Soul Rest: A Knights of the Board Room Novel (11 page)

BOOK: Soul Rest: A Knights of the Board Room Novel
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He was watching her with a bemused fascination, and she colored a little as a result.

“Most women come here to shop.”

“Well.” She lifted a shoulder. “I have a limited budget. Chick-fil-A nuggets and watching the carousel works for me.”

“So how many times have you ridden it?”

She shifted her gaze back to the carousel. “Never.”

“You get nauseous? Afraid of horses?”

She elbowed him and he curved that arm around her again, squeezing her. “So why haven’t you ridden it?”

She shrugged and he gave her a more thorough look. “You get quiet about the things that matter,” he said. “If it just scares you, you shoot your mouth off, try to piss me off.”

“Does it work?”

“You’ll find out.” He touched her mouth. “Tell me why you haven’t ever ridden it. That’s a command, Celeste.”

She had an interest in exploring a Dom/sub thing with him, she didn’t deny it, though they hadn’t really defined it further than that. Yet when he ordered her, something as simple as giving him information felt much more significant. One small step toward that place where she would want him to demand everything from her. He had dark rings around his golden-brown irises. That made his expression of authority sharper, more direct. More unsettling.

A ripple of panic went through her, but in contrast, his touch gentled, stroking her lips until they parted. “Don’t get smart-mouthed and avoid it. Just tell me, darlin’.”

She made a face at him, but relented. “On the carousel, everyone is with someone or being watched by someone on the ground. I’ve never had anyone to ride it with…or to watch me ride it. It’s isolating. Like being a person in a crowded room that no one can see or hear.”

“So you sit on the sidelines and watch. Which lets you feel more in control of your isolation.” He didn’t wait for her answer. Instead, he drew her to her feet, handed her the coat she’d folded over the back of the bench. Reaching into his coat pocket, he pulled something out in his closed hand, then put that hand over hers. After he transferred what felt like a ball of vinyl fabric and a couple marbles into her palm, he folded her fingers securely over them.

“I’m going to go put your leftovers in my truck. While I do that, go to the ladies’ room and put this on. I’ll meet you back here.”

“What is it?” He wouldn’t let her open her hand. Instead he tightened his grip.

“You said I owed you panties. I brought you some.”

Chapter Four

She didn’t open her hand until she was safely in a bathroom stall. Now she stared at a vinyl thong. What had felt like marbles were two bullet vibrators sewn under the slick material, positioned to stimulate a woman’s anus and clit.

They must be remote-controlled or clap on, clap off, because shaking or pressing didn’t result in a reaction. She waited for her mind to tell her
no way, no how
, but instead it pulled her back to the way her whole body had lifted into his hand when he pinched the muscle in her shoulder. As well as how her pulse had fluttered when he said “That’s a command, Celeste.”

She slid out of her leggings and underwear, tucked the latter in the pocket of her coat. The thong had adjustable Velcro fasteners on the sides, helping the bullets fit snugly right where they were supposed to go.

The idea that he could turn it on at any time, that she’d just given that control to him, should have alarmed her, and it did. But she had another reaction to it as well. As she donned the leggings again and reached inside them to adjust the panties, she couldn’t resist sliding her fingers down over her pussy to stroke. Her hips twitched and she had to do it again a few more times, until she was leaning against the side of the stall, hips moving in a coital rhythm.

God, she was masturbating in a public bathroom stall. Forcing herself to stop, she readjusted her short skirt over the leggings and put the coat over her arm. When she came out of the stall, she bit her lip at the stimulation walking created. It might be easy to know where to position the bullet against a woman’s clit, but how had he known which size panty to choose to ensure the other one was firmly against her rim?

She’d trained herself to think in five parts; who, what, when, where and why—or how—so her mind went straight to the other night, his hands all over her ass, his mouth between her legs.

She’d have to issue a personal retraction about a man’s inability to think while eating.

Emerging from the bathroom, she discovered him waiting for her. The hallway continued past the men’s room and another twenty feet to an emergency exit, and he was leaning against the wall at that end, rather than at the end of the hallway that led back into the mall. When he remained in place, that and his expression told her he wanted her to come to him. As she walked, the bullets were rubbing against clit and rim, arousing her further. It was reflected in a more sinuous body language she couldn’t help. Her hips rolled in a pendulum sway, and her nipples were stiff against the thin padding of her bra. A swift glance down confirmed it, but it wasn’t necessary. The flare in his eyes as he focused on that area told her the same thing.

When she reached him, he took her hand, turned them so his body shielded her from the view of the bathrooms. He bent down, and her face was already lifting, her lips parting eagerly. He didn’t have to coax her lips open this time. She met him wet heat against wet heat, and when his hand slid beneath the elastic waistbands of her skirt and leggings, he found the bullet and seated it more firmly against her anus. As he was confirming it was placed where he wanted it, his grip pressed her mound against his thigh. If there was any doubt about where that clit bullet was, her gasp into his mouth, the buck of her hips against his hold, rubbing herself against him, verified it. Her hands fell to the waistband of his jeans, hooked there through the folds of his shirt to steady herself. His erection was against her abdomen. She was a blink away from climbing up his body to bring their two sexes together.

He broke the kiss then, easing her back down to her heels. When she started to push back, wanting more, he shifted his grip to her shoulder, sending another shot of sensation right to her core with that pinch move.

“You like that, hmm?”

“I…yes.” She drew a shuddering breath, realizing she’d ramped out of control. “I think this is too fast. I don’t know what you’re planning to do, but—”

He tipped up her chin. “I’m going to ride the carousel with you, Celeste. When we’re done with that, I’m going to take you home. Your home. I’m going to have your sweet ass in your bed, on your kitchen table and then on your couch. Since I plan to take my time with all of that, when I finish, it will probably be time for the late-night sports recap.”

“You’re pretty serious about that.”

“I try not to miss it.”

“I don’t know if I want you to come to my place.”

“I know. It’s hard, letting someone see your personal space. Let’s go ride the carousel.”

He took her back up the hall, one arm around her back, his hand curved over her hip, stroking. Though he was no longer touching the bullets, wherever he touched her seemed connected to them, currents of sensation running through her like water down her body in the shower.

The walk to the carousel seemed long. She didn’t talk, too aroused to do more than lick her lips and bite back moans. She’d latched onto his side with her other hand and now he lifted it between them, nuzzling her skin. When he brought them to a halt a few feet away from the automated box where they would pay for their ride, he kissed her fingers, his nostrils flaring.

“Did you play with yourself in the bathroom, Celeste? Did you make yourself come?”

She flushed, realizing she’d transferred her arousal onto her fingers. “No. I just touched myself for a second.”

“Have you masturbated since you saw me last, darlin’?” His low timbre vibrated through her body, all the way down to those throbbing points. The man could drawl that endearment like a threat. The kind of threat that sent a shiver through a woman and made her want him to carry it out, whatever it was.

“Yes.”

“How many times?”

She flushed deeper and would have looked away, but he caught her chin, bent and put his lips over hers, then moved that wicked mouth right up to her ear. “Tell me how many times, Celeste. How many times did you rub your pussy, use your vibrator, fuck yourself with it, thinking about me? About what I’d make you do next time you saw me?”

“Twice,” she lied.

His arm around her constricted. Setting his teeth below her ear, he bit, teasing her with his tongue. She jerked as the vibrators came to life, humming against her clit and sensitive rim. “I can turn these up and make you come right here,” he murmured. “Hard enough you’ll have to scream.”

As if to prove it, they hummed at a higher frequency that accelerated her toward that peak. “Stop, please stop,” she whispered, frantic. “Leland, please.”

It stopped so abruptly she had to hang on to him for balance. But he was relentless. “The truth, darlin’. How many times, when and where?”

“Nine times. At bedtime every night, once when I woke up past midnight on Wednesday. Three times in the shower. And once in the park, when I was eating my lunch. I put my coat over my lap so anyone driving by wouldn’t know.”

“Moved your hand nice and slow to stroke your cunt?”

“Yes. Oh…” He pressed another kiss to her mouth, almost chaste, but she was so revved up, she shuddered from it. “Leland…”

“Do you know why I waited for you down the hall from the restroom? I wanted to see the way you move when you know I’m watching you. When you’re thinking about all the things I’m making you do that you fight but won’t refuse.”

Fortunately, he didn’t require a response to that. He tucked her against his side, holding her there as he removed his credit card from his wallet, swiped it to pay for two tokens. An older black woman with a name tag that said
Betty
waited at the gate counter to take the tokens. Celeste kept her face averted, sure that she looked obviously close to a climax.

“Don’t get too many adults riding for their own sake.” Celeste heard the smile in Betty’s voice. “Wish we had more.”

“I can’t imagine anyone passing up the chance to ride it with their sweetheart,” Leland responded. “How often do you bring yours here to do that?”

The woman chuckled. Celeste was sure Leland’s warm tone had given Betty a head-to-toe tingle, the way it would a red-blooded woman of any age. It kept attention off of her, which she appreciated, but she still had to give him crap about it.

“Sweetheart?” she muttered as he guided her along the outside of the carousel.

He gave her a discreet pinch on her ass. “Which one would you like to ride?”

With arousal beating between her legs like a marching band, that question had a no-brainer answer. Pushing the hormonal response down, she pointed. “The horse between the rabbit and the cat.”

The steed had the body of a blood bay, though the dark face and nose suggested a roan. He had his head tossed up in fiery defiance, the ears laid back.

“One with attitude,” Leland observed. “I’m not surprised. No docile mares for my girl.” He lifted her up on the platform and then steadied her as she put a foot in the stirrup, swung up and over. As she landed, she bit back a gasp. His eyes glinted with male satisfaction as he discreetly eased her forward with a hand on her hip. “Press your clit against the saddle pommel. Heels down, so your ass is pushed into the saddle. That’s the way you stay.”

Leland uncoiled the strap belted around the pole in front of the pommel and wrapped it around her hips. “The rules say everyone must wear a seatbelt, no exceptions.” When he cinched it in one decisive movement, she swallowed a sensual noise at the provocative restraint that put her more firmly against the pommel. He hooked his thumb in the strap, his fingers curved loosely over her ass as he put his hand on the pommel again, under the coat.

“Not a twitch,” he said. He spoke softly, but the look in his eye said it was a direct order. She held his gaze, not sure she dared to breathe.

Others were coming onto the carousel. Kids, teenagers, adult couples. Fortunately, none of them decided to ride the cat or the rabbit this round. The cat made sense, because Leland was standing between the cat and the horse, and there wasn’t a lot of space there, such that his large body was against both animals.

“I’d like to touch the rabbit.”

She bit her lip, surprised she’d spoken the desire aloud, but when he nodded, she leaned over. Despite the hold of the belt, he shifted, putting his arm around her waist to be sure she stayed secure.

She ran her hand up one long ear, her thumb sliding along the smooth inside, down to the rabbit’s brow. “I’ve always wanted to do that,” she said. “I love his ears.”

What was it about him that she’d say these childlike things aloud, things she wouldn’t think of saying to a date? Maybe because he wasn’t a date. He was something different, something that had her opening up in odd, disturbing ways.

She straightened, making a pretense of studying the other riders, until Leland’s hand moved under the coat. His thumb glided down her pubic mound to the clit bullet. As he made it roll and twitch against her, she bore down on the stirrups as he’d directed, and the reaction was electric. God, there was no way she could stop herself from coming if he did what she was worried he would do when the ride started.

“Leland, I don’t want to…be embarrassed.” Though her body didn’t seem to give a rat’s ass what she wanted. It just wanted to release.

He stroked her back from nape to waist, then gripped the belt again, fingers caressing the upper rise of her buttocks. “I won’t let that happen, Celeste. This is for me, not for anyone else. I tend to be a selfish Master and pretty damn possessive. Your pleasure belongs to me and me alone.”

It was the first time he’d referred to himself as that. He’d also just stated in unequivocal terms that he saw her as his submissive. A step closer from theoretical to actual. She should be worried about that, should be thinking about limits and safe word discussions, because that was the smart thing to do, the right thing to do. Never mind that she’d felt safe around him before Jai had told her he could be trusted. She felt so safe with him, it was terrifying, because safety made surrender almost inevitable. She couldn’t think of safe words when her mind was full of what he might do to her when they were behind closed doors

“We need to stop this. Stop it. I don’t want this. I want to get down.”

A shrill ringing like a school bell signaled the beginning of the ride. She gripped the pole as the horse started to rise. Leland adjusted for the horse’s movement, but the tall horse only rose a foot or so, allowing him to keep that steadying hand on her backside and the other less steadying hand under the coat, on the pommel. When he moved the hand from her back to his pocket, she didn’t have time to protest. The vibrators started humming again, the sensation rippling over her cunt and deep into her ass. She clutched the pole.

Up…up… Down…down… As she came down each time, his thumb would press against the clit bullet, work it in circles. Whenever her hips tried to jerk in coital response, the hand he’d brought back to her hip would tighten on her and the belt, keeping her still. Like roaring surf, the sensations drowned out everything else, the carousel becoming a blur of lights, sounds, childish laughter. The calliope music that could only be heard when on the carousel because of the outside mall noise played its plinking tune. She inhaled the smell of popcorn and cookies in the food court, Leland’s peppermint and wood aroma, his flesh that she needed to taste. She wanted to bite him as he drove into her, leave marks on him the way he’d left on her shoulder.

“Oh…no. Oh…help…”

Her desperate whisper was lost in the noise and sound. She fought for control as the climax starting to sweep through her, her pussy and rim contracting and throbbing against the bullets. She held her forehead hard against the cool pole, her eyes shut, head down. Just as she was afraid she wasn’t going to be able to stop a scream from ripping from her throat, the vibration stopped. The climax stuttered and hummed through her body. Aside from a few seizure-like twitches, it made self-control more attainable, but left her needing so much more. Her wild eyes found his face, saw how closely he was studying her. His expression was back to being unreadable. Not distant. Just in charge.

When the carousel stopped, he slid an arm around her waist, pulled her off the horse. She had to rely on his strength to guide her to the ground, because her knees were too wobbly. Her fingers trailed along the glittering rhinestones embedded in her mount’s side, the purple and teal embellishments on his saddle. Leland didn’t ask her where she wanted to go, didn’t speak to her at all. She was barely cognizant of the time it took them to walk through the mall and head out to his vehicle. He drove a dark blue pickup truck with tinted windows. Other than that, “shiny” was the only word her keen reporter’s mind could muster as he opened the passenger door and boosted her into the seat.

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