Still (9 page)

Read Still Online

Authors: Ann Mayburn

Tags: #Romance, #Contemporary, #Long Slow Tease, #Book 1, #Adult

BOOK: Still
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Damn, if she’d ordered him to close his eyes he might have been able to sneak a look, but when she said she was trusting him all the fight went out of him. Cloth slipped over skin, barely audible over the fizz of the bubbles.

Her delicate hand touched his shoulder and he almost looked but caught himself. She shifted and he imagined her slipping her underwear off, naked and inches away from him. Fuck, he wanted to look, wanted to see if the curls guarding her sex were the same color as the hair on her head, wanted to see if she was as wet for him as he was hard for her. His cock ached but he didn’t dare move to adjust himself.

A moment later her touch left his shoulder and water sloshed as she slid into the tub.

“You can open your eyes now.”

To his dismay the bubbles fully covered her, leaving nothing but her head exposed. She grinned at him and he smiled back, thankful for a break in the tension between them. “Do you want me to leave?”

“No. I want to talk with you. I’m assuming that since you’re here you wish to become my submissive for a month’s time?”

“Yeah. I-uh, yeah. I guess. But that stuff we talked about last night still applies. I don’t want you treating me like your bitch in front of other people.”

“Eloquent as always, Callahan.” She pointed to the sink. “Open the first drawer and you’ll find my hairbrush. Bring it to me.”

He did as she asked, conscious of her eyes on him, teasing his skin almost like a physical touch. When he returned with her hairbrush the heat in her gaze seared him. He went to hand her the hairbrush but she shook her head. “No, I want you to do it. Put a towel down on the floor and kneel behind me.”

After kneeling behind her he hesitated. “I don’t really know how to brush long hair.”

“Just do small, gentle strokes. Work out any tangles with your fingers.”

“Okay.”

She leaned her head back on the curved edge of the tub and let out a contented sigh as he began to slowly work the brush through her hair, small tugs that moved her slightly. “Have you ever been in a relationship with BDSM elements before?”

“No.” He put the brush over to the side and concentrated on untangling a snarl. “I mean I’ve thought about it, but I always pictured myself being in charge.”

“Hmmm.” She lazily drifted her hand through the water, swirling the bubbles.

“What about you?”

“Yes. I’ve been into the lifestyle pretty much as soon as I learned about it.”

He paused in his brushing. “Why do you like it?”

Her hand in the water stilled, then resumed its slow swirls. “It’s complicated and hard to put into words.”

“Nice evasion, Doc.”

She snorted. “It helps me to clear away everything from my mind, all the garbage that clutters our thoughts every moment of the day. When I’m deep into a scene with my submissive we are the only things in the universe. Two bright candles burning through the darkness.” She gave a wistful sigh. “I can’t explain the feeling of connection that I get from Dominance and submission any more than I could try to explain color to a blind person. It is one of those things you have to experience for yourself. I can say I believe it is one of the most profound connections that two human beings can make.”

“And you want to experience it with me? Why me? I mean look at you, you could have pretty much any man you wanted. Why me?”

“Because I trust you, Wyatt. You are a good man down to your bones and that is something hard to find in these modern times. If we had lived in the Middle Ages you would have been a knight. I can trust you to keep me safe.”

Pride, something he hadn’t felt in a long time, filled his chest. “You know I’d never hurt you, Doc.”

“I do.” She winced when the brush got caught in a tangle. “At least not on purpose.”

Something about her tone caught his attention, a hint of pain that pinged off his radar. “Has someone hurt you before?”

“Callahan, no one gets through this world without a little pain. It is part of what shapes us, what makes us appreciate what we have, makes us fight for the good things in this life.”

An eloquent answer, but not the full truth. He let it go, for now, still glowing from the knowledge that this extraordinary woman wanted him. “So you’ve had submissives before? I mean, like guys you dated.”

“Yes.”

The sorrow in that one word made him pause.

“Don’t stop, Callahan.” She rested her head against the back of the tub and from this angle he could see her eyes were closed.

Unexpected jealousy twisted his stomach at the thought of her being intimate with other men. He knew it was stupid, fuck he’d been with more than his fair share of willing females, but an unexpected possessive streak made him want to erase the thought of any other man except him from her mind.

He needed to get a grip.

And, motherfucker, he could use about a dozen cold beers right now. His mouth was suddenly parched and he ran his fingers through the softness of her hair, searching for tangles while battling his craving. He wanted her more than he’d ever wanted anyone, and the fact that she already had that kind of control over him was unsettling. He could all too easily see himself falling in love with Sapphire, and he didn’t know if he could take the inevitable rejection when she found out how fucked up he was. Not many women could deal with men who had flashbacks in the middle of the mall, scaring the crap out of a bunch of kids and embarrassing himself and his sister.

“Doc, can you lift your neck up so I can get the hair at the bottom?”

She did as he asked and he was treated to the sight of her smooth shoulders. “Domina.”

“What?”

“You will address me as Domina, or Ma’am, or Mistress.”

“Seriously?” He rubbed the bridge of his nose, trying to stave off the hangover headache. “I’ll go with Domina, if that’s okay with you.”

“I rather like the way you say that.”

“What am I called?”

“Mine.”

He grinned and gave her hair a brisk brush, the slight curls now a soft fuzz. “That goes both ways, you know. If we’re gonna do this, I don’t want to have to worry about some other sub being kept chained to the basement floor.”

“Trust me when I say that even though I would never do that for moral and ethical reasons, I seriously do not have the energy to cope with two subs. You’re more than enough for a dozen Dominas to try to handle.”

His cock twitched at the thought of more than one woman commanding him and then swelled as he imagined Michelle kissing some vague female while he ate his Domina’s pussy. “You aren’t going to share me with other Doms, are you?”

“Of course not.” She raised her hand, water running down her skin and giving it an almost pearlescent sheen. “Now take off your shirt.”

He froze, not wanting to show her what he’d done, how he’d marked himself in her memory. It was something she’d said in passing once, a comment that could have been taken as a joke, but he’d sensed a sincerity to her words. More than that, he’d seen the flush of desire as she’d talked with one of the nurses about a man with pierced nipples, how it was one of the sexiest things on earth. If she saw the hoops going through his nipples she would know instantly why he had them.

“I’m, um, I’m cold.”

She stilled, then turned her head and motioned to him. “Come here.”

“What?”

“Come here. In the water. I want you kneeling in front of me.”

He hesitated, torn between wanting to dive in and run away. Why the fuck was he afraid of showing her? It was no big deal, really. He’d just play it off.

“Callahan, come here.”

The authority in her tone had him moving before he knew it. The warm water swirled around his pant leg, making the wet, worn denim cling to his skin. He knelt before her, willing himself to keep his gaze on her face. Considering how absolutely amazing she looked right now he didn’t think that would be a problem.

The warm water had leant a flush to her cheeks and her hair hung down her shoulders, smooth and silken, if a bit frizzy. But he kinda liked the frizz. It turned her from an unapproachable goddess into something warmer, more inviting. The water sloshed against his waist as she moved forward, sleek hints of her form showing through the bubbles, tantalizing glimpses of a body more beautiful than a Texas sunset.

When she rose to her knees, he immediately looked away, not wanting to give her any reason to stop. Just being close to her had always made his dick hard. To be close enough to smell her warm skin was the most exquisite torture. Her slender fingers curled beneath the edge of his shirt. Ever so slowly, she lifted the fabric from him, pausing to run a nail over his torso, to trace the line of hair leading from his navel to his chest. Before she got to his nipples he moved, jerking the shirt out of her hands and removing it himself with a violent motion.

Instead of recoiling from him she remained perfectly still. When he looked at her out of the corner of his eye he found her gaze riveted on his chest, her heat-softened lips parted in a silent gasp. A trail of bubbles slowly coasted down the delicate slope of her upper chest, his gaze riveted on her as the foam slowly inched down the plump curve of her full breast, stopping before it slid off completely and revealed her to him.

She reached out and ran her fingertip over each gold ring piercing his nipples. “When did you get them done?”

“After I got back.”

She made a little humming sound and played with the small stones at the center of each ring. “Are those star sapphires?”

He cleared his throat, and shifted, wanting to touch her, to taste her to have her do something, anything besides that light touch that aroused him more than most women’s kisses. Still, he hesitated at telling her the truth, of opening himself to ridicule or even worse, understanding. It would be even more embarrassing if she knew he got them pierced two days after she’d told him about her kink.

“No idea. Just liked the color.” His words sounded lame even to himself.

She leaned forward and he tensed with anticipation, every nerve in his body on fire. When her full lips wrapped around his right nipple he groaned. He went to touch her and she nipped at his chest. “Hands behind your back.”

Struggling against himself, against his urge to fuck this woman who so obviously wanted him, he clasped his hands and endured the delicate flick of her tongue against first one nipple, and then the other. Her slow torment of his sensitive flesh coupled with the ball-tightening feeling of her breasts rubbing his ribs as she leaned closer. She rested her face against his chest and made a happy sound that was almost like a purr.

“Wyatt, you remembered my favorite thing on a man. Now, you can pretend that this was just a random action, that you just happened to pick blue star sapphires to adorn yourself, or you could tell me the truth.” She nipped him again and her voice took on a wicked edge. “As they say, 'the truth shall set you free'.”

He clenched his hands together behind his back, every nerve in his body yelling at him to grab her, take her, show her how much he could please her, how he could eat her little pussy better than any man she’d ever had. He wanted to fuck her, to taste her, to surround himself with her presence, to let her body be a balm to heal his wounds.

Thrown off stride, he shrugged his shoulders. “Don’t know what you’re talking about. These were on sale so I got ‘em.”

She pulled back and captured his chin in her grip, turning his face to hers. “Don’t lie to me, Wyatt. You can tell me you don’t want to talk about it, and I may or may not honor that request, but don’t lie to me.”

He jerked his chin out of her hand. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“All right.” She turned around and moved to the other side of the tub and lifted a bottle. “Wash my hair.”

He groaned, entranced by the sight of her slender back and wishing all the bubbles would burst at once so he could see that perfect heart shaped ass. “Yes, Domina.”

She grinned, a bright flash of teeth that made her look much younger. “Much better.”

He sloshed through the tub and held out his hand, letting her pour the amount of shampoo that she desired into it. Then he worked it into a lather and massaged it into her scalp, loving the soft moan of appreciation as he worked. His cock throbbed, ached with the need to come. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been this turned on. It was something about her, some intangible energy she put off pulling him like a moth to the flame.

The motions of caring for her were strangely soothing. The happier he made her, the happier he felt. But hadn’t it always been that way between them? When they’d been stationed together in Afghanistan he’d always made sure that she was taken care of, that she had everything and anything she needed.

Yeah, she was an officer and his superior, but he’d been in the service longer and knew how to get things done. It got to the point where his buddies started to call him her guard dog, but he’d laughed it off, knowing any of them would have given their left nut to be the one Sapphire turned to when she needed help. Not only was she beautiful, but she was something of a legend among the troops for how hard she fought to keep her patients, their brothers and sisters at arms, alive. Yeah, she could freeze your dick off when she was in Ice Queen mode, but when it really mattered, she could be depended on to do everything humanly possible to save someone’s life.

Shit, she’d surely pulled him back from the gates of Hell on the fateful day that ended his military career. After the mortar round shredded the transport vehicle in front of them he knew he was going to die. The pain had been terrible, something he still experienced in nightmares.

“Wyatt, come back to me.”

“Huh?” He blinked, realizing he’d frozen behind her. “Sorry.”

“What were you thinking about?”

He swallowed hard, the lie tripping about on his tongue, but he’d promised not to lie to her. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

She stiffened and he prayed she wouldn’t push him, wouldn’t make him go back there, wouldn’t send him off into another panic attack that could leave one or both of them hurt as he reverted to an animalistic state of fear. The memory of his sister’s fright when he’d had a flashback while shopping with her at the mall still haunted him. What scared him the most was that he didn’t remember exactly what had happened, only that one minute he was feeling claustrophobic and the next his sister was screaming at him to stop while some teenage kid backed away with his hands up and terror in his eyes.

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