RockYourSoul (7 page)

Good.

But he wanted her down deeper.

Her legs spread wide, he slid his finger down her torso,
skimming over the intricate knotwork of ropes. He took his time, finding every
bit of exposed skin he could locate in order to torment her further.

When he slid his hand between her legs, he dipped two
fingers inside her pussy and watched her eyes go wild.
There’s what I’ve
been looking for. Inside you all the time, wasn’t it?
He finally had the
total control he needed to do what she’d asked of him.

Pleased with her progress, he set his palm against the ropes
he’d positioned over her clit and pushed. She gasped as his fingers slid deeper
into her slickness. Encouraged by her response, he stepped closer, fitting his
clothed body against her nude one.

“You make quite a picture tied in my ropes. So gorgeous and
utterly at my mercy. You came alive when I bound you. There’s no denying you
were meant to be under the hands of a skilled Dom.”

Her pussy clenched around his fingers. Such a hot,
responsive woman.

His cock screamed to be shoved inside her wet heat, buried
so deep he lost coherent thought. Too soon. This wouldn’t be a flash-in-the-pan
tie-up session. He was in for the long haul.

His free hand wrapped around the back of her neck, tugging
her mouth closer to his as he continued to thrust his fingers into her cunt. He
purposefully kept their mouths close, just touching as a quiet chant began
spilling from her lips. He swallowed those words, using them as fuel to drive
them both higher.

Her body went rigid, her hands balling into tight fists. He
contemplated the repercussions of severing contact with her completely to stand
back and simply watch her orgasm. But he wanted to be there, holding her as she
experienced the very first release he allowed. He wanted to experience the power
of the moment with her as he drove her over the precipice.

“Show me why I should keep you as my submissive, California.
Prove yourself worthy.”

She inhaled sharply moments before her body tightened around
his fingers. He drove up into her with such force, she shifted forward onto her
toes, her head falling forward onto his shoulder. Her keening wail percussed
against his body, the sound of it awakening his instincts. He ignored the
arousal unfurling inside him, knowing this moment was about
her
getting
off.

His name whispered past those still-swollen lips, a quiet
pledge that caressed his skin and offered a sliver of promise of what was to
come. She screamed as the orgasm fractured her. He didn’t stop moving, his
fingers still thrusting frantically inside her as he clutched her tightly
against him.

Her release sent tremors through her entire body, the
shockwaves pouring into him and signaling there was something different about
this woman. He would examine it later as right now all he wanted to do was revel
in her glory.

He held her for a few minutes, her breathing fast and
furious as her heart continued to race. After a few minutes, her body sagged
against the ropes. He worked to untie them as quickly and as safely as
possible.

When he finished, he pulled her into his lap as he sat in
his overstuffed chair. She curled around him, her breathing regulating as she
came down off her high.

Dear God, I’m going to enjoy the hell out of training
this one.

“You made it.” Ryan pushed open the screen door, gesturing
for Beth to enter his modest cabin. He set his hand on the small of her back,
the soft fabric of her tee-shirt tickling the pads of his fingers as he guided
her to the small kitchen in the far corner of the house.

“So what uber-eighties tee do you have on today? Allison
told me she’d noticed you wear a lot of retro shirts. Or at least she’s noticed
them every time you come into the coffeehouse. Apparently she’s made it a bit
of a game trying to guess what you’ll wear next.” He ignored her puzzled look
as he looked closer at the gold foil bird and group of three triangles on her
shirt. “I’m not familiar with the one you’re wearing.”

“It’s the Tri-Force from the Legend of Zelda. Nintendo game
about a little dude who needs to rescue a princess.”

He moved around her when she stopped because he needed to
check on the food he’d left on the burner for most of the day. “I think I’m
going to have to write that one down.” He sampled the beef stew, pleased with
his choice of herbs and spices to complement the meat.

“What is all of this?”

“Dinner. I did invite you out here to eat.” Ryan stirred the
contents of the pot, grinning as he reached for two bowls he’d stacked next to
the sink to move them closer. When he turned, he found her staring at him, her
mouth slightly open. Chuckling, he nudged her with his elbow as a signal for
her to follow him. “What’s the matter?”

She blew out a breath, shoving her hands into the pockets of
her well-worn jeans. “Not really used to men actually cooking something. At
least not ones like you.”

“Ones like me, huh?” He nearly laughed at her confession.
“Oh I get it. You had this idea built up in your mind that because I’m a Dom, I
can’t cook for shit. Maybe because I tied you up and got you off last week at
the warehouse, toe-curling orgasms are all I want from you. Or since I live out
in the middle of nowhere and build some of the most sought-after boats in the
world, that I have more money than God. Given that, I should be able to have
someone else cook for me. Maybe even my sub.”

She winced at his sharp tone, shuffling her feet and tugging
on her shirt. “Maybe I should leave.”

He gestured to the compact table, pulling out a chair.
“Sit.” He handed her a glass of red wine, pouring one for himself before
joining her at the table. “I spent a hell of a lot of time building up my
career so people automatically made some of those very same assumptions. They
leave me alone that way. I don’t have more money than God by the way—well,
scratch that, I do. God doesn’t have any money.”

“Thought about it a lot, have you?” A smile turned up her
lips as she sipped from the glass he’d handed her. “This is excellent wine.”

“Thank you. Used to get real lonely on my long road trips
when I first started out. So there was a lot to think about.”

“Couldn’t use your money to have someone else drive you
around so you could jack off to satellite porn?”

His glass stopped midway to his mouth. “Thought about it a
lot, have you?”

She smirked. “I’ve never had occasion where someone else
drove me around.”

“No, I meant—” He fisted his hand, gesturing in the air in
front of his hips to simulate a hand job.

Her eyes went wide in shock before she burst out laughing.
“No.”

“Really? Maybe if you did…”

“You’re a real pervert, you know that?” She laughed again.

The melody of the sound made his insides tie in a knot. He
understood why she spent her time on the radio. He knew perhaps better than
anyone you could affect someone with something as simple as your voice. And she
sure as hell had affected him.

“Hey, you’re the one who brought up hand jobs, not me.” And
now that she had, he was finding it impossible not to think about how her hands
and mouth had felt wrapped around his cock.

To give himself a distraction, he rose from the table and
moved to sniff the hearty aroma of the stew again. “I think dinner is just
about ready.”

“I’m not sure I should stay.”

She started to rise as he set a bowl on the table in front
of her. His hand closed over her shoulder, gently pushing her back into the
seat. She was skittish. It was his job to soothe those ruffled nerves even if
she didn’t completely understand what the problem was. He changed his tone of
voice because he knew she would respond to that.

“California, if you don’t sit down and eat something I’m
going to tie you to the chair and feed you myself. Now
eat
.”

Her gaze automatically fell to the floor, nodding as she
slipped her legs under the table. Satisfied she’d stay put, he refreshed her
wine before sliding into the seat across the table. He watched her blow the
steam drifting from the spoonful of stew. Pleasure filtered into her expression
as she chewed. When he was satisfied she would continue to eat, he dug into his
own bowl.

They both ate quietly for a few minutes before Beth broke
the silence. “Can I ask a question?”

“Of course.”

“Why do you call me that? California, I mean. I meant to ask
sooner, but I haven’t had a chance since Joe called to tell me I had the job.”

Ah, that. He took a few more bites before answering. Some
would say his reasoning was silly, but he’d stopped caring what others thought
a long time again. “You were listening to
California Girls
when you came
out here the first night. In fact, listening is probably the wrong word. I’m
surprised my boat didn’t fall apart from the volume. Don’t think I’ve ever heard
someone listen to surf rock that loud before.”

“Gotta love The Beach Boys. Sorry.” When she blushed, he
didn’t think he’d ever seen anything so beautiful. He made a mental note to
make her do it more often. “My grandfather restores old cars and I used to go
cruising with him. Nothing like a little old-school American muscle on a
Saturday night. Add in a little surfing music and that’s how I spent the
majority of my weekends in high school. The appreciation is what made me decide
to hunt down someone who took the time to admire hard work as much as he did.”

The charming slice of her past made him wonder what other
secrets she had to hide. He was going to enjoy spending the time necessary to
find out those things.

“Can I ask how you got into this business anyway? It’s not
something you see too much of anymore. Don’t most builders just use machines
now?”

“Some do. But the care of a handcrafted boat is something
most sailors admire. Which is exactly what drove me to the profession.” Most of
all, he needed something where everyone just left him alone. “I’ve always had a
passion for creating things from nothing. Seemed natural enough. What about
you?”

She ate a few bites before answering. “Typical high school
teen. Went to college, majored in Slacking Off 101 mostly because I didn’t know
what I wanted to do with my life. And mostly because college guys didn’t really
take well to a girl swooping in and showing them up on the first day of shop
class. I liked to tinker with my hands, restoring old machinery, fixing
anything electronic. Comes from working on cars, like I said. Guess that’s why
I took to the soundboards so well. First station I worked at let me earn some
extra money on the side maintaining their equipment. That’s about it. Nothing
special.”

“Nothing special? I plan to show you how wrong you are.” She
choked on a mouthful of stew as he smiled. He refilled their wineglasses. “No
captain of the cheer squad, homecoming queen drama that pushed you to become
the strong, determined woman you are today?”

“Oh no, I don’t like performing for people.”

It was his turn to blink a few times in surprise. The
statement was something he understood given the past she described in regards
to BDSM, but not another facet of her life. “You don’t like performing, yet
your voice filters through hundreds, maybe even thousands, of speakers on a
daily basis. You’re very much out there performing for people.”

She shrugged. “I don’t think of being on the radio that way.
It’s just me in my booth. Rest of the world doesn’t exist. Besides,
cheerleaders are just vapid airheads. High school wasn’t the same for you?”

Ryan crossed the kitchen with his empty bowl, taking hers
when she brought it to him. “I married the head cheerleader.”

She froze. He wondered what she was more shocked about—the
cheerleader comment or the fact he’d been married. Judging by her expression,
she also wondered if she’d stepped on any toes with their arrangement.

Her unspoken apology saturated the air. “I don’t begrudge
you for the opinion of cheerleaders. When Lisa was sixteen, she was flaky and
irresponsible. She grew out of it, just so you know.” He stepped closer,
brushing his thumb over her chin. “And before you stick that foot in that
pretty mouth of yours again, wondering if you’re causing some kind of interference—I’m
a widower.”

Her expression changed, sorrow painting those beautiful
eyes. “Sorry to hear.”

He dried his hands on the towel, dropping it to the counter
beside the sink. His intention hadn’t been to make her pity him. He leaned
against the counter. “What’s going to happen when you find out I was a father
too?”

Utter surprise was an expression that looked good on her.
Nearly as much as extreme arousal. Liking it, he leaned forward to plant a
quick kiss on her lips before turning away to tidy up the rest of the kitchen.
He slapped a damp towel on the basin to dry when he finished, pulling down the
arms of his sweater. Her surprised expression was still in place as he turned
around.

“Are you all right?

“Yes. I think so. You just…caught me a little off guard.”

“You’re probably wondering how in the world I can order you
to sit down using your pet name with one breath and then tell you I was a
husband and father with the next.” She nodded slowly. “My apologies. Not my
intention at all. I really just wanted you to come here tonight. No scene. No
sex. I thought we could talk and get to know one another a little better. Build
up a good foundation of trust outside of the D/s relationship in a very casual
environment. Telling you I was married and had a family is part of that. You
need to know about me just as much as I need to know about you.”

“I know. I understand that part. Do you have something
stronger than the wine?”

“Sure. How about we head into town, pay a visit to Brogans?”

She was quiet for the entire ride but seemed to find the
courage to speak when they pulled into a parking space in the lot behind the
building. “Can I ask who names a bar Brogans?”

Ryan snorted as he shut off the engine. “My brother hears
you call it a bar and you’re on your own.”

“I’m serious.”

Ryan gave a soft chuckle as he opened the door, gesturing
for her to walk with him. “When our parents passed and we inherited the empty
building, Sam and James lost a bet with me. After we decided to make a few
changes, I got to name the restaurant anything I wanted.”

“And the sign? What explains the picture?”

He glanced up at the image of a large breasted woman wearing
a corset barely containing the large globes. The sight of it caused him to
smile. “Nothing explains that picture. Just James and his sick, twisted sense
of humor.”

“He’s an artist?”

“Engineer. Don’t ask.” He waved away the question. “James is
my youngest brother. Lives out in Salt Lake City. I don’t understand half the
shit he does.” James’ choices weren’t for him to analyze and understand. He’d
given up on that long ago too, especially when he’d thrown away all his rights
when he’d signed over custody of his daughter Tessa to Sam. The memory burned a
hole in his gut, but he wasn’t interested in revisiting that debacle.

“Anyway, our mom was a huge fan of romance novels when we
were growing up. Most of the time we’d make fun of the woman on the front just
begging to be kissed.”

He still remembered those tattered novels scattered around
in the living room and even stuffed into drawers and small alcoves so she could
read whenever the mood struck. His mother had been a lover of all things
romance. The love clearly showed in the long years of marriage to his father
and the fact she’d instilled love and devotion in all of her sons.

A shout went up as they entered. Ryan waved to the crowd as
he guided her to the high, polished bar. The customers at the wood counter
shoved together to make room for the couple. Ryan tapped his knuckles on the
bar in signal to the bartender. A barrel-chested blond wearing a black tee
emblazoned with the business’s name across the front made his way over to them.
A large dragon tattoo wound its way down his right arm, the tail curling
protectively around his wrist.

“How’s business treating you, Sam?”

“Can’t complain. Who’s your company?”

“Beth Lawson, this is my eldest brother, Beckett Flynn.
Co-owner of Brogans. Beth took Joe’s job at the radio station,” he said in
answer to the question he knew was already forming.

“Didn’t you just call him Sam?”

Sam nodded, smirking. “Sam’s a nickname. Growing up, I was
hooked on a television show,
Quantum Leap
. Scientist created a device to
time travel and his name was Samuel Beckett. Family slapped me with the
nickname ’cause I watched it so damn much and it just sort of stuck.”

Ryan had forgotten about the amusing piece of their family
history. He’d gotten so used to calling him Sam, he hadn’t thought about the
reason why in years. “What was it with you and that damn show anyway?”

“You wouldn’t know true adventure and excitement if it bit
you on the ass. Can I get you two something to drink? Beer for you,” Sam said
as he popped the cap on a bottle he pulled from the cooler under the bar and
pointed a finger at Beth. “Let me guess, something frilly like a chocolate
martini. They were all the rage this past winter. A few of the snow bunnies
kept coming in to order them when they decided to leave the lodge.”