Sweet Backlash (3 page)

"Yeah. What a jerk." Melony faced
front, anxious to get to her car in the satellite parking lot. Two
more years at the law firm and she'd have a spot in the garage
attached to the back of the building. After today, she wondered if
she could make it.

Behind her, Kathy muttered, "Chip.
What kind of name is Chip, anyway? Sounds like a snack."

Melony snickered. She couldn't help
it. The bus delivered them to the lot and Kathy reminded her of
tonight's society meeting. The Society of Dominants and
Submissives. She really needed to go and find a new partner. First,
she had to break it off with George, which promised to be
excruciating. To her nerves, anyway.

Thankfully, the ride home went
smoothly, with no accidents or jams to slow traffic. She showered,
dried and curled her hair, then ate half a sandwich. She expected
George soon, and too much to eat would make it difficult to lace
her leather bodice. She had considered meeting him in street
clothes, but with George, she didn't think he would listen unless
she looked threatening.

Her doorbell rang, and she tossed the
last bite of her sandwich into her mouth. With an unhurried step,
she went to the door and peered through the peephole. Yep. George.
She would make him wait. He hated that.

In her bedroom, she tossed her robe on
the bed and drew the black leather top over her head. Her stomach
rumbled, unsatisfied with such a small dinner. She pulled the laces
tight at the small of her back as the bell rang again. With slow,
deliberate movements, she tied a bow and worked her way into
skin-tight, patent leather pants.

The bell rang a third time and she
called down the hall, "One more time and I'll make you
pay."

"Promise?" came George's muffled
response.

Shes shook her head, stepped into
four-inch heeled leather boots, and zipped them closed to
mid-thigh. She adjusted her breasts so they rounded at the edge of
the bustier then knocked the thermostat down a notch as she passed.
At the door, she flipped the lock and told him to come in before
moving to a kitchen drawer where she kept a low voltage
Taser.

"Ooo, that's new," he said, his dull
eyes reflecting fear as he closed the door behind him.

She glanced at the wall clock. She
would have to make this fast to get to the seven o'clock society
meeting. "This is going to be short and sweet, George," she
promised.

He faltered backward. "I knew it.
You're going to kill me, aren't you? I never should have gotten
into this stuff. You're all psycho—"

"George! Chill. I'm just breaking up
with you." The day had worn on her patience, and she hoped George
wouldn't whine. "Go to the meeting tonight and find another
Dom."

His face fell. "But I love
you."

"Oh, shut up. For goodness' sake, go
home to your wife and kids." Why did he have to be so
pathetic?

"But—"

She flipped the switch on the zapper
and it crackled to life with a threatening hum. She walked slowly
toward him. Through clenched teeth for show, she said, "Back out of
my apartment, George, or I'll send a charge of electricity through
your balls that will char the hair right off."

His breath came in tiny pants as his
fear intensified. She sniffed. He reeked of fright. "I might like
it." He didn't sound convinced.

"I don't think you want to find out,"
she warned, nearing a step. She aimed the taser at his crotch. It
hummed louder.

Finally, he took two quick steps to
the door. "You won't think about it? We haven't even had sex. Give
me a second chance?"

The thought of his pasty, doughy body
pumping into her made her want to scream with disgust. "I'm not
that kind of dom. Now, get out."

He opened the door only enough to
squeeze out with a pathetic grunt. When the door closed, she
breathed a sigh of relief. It had gone easier than she'd thought.
She turned off the zapper and tucked it into its drawer. Then the
doorbell rang.

"For goodness' sake, George," she
yelled in frustration as she flung open the door.

She froze. Not George.

"Holy shit!" Her boss dropped his
briefcase and ran a hand through his thick, dark hair. He raked her
with his gaze, his eyes bulging.

This was not good. Feigning
nonchalance, Melony rolled her eyes and headed into the kitchen.
"What are you doing here?" She gathered the makings for another
half a sandwich.

As if snapping out of a trance, he
retrieved his satchel and came inside. "What the hell do you think
you're doing?"

That plucked her last nerve. Drawing
confidence from her uniform, she turned on him. "I'm making a
sandwich," she ground out. "And don't you ever talk to me like
that. I am not answerable to you outside the office."

"I hear you loud and clear. I
apologize. It's just that I wasn't expecting… this." He waved his
arm up and down, taking in her garb. He stared, as though waiting
for her to explain.

He'd wait until pigs flew. "How did
you know where I live?"

"I searched you on
Accurint."

The jackass searched her private
information without asking? "Look here, Mr. Albemarle—"

"Chip," he interrupted.

"Whatever. You can't just come here
like this. I don't know how they do things in Boston, but we don't
behave this way in Virginia. I told you, I can't work tonight."
Melony slapped a piece of bread on the counter.

"The people of Boston are perfectly
civilized," he assured, leaning on the counter.

"Then it's just you." Extending a
pointer finger, she shooed him. "Don't get comfortable. You're
leaving."

He didn't budge. "You look incredible
in that get up. You going to a costume party?"

"Get up? Are you pretending to be a
cowboy or something?" Cheese, ham, mayonnaise.

"Do you always answer a question with
a question?" He grinned.

Damn, but he was charming. Suppressing
a smile, she simply answered, "No."

"So, are you going to a costume
party?" He leaned closer.

"Don't breathe on my food." She set
the jar of mayonnaise and lunchmeat packages in the refrigerator
and picked up her sandwich.

"You didn't answer me."

She took a bite then pointed to her
lips and shook her head.

"Ha-ha. No talking with your mouth
full, huh? I get it. You don't want to tell." He winked.

Did he think she was a pushover? She
swallowed. "Why'd you come here?"

He stood at attention, glancing
around. "Oh, right. Right." He plunked his briefcase on the counter
and unlocked it. "I pulled some information about Judge Edmonds
from the internet." Chip looked at page after page, stacking them
neatly, one at a time. "Rulings. His appointment to the seat. His
law practice. His education—"

"Okay, stop. Stop." Melony laid a hand
on his and regretted it. A spark of awareness, far more intense
than already existed between them, reared and bit her. Jumping, she
yanked her hand as if he had burned her.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

"Fine." Her voice shook, and she
despised the weakness. She cleared her throat, she said, "None of
that is going to get you anywhere with the judge."

Her hunger dissipated. She tossed the
remaining sandwich in the trash. Rubbing her hand, she tingled with
the memory of warm, thick skin and crisp, wiry hairs. Definitely
athletic.

"What do you suggest?" He arched his
eyebrows and waited.

An attorney asking a staff member how
to relate to a judge? Highly suspicious. "Are you
serious?"

"Yeah. Do you know him?"

She studied him, glad he appeared as
affected by the touch. His eyes, glassy and dark, watched her under
half-lowered lids. Across his cheekbones, his skin stretched taut,
as if he struggled to hold himself in check. She could have some
fun, but she wanted him gone. He made her nervous. "I've worked
with Judge Edmonds. Yes, I know him."

"And? You said not to use all this
information. Bob's giving me nothing to go on. You know him.
Spill." He shoved the papers into his satchel.

"Will you leave if I share?" She
glanced at the clock again. Nearly seven o'clock. No time to change
clothes.

"Yes. I promise."

She wished he would stop looking at
her as if he wanted to devour her. To avoid brushing against him,
she went around the kitchen island to the door and removed her
hooded, ankle-length trench coat from the curly wooden stand. "He's
laid back. Don't go in spouting facts and trying to kiss up to him.
You'll only piss him off. Be honest. Be yourself, whatever that is.
Ask questions. He loves to talk about his kids. His oldest boy and
daughter-in-law are expecting a baby in September. If he really
likes you, he'll invite you to his chambers." Dropping her keys in
her coat pocket, she gestured at the door. "Now, get
out."

His briefcase in hand, he opened the
door and waved her to go first. "I like a woman with
attitude."

"Don't even go there." Man, she was
late. Kathy would give her what for.

She headed for the door to the parking
lot, but he paused outside her apartment. "Aren't you going to lock
the door?" he asked.

"It's automatic," she tossed over her
shoulder. Before she reached the exit, his running footfalls came
behind and his arm shot in front of her to open the door. "Knock it
off, would ya? I don't need your chivalry."

He chuckled. Not the reaction she
hoped to inspire. "Chivalry? I thought I was simply exercising good
manners."

She narrowed her eyes. "What? All of a
sudden you want to behave properly? Why blow a perfectly good track
record?" She draped the coat over her shoulders and retrieved her
keys.

"I said I was sorry."

"Go and do whatever it is you do. I've
got to go." Melony used the remote on her key ring to unlock her
car.

"How do you walk in those things?" He
eyed her boots with amazement.

She huffed in frustration. "I mean it.
Go."

"I'll just see you safely to your
car." He stayed at her side. His body near, she actually felt his
heat passing through her wrap to warm her arm. "Who has a costume
party in March?"

She opened her car door and she gave
him one last glance while settling into the driver's seat. "Full of
questions, aren't you?"

She tried to close the door, but he
held it ajar. "Have lunch with me tomorrow."

"I'm late."
Stubborn!
She put
the key in the ignition.

"Please."

"Impressive. Your manners are
improving by the minute." She turned the key and the engine roared
to life.

"Do you want to make me beg?" He
grinned a silly, boyish grin she liked entirely too
much.

"That just happens to be my most
favorite thing in the world." She gave him a deadly serious glare
that melted away his grin and provided an immense sense of
satisfaction. Now, that was more like it. She jerked the door, and
it slammed. Her tires squealed as she smoked her way out of the
parking lot.

She couldn't be serious. Chip tapped
his foot as her car pulled onto the street and stopped at a red
light. She had told him absolutely nothing about herself. She had
not answered any of his questions other than telling him she made a
sandwich when he asked what she was doing. Sly. Wicked smart. God,
and drop-dead gorgeous. Standing in the same room with her set his
body on fire.

He had thought his reaction in his
office that afternoon had happened because she caught him by
surprise. A fluke. He took pride in his self-control. But she
proved him wrong.

In her apartment, his brain fizzled
and his senses took over. He gave the appearance of a relaxed
visitor, but inside, he was on meltdown. He barely remembered
anything she had said about Judge Edmonds. He could only wonder
which door led to the bedroom, and how difficult her leather outfit
would be to remove.

As the red light continued to stay
her, an impulse had him racing to his Mercedes. He had noticed a
slight softening in her expression the last time he asked her to
lunch. If he pushed a little harder, maybe she would accept. He
could crash the party. Go as an attorney. He still wore his suit,
after all.

Adrenaline gave him a rush as the
light turned green, and he turned the key in the ignition. He
screamed through the parking lot and chirped his tires when he hit
the street, barely making it through as the light turned amber.
Keeping his eyes on her taillights, he followed her through back
streets to an industrial park full of warehouses and massive,
sprawling office buildings. He waited for her to go inside before
he pulled in and claimed a parking space near the
street.

* * * *

"Where have you been? You're never
late. I thought you were in an accident or something." Kathy
marched from the ladies' room to join her in front of the meeting
hall.