Reno [Wolfe Brothers 2] (Siren Publishing Classic) (3 page)

“Do you want another punishment for your disrespect?”

“Fine! Can I please get up, your highness?” In quick succession, she received ten more strikes against her thighs and ass.

“You’re going to be stubborn, aren’t you?” he asked as he kept her pinned on his lap.

“Please may I get up, sir?” she asked him tearfully. Lord, she almost hated to sit up. She was sure that her makeup would have to be running down her face. It wasn’t as if she was Ari and could carry the messy look off. Of course, Ari’s makeup wouldn’t have the audacity to run off of her face.

He gently let her rise, but when she tried to pull her clothing back into place, he refused to let her. “Leave it off, pet,” he ordered as he motioned for her to sit down beside him. “Did you enjoy your punishment?”

“Hell no!” He actually laughed at her response. She looked around the living room for something to clobber him with.

“It was a punishment. You weren’t supposed to enjoy it.” He didn’t touch her, but his eyes were a caress itself, causing her nipples to pebble even harder. “Did it make you wet?”

“What?”

“I asked you if it made you wet.”

“I refuse to answer that question!”

“Have it your way, pet,” he replied as he turned and maneuvered her around until her legs were spread wide and he was lying between them. “You could have just fucking answered me, but
you
had to be stubborn, huh?” Damn, she had the prettiest damned pussy he’d ever seen. Her pussy was bare with not a single hair in sight, and even better, it was dripping wet. Her essence coated her thighs.

“I would give anything to touch your pussy right now. Do you know that?” His lips were just a breath away from her cunt.

“No, I didn’t.” But she wanted him to. She wanted to feel his long tongue stroke up and down her slit. She moaned as she arched up to his mouth, trying to make him touch her.

“Remember, this is punishment.” He sat up and pulled her with him. “When you receive a punishment from me, you will not get any pleasure from it.”

She nodded her understanding, but she’d get her pleasure later. She’d make sure of it. But what the hell, she could play his silly little games as well.

“What do you know about BDSM, Doms, and subs?” He stood up, as if he felt that she was too much temptation to sit next to at this point. She wondered if he wanted to strip her naked and eat her up as much as she wanted him to.

“I’ve read a lot of books, fiction mostly, and seen some movies, but I can let you know right now, you aren’t sticking needles through my breasts or my arms.”

She didn’t have a problem letting him know what her hard limits were—he appreciated that. “It’s okay, I don’t mess with needles. I prefer whips and floggers, torment, and my other, um, tools of the trade to needles.” He slid his blazer back on and asked, “Are there any other hard limits you want to disclose right now?”

“I don’t want anyone sewing me up down there,” she rushed out.

“What the hell have you been watching?” Shit, his stomach was turning at the mere thought of someone sewing up those pretty lips. “You have homework. I want you to think of a safe word, stay away from those sick videos, and make a list of both your soft and hard limits.”

“Okay,” she replied as she watched him. She was so much closer to getting to come. If only she could get him out the door.

“The proper response, pet, is ‘yes, sir’ or ‘yes, master.’” He seemed to wait for her to correct herself, and she did, even if it didn’t sound as sincere as it should have. “Catch.” He tossed her his cell phone, and asked for hers in return. “Plug your number in for me, and I’ll do the same for you.”

“What time will you be free tomorrow?” he asked as he handed Trista her cell back.

“We close early tomorrow, but I have to run some errands. I think I should be home by five, at the latest, five thirty.” She’d programed herself in as Sub Trista and wondered if he would get a laugh out of her joke.

“I’ll be here at six. I want you waiting for me naked at the front door. Do you understand?”

“Completely naked?” she asked, and at his nod, she replied, “Yes, sir.”

She watched as he smiled at her quick compliance. “What do you wear to work?”

“Business suits or dresses—no pants allowed.” She knew he wouldn’t understand the imitation she gave of her boss, Mr. O’Reilly, but she did it anyway. “Why?”

“I want you to go without your panties tomorrow.”

Oh crap! He was going to spank her again, she knew it, but there was no way she was going to work without her panties. On more than one occasion, Mr. Perv O’Reilly had been caught trying to look up the skirts of most of the librarians and volunteers. “No, sir, I cannot do that!”

“Excuse me? You’d best have a damned good reason for defying me yet again.”

“I have to shelve books, movies, and CDs. There are times, like when I’m in the children’s room, that I end up having to crawl on the floor. I have a leprechaun for a boss who likes to spend his time trying to feel all the female employees up and/or look up our dresses.” She finally stopped to take a breath. “So, not no, but hell no,
sir
.”

Reno was ready to go kick the “leprechaun’s” ass himself. All he needed was to know just which library she worked at. “Which one?”

“I only have one damned boss, sir, and I don’t know you well enough to tell you his name.” She placed her hands on her hips. “You might suggest his ass for a promotion or a raise, and quite honestly, I don’t think he needs either one!”

He stepped in front of her, still rigid, but understanding her point of view. They were new to this type of relationship. He had other ways to figure out what he wanted to know. “I’ll see you tomorrow, naked at that door.” He ruffled her hair then turned to leave. “Lock up after I go.”

“Yes, sir.” She followed him and locked up after he left. She went to her bedroom—she had a book that would just work to help her. She found her favorite scene and spread out on the sofa. She ran her fingers down to her cunt, and let her fingers lightly trace the wet, swollen tissues. She held the book in one hand and read as she began to tease her clit.

Her cell began to sing almost at once. “Shit,” she swore as she set the book down and grabbed her cell. “What?” Okay, so she was a little cranky—she needed to come so bad.

“Keep your hands and toys away from my pussy,” Reno demanded through the phone.

“What?”

“You’re still on punishment. Until you find a permanent Dom, your orgasms belong to me.” Hell, she could almost see him smiling through the damned phone. She’d kill him. She just knew it. “You can’t come until I give you permission to do so.”

“Dammit!” She switched the phone off, wishing that it had been an old-fashioned phone that she could have slammed down. Reno was sexy as hell, but he was a damned prick! Instead of carrying on with her plans, she sat down with her laptop and began to make her list.

Thanks to her little leprechaun of a boss, she’d spent most of their short day on her hands and knees, filing records from a hundred years ago. The red-haired troll had joyfully informed her that the people coming to the library would be so interested to know what their former patrons liked to read.

And of course, all those records were in
his
office. She’d had to walk around on her hands and knees like a dog for the majority of the day. She’d become so irate that she’d come close to taking a week’s worth of her vacation. If only she did have mob connections—the evil little leprechaun would take a long walk off of a short plank.

After work, she relaxed at the spa. Thankfully, the laser hair removal she’d had a while back prevented her from having to wax anything, but she enjoyed having a manicure and a pedicure. She’d also splurged and had a deep-tissue massage.

While being rubbed by the prettiest man she’d ever seen, she considered her and Reno’s conversation the day before. Not the dominance and submission parts, but the parts about her father and the Simones.

For as long as she’d lived under her parents’ roof, she’d been an outsider. While her sister had the prettiest clothes, her parents allowed her to wear the clothes the maid’s children had outgrown. Her room had been in the attic with no heat or air conditioning. When people had come over for dinner, she had been locked into her room. Most of her parents’ friends hadn’t even known that they had another daughter.

Arianna had been the light of their lives. Ari had been a beautiful baby who had turned into a gorgeous woman. While she was selfish, petty, and mean, her outward beauty had meant more to their parents. Arianna could do no wrong while Trista could do no right.

Her father, Satino, had been an accountant and had done very well as far as she could tell. They had lived in a huge house and had hired help. Her mother and sister always wore designer clothing. It seemed rather strange because he didn’t have that many clients, but she assumed the ones he had paid generously.

Her grandparents had led a more traditional life style in a smaller house and both had worked hard until their late sixties. Nonno had been a business man, and no, she’d never asked what business that was—some things were better left unknown. Nonna had been a caterer, serving the best Italian dishes this side of Italy. They’d tucked away their money and lived frugally until their retirement. Now, they traveled. Nonno had bought a motor home, and they traveled all over the United States.

As six o’clock neared, she gathered her needed supplies. Her list was sitting on the coffee table, her clothes were in her bedroom, and she was following the directions she’d found on the internet. After unlocking the door, she’d knelt on the floor with her head down, her legs spread, and her hands resting palm up.

* * * *

Reno had spoken with his captain, giving what little information he’d had about the Cangelosi family. Because of the distance between Trista and her family, neither man had thought it was prudent to keep up with Trista in terms of the investigation. The rest of the day had been spent interviewing a murder suspect who claimed that he couldn’t have killed all those women, twenty in total, because he was a lover, not a hater. What a load of shit.

Reno showered at the station before leaving. He’d packed the necessary tools needed for tonight and left them in his truck. There was no time to waste. He couldn’t wait to have her under his control again.

He wasn’t sure what her eating pleasures would be, but he called in a special order to the Paris Inn, a restaurant his youngest brother, Jackson, owned and operated. He hoped that she wasn’t a vegetarian because he’d ordered steaks and all the trimmings. Fingers crossed, he’d gotten something she’d like.

He pulled into her driveway wondering if she would be waiting for him naked. Somehow, he didn’t think she’d be as ready for her “training” as she claimed she would. Grabbing his “tool” bag and dinner, he left the truck and walked onto the porch. After a quick knock, he walked into the house at precisely 6:00 p.m.

His breath caught in his chest as he looked at her. She was perfect. She’d assumed the submissive position without being instructed, letting him see all her wonderful treasures. He placed his bag on the floor and the food on the coffee table then came to stand in front of her. “Very good, pet,” he praised as he held out a hand to help her up off the floor. “From your positioning, I assume that you completed your homework?”

“Yes, sir.” She so badly wanted to move her hands. He could see everything, or almost everything. Her body wasn’t perfect. She was a size twelve, not a zero like her sister. What if he didn’t like plump women? As her hands rose involuntarily, they were stopped by his.

“You have a beautiful body, and you shouldn’t worry about covering it.”

His eyes, she thought, looked so damned sincere that she had to believe him. She nodded and allowed him to lead her to the sofa.

“I brought dinner. I hope you like steak.”

“I love it when it’s cooked right!” She returned as she sat down.

“And how is cooked right?”

“Slap a Band-Aid on that sucker and bring it out!” She licked her lips and smiled at him. She bet the steak wouldn’t taste as good as he would.

“You’re in luck then, pet. My brother is the chef and refuses to cook steak any other way.” He handed her a plate, and they both dug in.

“This is really good!” she commented as she set her plate down. She’d eaten a bit but honestly was too nervous to eat a whole lot. She watched him as he ate and didn’t bother to hide her interest.

“I’ll make sure to tell Jackson. Did you make your list?”

“Yes, sir,” she replied as she reached over and picked it up. “Here you go.” She handed him the typed piece of paper. Most of her hard limits were things that she’d seen on those weird videos she’d watched. Maybe she shouldn’t call them weird—they were just too hardcore for her tastes.

“Are you sure you’re not interested in piercings?” he asked as he looked up from the list he was reading. She noticed his eyes were stuck on her breasts. “Your nipples would look even better pierced.”

“I have a needle phobia. No needles, sir.”

He chuckled. He could understand that. After all, he didn’t have any piercings at all. “We can work around that. Have you ever used nipple clamps?”