The Dom With the Perfect Brats (9 page)

“Where did the table and chairs come from?” Izzy smoothed her hand over the rustic patina of the table. “They look Italian or something.”

“
My buddy, Jude, made them for me. The man’s a genius with hammer and nails and carving tools.”

“Wow. My dad could do some carving, but not like this.”
Not that she’d seen him for years. Her summer stays in the US had petered out after a few years. So far she’d not ventured to contact him. The thought of rejection always tied her in knots. She shoved away those morbid thoughts. Here and now was important, not her past sadness.

“Like to see some of the other things
Jude made?”

“Sure.” Gemma stood. “We’ll
clean up after you give us a tour of your loft.”

“What else
is there?” Izzy asked as she rose to her feet.

“My bed and side tables.” Cross stopped after that, and waited,
perhaps to see if they’d chicken out. “Willing to venture into my sex-lair?” His lips curved up just a mite.

Sex lair?

The pulse beating in Izzy’s temples strengthened to the point that she could barely hear Gemma’s reply.
Gemma gave a wry smile. “A sex lair! Hmm. Should we risk it, Izzy? Should we follow the man into his sex lair to check out his bed? Lamest excuse to get girls into your bedroom ever, by the way. Try some subtlety next time.”

Izzy tried to signal to Gemma a warning.
Tempting the dragon just before he shows off his cave, not good.

Cross set his chair into the table and came around behind them. For a moment, his hand rested on Izzy’s back and the heat communicate
d instant desire, setting every part of her body zinging to attention.
Beware, this is a man
, seemed branded into her by his palm.

Fuck yeah
.

“Bold words, Miss Gemma. I
can see you won’t back down from a challenge.” He turned to Izzy. “But what about you, little one? Do you trust me enough? If I make any moves, I promise you they will be ones that you both welcome.”

Oh hell.
Izzy shut her eyes for a moment. Those words were so arrogant, yet that was precisely what she loved about them. Cross had found some sort of strange button to press in her head, and every time he did she wanted him to do it again.

Cross

They paused to admire the dividing screen Cross used to separate the kitchen/dining/living room from the bedroom area for so long he started to suspect they were avoiding going into such a private area of the apartment.

“Did you paint this?” Gemma whispered, gazing at the panoramic painting of angels versus demons on the screen.

“No, Malachi painted it for me in lieu of rent the first month the shop opened.” He pointed to his favorite section. “This is the scene on my back, Gemma.”

“How did that translate into ink?” She plucked boldly at Cross’ shirt, as though prompting him to strip it off.

He raised a brow at her and she made the same face back, hand on her hip. A challenge.

“Trying to get me naked already? You two are fast moving. Next you’re going to tell me that my virtue will be safe and we’ll just cuddle in our underwear.” He
smirked and peeled off his t-shirt.

“Um.” Izzy’s
eyes were big, but whether the reaction was to his tattoos or his muscle was questionable.

“Dayum.” Gemma muttered under her breath. She reached out a finger and started to trace it over some of his larger tats. When she got to his nipple she stopped
and pulled her hand away, as though abruptly reminded Cross wasn’t canvas.

From behind him Izzy whistled. “It’s more intimidating as a tattoo than it is on the divider.”

It was nice to hear every time, especially since his best piece was on his back where he could only see it in mirrors or in pictures. Although he had to admit he was pretty fond of his new gargoyle.

Gemma stood behind him for a long while, until Cross actually started getting uncomfortable.

“Nothing like making a guy feel like a piece of meat.”

“Huh? Sorry. I was looking at how Malachi did the shading here.” Her fingers brushed over his ribs and the hair on the back of his neck stood on end. Cross breathed deep
ly and tried to ignore the hard-on that was more than happy to have a woman’s hands on his body again.

He crouched and flipped the floor latch, rolling the screen back into the wall to reveal the spacious bedroom area – which Jude had jokingly dubbed his sex lair. Bastard.
Half of the ideas in the room had been his. The term was apparently some sort of inside joke he had with his girls.

The Big Evil Bed might have been a little over the top. No g
irls other than Jude’s two had seen it yet, but since they’d been in on the design and watched Jude build it, they didn’t see it with fresh eyes. The king-sized four-poster dominated the space, the gnarled stripped logs of the posts stained almost black. Rings were recessed into various parts of the posts – there to secure willing victims in a multitude of bondage configurations. It was perfect how the rings disappeared again when the ropes were removed. There was a pocket frame in the top of the wooden canopy for a mirror, if he ever chose to go there, but that seemed a little cheesy when showing it to someone new.

Cross glanced at the two girls. Izzy’s hand slid over the wood appreciatively, while Gemma looked like she was at a loss for words.

“What a beautiful piece.” Izzy grinned. “Custom made, no doubt. Not Malachi too?”

“No, no. Jude made it for me. You think it’s pretty?”

“Yeah, the same way you’re pretty,” Gemma teased. “With a big side of scary and just a little ugly. How many girls have you defiled on your...sex platform?” She indicated the bed with a crooked smile.

Cross sighed dramatically. “None. It’s new.”

“These are clever,” Izzy said, pulling an o-ring out from its hiding place. “I almost didn’t notice them. And they’re for...”

Gemma laughed. “Oh my
god, Izzy. Seriously? That’s what he wants to tie you to.”

“What? Oh.” Izzy reddened endearingly, and Cross let his gaze slip away before she saw the confirmation there.
But she didn’t seem horrified. Compared to dating a girl who knew her kinks, this was like walking into a minefield blindfolded. He’d go slowly and keep his senses on high alert. These two were worth it.

“I don’t generally tie up girls on the first date.” He chuckled. “Call me
old-fashioned.”

“But you tied
us
up.” Izzy looked at Gemma for back-up.

“Yeah, Cross. Your intentions toward us are honorable, aren’t they?” The little brat smirked. She leaned into him and walked her fingers up his chest mock-seductively. When she got to his mouth he moved quickly and nipped her fingertip.

“Hey!” she squeaked, grabbing her injured digit with her other hand. “That’s not nice.”

“I’m sorry. Did someone tell you I was nice?”

Izzy’s expression was one of curiousity. “So how exactly would you tie a girl to this? There are way more rings than you’d need.”

He paused for a half second. But that was clearly
an invitation.

“They’re for different positions. I usually use cuffs because they don’t leave marks, then I
’d tie the cuffs to whichever rings amused me at the time.” Cross fished around in a drawer and threw four leather cuffs on the gray duvet that was folded at the end of the bed.

Gemma looked at the cuffs then at Izzy. She whispered something in her ear that made Izzy gasp and shake her head.

“Come on!” Gemma hissed. “You’ll regret not doing it.” She nudged her then Izzy scowled and shoved her back. They both giggled before turning to him.

“
Okay, fine. Show me.” Izzy’s words were half dare, half command.

Cross drew himself to full height and looked down his nose at her. “Bossy little thing tonight, aren’t you. Are you sure you haven’t had too much wine?”

“It was one glass and that was almost two hours ago now. I’m perfectly sober.”

“Better you than me,” Gemma murmured.

Cross buckled cuffs to Izzy’s wrists, watching her for signs of hesitation.
Vanilla girl
, he kept reminding himself.
No rushing
.

He wrapped his hands almost entirely around her waist and lifted her to sit on the edge of the bed. Izzy made a strange noise and turned pink, but didn’t object. Cross hooked a hand behind her knee and slid it down to her ankle, lifting it higher so he could see to tie on the cuff. She modestly pushed down the fabric of her
shirt between her legs, so that she didn’t flash him a look at...whatever she had under there. The way things were going he might get to find out.

Surprisingly, when he looked up
, Gemma was fastening the other ankle cuff onto Izzy. She flashed him a grin. These girls were crazy adventurous for vanillas.

The adjustable leather straps he’d made slid easily through the D-rings in the cuffs and he stood her up and systematically started to fasten them to the o-rings on the
seven feet tall bed posts at the foot of the bed. When he was done, she was standing spread-eagled, arms up, tied tightly enough that she couldn’t shift much. Her dress had rucked up to accommodate her spread legs, and now barely covered the turquoise panties he’d glimpsed.

“I like this position because it leaves a person feeling so...vulnerable,” he
murmured.

Izzy’s soft curves tempted him to reach out and touch, and he allowed himself to run a gentle finger up her bare thigh. Her chest started to heave and a blush crept up
ward from the collar of her dress to her neck.

In his peripheral vision
, Gemma shifted a little, looking uncomfortable.

“How are you feeling Izzy? Do you need us to let you down now?” From her reactions he
was half-sure she’d take the offer.

“N-no. I’m good.”

“Alright then.” He nodded, surprised but pleased. He wasn’t ready to stop playing with them yet. “If either of you want what we’re doing to stop, just say ‘no’ or ‘stop’ for today. We’ll make better rules later.”

Both looked a bit nervous, but nodded.

This was the right time to expand their knowledge and take another step into the minefield. Only it wasn’t just him, he saw now, it was them too. He was, in effect, taking them by the hand and showing them the way. The responsibility of a Dom had never been so clear to him.

“You understand that when we’re together like this, I’m in charge?”

“All the time?” Gemma looked incredulous. “You’re never just a normal guy?”

“No. Re
gular sex bores me. I’d rather dom a girl than fuck her, if I had to choose.” He looked down at Gemma and the big doe eyes made him want to eat his words. Throwing her down and fucking her was sounding pretty damned good.

Finally, the girl shivered and averted her gaze to Izzy. “So now that you have her all trapped and helpless, what do you do next?”

“Nothing.”

Gemma snorted and they both giggled. Apparently that answer wasn’t believable.

“It’s true. Now it’s not about what I’m going to do, but what you’re going to do, girl.” Cross raised his brows and waited.

“Well. Uh. What do you expect me to do?” She frowned.

He took her hand and led her closer to Izzy. The latter nibbled at her bottom lip and shifted a little in her bonds. The leather creaked. The sleeves of her shirt had slid up her arms, and he stopped himself from ripping the front of her shirt open. Its buttons mocked him. “Start off by kissing her and go from there.”

“Cross, I hate to have to break this to you, but I’m not into chicks
.” Gemma smirked.

Without warning, he buried his fist in the back of her hair, gripping it hard. Gemma gasped and her eyelids fluttered. She mewled in protest and squirmed, but didn’t say no or stop. Cross leaned down and put his lips so close to her ear that they brushed it.

He growled. “You’re into whatever I say you are. Understand me, girl? You have your words. I will accept ‘no’ or ‘stop’. Any other protest I will ignore.”

Cross kissed her hard – a punishment rather than affection, then bit his way down her neck. Gemma panted and whined,
pressing against him. That alone said
conquest
to him. The woman liked this. He turned her back to their captive observer and pushed their faces together.

“Kiss her. Now.”

Obediently the girls’ lips met, but it was shy, gentle and uncertain. His cock throbbed and ached, bent at a weird angle in his jeans. He readjusted himself. Tightening his fist in her hair made Gemma cry out, and when her mouth opened Izzy deepened the kiss.

He wished he had a record button in his brain.
The glimpses of tongues, of lips pressed on lips, the sighs – these two, kissing, would overheat Hell.

“Good girl, Izzy.” He stroked the side of her face with his free hand then traced down her jaw and neck to her collarbone. They were kissing enthusiastically now, their small moans threatening to make his groin explode. He relaxed his grip in G
emma’s hair and played with it. With the other, he stroked along Izzy’s clavicle and dipped his hand into the neckline of her dress. He smiled to himself and undid several of her buttons.

Mmm, no bra. He hadn’t thought so. He allowed his hand to
slide over Izzy’s soft flesh, avoiding the points that begged for his attention. She squirmed, moaning into Gemma’s mouth. He pulled the fabric aside and bared Izzy’s breasts.

With his
hands in their hair, he separated the girls. For a moment they actually fought him a little. The fact that they seemed reluctant to stop was hotter than making them do it in the first place.

“Look,” he urged, tapping the side of Gemma’s face with his index finger then pointing down at Izzy’s partial nudity. The bound girl made a sound of embarrassment and tried to pull her arms together to cover herself, but straining against the straps got her nowhere.

Gemma’s face reddened and she shook her head, averting her eyes from Izzy.

“Look, I said,” Cross growled, pulling upward
on her hair to tip her chin down. Gemma looked, her brows knitted in uncertainty. “They’re just tits, Gemma. It’s not a big deal. Half the population has them. Haven’t you ever changed in a locker room with other girls before?”

“I never looked!”
she squeaked.

He arched a brow
then checked Izzy. “You did, though, didn’t you, little one?” She bit down on her lip and stared to one side. Not ready to admit it yet. “Well, Gemma – now you’re not just going to look. You’re going to touch, and then you’re going to lick. Understood?”

Izzy made a noise of complaint and Gemma recoiled, despite the hand in her hair. “No! No, I can’t!”

Cross let go of her immediately and she stumbled back a step before he steadied her. “No? Okay. We’re done.” He reached up to loosen one of Izzy’s leather straps. Her hands were still a good color, he noted.

“Wait! Cross, I...” Gemma blurted.

He looked down at her, waiting patiently. To his amusement, from the corner of his eye he saw Izzy’s toes curl tight then relax then curl up again. Worried, yet she said nothing?

“I’m sorry. I just – I’ve never done so much as kissed another girl until your shop the other night. I don’t think you understand how straight I am.” Her face was so red it
was like someone had slapped her.