The Dom With the Perfect Brats (13 page)

“No.”
He pursed his lips as he looked her over. She could tell he was getting a little frustrated at her lack of understanding, but he sighed, shifted his weight then started to explain. “A submissive isn’t a robot. It’s a strong person who makes the decision to give themselves fully to another in an act of love and respect. Pleasing your Dom is a big part of it because deep down inside, it pleases you to make him or her happy and proud.”

“That all sounds very nice but not what you act like you want. D/s is
a relationship, right?”

“Of course.”

“But you don’t leave room for compromise. That makes it a dictatorship.” When he stared at her silently, she decided to take the first step. With a sigh, she took the collar from his hand. “I’ll wear it. Even though I’ll look like a big dork, I’ll do it to show you what a compromise is.”

He took the collar from h
er hands as she fumbled to get it on. “It’s just a play collar. You won’t wear it to please me?”

Before he buckled it, he searched her eyes, seeming to long for the right answer. She gave it to him. “Yes. Also to please you, Cross.” She wasn’t sure if it was true or not, but she did like his satisfied grin.

After placing the collar around her neck and fastening the buckle, he stepped back. “Mmm. Sexy.”

Though it was on the thin side and not terribly clunky, it still felt like a huge weight sitting on her neck. Or maybe that had more to do with its meaning. In her head, when the collar went on, she was Cross’s. There was no doubt about it. The collar felt like a brand. Or
a big flashing sign that read “owned by the giant muscled man leading me around with a proprietary hand on my back.”

Walking back into the hall, s
he shuddered. It felt like everybody was watching her as Cross escorted her to the booth. All eyes seemed fixed on her collar. The thing felt like it was choking her. She couldn’t tell if it was in a good or a bad way.

On the one hand, it sent arousal soaring through her. Visions of Cross leading her by it, holding it in his tight grip as he growled threats in her ear, his look of desperate longing as he placed it on her neck – it made her feel wanted and sexy. But she didn’t like the attention it got her in public. Was she embarrassed to be a submissive or just a private person? It wasn’t clear yet, but what was clear, Cross didn’t seem willing to give her a choice.

At the booth, there was already a customer waiting for her. She sighed and gave her back another stretch.

“Have you eaten?” Cross asked.

“I will when I’m done with this one.”

He frowned but nodded. Then he looked at Silas, who was cleaning after his last client. “Make sure she eats something.”

Silas nodded.

She rolled her eyes. Overbearing bastard. A finger hooked under her collar and Cross tugged her up against his body. Her gaze flitted around them
nervously, but nobody seemed to be paying attention.

Cross stared down at her a moment, making her feel small and vulnerable, but desperately wanted at the same time. Then he kissed her forehead.

“Be my good girl and keep this on today,” he whispered for her ears only.

Everything stilled. There was just Cross
, his hard body against the length of hers, his breath on her neck, and her.

It was all she could do to gulp then nod. He let her go and sauntered away while she watched his back, trying to snap herself out of his spell.

Silas cleared his throat and she spun to face him. He looked from her face to the collar then bit his lip as if holding back a smile.

“What are you looking at?” she snapped.

He shook his head. “Nothing.”

After a threatening glare, s
he turned to her customer, hoping she didn’t look as frazzled and disheveled as she felt. The rest of the day was going to be interesting.

Izzy

With the book signing being in Felix, the next town over, Izzy had been relieved when Cross offered to drive her. US highways gave her the shudders if she drove by herself and they’d all be driving on the wrong side of the road too. Making sure she drove on the right and not the left was somehow more important when you were going at eighty miles per hour.

Cross’s
ute was rugged and workmanlike. The black paint was peeling and scratched, there were no hub caps, and the back tray had shreds of timber and dents from whatever Cross had stacked in there at one time or another.

Before hopping into the passenger side, Izzy took a step back to peer at the dilapidated paintwork.
“You have a pretty gnarly ute – er – truck, for a business man.” She stepped up to the seat, shimmied across, then used all her strength to pull in the heavy door and slam it shut.

He pulled open the door and slid inside to the driver’s seat.
“What did you expect me to drive? A BMW?”

“Something like that.”

He cocked an eyebrow. “Do I look like the type that drives a fancy car?”

She took a moment to look him over.
Mouth-watering biceps bulged from under his brown t-shirt. Tempting. She’d love to reach out and touch him. But, this was all too new, too raw, and too daunting with that rough manner of his. She wasn’t that comfortable around him yet. Even if...especially since, he had tied her up.

Damn, that was one hot memory. She resisted squirming but for a second she shut her eyes. His tongue on her down there would be
...

“Isadora.”

The way he said her name sounded smooth like silk gliding over skin. “Hmm?”

“I said do I seem like the type that drives a fancy car?”

“Well...” She smiled teasingly. “You do keep a tidy shop. A prissy car isn’t too much of a stretch.”

He laughed.

In truth, despite his cleanliness and need for order, he was still rough around the edges. She pictured him in a Hummer. Or maybe an off-roading Jeep Wrangler.

“Funny girl,” he said, placing a hand on her knee.

A contented smile settled on her face. She adored this side of him. Despite his strict rules about bratting, he did laugh at them
–
sometimes when he thought they weren’t looking. He wasn’t threatened by their teasing. He had macho down to a science but not in a typical guy way. There were times like this where they were just two people, relaxing, bantering, and making each other smile, like two friends. And friendship was imperative to any romantic relationship. It was nice to have a break from the orders, the rules, and the sexual innuendo from time to time, and just...be. It wasn’t often she got to be herself around people without feeling nervous. She always felt like she had to hide her true self or risk being rejected. But Cross made her feel like she was important, just the way she was. Maybe it was time for her to tell him her secret. Silly because it wasn’t really a big deal to most people, but sometimes all it took was one event to change a person forever.

The engine roared as Cross bumped over the rough edge of the driveway and turned onto the road.

After they’d driven for a few minutes and left the busy town center, Cross asked, “So, you’re aiming to get an autograph of some favorite author today?”

Phew. Safe territory.
Maybe she wasn’t ready to talk about the deeper stuff after all? “I am. Belinda Thurman.”

“She’s good?”

Izzy smiled. “One of the best romance romance authors I know.”

When he only nodded
, she figured reading romance wasn’t one of his hobbies. As if it would be. Amusement welled up at the idea.

She checked the tiny buttons on her long sleeves and smoothed the
black-and-white fabric of the shirt over her lap. The bottom hem barely went below her ass and she wore black pants that clung to her legs with a pretty ribbon lace-up back. You didn’t need to untie the bow to pull down the stretch-fabric pants, though. Decent yet provocative. She smiled and wondered if Cross would notice.

Once on the highway, the engine noise and rattling became so loud the most they could do was yell the occasional question at each other. Cross pried out of her that her dad was a US citizen living
a few hours away and her mother was still in Australia, but after that they gave up on conversing. The truck’s vibrations shook their way into Izzy even through the upholstery.

Despite the clamor, it was somehow terribly restful just being here with this man. Travelling with Cross reminded her of car trips with her family, back when she was little and all was good – companionable and safe and plain simple happiness. The man exud
ed trustworthiness despite looking like a tattooed bulldog on steroids.

Above them, fat leaden clouds settled in the sky. “Rain
’s coming,” she whispered.

S
he loved rain – everything seemed fresh after a downpour.

At least the drive gave her some time to think this through. What was it with her? She didn’t have any riveting need to have sex with a man who
...who tied up and spanked girls did she? She’d done just fine until now. Well, just fine, but kind of lacklustre.

She ducked her head and remembered, letting the monotonous background noise lull her
. Allowing him to have control, seeing him
take
control, had taken sex to a different level that had lit her up inside. She could do without it, but did she want to? And another thing, that she’d only admit to herself, in the safety of her head, watching him spank Gemma, then fuck her while she and Gemma kissed, while she stirred the girl, tasted her skin...

Izzy squeezed her thighs together and took a deep breath while she played that back in her mind.
God, that had been something else. She’d never ever be game to do that by herself. Kiss a woman. Ask if she wanted to go further. Never.

She peeked at Cross. This was only the beginning too, wasn’t it? What else did he have up his sleeve, apart from a well-inked biceps?

Whatever. She needed to keep her head on her shoulders, keep herself centered – just because this was fun didn’t mean he wasn’t like any other man. BDSM or not, it was obvious Cross loved the idea of two women in his bed. He’d likely get tired of them one day and she had no intention of getting her heart trampled into the dust.

The signing was at a bookstore called Book
Lust, and the line-up for the signing wound across the store to the entrance. Though she enjoyed meeting one of her idols, Izzy couldn’t help noticing Cross leaning against the column just outside, looking bored.

He’d ventured in for a few minutes
, browsing through book titles, until a woman ogled his physique and asked if he was a cover model. Before he mustered a reply, another woman had turned and jogged over to ask if he’d mind her having her picture taken with him. Since he was wedged in close to a rotating book display, he could do little else. She’d snuggled up into his side grinning hugely while the first lady snapped them with her phone.

Izzy had come close to
dying from holding in the laughter. After shooting them both what seemed a look of amused horror, if that was possible, Cross had retreated out the door. It might have made her chuckle, but she wished he’d come back in.

He watched her from the window
. When she shyly looked toward him, she’d find his gaze on her. One corner of his mouth had this cute upward tilt like he knew something she hadn’t figured out yet. Those eyes, though, she shivered. The concentration in them filled her with a wickedly exciting sort of foreboding.

Finally, she couldn’t wait any longer. She waved him over. With a crooked smile, he detached himself from the post
on which he was leaning and walked back into the store.

“Will you stand here with me?” she asked with her best puppy dog look. “Please?”

With a sigh he looked around at all the middle-aged women chatting to each other while sneaking glances at him.

“I promise I’ll bat them away if they come near you again.”

He chuckled. “Well that makes me feel much better.”

Scowling, she gave his arm a mock punch then
forgot to breathe when he looked down at her with narrowed eyes. The man was distilled alpha male. She pulled her hand away quick and cleared her throat. No punching the Dom, she scolded herself. He’d been so relaxed and easy-going she’d almost forgotten the danger that lurked beneath. But he seemed to have no problem reminding her.

Eyes facing front, she scrambled for something to say.

“How far along are you in your book?”

She exhaled in relief. That, she could go on about. “I’m almost done! I’m in the revising process now. It’s been a long road but I think I finally see the light at the end of the tunnel.”

“Good. I don’t know much about writing books or publishing but almost done sounds promising.”

When she turned toward the front, chuckling, she
found she was at the front of the queue.

After exchanging a few words about writing, including
Izzy’s own, Belinda Thurman signed Izzy’s copy of
Warrior Love
.

“Thank you.” She took the precious book from Belinda and clutched it to her chest with both hands.

“You’re welcome, Isadora. Good luck with your writing.”

“Thanks!”
Her smile felt like it had been transplanted on.

And that was all she managed before the woman behind her edged in and plonked her own copy down to be signed. Oh well
. A fifty mile drive and a brush with fame were better than serving coffee all day.

Her
favorite strappy sandals clacked on the floor as she wormed her way through the crowd, with Cross tugging her by the hand.

Outside
the book store, he slowed. “I spotted a coffee shop across the road that’s next to a little botanical garden. We can go there for lunch.”

The
main doors of the shopping complex slid open. His grip on her tight and inescapable, Cross drew her onto the pavement and down to the pedestrian crossing at the traffic lights. A light drizzle pattered onto her face. The pavement already shone wetly.

“
It’s raining! We can’t sit outside.” Though she liked it, rain was best appreciated from inside a cozy room, with droplets sliding down the outside of the window glass.

“So? There’ll be a shelter. When I get a chance to be outside the shop, I take it.”

He turned and slipped his arms around her until his palms rested warm against her back then he hauled her in. With his thigh pressed between her legs, she had to bend slightly backward or have her face buried in his neck. His brown eyes skewered her to the spot.

Transfixed, barely daring to breathe, she could only wait.

“What’s the matter? Do you think you’ll get pneumonia from a little rain?”

Fuck, that craggy rumbling voice of his had shuddered a spear of pure arousal straight to her groin. She swallowed.

“I’m guaranteed protection against pneumonia,” he added, in a most serious tone.

The moment broke. Izzy chuckled. “You are? Thanks.”

“Yep. I’m more than willing to keep you warm.”

“Is that like written in small print somewhere on you, between the tattoos?” she asked wryly.

“Sure is. I’ll show you where later.” He grinned.

“Let me guess, inside your pants?”

“You’ll have to wait and see.” The growled promise electrified her.

She blinked once, and stared up at him.

With assurance and deliberation, he leaned down and took her mouth with his. His tongue pushed on her lips until she opened and let him in. The taste and smell of a man sank into her and she breathed and moaned at the same time, confused, her mind absorbed in the many sensations of the kiss. She closed her eyes, feeling him, all of him. It was as if he memorized every part of her beneath his lips. He explored her mouth, grinding in more, while he held her trapped with his body and his hands at her back. His rock-hard thigh pressed on her, stirring warmth, separating her legs.

If someone looked, they’d see. Sex on the street
would be scarcely more catastrophic.

Yet she gave in, breathing past his lips, hearing herself make
those small noises of pleasure because she simply couldn’t help herself. Her legs weakened and he hardened the kiss – forcing her so far backward she’d fall if he released her. Lust overwhelmed Izzy and she knew her panties were wet. She didn’t want him to stop, ever.

The distant tap of shoes on concrete suggested the lights had signaled it was time to go.

“Hey, man,” someone yelled. “Give her more tongue!”

Oh hell.

At that they broke apart laughing.

“Come on, Izzy. Before the light change
s.” Smiling, he took her hand again and they stepped into the crosswalk.

With another man she would have been mortified and wondered who had yelled, but with Cross holding her hand, she didn’t care. Her lips tingled with
residual heat and her mind with wild exhilaration. They’d tongue-kissed in public and neither of them gave a damn who had seen because they were having
fun
. It was about them and not the stranger.