Wicked (6 page)

it'd been a long time since he'd dated at all. He preferred to keep his life

orderly, and that meant work was work, and play was private. Even his play

life was kept orderly. Marie and Jan were his usual playmates, and they

knew the score. When they were together, they had all of his attention, but

when they weren't together, there were no claims on anyone.

Everyone was happy with the casual relationship.

He no longer looked for love in his relationships. He wasn't even sure he

believed in love, anymore; not when he made a very good living off the fact

that it never lasted. But spending time with Samair and Val had rekindled

some spark inside him.

Lara wasn't looking for love either. She was sexy, adventurous, bold, and

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definitely wild. He'd walked away from her that first night because she wasn't

what he was used to. But now he realized that, for him, that just might be the

best thing she had going for her.

* * *

I
can't believe you're going out with him again. I can't believe you

haven't kept me up-to-date! I thought that dinner was a one time thing?"

Lara looked past Graham, who was pacing alongside her bed, and met

Peter's gaze. The minute Graham had arrived home from work, he'd

grabbed Peter and come down to her place, intent on finding out everything

that was going on between her and Karl.

"It's not that big of a deal, Graham. Relax." Once again, she had company

while she was getting ready for her date, and this time she was going to use

it to her advantage.

Ignoring Graham she turned to Peter with a skirt in each hand. "Denim or

cotton?"

"You do realize he's a biker, right?" This from the agitated Graham.

"Denim it is," she said as she hung the cotton skirt back up. "And definitely the leather vest."

"Did you hear me?"

"I heard you, Graham. In case you didn't get the hint, I'm ignoring you." If he didn't shut up soon she was gonna tell him to fuck off, and
not
in a playful

way.

This was why she didn't have friends. When people got too close they always

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tried to tell her what to do, or how to live her life.

Graham stopped and stared at her.

She met his gaze head-on and shrugged out of her robe. Standing there in

nothing but a black lace thong, she glared at him and snapped. "What?"

His brow puckered and he looked at her with hurt puppy dog eyes. "I just

don't want you to get hurt, sweetie."

"I'm not going to get hurt, Graham. I'm just going to get laid." She stepped into the short denim skirt and pulled it up.

"Mr. Dawson is a good boss, and I like my job." Graham was working himself

into a real tizzy. "But the man is supercynical when it comes to women. They

throw themselves at him all the time and he just acts as if it's his due. He

really is hot, Lara, and I can see why you'd want to go out with him—I've

even had a fantasy or two about him myself, but that's not the point—"

"Then get to the point," Lara interrupted as she did up the snaps on her

custom leather vest.

He heaved a sigh. "In the three years I've been working for him, never once

has he mentioned a girlfriend. He doesn't date women, he just uses them."

"First off, just because he doesn't mention a girlfriend to you doesn't mean he

doesn't have one, or ten. Secondly,
I don't care
. I'm not looking for a

boyfriend. I'm only planning on using him for a night myself, so we should get

along just fine."

"Lara—"

"Peter!"

"Come on, Graham," Peter said as he got up from his position propped up on

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the pillows of her bed. "Let's go upstairs and I'll let you give me a massage."

"But…"

Lara watched as Peter stared at Graham, and Graham's cheeks flushed in

response. The tension in the air shifted and even Lara's blood started to

heat. There was some silent communication going on there, and it was hot!

"Have a good time," Peter said as he followed Graham out of the bedroom.

"And be safe!"

Of course she'd be safe. After all, if she didn't look after herself, who would?

Lara gave herself a once over in the mirror. Her eyes were lined and smoky

looking, her lips coated with a deep crimson that would draw all eyes there,

and hopefully remind Karl of just how well she could use her mouth. The

leather vest fit perfect. It was tight enough to push her boobs together and

give her cleavage, and the skirt was just loose enough to hang suggestively

on the curve of her hips.

She looked just how she wanted to look—sassy, sexy, and slightly naughty.

* * *

S
he's going to get hurt, Peter."

Peter heard the concern in Graham's voice, and he reached out for his lover.

Brushing his thumb over the palm of Graham's hand, he smiled. "No, she's

not. Honestly, Graham, from what you've told me about your boss and what I

know about Lara, I'd say he's the one that might get hurt."

"But—"

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"But nothing. It's none of our business anyway. If Lara needs someone to

talk to, she knows where we are. If your boss hurts her, I know where he

lives."

Graham gazed at him with big soft eyes and he felt ten feet tall and

bulletproof. "You'd do that? You'd go punch out my biker boss if he hurt

Lara?"

"I would. You know I love our prickly housemate just as much as you do."

Something flashed across Graham's face and he pulled back a little. "You

love her?"

"Graham," he warned. He really thought they were past the

jealous-possessive stage.

"I'm just asking."

He stood and pulled off his t-shirt before reaching for the snap on his jeans.

"And I'm waiting for my massage."

Peter watched as Graham took the hint and went down the hall. When he

entered the living room with a blanket and the bottle of baby oil, Peter's heart

clenched.

His boy looked a little lost.

Naked, he stepped up and took the blanket from Graham. He tossed it on the

floor, and pressed his body against his lover's. "I changed my mind. I don't

want a massage anymore."

Graham bit his lip and stepped back, looking everywhere but at him. "What

do you want?"

Peter opened his heart and put all the love he had in his gaze as he cupped

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Graham's head and forced him to meet his look head-on. "You."

With that, he stepped closer again and pinned Graham to the wall, his head

lowering to show him exactly how much he wanted him.

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8

L
ara was already at the pool table when Karl entered the pub. He

stood and watched her from a distance for a few minutes. She was good, but

he could beat her. She played her opponent more than the table. Bending,

stretching, and smiling flirtatiously.

Her tight leather vest plumped up her cleavage deliciously, and her short

skirt showed off legs that every man in there wanted wrapped around his

waist. No, she was no sweet submissive miss—but she was a dirty girl

through and through. One who was willing to try anything once.

When she flipped back her hair, bent over, and sent the eight ball into the

corner pocket with a sure stroke, he stepped forward with a small smile.

"Nice work."

She winked at him as she tucked the bills from the edge of the table into her

hip pocket. "Thanks. You wanna play?"

He couldn't hold back the images that flooded his mind at
that
invitation, and he grinned. "Oh yeah, but not pool. Let's grab a seat."

He pointed to a booth near the back corner and they headed toward it. When

she slid in one side, he fought his natural urge to slide in next to her, and

settled in across the table. The waitress was there immediately, smiling at

him and bending over the table to give him a good view down her little tank

top. "What can I do for you tonight?"

"Lara?" he asked.

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When she ordered a cola, he ordered a beer and sent the waitress away with

a lazy smile.

"Do women hit on you everywhere you go?"

He slouched back in his seat and cocked an eyebrow at her. "Do men hit on

you everywhere you go?"

Her husky chuckle filled the air between them and a knowing look passed

between them. They were a lot alike.

"You don't like to play pool?" she asked.

"I do, but there are other games I'd rather play with you. Ones that will help

us get to know each other better."

She leaned forward, her eyes sparkling, her smile wicked. "Do you really

want to get to know me better, or do you just want to fuck me?"

What
did
he want from her?

He didn't bother checking out the cleavage displayed so temptingly before

him, he knew she was sexy. Instead, he gazed into her eyes. Searching past

the spark of desire there, he saw the walls she'd built to protect her thoughts,

and he wanted to knock those walls down. He wanted to know what lay

beneath the surface.

And he wanted to bend her over and sink his cock in deep.

"Both," he told her. "I think you and I can embark on a journey together—a very pleasurable one."

Tilting her head to the side she narrowed her eyes at him. "Stop talking like a

lawyer."

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"I'm not talking like a lawyer. I'm talking like a Dom, sugar."

She sat back, surprised. "A Dom? As in, tie me up and spank me?"

He chuckled. "Something like that, yes."

The waitress arrived with their drinks and Lara watched as he paid her,

tipping heavily before sending her away with an absent smile.

A Dom.

Damn, that sorta sucked, she'd been looking forward to having that delicious

cock of his buried deep inside her. She hadn't had a good hard fuck in way

too long, but she wasn't into being spanked.

"I don't know," she said, shaking her head slowly. "I am not a submissive person."

"I think you might surprise yourself. You enjoyed sucking my cock the other

night right?"

His small smile was starting to irritate her. "Yeah, but that's not a submissive thing. Men are ruled by their dicks. If I can rule the dick, I can rule the man.

That's not exactly a submissive way of thinking, is it?"

"So you got no pleasure from hearing my groans of pleasure, or words of

praise? No satisfaction in feeling my cock throb against your tongue as my

come filled your mouth?"

His words filled her head, clouding her thoughts as the memory of the other

night filled her mind. His hand in her hair, his cock in her mouth, his voice

being the only thing she heard beyond the pounding of her own rushing

blood as he growled his satisfaction.

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She'd swallowed for him. Something she'd never done before. More than

that, he was right, she'd enjoyed the whole thing. Walking away from him

then had been a point of pride she'd paid for when she was alone in bed with

her vibrator.

She'd never shied from a challenge before, yet Karl's words didn't
feel
like

just a challenge. They felt like an…invitation? She gave herself a mental

head slap. Did it really matter? She wanted him, and she
would
try anything

once.

So she straightened her spine, thrust out her breasts and boldly met his

gaze. "Do I have to call you Master?"

"Master, Sir, Karl." He shrugged. "It doesn't matter. You can call me what you want, whatever feels natural."

Excitement heated her blood and kicked her pulse up a notch. "Okay, how do

we do this?"

"Why don't we start with something simple?"

"I'm ready when you are."

His voice lowered. "Are you wearing panties?"

Adrenaline surged through her. "Yeah."

"Take them off, please."

She started to slide out of the booth only to be stopped by his foot blocking

her way. She glanced from the black boot to the man across the table, her

forehead wrinkling. "Excuse me?"

"Stay here and take them off," he commanded softly. "You proved the other night that you were adventurous when it came to taking risks in public, this

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should be nothing to you."

He was right—it was nothing. So why was her heart suddenly pounding so

hard it vibrated through her chest?

Without bothering to think about it, she shifted forward on her seat a little and

reached under the table. Keeping her eyes locked with his, she slid her

fingers up her outer thighs and under her denim skirt. She planted her feet on

the floor, lifted her hips and tugged at the elastic until the thong slipped from

between her cheeks and down her legs.

Bunching the lace in one fist she felt the damp proof of her excitement

against the palm of her hand, and pride zipped through her.

"Can I get you anything, sir? Another beer?" The waitress stood at the edge of their table, eyeing Karl.

Deliberately, Lara put her hand on the table between them, and opened it up,

offering Karl her panties. Karl smiled his approval and reached for them

while he spoke. "No, thank you. I have everything I need for now."