Riding Dirty (27 page)

The building didn’t have a door, so he moved an aluminum panel in front of the space. Then he blocked it with a washing machine. Moonlight filtered in through a few torn places in the roof, but there were no windows.

No way out.

Mia watched him barricade the exit. She stood frozen in place, glancing around warily. “Now what, we hide?”

He shook his head as he walked toward her. “Now you talk.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

M
IA WASN’T AFRAID
of Cole.

Not
really
.

She didn’t think he’d hurt a woman, any woman, but she’d never seen him like this. He’d disregarded her personal safety on the ride over. Maybe he’d disregard his moral code and the Dirty Eleven rules, as well.

He must have gotten rid of the listening device in the shop and not said anything to his friend about it. Jigsaw might not have let Cole take her away if he’d known about the bug. Whatever Cole had planned for her, it wasn’t good. They weren’t here to play outlaws for a sexual thrill.

This was real.

And she’d come along willingly. She’d read his anger loud and clear. She was aware of the risks. Accompanying him on this renegade trip wasn’t just foolhardy, it was dangerous. She wasn’t sure why she’d agreed. Probably because she was crazy, and getting crazier every minute. She couldn’t bear the thought of their affair ending with her betrayal.

He came toward her, a muscle in his jaw flexing as he unbuckled his belt. He slid it from the denim loops and placed it on the surface of a washing machine. Like a snake waiting to strike. “We can do this the easy way or the hard way.”

She took a step back and bumped into a folding table. There was nowhere to go. “What’s the hard way?”

He smiled without humor. “Take off your clothes.”

Mia didn’t want to tell him that she’d planned to seduce him and manipulate him, or that she’d been blackmailed by Damon. Cole would be crushed by the extent of her deception. He’d also want to kill Damon. If she started talking, he’d keep asking questions, and everything would spill out, including the fact that she was in love with him. But he wouldn’t believe it. He’d think she’d been lying to him all along. It was better to stay silent.

And submit.

She’d fantasized about this. Him using her roughly. Holding her down or tying her up. She craved his dark punishment, and she wanted to see how far he would take it. How hard he’d push. Holding his gaze, she removed her boots and jeans. Then she unbuttoned her vest and let it fall, revealing the leather corset.

His eyes glinted with hunger. After a moment of deliberation, he reached into his backpack for a shop rag and a bottle of water. Dampening the rag, he wiped down the dusty folding table behind her. He inspected the structure and must have deemed it acceptable for his purposes, because he patted the clean surface. She boosted herself up on the edge, which was about the same height as a washing machine or kitchen countertop.

He knelt to peel off her trouser socks, which were thin and black. When he tied one around each wrist, forming a pair of silky cuffs, Mia moistened her lips, uneasy. He was going to do wicked things to her to make her talk. She didn’t know if she could withstand the erotic torture. She might enjoy it, like the hard spanking he’d delivered the other night. Or she might squirm and cry and beg him to stop.

Her blood pounded in her veins and a beat pulsed between her legs, heavy and hot. Her nipples pebbled against the leather cups of her corset.

Cole glanced around the shadowy interior, removing a knife from his boot. Instead of slicing off her panties, he cut the electrical cords from two different machines and came forward, studying the table legs.

She inhaled a sharp breath as he threaded the cord through the cuff at her left wrist. Then he looped it around her knee and tied it to the table leg. He repeated the motion on the right side, spreading her thighs wide. In two efficient minutes, she was completely unable to move. Her hands were tied to her knees, which were tied to the table.

He didn’t ask if she was comfortable. She wasn’t. The electrical cord bit into her tender skin on the inside of her thighs, but that was a minor discomfort. With her legs pulled open and bound tight, she felt intensely vulnerable. Exposed, even with her panties on. The skimpy lace strip barely covered the lips of her sex, and she was wet. Her body apparently hadn’t gotten the message that she was scared and uncertain.

Once she was secure, he set up the scene. He turned on the headlamp, flooding her with light. Then he took her purse out of his backpack and rifled through it, studying each item. Stoking her tension.

“Mia Russo,” he said, reading her driver’s license.

“You knew Richards wasn’t my real name.”

He held the card between his fingertips. “Neither is Russo.”

She didn’t say anything.

He left the cards on the surface of the washing machine and looked in the change purse, where she’d tucked a few bobby pins. He found something else: a single-use packet of lube.

“What’s this for?”

She’d bought the lube weeks ago and forgotten all about it. She’d planned to use it to mimic arousal, which clearly hadn’t been necessary. “I’m sure you know.”

“Tell me.”

“It’s for...anal.”

“You’d let me fuck you in the ass?”

She squirmed against the bindings, reluctant to say yes. She had limited experience with that particular act, and she couldn’t say she wanted him to initiate her further. He was big and it would hurt.

He smirked, as if reading her mind. “I’m not in the mood for slow and gentle, so I hope you like it rough there, too.”

“I don’t.”

“Have you been using this to get your pussy wet?”

“What do you think?”

“I think you’re a fucking liar,” he growled, stepping forward. He clamped his hand across her throat, his thumb pressing against her vein. “If I still had the bug you attached to my cut, I’d shove
that
up your ass.”

Her pulse pounded wildly. “I’m not afraid of you.”

“You should be.”

After a long moment, he let go of her neck. He peeled down the cups of her corset, exposing her breasts. The snug leather pushed her breasts up higher than usual, forming two plump offerings. Her nipples were stiff.

“Are you aroused?”

“Yes.”

“Do you get this hot for everyone, or just me?”

“Just you.”

He pinched her nipples and she moaned. Her pussy clenched at the sweet sting. She wanted this. Whatever he could dish out. She would be his plaything, his doll to hurt and twist and shape. She longed for his rough touch and the resulting emotional release. It would cleanse her and satisfy him.

When her nipples were hard enough to suit him, he put her bobby pins to good use, attaching one to each pink tip. She gasped at the erotic trap, arching her spine. He flicked his fingernails over her nipples, back and forth. The more he played with her, the sharper the sensation became. She felt it tingling along her skin, throbbing between her legs.

He cupped his hand there, tracing her slit through the drenched lace. She squirmed at his barely there graze. Then he patted her clit a few times, spanking her pussy with his fingertips. She flinched and shuddered, aroused beyond belief. He tugged the wet fabric aside, exposing her swollen flesh.

“Yes,” she said. “Please.”

“Please what?”

“Touch me.”

He left her panties askew, her nipples pinned and her pussy untouched. “Who do you work for?”

She took ragged breaths, not answering.

“Are you FBI?”

“God. No.”

“DEA?”

“I’m just a psychologist.”

“Are you fucking Vargas?”

“No,” she panted. “Never.”

“Who do you belong to?”

“You.”

“Does he know about us?”

Her silence was as good as a yes. Cole drove two fingers into her slick pussy, thrusting deep. Then he brought the wet fingers to her parted lips. She sucked them greedily, letting him fuck her eager mouth.

“Have you been recording our conversations?” he asked, withdrawing.

“No.”

“Has Vargas?”

“I...I don’t know.”

“Did you sabotage the air-conditioning in your office?”

Mia didn’t care about keeping secrets anymore. She couldn’t think, couldn’t hold back. She could only feel. “Yes.”

“Did you lock your keys in your car on purpose?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“I wanted you,” she said. “Please. Fuck me.”

He retrieved his belt, which sent a thrill down her spine. “I’ll fuck you when you tell me the truth, and not a second before. I won’t let you come, either. I’ll just toy with you until you beg for mercy.”

She tugged on her bindings, which had become increasingly restrictive. Her nipples were burning and her pussy wept for his attention. She wanted to free her hands to stroke herself, to reach out and stroke him.

“I hate you,” she said, every nerve on edge.

He smiled coldly, relishing her discomfort. Then he used the tip of his belt to slap her quivering inner thighs. It didn’t feel like his hand, which delivered a broad smack. This was just a hot little lick, a flickering kiss. He turned his attention to her breasts. When the leather hit her already-sensitive nipples, knocking away the bobby pins, she cried out in shock. Removing the pressure hurt more than applying it. Blood rushed into the swollen tips. She almost swooned from the intensity. Her skin was flushed, nipples on fire.

After a few seconds, the burn faded. He repositioned her panties over her sex and doubled up his belt. She moaned as he whacked the leather against her lace-covered clit. The light, hard slaps weren’t enough to get her off, but she was stimulated to an excruciating degree. She needed to come. Now.

“Please,” she whimpered.

“Ready to talk?”

“Yes. Damn you.”

“Your real name is Michelle,” he said. “Vargas investigated your husband’s death. I read about it online.”

Oh God. She’d revealed too much personal information. He’d put the pieces together.

“He visited you on Sunday. I saw a photo of you in your robe with that motherfucker on your doorstep.”

A chill shuddered down her spine. “It’s not what you think.”

“Why did you bug me?”

“He made me.”

“Vargas? How?”

She moistened her lips, trembling. She’d said too much already.

“Have you two been plotting together from the start?”

“No. He didn’t know about us until the night of the rally.”

“He was there?”

“Yes.”

“So you acted on your own, is that it? You rigged the air conditioner and locked your keys in your car just because you wanted to fuck. And you were carrying lube in case we decided to switch it up a little. That’s your story?”

“I’d planned to seduce you,” she whispered. “That’s why I had the lube. I didn’t know if I’d be able to relax enough to get aroused with you.”

“Why would you seduce me?”

“I thought I could tell you about my husband’s killers, and maybe you would find them. Get revenge.”

“Kill them for you?”

“It was crazy,” she said, her stomach churning. “Crazy and stupid. But my life was so empty, and I missed him so much...until I met you.”

He shook his head in denial.

“That day with the air conditioner, I realized I couldn’t go through with it. I couldn’t use you that way. But I’d already locked my keys in my car, and you came along, and I was lonely. I wanted to escape, just like you. I wanted to be reckless, and you made me feel alive. I wasn’t trying to trick you.”

“Why did you agree to be my girlfriend?”

“Because...I’m in love with you.”

He dropped the belt and fisted his hands in her hair. “Don’t you ever fucking lie to me,” he said in a hoarse voice. “Not about that.”

“I’m not.”

After a moment of studying her face, he released her, cursing under his breath. “How am I supposed to believe you, Mia? Do you think you can fool me with pretty words instead of going straight for my cock?”

“No,” she said, her throat closing up.

“You know me. You know I wanted to be close to someone.”

Hot tears spilled down her cheeks. “I wanted to be close to someone, too. I never meant to fall in love with you.”

“Did Vargas threaten you?”

She drew in a sharp breath. “No.”

“You’re lying,” he said in a dangerous voice. “You’re not a good liar. Or maybe you’re just not good at lies you haven’t practiced.”

He was right. She wished she’d had the foresight to think of a plausible excuse. She should have said she
was
FBI. Instead she’d been as honest as she could, and gained nothing. He didn’t believe her.

She squeezed her eyes shut as he untied the electrical cord at both knees. Instead of freeing her, he lifted her up and turned her around, bending her over the table. He secured her wrists at opposite ends. Her breasts flattened against the cool surface and her heart pounded with trepidation.

“I’m going to fuck the lies out of you,” he said, stripping her panties down her hips. “They’re going to spill all over the table when you come.”

She watched over her shoulder as he unbuttoned his fly, freeing his erection. He placed the tip of his cock against her slick sex and gripped her hips, entering her in one brutal thrust. Although she was more than ready for him, she gasped at the deep invasion. Before she could catch her breath, he withdrew and drove in again, burying himself to the hilt. He repeated the motion, jerking her hips toward his lap and spearing her on his cock. She couldn’t move her upper body, but she braced herself on the balls of her feet as he jackhammered her into the table. She’d never been fucked so thoroughly. There was no tenderness in his possession, no finesse. No attempt to give her pleasure. He just used her, and used her hard.

It was over almost as soon as it started, which was good. Any more of his rough pounding and she wouldn’t be able to walk tomorrow. Her pussy had already taken a beating. Her hips felt bruised from his fingertips.

Grunting like a caveman, he pulled out and jammed his cock against her ass. Then he grabbed her by the hair, holding her head down in a tight grip. With his other hand, he pumped his cock furiously. He came right there, hot spurts jetting over her ass.