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Authors: Sasha White

BOOK: Wicked
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"Look at this. Graham says I need to call the cops." She pointed to the tires before reaching for his coffee mug and taking a drink. She grimaced at the

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taste, but took another, hoping the caffeine would help clear the fuzziness

from her brain.

"It looks like you pissed someone off," Peter said, accepting his coffee mug back automatically.

"What? You think this was directed at me personally?"

Peter gestured up and down the road, his green eyes serious. "Do you see

anyone else with a knife sticking out of their tire? Not to mention the fact that

they left the knife behind. I'd see that as a threat or warning of some kind."

A shiver danced down Lara's spine. "Whatever. I haven't done anything to

anyone, so it was probably a case of mistaken identity."

Peter reached down and pulled the knife from the tire and examined it.

"Good knife too."

"Shouldn't we have left that in, for the cops?" she asked. Just in case it
had
been meant as a warning to her.

Peter put the knife in his other hand, the clank of the steel blade against his

ceramic coffee mug a chilling sound. He saw her shiver and wrapped his arm

around her in a half hug. "The police won't drive out here just to see a couple

of slashed tires. You can report it by phone if you want, or I can do it for you."

"How do you know for sure?"

He smiled and squeezed her shoulders. "You learn all sorts of trivia when

researching for fiction novels."

Suddenly, Lara became aware of Graham's silence, and the way he was

watching her and Peter. She met his gaze and raised his eyebrows.
What?

He shook his head. "C'mon honey, let Peter make the call. I'll drive you to

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work."

As soon as Graham's car cleared the driveway, she turned her gaze on him.

"How are things with you and Peter?"

Surprise showed clearly in his raised eyebrows and open mouth when he

glanced at her. "You're asking me a personal question?"

She never asked personal questions. Lara was the queen of keeping things

impersonal, yet she felt a little insulted by his reaction. "What? You know just because I don't always ask doesn't mean I don't care."

"Uh-huh," he glanced at her again, the gleam in his eyes speculative. "I think maybe dating Mr. Dawson has something to do with it."

"I'm not dating Karl. I'm fucking him."

"You've had dinner with him, he sent you flowers, and you went out with him

again last night." Graham lifted a finger with each point until he was fluttering three of them in her face. "That's dating, sweetheart."

Shit. Panic fluttered in Lara's tummy but she squelched it, fast. "It's just sex, Graham. Your boss knows his way around a woman's body, and I'm enjoying

it."

Graham sighed. "I know I wasn't exactly thrilled when you started dating him,

but Lara, honey, the man is more than hot, he's a good guy. If you like him, I

say go for it. It's about time a man gave you a run for your money."

She didn't need to ask what he meant by that. The way she could wrap men

around her little finger was a running joke between them. Instead, she was

curious…"Why the sudden change of heart?"

He gave her an arch look. "He sent you flowers that weren't a kiss-off

bouquet."

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Panic rose in Lara. "It was a thank-you. He thinks I'm good in bed, that's all.

Don't read anything into it, Graham. It's just sex with us. Incredible sex," she muttered. "But still just sex."

"You keep saying that, maybe you'll convince yourself."

"How did we get on this topic anyway? I want to know what's up with you and

Peter?"

Graham pulled into the parking lot of the warehouse and came to a stop at

the staff entrance. When he faced her, his eyes were worried. "He's horny for

a female, and I don't know what to do about it."

Okay, she'd asked. Now what was she supposed to do? Offer advice? A

shoulder to cry on? He did look like he could burst into tears at any moment.

Shit, what did she get herself into?

"Well, uhmm, I take it you don't want to uhmm, get him one?"

"No! What if he enjoys it so much he decides he's not gay anymore? I'd lose

him!"

Lara's hand was on the doorknob, her muscles tense and ready to go. She

hated to talk about emotions and stuff, but it was Graham, and despite

herself, she cared for him.

Letting go of the door she turned in her seat to face him. "Graham, Peter

loves you. He's let you into his home, and his heart, and letting him get naked

with a woman isn't going to change that. Sex can just be sex, a physical urge,

two bodies, two animals enjoying what comes naturally. It's not always

making love. Do you trust him?"

Tears welled in his eyes and he nodded. "Yes. I mean, he could've just

cheated, but he didn't. He told me what he wanted."

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"See? There you go." She patted him on the shoulder. "He just needs a little pussy every now and then. It doesn't mean he won't always love you."

Graham leaned forward and wrapped his arms around her in a tight hug.

"Thanks, Lara. You're a good friend."

Warmth flooded her and her lips split into a grin. She was a good friend.

Graham tensed and pulled back. "Uhmm, I think you're in trouble too."

Lara turned to see her boss standing at the staff entrance, arms folded

across his barrel chest, eyebrows pulled into a bushy V.

Shit.

"Gotta go, Graham. Thanks for the ride."

She jumped out of the car and prepared for a bad day to get worse.

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23

T
he incessantly ringing phone was getting on Karl's last nerve and he

was ready to rip the phone lines right out of the wall when Graham finally

sashayed in and parked his ass behind the reception desk.

Rising from his chair Karl strode out to the reception and glared down at his

assistant. "You're late."

"Yes, I am. But I brought you coffee." Graham held out a cardboard cup.

"Lara had some trouble this morning, and I had to drive her to work. There's

a Starbucks right next to the warehouse she works out of and I couldn't

resist."

Every muscle in Karl's body tensed. "Trouble? What kind of trouble?"

Graham waved around the cup he was still holding. "Don't you want the

coffee?"

He took the cup and spoke through gritted teeth. "Thank you. Now tell me

what kind of trouble Lara had."

"Someone slashed the tires on her car last night. Can you believe it? Peter

thinks it was deliberate threat aimed at Lara too, since they left the knife

stuck in the tire. Big knife."

Ice ran though Karl's veins, then fire. He dropped the file he was holding on

Graham's desk and turned on his heel. "The papers are signed. File that and

bill Ken Brand."

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"Okeydokey."

He punched Lara's number into the phone and waited while the phone rang

once, twice, the third ring cut off as Lara's harried voice answered. "Hey,

Karl, how are you doing?"

"Not so well, sugar. Why did I have to hear it from Graham that someone has

threatened you?"

"I wasn't threatened. Some punk just vandalized my car."

"Slashed tires is not vandalism, not if yours is the only car hit and they leave the knife. Graham's lover is right. That's a threat."

Her sigh echoed over the phone line. "I'm not going to argue about it, Karl.

I'm having a shit day and it's not even noon yet."

"Lara." He stopped his pacing and softened his voice. She didn't need his

fear or anger right now, she needed his strength. "Sugar, where are you right

now?"

"Just getting ready to leave the lube shop on Hastings."

"Lube shop, hmm?"

That did the trick. His girl's dirty little mind immediately jumped on the

innuendo and her chuckle soothed his nerves.

"That's my girl, I love to hear you laugh," he soothed. "You feel a little better?"

"Yes, thank you."

"Now tell me why you didn't call me this morning, so I could make you feel

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better then."

"Because it had nothing to do with you. What could you have done, Karl? It

was probably just a case of mistaken identity anyway."

"I could've made you feel better, but that's not the point." He firmed his voice.

"The point is that last night you agreed you were mine, and I take care of

what's mine. I do not like hearing news second hand, and I especially do not

like someone threatening what's mine."

"
I'm
not yours, Karl. My body is yours to use, I get that, and I even
like
that.

But I'm still me, the same independent and bold woman you met almost two

weeks ago. I've been taking care of myself for more than a decade and that's

not going to change any time soon."

His muscles twitched as he put his head down and bit his tongue. Silence

stretched between them and his temper faded, leaving him hurt and a little

confused. How could she ignore the connection between them? It was so

much more than physical.

Telling her that wouldn't be enough though. He was getting to know Lara

better every minute. She was smart, but she was stubborn too. Telling her

would accomplish nothing. He needed to show her. "Then you better bring

your body to my office sometime this afternoon so I can make us both feel

better."

"I'll try," she said.

"Don't try, sugar. Do it." He paused, listening to her breathing get heavier. "I have another call, so I have to go now. I'll see you when you get here."

He set the phone down and sank into his chair. She was fine, unhurt, and

apparently as strong and brazen as ever. He, on the other hand, felt like he'd

been sucker punched.

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It didn't matter that it was only her car that was hurt, what mattered was that

she hadn't trusted that he would be there for her. And no matter what she

said, his gut was telling him that the threat had been directed at her. It wasn't

a case of the wrong car, someone had done that to
her
.

She'd been in trouble, and she hadn't called him.

"I've been taking care of myself for more than a decade…"

She couldn't be more than twenty-five or twenty-six years old. That would

mean she'd had to be strong when she was thirteen or fourteen. Sadness

weighed down on his shoulders. He knew something had to have happened

in her past to make her so tough, but for it to have happened when she was

so young tore at his insides.

Those walls of cockiness and sexual confidence she'd built to hide behind

were higher and stronger than he'd thought. The question was, were they too

high?

They'd rushed things.
He'd
rushed things.

He'd let pure lust and Lara's obvious sexual eagerness distract him from the

fact that she was completely untrained. Sure, Lara was naturally submissive.

He could feel it. But she wasn't like any other submissive he'd met. She

might think it was a game, but that was because to so many people, D/s
was

a game. Nothing more than a sexual kink to keep things interesting in the

bedroom.

It was so much more than that though, and it was up to him to show her.

Karl had always known there was a deeper need inside himself. He enjoyed

the play, and it kept the need from clawing up his insides, but that was only

because he hadn't found the one that could feed his need. The one that

could accept, and embrace, how deeply the need ran within him.

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When he thought of Lara, when he looked at her, the urge to dominate, to

own, to care for…and to love was stronger than anything he'd felt. And he

sensed her need ran just as deep, she just hadn't accepted it yet.

Lara wasn't someone who would submit to a man just because he called

himself a Dom. She'd only submit to someone who was strong enough to

dominate her. He was that man. He wanted more than her body, and he was

patient enough, and strong enough, to get it.

Then he'd always be her first call when something happened, and she'd trust

enough to let him take care of her.

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24

L
ara worked through lunch to make up for being late, and she broke a

few speeding laws to get her deliveries done with time to spare. She

wondered at her eagerness to do what Karl had told her. Her first reaction

had been to go about her day and deliberately be too busy to go see him. But

as the day passed, and she wondered about what sort of fun he had in mind

to make them both feel better, she started hurrying.

Normally if a guy told her to get her body somewhere by a certain time she'd

tell him to get lost. Men were easy, and she really didn't need to put up with

one who wanted to control her.

Yet, when Karl had given her that order, her breath had caught and desire

had shot through her system. Desire that built up steam with every imagined

scene of sitting on his desk and getting screwed hard and fast. And that was

why she was eager.

It was natural. Karl Dawson was a prime male, with not only a big cock, but

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