THE PLEASURE OF HIS PUNISHMENT : THE COMPLETE COLLECTION (10 EROTIC SEX STORIES OF SEXUAL SUBMISSION) (20 page)

Neither one of them could breath or speak.  He lowered her legs down and untied her hands, pulling her into his arms and holding her tightly as they heaved their relief, waiting for the return of breath. 

As soon as his breathing returned to normal, Brody caught her mouth with his and gave her a long, hard, passionate kiss.  Then he looked into her eyes as if he was trying to assess her reaction. 

She buried her face in his neck, still shaking, not quite knowing how to feel.  Brody.  Her
best friend
Brody.  When had he become such a man?  A man who made her body vibrate with desire and satiated it in the most delicious ways.  She shook her head unconsciously.  All this time.  Brody?  No other man had ever had her feel this way and probably never could.  Why had she never seen it before?  Had she been that blind…or had she just been in total denial because she was afraid of losing his friendship?  

"You thinking about Tom, Red?,"  he asked in a disappointed voice.

"Who?,"  she queried in a dreamy, soft voice. 

"Caldwell,"  he growled.

"Oh, Brody."  She laughed softly.  "I think you knocked those thoughts right out of my head.  I was thinking how it was that I never knew you had such a wicked side."  She cocked her head as she looked into his eyes, set deep into a face as familiar to her as her own. 

His mouth split a wicked grin that made her heart flip flop.  "Hell, darlin', I would have shown you my wicked side years ago if you had wanted to see it.  I've been panting for you for years, while you were busy dreaming about that no good city boy."  His look became serious and he told her in a low voice, "He really is a no good bastard, Jenna."

She sighed.  "I know.  I think I was probably using him as a cover now that I think about it.  He was just an excuse.  A perfect man that never existed.”

He held her tight.  "I'm glad, Red.  He was never worth one single tear."

"Brody!  If you call me "Red" one more time you are going to owe me a forfeit.  You know I hate it,"  she told him heatedly. 

He kissed her and relented.  "Okay, Jenna.  I'll try not to."

Jenna smiled because she knew her cowboy would do his best because he did know that she disliked the nickname.  When she reminded him that she really did  hate it, he usually could go days or weeks without using it before he slipped up again.  "Of course, my forfeit will probably be very similar to yours next time.  Maybe with a little twist of my own,"  she mused in a sultry, seductive voice.

He held her tight and chuckled.  "I’ll give you anything you want if I slip up, Red." 

When she pulled away she saw his devious expression of feigned surprise and remorse.

  "Whoops.  Sorry, Red.  I reckon I owe you a forfeit.  Two if you want...since I said it twice."

Her heart accelerated as his mouth slid into that sinful smile again.

"I reckon you do, cowboy…and I'm thinking that you need to pay up right now."  She slipped her arms around his neck and pulled his mouth to hers.

Something told her that their old game of forfeits would never be the same again.

Lacy Tucker pulled the note off of her front door with a sigh.

Not again.
 

She opened the front door and made her way through the large home until she reached the sliding doors that lead to the back patio.  "Shit," she mumbled under her breath as she surveyed the damage.   

The big hole under the fence was there…now blocked with rocks that her neighbor had loaded into the hole so that her dog wouldn't push through the hole again.   

"Loki,"  she called the German Shepherd to her in a stern voice and Loki came bounding to his master with a silly look on his face that looked almost like a grin.  He sat at her feet eagerly, begging for attention.  His innocent brown eyes didn't fool Lacy…he had been a very bad dog…again.   

She petted him absently, wondering what else she could do to break him of his chronic habit of digging underneath the fence.  Unfortunately, he always dug into the same side; the one that let him into the yard of Dr. Ryan Logan.

Lacy read the brief letter with a frown. Loki had ruined his patch of specially bred roses, no doubt a very pricey bunch of flowers.  Dr. Logan rarely did anything by half measures.    

Damn, damn, damn.

Loki hadn’t dug for months and she was sure she had broken him of the bad – not to mention expensive – habit.    It looked like this time he had made up in damage what he hadn't done in frequency.

She let the dog inside the house and dropped the letter on the table with a sigh.  The lecture about keeping her dog under control was inevitable.  Dr. Logan was a man that definitely liked control, everything orderly, even his yard.   

"The man is a tyrant," she said softly to herself as she walked to the front room and looked out her window. 

His BMW was parked in the driveway, so there was no doubt that he was home.   It was funny how she could almost tell the time by his actions.  The man was the most methodical person she had even met.  Not that being organized was a bad thing…but he took it to a whole new level.   Lacy had heard he was an awesome physician and it was probably a trait that benefited him in his profession.   Dr. Logan was a trauma surgeon and worked twelve hours shifts at the local University Hospital.  He got up at five a.m. and went for a run…every single day.  He was back at five forty-five and left the house for work at exactly six-thirty.  That was his schedule three days a week and every other weekend.  His lights were usually off by ten p.m. in the evening.  Even on the days he wasn't working he kept his morning routine.  Did the man ever sleep in? 

The only detail that ever seemed to fluctuate was the fact that he didn’t always arrive home by 8 p.m. in the evening, probably because he got hung up at the hospital with an emergency.   But he was home on today.  It was just her luck that today was the start of his off days.  Wishing she could put the confrontation off until the next day, she glanced at the clock.  Eight-thirty.  She had just gotten home from her job as a Veterinary Tech and she was tired, the long hours she had been working lately and lack of sleep starting to take a toll on her body.

It’s not that I don’t know that this is my dog…and my fault, but I’m just so not up to this today.  

She fed Loki and headed for the shower, looking longing at her bed as she passed through the bedroom.  Soon, she promised herself.  She took a quick shower and changed into a pair of cut-off jean shorts and a short t-shirt.  Passing the blow drier over her head, Lacy stopped half way through and secured her still-damp hair into a clip.  Why bother with make-up when all she expected was Dr. Logan’s oration on how to treat your neighbors with more courtesy?

He was right, of course, she thought as she brushed on a little blush to brighten her pale cheeks and dabbed on a tiny bit of concealer to cover the dark splotches under her eyes from stress and lack of sleep.  She did feel guilty because she knew Dr. Logan worked hard and deserved to have his property respected. 

Lacy just wished she didn’t have to do this tonight, not when she was feeling so fragile and tired, both physically and emotionally.  

She slid her feet into a comfortable pair of sandals.  As she grabbed her house keys she took a deep breath and let it out. 
Brace yourself, Lacy, and don't get angry.  Your dog did destroy his property.  It isn’t Dr. Logan you’re upset with so don’t take it out on him. 

She admitted to herself that this was really her problem.  Facing her neighbor shouldn’t have to be so difficult or require so much energy, but she had been stressed out since her husband Brent had left her.  Their divorce had just become final and she couldn't afford the house she was living in, no matter how many extra hours she worked.  Her ex-husband Brent was a successful attorney and her salary was pathetic next to his, but it had been her salary that had helped him have the time to build that successful practice.  They had just bought the house a year ago, when his income had finally reached the point where they could afford a nice house.  She had gotten the house in the divorce settlement...and the huge mortgage.  He had gotten the best divorce attorney in the city who was now his new fiancé that left her with nothing but bills. 
The bastard
.  He had been sleeping with Kathleen for months before he had finally left Lacy.

How could I not have not known?
, she wondered for about the millionth time.

She swept through the front door and locked it behind her, trying not to look at the large “For Sale” sign in front of her house.  She needed to sell, start her life over again.  Strangely enough, she didn’t really miss Brent.  As they neared the end of their marriage, they hadn’t spent much time together.  She supposed she should have seen the signs, but she had never imagined that he was unfaithful.  Lacy had just figured he was working hard, trying to keep building his practice.

Someday…she really had to stop being so naïve and trusting.   

She walked up the driveway of Dr. Logan's beautifully manicured home, admiring the lovely landscaping.  He had a gardener, of course.  The underground sprinklers were on a timer and they were on, ensuring he had the nicest, greenest lawn in the neighborhood.  To his credit, he did spend a lot of time working in his yard.

She shivered as she remembered how he looked without his shirt, his buff body lifting heavy rocks like they were they were nothing more than a quart of milk. 
God, he was handsome
.  He looked like a blonde mythological god with his sun-streaked hair, deep blue eyes and sculpted body.

She rang the front doorbell, biting her lip, hoping he wouldn’t answer and she could scamper back home, telling herself that she had tried.  No such luck…he answered almost immediately.  Lacy caught her breath as he stood in front of her, dressed casual in a pair of jeans and a t-shirt that stretched tight over his muscular chest and torso. 

He quirked a brow and opened the door wide.  "Come in, Ms. Martel.  We have a problem to discuss."

Lacy stepped into the house and proceeded to the sunken living room as he motioned that direction.   It wasn’t like she hadn’t been here before.  Same problem, same room, same discussion.  

As she reached the middle of the nicely appointed room she turned back to him.  "Tucker.  I don't use the name Martel anymore."

"Really?  Why?"  He asked with curiosity in his voice. 

"My husband and I are divorced."  She answered abruptly.  "Look, Dr. Logan, I know my dog dug into your yard again and I am sincerely sorry.  I'm trying to sell the house right now.  Hopefully you will have new neighbors soon.  Maybe they won't have a dog."   She cursed her quivering voice as she tried not to break down in front of him, her emotional stress making her a wreck.  

He ignored her apology and queried, "How about if I just call you Lacy.  You can call me Ryan.  We are neighbors."  He smiled at her. 
The man actually smiled
.  "Would you like a drink, Lacy?"

His smile made her heart flip flop.  She had never seen him actually smile and it was a handsome sight, lighting up his already gorgeous face.  

"Uh...no...no...I don't think so."  she replied awkwardly, unable to take her eyes off of his face. 

He shrugged, his face returning to it's normal businesslike expression.  "The roses were expensive.  A rare breed that I had to special order." 

"I'll replace them.  Were they horribly expensive."  She waited anxiously for his answer.  Her bank account was empty.  Maybe she could get it next payday.

"About five hundred dollars for the patch I was growing."  He said it like it was no big deal.  Pocket change.  Maybe for him…but she was broke.   

Five hundred.  Oh, my God.  I don't even have fifty to spare.

"Then of course there is the labor involved in transplanting them,"  he contemplated.