Dangerous Master (11 page)
A kiss that made her blood burn through her body.
When he released her, he looked at her with dilated eyes and a flushed face. His lips were swollen from the kiss. The heated expression on his face could probably cause a weaker girl to combust. Mandy practically did.
“That was some reward,” she said, her voice sounding as shaky as she felt.
“That was only the beginning. You’ve surprised me, Mandy. Nobody does that.” He kissed her again, and she practically came when his tongue plunged into her mouth to taste and stroke and possess.
He kissed very much like he did everything else. With an intensity she found incredibly thrilling.
This time, when he broke the kiss, he reached between her legs. He plunged his fingers into her slick heat and dragged some of her juices forward, to her clit, before teasing it with light, quick strokes.
She threw her arms over his shoulders, using his body to steady herself, and closed her eyes. Her head fell back. Stars danced behind her closed eyelids. Her breathing quickened. Her heartbeat sped up. Her body temperature rose to a nearly fatal level.
Somehow, the toy raised up. The end of it slipped between her nether lips to remain inside her. But just barely.
Now, that was a tease. One of the worst she’d ever endured.
“You bastard,” she mumbled, not expecting him to hear her.
“What’s wrong, Amanda?” His tone was mocking. He knew exactly what was the matter.
She thought about lowering herself down and taking the entire toy’s length inside. She knew, for a fact, that it would feel good. Very good. “This isn’t a reward. It’s pure hell.”
“Patience, baby.” He added some lube, increasing the pressure on her clit. Her pussy clenched but the damn toy wasn’t in deep enough to give her any relief.
She slumped forward, boneless, and shook and trembled. He continued to torment her body with those deft fingers of his. Then, being beyond cruel, he started pinching her nipple, too, rolling it between his finger and thumb until it was so sensitive her jaw hurt from clenching it so hard.
This was so unfair. She’d come here tonight hoping he’d finally let himself become vulnerable, or at least take off his fucking clothes and let her suck his cock.
Burning up, she bit his neck and clawed at his shoulders and arms. The toy slipped deeper inside, penetrating her a few more inches. But once in place, it remained stationary, just like before.
She wanted a thick cock, yes. But a real one, pumping in and out of her. Attached to a real male body. This male body.
“Dammit, Zane. Why can’t I just have you?” Clinging to him, she threw her head back and groaned as a powerful climax rocketed through her body. Her pussy spasmed around the dildo. Her ass clenched around the butt plug. She heaved and huffed and quaked, and in the midst of her release, Zane’s arms enfolded her body, lifting it off the toy and cradling her against him.
“You will,” he whispered into her hair as he stroked it. “You will have me. All of me. But not yet.” He kissed her, then retrieved her dress. “We need to return to the guests. As much as we’d both like it, I can’t let you keep me to yourself for the whole evening.”
Feeling less than satisfied, Mandy dressed and, sliding her hand into his, followed Zane out into the hallway.
So much for his promise to make her fantasy come true. Evidently, tonight hadn’t been the “sometime” he’d been thinking of.
“About the retainer,” she began for the second time.
“Keep it.” At the top of the steps, he waved down at a man who was looking up at them. “Consider it a gift.”
“But, Zane—”
“Please.” He eased down the steps, making sure she stayed close to his side.
11
“W
e have a problem.”
e have a problem.”
Mandy had heard those words before. They were always the hallmark of disaster in her world. Particularly when they were spoken by a client. As was the case today.
Her mood plummeted.
“What’s wrong?”
The soon-to-be-ex-Mrs.-Clark set the pictures on Mandy’s desk, pointed a manicured fingertip at the woman in the photograph. “That’s me.”
“That’s you?”
Shit.
Shit.
“Yes, you see, I’d been harping on Andy about our nonexistent love life for a long time. But he’d never made any effort to change things. It was quite a surprise when he left the key and the card last week, telling me to wear a disguise and meet him at the hotel.” Mrs. Clark smiled. “That was one helluva afternoon.”
I bet.
“I guess these won’t do us any good, then.” Mandy shoved the pictures back into the envelope and handed them to Mrs. Clark for safekeeping. “So what’s the story? Are you still going through with your plans to divorce him?”
“I guess these won’t do us any good, then.” Mandy shoved the pictures back into the envelope and handed them to Mrs. Clark for safekeeping. “So what’s the story? Are you still going through with your plans to divorce him?”
“Absolutely! One fabulous afternoon does not a marriage make. He hasn’t touched me since.”
“Ooookay.” Mandy was getting tired of this case. Very tired.
“Since it was sort of my fault for you wasting your time, I want to give you an extra bonus.” Mrs. Clark pulled out her checkbook.
“That’s not necessary.”
“Yes, it is. I should’ve called you and let you know the blonde was me. You probably wasted at least an hour.”
More like three.
“I hope this is adequate compensation for your time.” She handed over the check.
Mandy glanced at the amount. Five hundred dollars. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” Flipping to a new check, she started writing again. “You haven’t billed me for your hours. But I’d like to get all paid up. How much do I owe you?”
“Let me take a look ...” Mandy checked the Clark log. She’d clocked over thirty hours in the last month. If she didn’t know for a fact that Mrs. Clark couldn’t care less how much she paid, she’d feel more than a little guilty for asking for so much money without having produced any results whatsoever. “This month, I clocked thirty-three hours.”
Mrs. Clark didn’t blink an eye. “You’ve been working hard. I appreciate it.” She signed the check and handed it to Mandy. “The amount is correct, right?”
Nine hundred ninety dollars. “Yes, that’s correct.” Mandy stared at the check for a moment. Guilt was getting the better of her. “Look, Mrs. Clark—”
“I understand Andrew is being very cautious, and that’s causing some difficulty.” Mrs. Clark pulled out her checkbook again. “How much can I pay you to stay on the case?”
“It’s not about the money. I feel bad enough about what you’ve paid me already. I have never billed a client for so many hours. Your husband is being extraordinarily cautious. I haven’t been able to get a photograph of him yet, and I’ve seen him in some extremely... delicate situations.” She took a deep breath. “The bottom line is, I may not be able to get the proof you need.” Mrs. Clark slumped into the chair, looking boneless. Her head dropped. She didn’t speak for a few agonizing seconds. “I am sorry. I’ve done everything I could to help you. But, from the looks of things, I’m beginning to believe your husband isn’t being unfaithful. At least not technically.”
“What does that mean?” she asked, raising pain-filled eyes to Mandy’s.
“It means... your husband is involved in some unusual activities, involving bondage and D / s, strippers and peep shows. But from what I’ve witnessed during those activities, he’s refraining from any sexual contact.”
“Great,” she mumbled on a sigh. “Lucky me, I’m stuck with the jerk if I can’t get him on infidelity.” She turned pleading eyes toward Mandy. “Do you have any idea how horrible it is to live in a lonely, loveless marriage?”
Mandy would never have guessed the Clark marriage was loveless after witnessing that very heated exchange last week. “No, I don’t. But I can guess.”
“You couldn’t possibly know.” Mrs. Clark chewed on her lower lip. Her eyes reddened. Oh, damn. She was going to cry. Mandy never knew what to do when somebody cried in front of her. “I’m so fucking lonely... .” She snuffled. She dripped. She smudged her eye makeup all over her face. “I just want somebody to love me. Is that such a bad thing?”
“Of course, it isn’t.” Mandy sat there, feeling awkward and not knowing what to say.
Mrs. Clark sat there shaking and sniffling, waiting for her to say something.
“I’ll keep trying.”
Mrs. Clark’s waterworks dried up. “You will?” She blinked a few times. A fat tear dribbled down her cheek.
“Yes.”
“I’ll pay whatever you say. Money’s no object.” Mrs. Clark pulled out her checkbook again. “How about I give you another retainer? Let’s say, another thousand? That should cover you for a while.” She began scribbling furiously.
“No, please.”
“I insist.” She ripped the check out of the book and tried to hand it to Mandy.
“If I need that many hours—”
“Dammit, take the fucking money!” Mrs. Clark screeched. Her eyes were bugged so far out of her head, she looked like a pug.
Stunned by Mrs. Clark’s outburst, Mandy snatched the check out of her hand.
Mrs. Clark’s expression instantly changed back to mournful wife. She stood. “Thank you for your time, Miss Thompson. We’ll be in touch soon, I hope.”
“Yes.” Still reeling from Mrs. Clark’s bizarre behavior, Mandy watched her client saunter out of her office.
Two minutes later, Sarah raced in and flung herself into the chair opposite Mandy’s desk. “Spill.”
“I tried to do the right thing.” Mandy gathered Mrs. Clark’s checks into a tidy stack.
“Right thing? What the hell are you talking about?”
“I’m talking about Mrs. Clark. Isn’t that what you’re asking me about?”
“No.” Sarah leaned forward. “But now that you’re on the subject, I’d like to hear about her, too. Did I hear her actually scream at you?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because I was trying to drop her case.”
“Why?”
“Because I don’t believe her husband is being unfaithful, as is defined in her prenup, and I don’t feel it’s right milking her for more money.”
“Uhn. I see your dilemma.”
“Yeah.”
“So, what are you going to do?”
“I don’t know. I accepted her check, but only because I was a little afraid of what she might do if I didn’t.”
“Gotcha. Maybe you could just tear it up and not cash it? Then you wouldn’t feel obligated to her for anything.”
“But what if she calls me next week for an update? Then what?”
“Then you lie.”
“I can’t do that. She’ll believe I’m still working the case. It would give her false hope.”
“You really believe he’s not cheating on her?”
“Not technically.”
“What about when he went to the motel with that stripper?”
“We
think
he went to a motel. We don’t actually know he did.”
think
he went to a motel. We don’t actually know he did.”
“True, that. But what about the peep show? You know he went to one of those. And didn’t you say he wasn’t alone?”
“Again, I have no proof he did anything but watch.”
“Really. Are you that gullible?”
Mandy wanted to tell Sarah about what had happened with him at the dungeon; she really did. But she just couldn’t seem to force the words out. Instead, she mumbled, “I guess I’ll keep working the case. I just won’t waste a lot of time on it so that I don’t have to bill her for any more hours.”
“There you go. Problem solved.” Sarah flung one knee over the other. “Now, tell me what happened at Zane’s party.”
Mandy’s face sizzled.
“Oooh, girl! It was that good? I have got to hear this. And don’t you dare leave anything out. Not one measly detail. I have been waiting since Friday. Do you know how hard it was to be so patient?”
“I’m sure it was difficult.”
“You have no idea.”
That was the second time somebody had said that to her today.
Zane tried to shove the image of Amanda from his mind as he opened the door.
A familiar face greeted him. Lips curled up into a ghost of a smile. A flicker of need shone in dark eyes. “It’s been a long time,” Zane’s guest said, stepping inside. “Too long.”
“Are you complaining?” Still haunted by the memory of this past Friday night, those few moments he’d shared with Amanda, Zane pulled his guest to him. He curled his fingers into deep brown-black waves, pulling to force his visitor’s head to one side.
“No. Never.” Bruce shivered as Zane’s teeth grazed down the column of his neck.
Zane inhaled deeply, drawing the scent of man and need and hunger deep into his lungs. This man needed him. More than anyone ever had. He knew that. And, for the first time, he felt guilty. It was, after all, his fault. Maybe he had made a mistake all those years ago, choosing one person to see to his most basic need.
Unfortunately, there was no going back to change things now.
In his defense, how could he have foreseen this?
A woman had bewitched him.
A woman.
A woman.
If anyone had suggested that could happen, even a few months ago, he would have laughed. When it came to submissives, gender didn’t matter. He enjoyed dominating both. But when it came to lovers, he had always preferred men. That preference had been so strong, he’d never contemplated the possibility of one day falling in love with a woman.
Okay, first off, he wasn’t in love. He wasn’t so soft that he’d fall in love after such a short time.
But he was mesmerized. Intrigued. Bewitched. It irritated him how she’d sauntered into his mind and refused to leave. Thoughts of her haunted him. During the day. At night. In his dreams.
Zane’s tongue darted out, stealing his first taste of Bruce’s skin. As always, the flavor sent waves of anticipation rippling through Zane’s body. He would feed soon, quenching the hunger that could never be fully satisfied.
Zane released his visitor, leading him deeper into the house. Up the stairs. To his suite, where they could be comfortable. “Drink?” He went to the stocked bar.
“Thanks.”
Zane dropped a few ice cubes into a rock glass and poured some bourbon over them. He turned, handing the glass to his guest. Their gazes tangled. Bruce’s fingertips grazed his as he accepted the glass.
“Thank you,” Bruce said. He took a swallow. His tongue swept across his lower lip as he lowered the glass. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” Zane poured himself a drink, even though it wouldn’t ease his thirst, nor would the alcohol have any effect on his mood.
Bruce took another drink, then set down the glass. Saying nothing, he tugged his button-down shirt out of the waistband of his pants.
Zane drained his glass as his guest slowly unbuttoned his shirt, revealing a gradually widening vee of tanned, smooth skin stretched over taut muscle.
Bruce was as gorgeous, as flawless, as the first day Zane had met him all those years ago. And yet...
Damn Amanda for doing this to him. To them.
Zane refilled his glass. He tossed his head back, gulping the bourbon. How he wished it would do more than burn his damn throat.
Now shirtless, his guest approached him. He slanted his brows at Zane as he took the glass from Zane’s hand. “I’ve never seen you like this.”
“I said it’s nothing. I’m fine.” Driven by frustration, Zane captured Bruce’s face between his hands and kissed him. Their tongues stroked and battled. His lover’s hands grasped at Zane’s clothes, tugging, pulling, tearing. Zane released his lover’s face to torment his flat nipples with his fingertips, pinching, tugging.
Bruce’s groan filled their joined mouths.
Zane broke the kiss. Their gazes met again.
His lover’s lips, now swollen from their kiss, parted slightly. His chest rose and fell swiftly. His dark eyes smoldered with hard male need. “How much longer will you make me wait, dammit?”
Zane knew what he had to do.
“You know how I love to make you suffer?” He led Bruce out of his suite, unable for some reason to share his bed with him today. He took him to the guest room. His lover asked no questions.
“Undress. I want to see you.”
“I’ve been aching to hear those words.”
Zane swallowed hard. He rubbed his cock through his clothes as Bruce stripped off his shoes, socks, pants, and finally his boxer-briefs. His gaze swept up and down his lover’s body, taking in all the glory of its perfection, from the broad shoulders to the nipped waist to the well-defined abs and thick, muscular thighs. Finally, it landed upon his lover’s erect cock, its ruddy head already glistening with precum.
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