CHAPTER SIX
Max’s Magic Rule #7:
Never let a beautiful woman upstage you.
“Melina told me you were concerned about Grace. You finally track her down and make your move?”
Max blinked. Considering he was right in the middle of bench-pressing two hundred and fifty pounds, he didn’t answer his brother, who was spotting him, right away. It had been less than twenty-four hours since he saw Grace, but for all he knew, she was heading to the airport to catch her flight right now. To make sure he didn’t do something stupid like try to stop her at the airport and fall to his knees begging for another chance at bedding her, he’d called his brother to meet him at the gym. Like he’d told her, he needed Grace’s total trust if he had any hope of giving her what she wanted. Without that…
After he settled the free weights in place, he sat up and cocked a brow at Rhys. His brother already saw too damn much. On the off chance Grace didn’t get on that plane today, he needed to throw him off the scent. “Make my move? What are you, in sixth grade?” he asked, injecting an “as if” tone into his voice.
Rhys rolled his eyes. “Right, like you haven’t wanted a piece of her since you heard her voice? She’s gorgeous. Her accent is sexy as hell. And all those little Southernisms she spouts?” He paused, obviously waiting for Max to fill in the blank.
“Adorable,” he said. They were one of things he enjoyed about Grace. One second he wanted to shove her against a wall and fuck her hard, the next he wanted to laugh at the crazy things coming out of her mouth. He wondered how many southern idioms she had in her back pocket.
He choked back a laugh when his brother scowled. “I don’t get you, Max. You hit everything else, why not Grace?”
Max took the towel lying around his neck and wiped his brow. “She’s Melinda’s friend. I fuck her and that fucks up everything.” He shrugged, again suggesting his disinterest rather than lying flat out.
Rhys’s shrug mimicked his. “So what’s the plan for tonight?”
Max frowned. He hadn’t expected Rhys to accept his excuse so easily. He found himself wanting to continue talking about Grace. To give in and do what he always wanted to do but never had—grill Rhys about what he knew about his wife’s friend. He wanted to know what her hobbies were. What kind of movies she liked. What her favorite ice cream was. All he had were the little bits of information Melina had dropped in conversation over the years and what he’d learned about Grace last night, which wasn’t enough. But he contented himself with the knowledge that he probably knew things about her that Rhys didn’t—like the fact she’d dated guys with big dicks. And that she made out like a porn queen.
Just thinking about those lips she’d laid on him last night had him wanting more and getting hard—not a good thing when he was wearing thin, dry-weave shorts at a gym.
He forced himself to answer Rhys. “Same as usual as far as I know. Rehearsal. Show. Promoting the show.” Unless Grace had decided to stay in town and grant him the opportunity to add something even more spectacular to his agenda.
“You heard from Elizabeth?”
“Only a voicemail, thanking me again and checking in.”
“She’s a good friend. Now that her husband’s out of the picture, you think anything might happen between you two again?”
Not at all, Max thought. First, because her husband wasn’t out of the picture. Not as far as her heart was concerned. Second, the only woman Max was interested in right now was Grace.
“Hey,” Rhys said, nudging him with his elbow. “Look who we’re not talking about.”
Max followed his brother’s line of sight and barely stopped himself from pumping his fist in the air.
It looked like Lady Luck was sidling closer and closer.
Grace stood at the check-in counter, dressed in black spandex shorts and a pale pink sports tank that left a few inches of her lower back exposed. Her head was bent as she signed some papers, her ponytail revealing her neck and upper back. Above and below her tank, Max could see tattoos, which had been well covered by her top last night. The tattoos were curved lines, spaced about an inch apart. The lines, at least what he could see of them, created a shape that resembled half a feather. He had no idea whether all those curved lines met in the middle of her back to form some kind of recognizable image but he wanted to find out. More than that, he wanted to trace the patterns with his tongue, then work downward until he could kiss, suck and bite the curvy flesh of her ass and explore the buttery-soft skin between her legs.
The tattoos were just another facet of Grace. Bold yet mysterious. Trendy yet subdued. She wasn’t hiding them, but she wasn’t revealing them either. Just like she wasn’t hiding her desire for an orgasm, but—despite the fact she was right here in front of him—he’d still bet she wasn’t willing to bare all she was, give all she was, to get it.
Not unless he continued to push her.
In a moment, she straightened, dug around in the large workout bag slung over her shoulder, and produced what Max figured was a credit card. The young woman helping her at the counter took it and swiped it through a register.
“She’s staying in Vegas for another week,” Rhys said. “But you knew that already, didn’t you?”
“What?” Max said absently, keeping his eyes on Grace as she headed toward the women’s locker room. He could feel the grin trying to take over his face.
Then he remembered he’d promised to give her total control and it tempered his feelings of victory and anticipation. His unease grew the longer Rhys stared at him. Was his brother going to say anything, or burn him with laser eyes all day?
Max finally turned toward him. “She’s staying for a week? Why would you think I already knew that?”
“You called Melina and found out where she was. Next thing I know, Grace has decided to extend her trip. Quit bullshitting me, Max. I need to know you know what you’re getting into. Because somehow I don’t think you do.”
“I’m not getting into anything.” Besides Grace’s pants, he thought. But Grace wasn’t some conquest to bed. She was one of his sister-in-law’s best friends. A good woman. He was determined to take care with her, and that meant respecting her desire for privacy. Too bad it would be creepy for him to follow her. It’d be fun to watch her bouncing up and down doing aerobics, or displaying her ass as she did a Downward Dog.
“Max,” Rhys said.
“Don’t you have a pregnant wife to get home to?”
His brother sighed. “I most certainly do. And to tell you the truth, she hasn’t been feeling well.”
Max’s good humor immediately fled. “Why? What’s going on? Do you need to take more time off?”
“She and the doctor assure me it’s just normal aches and pains. And believe me, I’m taking plenty of time off to be with her. So much she’s worried she’s interfering with work.”
“Well don’t let that stop you.”
“Of course not. But you know the baby blankets Mom’s been working on? She finished them early and wanted me to pick them up before they leave for Hawaii. I’d planned on driving there today. Only…”
“No problem. I’ll swing by and pick them up for you.”
Rhys’s expression turned to one of relief. “That would be great. I’ll head home and watch a movie with Melina.”
“Is that all?”
When Rhys hesitated, Max understood. “Wait. Are you that concerned? That you’re afraid to—”
Rhys shook his head. “Sex is supposed to speed things along. Help, not hurt. Only she’s so tired lately. So fragile…”
“If Melina heard you say that, she’d kick your ass. Besides, even if most of her old clothes don’t fit her right now, I’m betting a certain bikini still does. Break it out and neither one of you will be tired for long.”
Rhys laughed and rubbed the back of his neck. “You’re right. She would kick my ass. Thanks, Max.”
“No problem. Now run along and have sex with your hot pregnant wife. Magician’s orders.”
The hand Rhys clapped on Max’s shoulder said it all. After Rhys left, Max headed toward the check-in counter.
The young woman who’d helped Grace a few minutes earlier smiled at him and leaned against the countertop, not so surreptitiously pressing her breasts together with her elbows. “May I help you, Mr. Dalton?”
He flashed her a mega-watt smile. Even counter girls expected him to flirt with them. All women did.
But right now, all he wanted was peace of mind. And that meant figuring out why Grace hadn’t yet come out of the women’s locker room.
“Hiya, sweetheart,” he said smoothly, leaning against the counter and getting close to the girl, who giggled nervously. “I’m looking for my friend, Grace. She was supposed to meet me but I’m not seeing where she went. Maybe she got the time wrong?”
The girl—Kenya, according to her nametag—pulled back a little but her smile widened. “Yes, she was just here. She told me you might be joining her. That you’re working on something for your show?”
What the hell? Why would Grace have told her that? “Sure. Something for the show. So where is she waiting for me?”
He looked around. The main gym, with various elliptical and treadmill machines, and a weight-lifting circuit, sat surrounded on three sides by glass-walled rooms. In the first room, sweaty women jumped and rotated to music, and in the second room, a combination of men and women were in the middle of a yoga practice. The third room was empty.
Kenya giggled again, the sound grating on his nerves. He wasn’t sure he’d ever heard Grace giggle, but he was pretty sure it wouldn’t annoy him. Everything about her fascinated him. That wasn’t bound to last, but right now…
“She’s in one of the private dance studios. Probably took the back door through the women’s locker room. You can get there through that hallway.” She tipped her head behind her. “It has everything you’ll need,” she said with another giggle.
“What do mean?”
“It’s set up for pole-dancing.”
His combined shock and excitement nearly staggered him.
Grace was in a studio meant for pole dancing. Just the thought sent blood pounding everywhere but his brain, where he needed it the most. Instead, he stood there in total guy mode, with a major hard-on and his knuckles practically dragging on the ground. But then he jerked into action and headed down the hall.
He did so with a huge smile, feeling like he was following the yellow brick road.
***
Bluesy pop music was already playing on Grace’s smart phone, the lyrics echoing her hopes to soon have Max Dalton begging her for mercy.
She’d had no clue he’d be at the gym. The moment she’d seen him and Rhys, she’d wanted to turn and run. Her own cowardice had appalled her. It didn’t matter that she’d gotten up the nerve to cancel her flight. She’d felt shaky and unsure of herself, and by reserving the gym’s pole dancing studio, she’d hoped to exhaust her body and clear her mind, at least for an hour.
A minute after seeing Max, so damn sexy in his workout clothes, his biceps bulging as he lifted weights, her nerves completely disappeared. An idea formed instead. Why not let him watch her on the pole? Surely that would help her regain the upper-hand in the small game they were playing. But she wasn’t about to invite Max directly, not with Rhys there. She figured if he was interested enough to track her down, however…
She peeked outside the studio window, which was tinted so she could see out but no one could see in. Her pulse accelerated when she saw Max heading up the hallway toward her.
She scrambled to the metal pole at the front of the room. As she did, she caught sight of her image in the mirrored wall. She looked decent in her workout clothes but not terribly seductive. Her expression, however? Even she could see the excitement. She looked youthful and daring and free. How had Max managed to significantly diminish her stress and anxiety over Logan Cooper and her baby plan in one night?
She’d taken enough pole-dancing classes back home to know exactly what she was doing. In a matter of seconds, she’d climbed up the pole, hooked her calves around it, then lowered herself until her chest was pressed against the pole and she was hanging upside down in a basic inversion. Then she braced her elbows and gripped the pole with her right hand about two feet higher than the left. Her instructors called it a split grip.
When she heard his footsteps just outside the door, she kept her right calf hooked around the pole but released her left leg and pressed it behind her, keeping her knee bent so the toes of her left foot pointed toward the floor. The position stretched her thigh muscles and her pant fabric pressed tight against her body, stimulating her clit ring. It felt good. It felt twice as good because she knew Max was coming.
She heard the door open. “Grace? Jesus.”
A quick glance confirmed he looked shocked… and aroused. With a loud click, he shut the door behind him and locked it.
When Max stepped toward her, she said somewhat breathlessly, “Sit. And just watch, Max. No talkin’. No hands.”
He saw the chair in the corner. And sat.
Then watched as she proceeded to do the rest of the routine she’d learned. It involved contorting her body in ways that sparked her imagination. She’d bet it did his, too. That was the whole point.
She squatted and spun, undulated, frisked the pole, and even managed to pull off a crescent—an advanced move that ended with her sliding down the pole with her body contorted into the shape of a crescent moon.
By the time she was done and standing with both feet on the ground, his expression was tight. Lids heavy. His fists clenched. Hot flags of color rode his cheeks. He looked thoroughly aroused. And she felt like she was going to go off like a firecracker.
He obviously hadn’t believed it himself, but maybe he’d been right the night before, when he’d said controlling his arousal might be the thing that got her off. She’d hurt when she’d lain in her bed last night. Ached for him. And even after she’d made herself come, she’d still ached.
She ached now. Her body fairly throbbed and she could almost smell the arousal—hers and Max’s—in the air.
More than ever she needed to convince him she was no shrinking violet when it came to sex. That he could trust her to give both of them something good even if she didn’t give him everything.
He sat rigidly, sucking in breaths as if he’d just run a marathon, waiting to see what she’d do next. Her plan had been to blow his mind, then blow him a kiss and walk out, leaving him to suffer. Instead, instinct moved her toward him.
The way he sat, thighs slightly spayed, eyes glued to her, was so hot, so tempting, she couldn’t end things here. Only she had to keep the upper-hand.
“Do you want more?” she asked, her voice dark and raspy.
Instead of speaking, he inclined his head slightly, a facsimile of a nod.
“Do you go to strip clubs?”
He hesitated only slightly. “I have.”
“Have you evah had a lap dance?”
“Yes.”
She liked his honesty, as well as the fact he didn’t look ashamed or embarrassed. “I assume you looked but didn’t touch?”
“That’s right. But…”
“But what?”
“But if you dance in my lap, Grace, I’m not sure I’ll be able to keep myself from touching you.”
His honesty stole her breath. It made heat spread through her. Made her feel powerful and sexy and in control. See? She liked this. She didn’t need to give up control in order to get turned on. In fact, the more control she wielded, the hotter she got. She’d prove it to him.
“But you will have to keep yourself from touchin’ me. I’m in control here. That’s what you promised me and that’s what I want.”
For a minute, he looked ready to argue with her, then the tension seemed to seep out of him. He slouched lower in his chair and made a production of putting his hands behind the back of his head. The position emphasized his muscled shoulders, biceps, and chest, making her think of a predator. “Go ahead and have your fun, Dixie.”
Dixie. She loved that something as simple as her southern roots had created an intimate bond between them, even if it was only a nickname.
Max continued speaking. “Just remember you asked for it when you’re the one being controlled.”
She refused to acknowledge how her core clenched with need. That’s never going to happen, she told herself. It doesn’t have to. Not if I do this right. She stole a quick glance at the one-way window and the locked door. Could she actually give Max a lap dance, then make him come right here and now?
“Don’t worry about my memory, Shugah. Worry about yours. Because right now I’m goin’ to make you forget evahthing but me.”
She advanced to within three feet of him. With her back arched, feet slightly more than hip-width apart and her toes turned out, she began a slow grinding circle. Max’s gaze stayed glued to her hips as she bent her knees then straightened. She repeated the movement before turning her back to him. With straight legs, she bent forward slightly, looked over her shoulder at him then slapped first one ass cheek then the other. “Have you evah spanked your lovers, Max?”
He visibly swallowed. “I’ve told you before, Grace. I’ve done whatever my lovers needed. Do you enjoy being spanked?”
“As I think I’m demonstratin’, I prefer to be in charge.”
He smiled thinly. “Keep telling yourself that, baby.”
She frowned. She wasn’t getting her message across. Determinedly, she danced into the triangle made by Max’s open legs, back still to him, feet together. Bending her knees but keeping her back straight, she placed her hands on Max’s knees. His body immediately tensed at her touch. Slowly, she lowered her bottom toward his lap until she just made contact. Then, keeping her hands on his knees for support, she grinded down, moving her hips in a circular motion.
“Doesn’t that feel nice as pie, Max? When I’m done playin’ with you,” she said, “I’m goin’ back to my hotel and I’m goin’ to take care of myself in a way that’s guaranteed to get me off. Next time, if you want to be the one to give me an orgasm, trust that I know what I need. Stop makin’ things so hard on yourself. Whether we label it control or not, let me direct you so you can get me there. And I promise I’ll give you what you need, too.”
When he didn’t respond, she turned and looked at him over her shoulder.
He was breathing hard again. He remained still, but he looked ready to explode. He smiled evilly. “Oh, I’m going to give you what you need, Grace. I guarantee it. And when I have, you’re going to dance for me again. Only you’re going to do it nekkid. You’re going to do it while I have my hands and mouth on you. And you’re going to know exactly who’s in control.”
Her movements faltered before she got going again. “You’re spoiled. Too used to gettin’ your own way. But I can see how much this is workin’ for you, Max.”
“It’s definitely working for me,” he said. “Everything you do works for me. Kiss me.”
She turned back again, having to block his look of need since it reflected everything she was feeling herself. “Uh-uh. This is my thing, remember? I get to give instructions.”
“Then tell me what you want.”
“I’ll show you instead.”
Turning to face him, she moved closer, gently leaned forward, and placed her hands on either side of his chair. Slowly, she pressed her breasts toward his face, then brushed from side to side, stroking the end of his nose with her nipples. The gentle pressure against her piercings made her nipples instantly harden into tight points. As if connected by an invisible cord, sharp tingles traveled from her nipples to the piercing at her clit. Her body involuntarily jerked, and she rubbed her nipples against him even harder.
He groaned and she felt a rush of victory sweep through her. Before she knew it, however, he’d opened his mouth and covered one nipple through her top. The heat and suction was so sudden and so amazing that she cried out.
Their gazes locked, giving her a perfect view of his cheeks hollowing as he sucked her. She should have moved back and scolded him, but she hesitated. What he was doing felt good. So, so good. But she could see by the gleam of satisfaction in his eyes that he thought he’d won, stealing control away from her.
She dropped her hand to his groin and cupped him through his shorts. His eyes widened even as his mouth loosened. She tried to move away, but his hands came up and gripped her hips.
She stroked him harder. Tighter. “I’m in charge,” she said breathlessly. “Let go or you ’n me are gonna mix.”
He laughed. “Is that a promise or a threat?”
“Both. Let go, Max.”
“Only if you promise you won’t,” he said.
She smiled at the naked need in his voice and, without realizing what she was doing, agreed. “I promise.”
When he released her she kept her word, continuing to explore his length and rigidity.
“Show me your piercings.”
“Later,” she said, rubbing against his face again while gripping him tightly.
He tipped his head back, and she couldn’t resist licking and nibbling at his throat. Getting more frantic, he arched his hips into her touch but she could tell he wasn’t anywhere close to coming.
Time to amp things up even more.
She dropped to her knees.
His head tilted down, eyes narrowed, and he watched as she teasingly traced his waistband with her fingertips.
“Do you want to come?”
“I want you,” he said.
Those three words dripped with such yearning that she almost caved. Almost told him to take whatever he needed. She wouldn’t care if she came or not. It would feel so good to hold him. To feel him slide inside her.
“I want to see your tattoo and your piercings. I want to see where else you’re pierced. I want to feel your nipple piercings against my tongue even as I fuck you. But this isn’t about what I want. I’m yours to control, remember? For my pleasure. For yours. You want to suck my dick? Suck it. But only because it will make you hot.”
She was already hotter than blue blazes yet she knew sucking him off would indeed make her hotter. She wanted to feel him against her core even more. She ached so badly. And he’d said he’d give her anything she wanted. No, he’d implied she could take it.
Without conscious thought, she straddled him, resting her hands on his shoulders. Swiftly, she began grinding down on him, their thin clothes barely any protection against the delicious friction that sent ripples of electric sensation zipping through her veins. She was sure he could feel how wet she was, and how much wetter she became with each second that passed. She could barely resist tearing their clothes off and shoving him inside her. But that would require breaking contact with him, and right now… right now…
Their breaths soughed together, loud and erratic. His deep groans mingled with her high cries of excitement. He gave her the illusion of control, not touching her, but the piercing intensity of his gaze kept her trapped as surely as the feel of his body did.
She closed her eyes, focusing on the rise of pleasure inside her. She could feel it building and building and building. But at some point, it faltered and she almost cried out in despair.
“You gonna come, baby?” he asked, causing her eyes to pop open. “You going to get what you need like this? Cause this is all for you.”
His heated words of encouragement made her body tighten and desire surged through her again. Her movements grew almost frantic as she sought release.
But it remained outside her grasp.
It wasn’t going to happen. No matter how badly she wanted it, no matter how determined she’d been to make him hot and take control of her own sexuality, she was going to fail again.
With a small whimper, she stopped moving and collapsed into him, burying her face in his neck. Her fingers clung tightly to his T-shirt as frustration thrummed through her. Immediately, he wrapped his arms around her, one hand cupping the back of her neck while the other rubbed soothing circles on her back.
She was so frustrated and embarrassed that she wanted to cry, but somehow she managed not to. Minutes passed. Eventually, she tried to pull away, but he stopped her.
She refused to look at him, instead staring at the floor. All she could think about was escaping his intense gaze. If she’d only stuck with her plan, directing and controlling his pleasure, she wouldn’t have to deal with having another talk about her sexual defects. Maybe it wasn’t too late…
She tried to slip away again, this time to return to where she’d been before, on her knees. His arms tightened, refusing to let her go.
“Look at me, Grace.”
With a sigh, she did.
“It’s okay…”
She laughed harshly. “Nothin’ about this is okay.”
He shook her slightly. “There’s nothing wrong with you.”
“How can you say that? I was into it. What we were doin’ was hot. I should have been able to—”
“Grind against me in a public gym for less than five minutes and make yourself come?”
“Five minutes, five hours, it wouldn’t have mattered. It wouldn’t matter where we were, either. I was almost there. I always almost get there. I just can’t cross the finish line.”
She used more force to pull away from him and this time he let her go. With a sigh and a teasing smile, he also stood. “Five hours? Really?”
She rolled her eyes. “You know what I mean.”
Arms crossed, he leaned against the wall. “What I know is you’ve somehow gotten it into your head that if you can’t orgasm, sexual pleasure isn’t worth a damn.”
“Like you think any differently? Would you be okay settlin’ for morsels that only leave you starvin’ for a full meal?”
“I wouldn’t be okay with it. But I hope I’d appreciate what I could get. And I’d keep working toward more.”
“I guess I’m just not as enlightened as you are.”
“No. You’re frustrated because you’ve been dealing with the reality of this for years. I get it. But you’re also embarrassed and ready to give up as a result. Again. And I’m telling you I’m not going to let that happen.”
“It’s not up to you. Look, I’m sorry for wastin’ your time but I can’t do this again. Not with you. Not with anyone. But thank you for all your help.”
She moved toward the door.
He straightened and stepped in front of it, blocking her escape.
He stared at her.
She stared back.
She waited for him to give up and move aside.
He didn’t.
“Max?”
“Giving over control to me scares you that much, doesn’t it?”
“Max—”
He stepped toward her and she instinctively backed up. He kept coming. She kept backing away. Until her back hit the wall and he caged her in with his arms on either side. He leaned in close, until she saw nothing but the pure perfection of his hazel eyes. “We had a deal. I gave it up and you enjoyed it. No, you didn’t go all the way, but I’m not a quitter and neither are you, Dixie. We’ve barely gotten started.”
She flattened her palms on his chest and pushed, not budging him an inch. Beneath his workout shirt, he was muscled. Hard. Luscious. She curled her fingers into fists. “What’s the point in gettin’ started? You want me to admit I want you? That I see you as more than a tool to get me off? Fine. I want you, Max. Y. O. U. But that doesn’t matter. Even with you givin’ me anythin’ and everthin’ I want, I can’t even—”
He took hold of her arms and lightly shook her. “I haven’t given you everything you want, Grace, because I haven’t figured out what that is. Despite your attempts to protect yourself, I will. You want me? Well, I want you,” he said. “I want to explore you. I want to savor you. And I want you to do the same with me. I want to prove doing those things is a reward in and of itself, and worth any frustration you might have to deal with.”
“You’re talkin’ in circles. One second you say you’ll get me off. The next you’re tellin’ me I need to accept gettin’ off isn’t necessary to enjoy sex. You really think you’re good enough to juggle both those concepts at once?”
“I think we’re going to be that good. You had your turn at control. It’s only fair you give me mine.”
She stared at him. “I don’t know what you want me to say. All I can say is what I said before. I’ll try.”
He seemed to ponder her words before reaching some mysterious conclusion, after which he released her, stepped back and nodded. “Fine. This time, I’m willing to accept that answer.”
“Why now and not before?”
“Because now I’m beginning to understand the reason you came to me the other night isn’t because of my reputation as a playboy, but as a bad boy.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means you giving up control isn’t what you need, Grace. Me taking it away from you is.”
***
“You’re high as a kite.”
“Am I?”
“You are if you think I’m goin’ to let you ‘take’ anythin’ from me. I’m not into the BDSM scene, Max. Whips and chains don’t work for me.”
“How do you know? Have you ever tried it?”
“I know.”
He shrugged. “That’s not what I’m talking about anyway. I don’t need leather and chains to take what you need me to take from you, Grace. A private room, you armed with your safe word, and the two of us naked, preferably with a bed in the mix, will do just fine.”
“And what if I don’t want you to take what you’re so dead set on takin’? You’re goin’ to hold me down and make me?”
“Assuming you don’t use your safe word? That’s right.”
“You are high.”
“And just the thought of me holding you down and taking everything you have to give me, everything you secretly want to give me, has you turned on.”
“You’re wrong.”
“I’m not. The piercings, that damn sexy tattoo on your back—which I am going to see before this day is over—all your talk about knowing what you like and part of that being control, hell even the pole-dancing and lap dance… That’s all part of you, yes, but mostly it’s a cover to hide what you really want. What you’re really most ashamed of. You can try to fool yourself, but you’re not fooling me. Lots of women get off on being dominated. It’s nothing to be embarrassed about.”
“I’m not embarrassed, it’s just not true. You can think whatevah you want, but if you intend to hold me down and take anythin’ from me, that changes things. I’m leavin’.”
“I thought we already established you’re not leaving until I’m ready to let you leave.”
His utter gall amazed her. Her own undeniable reaction, evidenced by the moisture that pooled between her thighs and by the near-painful tightening of her nipples, shocked her.
This time, she didn’t walk toward the door. She lunged and ran.
Before she knew it, he had her against the wall, his body pressing into hers, her wrists pinned at either side of her head. Instinctively, she fought him. Kicked out and tried to push him away. But he didn’t budge, and she was faced with how strong he was. How his suave, sophisticated, civilized exterior was a complete and utter sham. Deep down, he was a bad boy. He just didn’t need a leather jacket and biker boots to announce it to the world.
Fear trickled through her, but he was right—arousal was there, too. So much arousal that she had to actually go looking for the fear. But she found it, and clung desperately to it. She had to. A grown woman who got off on being dominated by a man? Forced by a man?
“Look at me, Grace.”
“Go to hell.” It was on the tip of her tongue to say it. Mango. But she didn’t.
Because she didn’t really want him to let her go.
He transferred both her wrists to one hand, pinned them over her head, then cupped her chin with his other hand and made her look at him. Even as he did, she was conscious of how gentle his touch was. “What did I promise you last night?”
“You promised a lot of things,” she shot back.
“I promised I wouldn’t hurt you, and if you didn’t like something I did, after giving it a fair shot, I’d stop. You trusted me then and you have to trust me now.”
“I’ll trust you if you let go. This isn’t you, Max. You’re not a sexual barbarian.”
“I already told you, Grace, I’m whatever my lover needs me to be. A sexual barbarian might not be who I am most of the time, but it’s part of me. Just like wanting to be sexually submissive is just a part of you. It doesn’t define you. Outside the bedroom, it doesn’t mean a goddamn thing.”
What he was saying made so much sense, but the fact he was persuading her just freaked her out even more. She struggled some more to no avail. “Max, I’m not kiddin’. You need to stop. Keep it up and I swear, I’ll cancel your birth certificate. I’ll cut your tail. I’ll slap you to sleep, then slap you for sleeping. I’ll—”
With his body pressed against hers, she felt how he shook with laughter.
“This isn’t funny,” she snapped.
He struggled to wipe the amusement from his expression and finally succeeded. “Calm down and look at me.”
“I am lookin’ at you.”
“No, Grace, really look at me.”
She did.
“Am I hurting you?”
“No.”
“Then what are you scared of? Besides, as we’ve already established, losing that precious control we talked so much about.”
“I don’t know. I’m just—I don’t like this.”
“You’re scared of it,” he said. “Of what it’s making you feel. You came to me, Dixie, and now I see you came to me because you’re tired. You want me to take care of things for you. So let me.” He bent and kissed her neck, then nipped at her, the resulting pain contrasting sharply with the way his tongue immediately soothed the area.
She couldn’t help it.
She sighed.
He pulled back, awareness and satisfaction in his gaze. “This is your last chance. Decide you’re going to trust me or we stop things now and walk away. Say the word, and this is done and I won’t bring it up again. But think carefully before you give me your answer. And study what you’re feeling right now. Is it fear or is it desire that has your pulse beating so fast?”
It was desire. Pure desire. She liked the feeling of being pinned down by him. She liked the idea of not having to take responsibility of her pleasure, of her damn orgasm, anymore. But she still couldn’t admit it. All she managed to get out was, “Tell me what you mean by making me take what you have to give me.”
“I mean you’re going to take everything I have to give you. Every inch. Every drop. And when the time’s right, you’re going to come. Because I’m not going to give you any another choice.”
Her whole body trembled, all her muscles clenching, including the ones at her core. She felt empty. Achy. She wondered… if he was inside her at that moment, if she clamped down on the hard length of his cock… Would she come?
Without loosening his grip on her or lessening the pressure he was using to hold her down, he kissed her, plunging his tongue into her mouth again and again until she felt drugged. His soft lips contrasted so deliciously with his hard jaw, covered with just the beginnings of stubble. She imagined that roughness against the inside of her thighs, and felt her core spasm so hard that she bit his lip. He jerked then kissed her even harder. She lost track of how long they went at it. When he abruptly pulled away, she felt dizzy and disoriented.
She whimpered in distress and he immediately kissed her again, this time keeping the pressure light. Savoring. Comforting. Eventually, he graduated to sprinkling gentle, close-mouthed kisses across her face and throat.
Finally, he released her wrists. Pushing back her hair, he cupped her face. “You okay?”
She nodded.
“You still scared?”
“A little,” she whispered.
He stepped back. “Too scared to take my hand?”
He held out his hand, his implicit message clear. She couldn’t say it yet. She couldn’t admit she wanted what he said she did. But by taking his hand, she wouldn’t have to.
She couldn’t justify it. She couldn’t rationalize it. It was just something she felt deep down in her soul. If she was ever going to trust anyone with the hidden parts of herself, it would be him.
It was now or never.
She took his hand.