Red Hots (22 page)

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Authors: Yvette Hines

BOOK: Red Hots
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Yes
. She cheered mentally as she closed
her eyes and pressed her face to the mattress, keeping herself silent. She didn’t
want anything to cause him to stop.

He
was fucking her senseless. The deep assault had her toes curling and her pussy
creaming. She was too near the edge of satisfaction to do anything but hold on.

Then
she felt the slide of one of his hands as he reached around her hips, located
her clit and began fondling it as he glided in and out of her. Her body went
from shaking to tightening around his cock. The orgasm built to a volcanic
intensity inside her core.

As
if understanding her completely, knowing that she stood at the gate, but needed
just a little something extra to push her into paradise, Dom took hold of the sides
of her clit and pinched.

The
sting shot through her body and joined with the heat seducing her along the
walls of her ass and straight into her belly and she came on a loud scream as
she erupted into a fit of ecstasy. Bucking and clawing at the bed coverings,
she took her pleasure.

Behind
her, his climax was just as explosive as his seed poured along her channel.

She
collapsed on the bed and he lowered himself down with her. Still lodged deep in
her ass, he took his weight on his arms as he kept his cock moving on a slow
glide inside of her.

He
kissed her neck and whispered low words she was too joy-induced to try and make
out.

Not
done with her, he continued to love her along the tender walls of her ass until
a second milder orgasm claimed him.

With
a final sigh, he pulled out and rolled away from her. Drained, he pulled her
against him as he took in large gulps of air.

Resting
her head on his shoulder she draped along his side, content and exhausted.

“Rest,
I’ll wake you in a moment for a bath.” He stroked her hair.

There
wasn’t any strength left in her body to do other than he requested. Closing her
eyes, she allowed herself to drift into a sated slumber.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER thirteen

 

 

“Here
are the order forms both from the fax machine as well as from the website.”
Masaun walked into the kitchen where his brother was in the process of
tempering some chocolate.

Sweet
glanced up at him. “Thanks. Sorry I didn’t come by the office when I came down,
I wanted to get a jump on the store order for tomorrow because I knew the
Halloween orders would begin to pick up.”

“No
problem.” Masaun set the sheets in a tray Sweet had mounted against the wall
beside the telephone, up and out of his way. “The damn holiday is still over a
month away and people are already filling our inbox.” In the last five years it
had never ceased to amaze Masaun at the amount of candy and treats people
ordered and consumed. It was damn good for business, but it still confounded
him. He chuckled.

“What
the hell was that?”

His
brother’s voice brought his gaze to meet Sweet’s. “What?” Unsure of what Sweet
had heard, Masaun paused and listened.

“That
fucking sound that came from your mouth.”

Arching
an eyebrow, he stared at the man across the stainless steel table from him.
“Not sure what you’re talking about.”

“Did
your ass just laugh?” His hands still moving, Sweet poured some of the warmed,
melted chocolate onto a marble slab then picked up some kind of pastry bench
scraper and icing spatula as he worked the chocolate. It was a technique Masaun
had seen his brother perform daily to make some of the specialty candies. At
some point, Sweet would start adding in different ingredients to make his
unique treats.

Frowning,
Masaun considered his brother’s words. “I suppose I did. What of it?”

Shaking
his head slowly from left to right, Sweet said, “Nothing. Just noticing that
your mood has seemed to change substantially over the last few weeks. Connie
and Hanson have both reported seeing you smiling while sitting in your office
working and now laughter.”

“Something
wrong with a little joy?” Masaun knew Sweet wasn’t making things up. Over the
last few weeks, he had been feeling like a different man. He didn’t allow
himself to smile now, but he could still feel the pleasure that elevated his
heart and he knew the single cause of it. Kindle Langston. His Song Sparrow.

Ever
since they’d taken the trip to the zoo in Richmond over two weeks ago, things
had changed gradually between them as they settled more comfortably in their
roles of Dom and sub, as well as becoming closer in other areas. No talk of
permanence had taken place, but he was still enjoying what they had.

Shrugging,
Sweet fell silent for a moment, then said, "Not if you’re insane. Then I
can just have you committed and medicated and run off with both our inheritance
if and when mom and dad start pushing up daisies.”

“Shit,
man, that’s cold.” He ran his hand through his hair and set his gaze on his
brother. He didn’t even like to joke about his parents passing away. “Well, I’m
not crazy.”

“Then
it has to be a woman. A new sub, maybe?” Sweet scooped and scraped the liquid
chocolate into a pile then smeared it back out again, just to repeat the
process.

Masaun
considered himself a patient and controlled man, but when it came to the skill
and effort it took to make candy, Sweet had that in spades.

“Maybe.
It’s complicated.”

“It
has to be. Especially since I haven’t seen her bared ass at The Dollhouse with
you. The only submissives you’re with are the trainees.” Sweet paused his
actions for a second then quickly picked up the chocolate tempering rhythm
again. “You attach yourself to a trainee, again?”

“Hell
no.” Masaun felt the heat race up his spine and pulse at the back of his head
causing a headache and the emotional harmony he was just feeling moments ago to
seep out of him. Even a slight reference to Firefly, his ex-sub and how easily
she had walked away from him stung. However, deep inside, Masaun was attuned
enough to know that now it had little to do with Naomi’s actions and more to do
with what could possibly happen with Kindle. The trial was progressing and soon
she would no longer need his
service
. What would become of them then?

He
shook those thoughts away.

“Then
who is she and why have I not met her?” There was a metallic tapping sound from
Sweet scouring the utensils against each other to clear off the chocolate.

“Because
I don’t like to get ahead of myself. Trust me. If things move to a more
permanent basis, you will be the first informed.” Turning, Masaun started
strutting from the kitchen.

“Just
make sure she’s worth the risk.”

Masaun
heard his brother’s words, even though Sweet didn’t speak loud and seemed to be
voicing the wisdom to himself as well as Masaun. No response needed, Masaun
continued to the front of the store to check on things. In an hour, he would be
leaving for the day and he had plans for a quiet dinner at his home with
Kindle. If he made good time, he’d have time for a run to burn away some of the
frustration induced by the conversation with his brother.

The
last thing he needed was a reminder that everything he admired about Kindle—her
strength, confidence, intelligence and dedication to her career—could be the
things that kept her from a long-lasting commitment with him.

Checking
in quickly with Hanson, he decided to cut out early. He needed the run for sure
before Kindle showed up tonight. Thanks to his brother and his own mind, his
emotions had gone to shit.

~YH~

“Thanks,
Chris for pulling these historic case transcripts for me.” She rested her hands
on the stack of files on her desk. She’d ended her line of witnesses over a
week ago and had spent the last week and a half cross examining the defense
attorney’s witnesses, doctors, a school counselor who had worked with Dashell
in the past, a psychiatrist from the local institute where the defendant was being
held for testing, and neighbors. Even with all of the layering of insanity and
mental illness his defense attorney had produced, Kindle had no doubt she’d get
the verdict she was aiming for and Peter Dashell would get life in prison.
There would be no cushy, state mental institution for him. After tomorrow, the Defense
would rest his case and then nothing left but closing arguments.

“You’re
welcome. I’ll see you in the morning.” He turned then started walking to the
door.

“See
you tomorrow,” she called after him already starting to separate the files in
the order she wanted to review them, complex to simple.

He
stopped at the entrance and faced her again.

Feeling
his eyes on her, she looked up.  “Is there something else?”

“I
know this is not my place to say…” He shoved his hands deep into his pockets.

“But
you’re going to anyway.”

He
lifted and dropped one shoulder and smiled. “You seem a lot more…” He seemed to
consider the right word as he gazed off to the side then said, “Relaxed and
less stressed in the last couple weeks. In the beginning you were…” He twisted
his mouth, visually struggling with how to let the words out that she assumed
were hovering on his tongue.

“Bitchy?”

He
chuckled.

She
grinned, appreciating his honesty.

“Yeah.
However, I would have used the word cantankerous or edgy.”

Folding
her arms beneath her breasts, she commented, “A smart man.” Then she became
more serious. “It’s been a tough trial, a hard case at times to deal with.”
Normally she didn’t let her emotions out around her staff, but he’d been
upfront and honest with her and she felt the need to return the favor at least
some. “Chris, did my persona make you consider working for another lawyer?”

“Hell
no.” He swallowed. “I mean no. You’re a mighty fine lawyer and it is
always
an honor to watch you work a case from start to finish and be a part of that
team.”

“Thanks.”

With
a quick nod, he left.

Kindle
collapsed in her seat for a moment. She had been truthful with Chris about the trial
being trying. On so many levels, she had doubted herself repeatedly and
wondered if she were the right lawyer for the case. Not because of skill, but
weariness. Even though things about the situation still plagued the back of her
mind, it didn’t hinder her performance.

For
that, she could thank one person, Masaun Hawkes. The man who had helped her
gain and keep her focus without taking her emotions out on herself. He’d become
her stabilizer in the last three and a half weeks. Her Dom.

Since
their zoo excursion two weeks ago, they had fallen into a routine, different
than the one they had originally agreed upon, but one that suited her just
fine. Most nights she spent at his house, needing the sessions and the
seclusion his home provided her. She’d had another run in with the local
reporter. This time he’d cornered her as she left work. He hadn’t come to her
condo again, but being at Masaun’s, she didn’t have to worry about the
scoop-hungry man invading her space when she wasn’t ready for him.

She
and Masaun’s relationship had seemed to move to the next level. She wasn’t
entirely sure what that level consisted of, but it was different. This morning
was a perfect example of how things had changed and her comfort level with
their secret relationship. He’d called her after she went home to shower and
dress for work. When she answered, he told her not to wear any underwear today.
Unlike the last time when she’d freaked out and couldn’t get her mind away from
the possibility of others figuring out she was bare, she replied with a clear
and calm ‘Yes, Sir.’

However,
after quickly dressing, she left her condo and pushed the speed limit to his
house, wanting to catch him before he left for work. She’d gotten out and rung
the doorbell. The memory of the shock on his gaze when he opened the door and
saw her standing there made her smile even now. After asking and receiving his
permission to enter, she stepped in, closed his door and promptly lifted her
skirt and removed her panties.

Placing
them in his hand, she had given him a confident smile and left after pushing
her skirt back into place. She’d stunned him speechless. Hopping back into her
car, still racing, she went to work.

Crossing
her legs now, she felt the slickness between her thighs, caused by both the
memory of that morning, thoughts of Masaun and the pleasure of her submission
to him.

Yes,
things had really changed for her. The trial was coming to a close fast,
tomorrow was the last day of witness testimony, then soon closing arguments
would be complete. Where would that leave her and Masaun? Would he want their
arrangement to end before or after sentencing? Or to carry on longer?

She
never allowed herself to consider permanency with him. That was the reason she
never brought a change of clothes to his house. This was temporary and even
though she could recognize the deeper feeling for him she had, she refused to
allow it to rule her. The warnings of her father about keeping her heart
guarded and her mind focused on her career. That caution had been drilled into
her mind her entire life. Her father had loved, let his guard down and still
her mother had walked away—on them both.

Sighing,
she pushed away those melancholy thoughts and gathered the things she needed.
Masaun was cooking dinner for her tonight and she was excited to get there.
Outside of the sessions and sex, he had become a sounding board to her. Most
nights, she brought work home with her and used his office after dinner. She
verbalized different ideas and possibilities out loud to him, where he would be
reading in a corner. Masaun always came up with various angles or avenues of
questions. She could easily see how he’d been a shrewd and successful lawyer in
his day.

With
Masaun her two worlds—personal and professional—had collided and joined.

With
everything locked up that she wasn’t taking with her, she was soon in her car
and headed to the home of her Dom. Even though she hadn’t been brave enough to
call him anything beyond Sir yet, she did respect his authority over her in
their personal relationship.

Twenty-minutes
later, she was pulling into his driveway. He kept the garage door open for her,
so that she could pull in beside his car—another change for them.

Out
of the car, she pushed the button on the inside panel of the garage as she
headed out, closing the wide door behind her. Knowing the door was unlocked for
her, she walked in.

“Good
evening, Song Sparrow.”

She
stutter-stepped at his greeting. She didn’t expect him to be standing at the
opening of the living room as if he was waiting for her. “Hello, Sir.”

“Close
the door, please.” He stepped toward her, but still left more than four feet
between them.

Obeying
him, she closed and locked the door as she fully entered the house.

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