They were red, as I recall.”

“I like red.”

“They’d look good on you.”

She brought her knees to her chest and wrapped her arms around them. “Maybe I will take you up on your offer.”

“You should.”

Chewie wandered down to the water for a drink.

“And I’ll take you up on yours,” he said.

Though his tone was still light, she heard a serious undercurrent. She took a sip of the still warm and very much welcome coffee and looked at him. “Sir?”

“The one where you get on your knees and suck my cock in apology for leaving my bed without permission.”

She jerked her hand, sloshing the coffee. “Ah…”

He took the cup from her hand and placed it on the ground. “Or the one where you pull down your pants, lie across my lap and beg me to punish you for the same reason.”

Breath constricted in her chest. A serious line was drawn between his eyebrows. With a squeak, she managed, “Here? Now?”

“Or the one where I tie you to the fence and flog you.”

This man aroused her with only his words. “Do I have to choose one? Or can I select all of the above?”

Chapter Five

“I’m always happy to accommodate a beautiful little sub,” he said.

She opened her eyes wide. Apparently his response had caught her off guard. No doubt other men tripped over their tongues at her sass, using that as an excuse to dole out the beatings she’d searched out. No doubt her cloak of invincibility had been polished to perfection. And it was likely useful for keeping most men away. She affected an air of nonchalance from the confidence in her stride, the way she held her shoulders back, even the flip of her hair.

Despite Gregorio’s warning, or maybe because of it, Michael had looked past her perfect hair and makeup, form-fitting leather dress, fuck-me heels and attitude, searching for the vulnerable woman beneath. Watching her, he continued, “Which order would you like to go in? First to last? Or last to first?” he asked. “Or, we could start with the second option. Having your body pressed against my cock will get me hard, saving you a few seconds on the blow job.”

He’d be willing to bet she had no idea how expressive her face was. When something intrigued her, she parted her lips. Her breathing also changed, becoming faster. And that made him want her even more.

Seeing her here, now, in her natural state, wearing baggy nylon pants and sturdy boots, with hair ravaged, no makeup and dressed in one of his shirts, she had no artifice.

Earlier, when she’d touched his face in bed, he’d considered letting her know he was awake. He was a notoriously light sleeper, aware of every noise inside and outside the house. But the opportunity to observe Sydney’s unguarded moments had been irresistible, despite the hard-on urging him to grab her, pin her beneath him and slake his morning lust.

He’d heard her moving about the kitchen then smelt the aroma of brewing coffee. He’d taken his time pulling on a pair of jeans and a T-shirt. But before he’d made it down the stairs, he’d heard the front door close. He’d noticed her leather dress was still artfully draped across a chair, and her purse sat on the counter where she’d left it, so he wasn’t concerned that she was leaving without saying goodbye.

Curious, though, he’d grabbed a cup of coffee. As a testament to how he felt about her, he hadn’t even minded that she’d taken the cream from the top of the milk.

Barefoot, he’d wandered to the window. He’d enjoyed watching her interact with Chewie. He’d always figured he could learn a lot about a person based on the way they treated animals. Watching her tentatively reach out to pet the goat behind the ears had made him smile. Chewie was a decent judge of character, much like some dogs Michael had owned. And the way she’d trotted along next to Sydney as they’d headed towards the river had told him a lot.

Taking his time, he’d headed upstairs to finish dressing. While he’d been putting on his clothes, he’d been mentally stripping hers off. Now he intended to do it in reality. “I want to kiss you,” he said.

He put a hand in her hair and held the back of her head. He met her gaze, and he realised he could get lost in the blue depths of her eyes. They communicated her true emotion better than what came out of her mouth. If she knew he saw that, she’d be scared.

“Sir, I’d rather we just—”

“Sydney? Use a safe word or shut up.” He prised apart her hands then pulled her between his legs. She was on her knees, and he was tugging her head back. He brushed his lips across hers. “Soft,” he told her.

“Yes…”

This time, he licked her upper lip.

“That’s sexy,” she said.

He drew her bottom lip between his teeth and bit down with the slightest pressure.

She tipped back her chin.

“Open your mouth to me.” He tightened his grip in her hair and yanked on the shirt to reveal her creamy chest.

She parted her lips, and he pressed his tongue to hers. She moaned from deep inside, and the slight sound of her capitulation galvanised him. He sought more, wanting her total surrender. She tasted of coffee, of morning, of promise.

He deepened the kiss and she responded, moving so she could wrap both her arms around him, knocking off his hat. Even if she wanted to hide who she really was, she was honest with her desires. He appreciated that, if nothing else.

She met each of his thrusts. He reached inside her shirt to caress one of her breasts, knowing she was probably tender. It wouldn’t take much to arouse her, but he didn’t want to make her too sore…yet. When he whipped her front later, he wanted her to enjoy the feel of deer hide biting at her nipples.

Boldly, she moved one hand lower and curled it over his growing cock. Now he wished he’d dressed in something other than jeans. He adjusted their positions, dragging her closer. She met his intensity with ferocity of her own. Still, he was in control, just as he should be.

By small measures he ended the kiss and eased his grip. “I should have done that last night. A dozen times last night,” he amended.

“I don’t normally kiss,” she said.

“You do now.”

“I suppose that’s true, Sir. And since your hat seems to have fallen off…” She moved to press her palms against his chest. “We should get started on my offer.” Diligently she set to work on his shirt, unfastening the buttons and pulling the hem from his waistband.

He let her lead. For now.

She shucked the material from his shoulders. She fumbled with the metal button of his jeans but continued until she released it. The zipper was another story. “I think your cock is making this more difficult,” she said.

“What do you suggest?”

“Would you stand, please, Sir?”

He did.

She used both hands—one to hold the denim taut, the other to release the metal teeth. Then she tugged his jeans, letting them fall to his ankles. He removed his boots and jeans, and she knelt to take his cockhead in her mouth.

Without a condom, her tongue felt more amazing than it had last night.

She cupped his balls with one hand and stroked him with the other as she moved up and down his engorged shaft. She took him deep into her mouth until he was certain she was going to gag. But she didn’t.

“Damn,” he mumbled. Her touch was masterful. She placed a finger on his perineum and a million sensations zinged through him. He’d had blow jobs before, really good ones, but no one had been as dedicated to the task as she was.

She moved up and placed the tip of her tongue underneath his cock. She continued to move her hands quickly, tugging on his testicles, adding extra pressure to that sensitive spot near his anus and licking with the lightest of pressures.

Constantly she changed the tempo, licking and sucking harder as she used less pressure from her hands. Then she slid up and took his dick in her mouth again. She caressed, pulled, cupped, pressed. That she was into it, into him, drove him mad. “Sydney,” he warned, on the verge.

She tightened her grip, driving his orgasm.

“Woman…” He moaned as ejaculate pulsed its way from his balls.

He expected her to pull away, maybe let him spill on the ground or her chest, but she didn’t. She drew up, holding onto the tip of his cock as she swallowed it all. He put his hands on her head near her ears and she looked up. He wasn’t sure how it was possible, but it appeared she was smiling while she still had him in her mouth. Finally, she let go, and she licked the last drop from the slit.

“Now I don’t have to worry about your hard cock pressing against me while I get a spanking.” She wiped tears from her face.

“Don’t be too sure of that,” he said, getting dressed again. “Come here.”

He helped her to stand.

Since the ground was uneven, she took a hopping step to steady herself. He wrapped an arm around her waist then captured her chin and tilted her head back before gently brushing a kiss across her mouth. “Thank you.”

“Thank you, Sir.”

Michael heard Chewie bleat. He glanced over to see the caprine trotting off with his hat. Giving chase would make the Nigerian dwarf think he was playing a game. The best he could hope for was that he’d get it back without any pieces missing. He also knew he was a dreamer. “She thinks she’s a dog, and she’ll eat anything. Hyperactive hellion. I keep hoping she’ll grow up.”

“I guess my shoe is in good company.”

“I should have hung it from a tree branch.” He released her chin as he watched one of his most expensive hats bobbing up and down until it and the goat both disappeared.

“At least she didn’t steal your pants.”

He raised his brow. “Good point.”

“But you could have covered the family jewels with your hat. Since you’re flaccid, at least it wouldn’t stick out.” She snickered.

“You think that’s funny?”

“Very, Sir.”

“I think you do need that spanking.”

Her smile widened.

“Incorrigible.”

“Yes, Sir.”

He spied a boulder. He took her hand and guided her towards it. “Drop your pants,” he said, sitting and making sure the ground was solid beneath him so that his boot didn’t accidentally slip, sending her sprawling. “You can hold one of my legs for balance since we’re on an angle.”

“Sir is very generous.”

“Was that sarcasm, little sub?”

“Absolutely not, Sir. That would be disrespectful.”

“Your pants,” he reminded her. Her hand trembled slightly, delighting him. He loved that he had an effect on her. She had one on him. She draped herself over his knee. “Hard to decide which position I like you in the best.”

“You always seem to have my ass sticking up.”

“If you behaved better, maybe you wouldn’t always need it warmed.” He waited, cocking his head to the side. “No response?”

“Ah, that’s not really incentive for me to behave, Sir.” She kicked her legs a bit.

“Oh, right. The denied orgasm is most effective with you.”