Wicked (19 page)

as he spoke, his hips pumping faster, harder.

Her insides tightened, everything tightened. He kept slamming into her, his

cock hitting deep with every thrust as she panted and cried and begged. She

was going to come! She couldn't come, he hadn't said she could come! "Karl!

Please! Can I come?"

"Yes!" He roared his answer, his fingers digging into her hips as he bent his knees and lodged himself so deep inside that her feet lifted off the ground.

Hot liquid shot from his body to hers as his cock swelled and jerked inside

her spasming core.

When she could breathe again, the first thing she did was speak. "Thank

you."

Karl's heart skipped a beat at her soft words and he slipped his hands

beneath her. Lifting, he stepped back, carrying her with him as he found his

chair.

Once again, he arranged her in his lap. He put a shaking finger under her

chin and lifted her face to his.

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"What's between us is more than sex, Lara.
That
was more than sex." He kissed the streaks left on her cheeks from her dried tears, his chest

tightening at the salty taste.

Fear clouded her eyes, and he sensed panic trying to get ahold of her. He

stroked a gentle hand up and down her back, his gaze never leaving hers as

he strove to keep her calm.

"Shhhhh, it's okay," he murmured. "I was wrong to withhold myself from you last night. You needed me too much, and it's too soon for you to truly trust

that I'll always give you what you need, even if it's not right away. But I can

only do that if you're honest with me and with yourself, Lara."

He kissed her then, his tongue gently coaxing hers into play. Her arms crept

up and around his neck, and she melted into him, giving him the comfort they

both needed.

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25

S
he sat on Karl's lap, kissing and cuddling and soaking up his warmth.

Eyes closed, cradled against him, she was surrounded, safely cocooned in

his energy. She got it, now. The burning of her freshly spanked ass was a

badge of her strength, and his concern.

After a short while, Karl patted her hip and told her to get dressed, he was

going to take her home. She floated through getting dressed and the drive

home as if in a dream, her head full but unwilling to delve too deeply into her

thoughts just then.

Instead, she focused on Karl's constant touching. His hand at her back,

keeping his hand on top of hers when she placed it on his thigh, holding her

hand as he walked her to the door. It felt so good when she was with him.

Better than good, she felt sexy and beautiful and safe and cared for.

She felt cherished.

It was weird, but being with him excited her, and at the same time, calmed

something deep within. Something she hadn't even been aware of before.

She unlocked her door and turned to him. "Will you come in? I'll cook you

dinner." The words were out of her mouth before she knew what she was

saying. They certainly weren't what she'd planned, but the thought of him

leaving just then was too much for her. She wasn't ready to say good-bye.

His eyes lit up and his smile set the butterflies to fluttering in her stomach. "I'd like that. Thanks, sugar."

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He came in and sat at the kitchen table while she searched the cupboards for

ideas. She wasn't a gourmet or anything, but she enjoyed cooking, and she

really wanted to make something nice for Karl.

"Water, Coke, or coffee?" she asked when she opened the fridge.

"Real Coke, or diet?"

"Definitely real. Real stuff always has the best flavor. Like butter." She held up the container she'd just pulled from the fridge. "No man-made margarine

here. Real butter is better."

That set the tone, and Lara was pleased that Karl kept things light. They

made small talk while she wrapped some salmon in tinfoil with butter and

herbs and then slid them into the oven. By the time she was slicing and

dicing fresh veggies, they were laughing over the story of his first fishing trip

with his dad.

"I loved the camping, loved the fire, and the tent, but something about being

in a small canoe out on the Pacific Ocean, even though we weren't way out

there, just made my balls shrivel up and hide."

Lara loved that he'd admit to a fear. "So are you still scared of the water?"

"Not if I'm on a big boat or a ferry."

Her heart skipped a beat at his self-deprecating smile. "It sounds like you

had a good childhood."

"I did. My parents had a good marriage, and they loved me." He nodded, his

gaze steady on her. "I was lucky, not everyone has that as an example of

how things can be."

She opened the fridge, searching for something, anything, to do so that she

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didn't have to meet his gaze. She didn't want to talk about families and

childhoods. She'd worked too hard to put hers behind her.

"I don't have anything for dessert. I wasn't planning on cooking for company."

Karl grabbed her hand and pulled her over to stand between his knees. He

kissed her knuckles, his tongue skimming the sensitive skin between her

fingers. "I think we had dessert before we left the office."

The purr in his voice reached deep inside her and stroked her sex. Locking

her knees to stop the trembling that had started there, she licked her lips,

trying to think of something to say, anything to say.

"You weren't one of the lucky ones, were you?" he asked softly.

She shook her head, avoiding his gaze, but unable to ignore the question. "It

wasn't perfect, but it could've been worse."

"Want to tell me about it?" His thumb caressed the palm of her hand, giving her a solid connection to something warm. Giving her strength.

She met his gaze, a small smile lifting her lips as she shrugged. "There's

nothing to tell. My mom left when I was little, and my dad was a drunk who

couldn't keep a job."

"So you not only had to take care of yourself, but of him too." Karl's body remained relaxed, slouched in the chair with her standing between his

knees, but she could sense the tension grow in him, see the anger in his

eyes. Not anger at her, but
for her.

"For a while—then I left. It's easier to look after myself when I'm the only

person I need to worry about."

"I know you've been looking after yourself for a long time. More than a

decade you said, but I meant what I said—what we have is special. We're in

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this together, Lara, all the way. You just have to decide if you're brave

enough to give it a chance."

She just stood there, heart thumping against her ribs, brain completely

frozen, drowning in the dark pools of his eyes until the timer on the oven

started screaming.

She dashed for the oven, snatching up the dish towel as she went. Karl's last

statement was a testament to not only what he wanted, but also just how well

he did know her. It had been a direct challenge, and she never turned her

back on a challenge.

As if she'd been jolted out of a trance, her mind raced as she got their plates

ready. Everything he'd said in his office came back full force.
His
…he wanted her. He really wanted
her
—not just her body. Part of her knew he was right.

There was more than just sex to them. No one had ever made her feel the

way he did. No one had ever gotten her so wrapped up in
feeling
and

sensation
that she'd say anything, do anything, forget everything but his

touch and his voice.

No one had ever made her feel as cared for, or as safe as he did, either.

When she was in his arms, she felt…

Lara gave her head a shake. She didn't know what she felt, but she did know

she needed to think before accepting that challenge, no matter how strongly

the desire to just say
"Let's do it"
was.

Loading the plates full of veggies, rice, and fish, she watched out of the

corner of her eye as Karl opened the laptop she'd left on the table, and hit a

few keys. Nickleback filled the small space just as she set the plates on the

table.

"A little mood music to go with the meal," he said with a grin.

She shot him a look. "Yeah, funny how the first words of that song are 'I like

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your pants around your feet.'"

"It seems appropriate."

They laughed and the light mood was restored.

It was unusual how comfortable she was having him in her house. The boys

came down to watch movies every now and then, but it was their house too.

She'd had men over before but they only ever saw her bedroom, and maybe

the shower if they were lucky.

Cooking for someone, just chatting and enjoying each other's company, was

something totally new for her. And she liked it.

She liked Karl.

It went beyond the banked heat that was in his eyes and the sparks that went

through her every time their fingers brushed or their knees bumped. The

pleasure she got when he bit into his salmon and moaned appreciatively was

matched only by the joy of verbally sparring with him.

He was quick and funny, and she loved that even though he'd been spanking

her ass an hour ago, he didn't feel the need to try and constantly dominate

her.

As if the natural conversation didn't prove that, when dinner was done and

she stood to clear the plates, he helped.

"You wash, I'll dry," he said, grabbing a dish towel and standing at her side.

"I'm surprised you don't want to wash since you like to dip your fingers into

the wetness so much."

"It's the bubbles." He looked at her, completely straight-faced. "I prefer smooth and creamy wetness."

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She snorted. "No doubt!"

He laughed and they made quick work of the dishes. When she bent over to

put away the cutting board, she felt the light snap of a towel against her ass.

"Hey!" She straightened up covering her backside with her hands. "My butt is sensitive enough right now, thank you very much."

He tried to look shamed, but the grin kept him from pulling it off. "I couldn't

resist when you bent over like that."

"Oh yeah?" She snatched up the other tea towel and started to twirl it

menacingly. "Prepare for battle, buddy."

She took a fighting stance and flicked her wrist, snapping the towel at his

thigh. Quicker than she could blink he grabbed the towel and tugged her

against his chest. "I'd rather just say thank you for a wonderful dinner," he said before his mouth slanted over hers.

Lara opened for him without hesitation. She dropped the towel and wrapped

her arms around his neck, her tongue meeting his, dancing and rubbing as

she leaned into him.

He pulled back and nipped at her bottom lip, a growl rumbling from his chest

and fluttering over her. "I need to get going."

A sigh rose within her, but she squelched it. What was her problem? She'd

been with him for hours the night before, and again for hours that evening.

She should be sick of him, she should be craving her own space, not wanting

to hang on to him.

"Yeah, it's getting late and I need to go talk to Peter about my car." She

pulled her arms back and tried to take a step back only to have his hands grip

her hips and hold her in place. He tapped his forehead lightly against hers,

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and she gazed up at him.

"We're not going to see each other again until next week, sugar. I need you

to think about what we've done, and all I've said. I am a Dom, and I need a

sub. I think that's you, but only you can decide for sure." His hand slid around and squeezed her tender butt cheeks. "We will stay in touch though. You

have my email, and my phone numbers; you can call me
anytime
, for any

reason. Understood?"

Lara nodded, her chest tight.

Her first instinct was to ask why she couldn't see him for so long, but she bit

her tongue. She did need to think. So, she forced a confident smile, and

spoke firmly. "Understood."

"Okay then." He pressed a quick hard kiss to her lips and stepped back.

"Thank you for a wonderful dinner. It was just what I needed."

"You're welcome." She walked him to the door, giving him a cheerful wave

before closing the door on his retreating form and leaning against it.

After a minute of looking at her empty suite, listening to the tinny notes of

music still coming from her laptop, she spun on her heel and headed for the

stairway to Peter and Graham's floor.

She did have to say thank you to Peter for dealing with her car issues, she

did
not
suddenly feel a little lost.

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26

L
ara couldn't sleep. Again.

Every time she closed her eyes, Karl appeared to her, dressed in his leather

pants with his wicked tattoo and light glinting off the jewelry in his nipples. In

her mind he was standing there, arms wide open, saying "You can have

me…if you dare."

If she dared.

After living on the streets as a runaway for three of her teenage years, she

dared pretty much anything. Except letting people get too close. She'd