The Dom With the Perfect Brats (14 page)

They detoured to get a blanket from Cross’s truck. There were few customers in the little shop and soon they had two coffees and chicken salad sandwiches. The gardens nearby were neat with a maze of waist-height hedges. Luckily the rain held off until they reached a roofed shelter in the middle. At the edges beneath the roof, the grass underfoot was a perfect green and fairly dry.

Cross spread the blanket then held the sandwiches while she sat. It was all very chivalrous. As he handed back her sandwich, she eyed him suspiciously.

“What?” He sat cross-legged next to her, his thigh bumping hers.

The corrugations on his forehead tempted her to smooth them out with her forefinger. “Nothing. You’re just really nice sometimes.”

“Sometimes
?” He grunted. “I’m always nice.”

“Yeah, right. Last person said that to me had a dog that tried to rip the tire off my bicycle.”

“In Australia?”

“Yes.” She took a bite from her sandwich.

“I’m nice to subs who obey me.” The look in Cross’s eyes seemed to be waiting for a challenge.

She decided to duck around that challenge. Though if Gemma had been here she was sure they’d both have taken the bait. “Sub. Funny word. For submissive?”

“Yep.”

“I always thought it was a sandwich.”

“Guess I do get to eat my subs when I choose to.”

She half-choked on her food and coughed a few times, sure she’d blushed beetroot red, while Cross rubbed her back.

“Poor Isadora.”

Glaring didn’t stop him
from grinning. Damn him.

He’d already finished half his sandwich. It amazed her how much food men could pack away.

Submissive. For a while she ate and just turned that word over in her mind, staring out across the steady rain and listening to it rumble on the roof above.

She’d never thought herself kinky – apart from being bi – and that wasn’t kinky as far as she was concerned, just different from the average person. What Cross wanted to do to her, to them
...

The image flashed to her of Gemma licking her nipple, of watching the woman’s tongue flick and curl out, rolling over her nipple and leaving it damp, and all while she’d been tied up, spread-eagled standing up. The helplessness, the inability to escape, had done something to her. Like
it had given her the freedom to be
her
, not some pretend person. She remembered clearly that moment when Gemma had first touched her nipple with her tongue. Saw it, felt it, again, as her tongue swiped upward. She’d gasped, and a hot tide of arousal had slammed through her.

Fuck.

She blinked and found Cross had finished his sandwich and was staring at her like she might indeed be his next bite. He was nice to subs who obeyed him, he’d said.

She swallowed quietly then her question poured out. “Am I one of those?”

He cocked his head.

“Am I a sub
missive?”

“Yes. I’m ninety-nine percent sure, from how you react.” Then he just watched her again.

“Not one hundred percent? Yeah, I might not be. Makes sense. Because I never...”

“Here.” He snapped his fingers, stretched out his legs so there was a place for her to sit, and pointed at his lap.

She screwed up her mouth and tilted one eyebrow skeptically, resisting. “I’m not a puppy dog. I don’t obey snaps of fingers.” But, yeah, something inside her had jumped up and begged. She wanted him to make her.

In a quiet voice, Cross replied, “We’ll see. Now come here anyway, I want to discuss things.”

Clearly he wasn’t giving in. On principle, she wasn’t either. “I’m already here. Near enough.” With her knee, she nudged his thigh where it touched hers. “I’m good.”

He sighed, grabbed her wrist, and despite her squeal, hauled her over his leg until she was sitting nestled between his
thighs. That he’d just grabbed her because he wanted to, had changed this, made it better, and she struggled to keep her breathing normal. His heavy forearms wrapped across her. She wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon.

But she wriggled. “What if I safeword sitting in your lap?”

His laugh rocked her. Then he held her tighter. “You won’t, Isadora. You like this too much. I can feel your heartbeat thumping away under my hand.”

“Uh.” His hand
was
conveniently flattened on her chest, brushing the lower curve of her breast. She shivered, sure her eyes had widened.

He licked her ear lobe.

“Unfair,” she squeezed out, despite the warm shimmy emanating from her groin. “Licking my ear is like the last resort of a despera–”

Gradually, his thighs clamped in on hers, caging her even tighter. He kissed her ear and bit the muscle of her neck then nibbled a slow trail upward, his teeth grabbing, holding her a
second, letting go – she swore she felt the indentations. It was like being marked by a playful tiger. His hot breath sifted across her skin.

God.
She uttered a low moan, gasping when he nipped her ear lobe again, and hung on. The bite seared in, like he’d just stamped her,
Mine
.

The pain reached in and wound up the tension inside her, higher and higher, as the pressure of his bite increased.
Let go. Let go.
She whimpered, not game to pull away. Damn. The man was dangerous.

Then he released her ear.

And she awoke, and breathed, drawing in a jagged breath.

“
You’re short of breath. You having trouble?”

Both his hands caressed warmly upward over the curve of each of her breasts. Between her thighs ached. She was dying to rub herself on him – to turn over and kiss him while she lay between his legs.

“Can I...” Another of his bites on her neck made her whimper again.

“Can you what?
If you didn’t like being controlled you wouldn’t react like this.”

She roused logic. “It’s just sex. Just
...fuck. Stop biting me! I can’t think.”

“Who said you should be thinking?” Over the fabric, his thumbs caressed the tips of her breasts, coaxing her nipples to hard points.

“Me,” she squeaked. Then she grasped his forearms as if to pluck him away, to stop him teasing her in that agonizingly hot way.

“Put your hands down.”

“But–”

“Down.”

Should she? This was so crazy.

But she lowered them and clasped them in her lap and now all there was to do was to feel her breasts grow heavier and the warmth build, and his thumbs going round and round.

“Now, Izzy, how does it feel to be made to stay still, to be held? Do you want to escape?”

Excruciating question. She writhed under his touch but held back. He tugged on both her nipples then pinched his fingers and thumbs together so hard she squeaked.
Hot. Spiked heat cascaded through her.

“Answer me. If you don’t answer me fast, I
’ll punish you.”

Oh damn.
She shuddered at the idea of Cross punishing her. “No. Don’t! Someone will see.” He pinched her again. “Ow!”

“No one can see us through the rain. How do you feel?”

She bit her lip, aware that he now had her breasts hostage as well. “Umm.” This was so wrong. “I guess, good.”

“Good? So even with me clamping your nipples, like this.” He did it harder until she was sure her nipples were flat
, but she didn’t move her hands. It was...it hurt and yet... Her eyes rolled back and she arched the smallest amount. “Even with that?”

“Yes,” she agreed with a gasp and another arch of her groin.

This time his mouth was on her ear, close enough that she felt his lips move. “Do you like the idea of being punished? With my hand on your ass, or a belt?”

Did she have to answer? That picture in her head of her draped over Cross and being smacked had sent her arousal climbing.

“Izzy?” The deep tone was a threat. “One more delay and I will turn you over my knee, whip down these pants and spank your bare ass.”

Oh fuck no. But yes
, too. She lowered her head, sucked in a breath. She could say this. “I...I think I like that idea.”

“Good girl.
I think you’re as submissive as they come.”

No! I’m not.
That thought remained unvoiced. What he’d said had sounded right in some odd way.

“One last question, then I’m going to make you orgasm, right here, with my hand in your pants and you won’t move or stop me except to make those
sexy little noises women make. Got that?”

“Here?” She sneaked a look from under her brow out at the world. Through the rain she could see cars driving past on the road and one or two people with umbrellas on the footpath.

“Here. If you wriggle too much I’ll do it with your pants off.”

“Noo,” she whispered.
A searing pinch on her nipples made her wince and cut her short.

“Question. Do you have the hots for Gemma?”

Of all the questions he could have asked, this was the worst. Fear grabbed her by the throat. Inside her head was one thing,
this
was terrifying. She shook her head vigorously. “I can’t answer that. I’m sorry. I can’t.” Her voice caught on the last word.

“No?” For a second she thought he’d tip her over and strip her like he’d threatened but he paused, and released her nipples, as if maybe he’d heard how upset this made her. “You can’t? Why
not, beautiful? I hoped you’d say it out loud. I can see you do. I think you need to say it. To be honest.”

Again, head down, she shook her head.

“You don’t want to suck on her nipples, to kiss her, to see her come?”

How dare he fill her head with those images
and expect an answer? How dare he? She sucked in a ragged breath.

“Why can’t you say you’re attracted? Because
you don’t want to admit you like girls too?”

He couldn’t
know
the ugly blackness that gnawed at her insides when he suggested that. To admit she liked women would be so wrong. Every single time she contemplated saying anything like this out loud...or approaching another woman, no matter how much she enjoyed looking, or imagining them together, no matter how much she wanted to feel the body of someone her own sex against hers...it ate her up. After all these years, it remained like a cancer, stewing. So many years, since that time she’d fucked up her family.

He couldn’t know and she would not say.

“Izzy?”

Something crumbled then fractured inside, leaving her empty and grieving. For way too long, she’d held this in, guarded her true self. She gulped once, tangled her fingers, wracked by the need to speak, the tension inside pulling her head apart.

She murmured her answer very, very quietly, “Yes.” Tears welled from her eyes and overflowed, tracking down her cheeks. “Yes, because it’s bad.”

So childish, calling something bad, but it fit.

“There’s nothing bad about being who you are. Okay? And it’s safe to tell me things.” He swept aside her hair and nuzzled her cheek with his. “Talking to me is safe.”

She nodded.

“Another thing, I think she’s attracted to you too.”

“What?
” She swung her head then craned away to look at Cross. “No. I’m not sure, so how can you be?”

Cross gave her a
screwed-up smile. “I’m as sure as I am that you’re a sub. Which means pretty fucking certain.”

Izzy

On the way back to Cobalt Harbor in the truck, Izzy ran through what had happened. Cross had never made her come. She guessed she’d been too upset and he’d decided not to. In a way she was disappointed. It wasn’t something she’d ask for, but she’d wanted to...she’d wanted him to make her do it. Funny. Him not taking advantage of her, so to speak, had upped him in her estimation. Instead, he’d thought of her and how unhappy she was. The man had principles. She wondered if he was that rare thing – a good man. Before this she’d been inclined to see him as just another guy, looking to get her into bed. Maybe he was that too. Gorgeous, sexy and good in one man? Wow.

If he was, she should definitely throw herself at his feet
...again. Hah.

But that paled against this other revelation – Gemma might be bi too. Not just doing it because Cross told her to, she was maybe
...possibly, bi. Of course, the other night, the look on Gemma’s face when she’d put her hand between Izzy’s legs had been pretty much rapt.

At the very least, it seemed she’d found people she could be around and still be herself with. Maybe she didn’t have to hide anymore? That would be awesome.

When they’d pulled up in the parking lot at the back of Cross’s shop, he stopped her from getting out, put his hand on her thigh and gave her an assessing look.

“Would you like me to let you have Gemma to play with? Because I can.”

Was he saying what she thought he was?

“I can tie her up.” His hand crept between her legs and he toyed with the line of the seam on the
pants, right down the middle where her slit was. Her nipples had gotten hard at the first part of his suggestion – Gemma at her mercy. How she wanted to hear that woman come beneath her tongue.

He smiled. “Guess you do. Nod if I’m right.”

Her face must have given her away, but then her eyes would be on high beam right then. As if of its own accord, her tongue swept across her lip. She exhaled slowly. “That seems wrong. Tying her up and then, you know.”

“You’re forgetting she can say stop anytime, if she really wants to.”

Oh fuck. Now this was really messing up her head. Was that good? But then what if Gemma did say no? What if? Because that idea drove a pain deep into her chest. Like, she could take rejection from her and not want to go away and die slowly?

Not because she exactly was in love though was it? She couldn’t be and wasn’t, in love
. No, she wasn’t. It was more that this would put that last nail in the coffin of her bisexuality.

The last time, her teenage disaster, had
wrecked her life since forever, and it had been so long since she’d even
vaguely
put truth into a relationship. Guarding herself was second nature.

She swallowed past the thickness in her throat. “I don’t know still. It seems wrong to do this, to anyone.”

“Why? Because it offends you somehow? Even if she has a choice of stopping? How about you wait and see where this goes. Like a first date.”

Slowly, lip trapped in her teeth, she nodded.

He stared at her some more, his gaze drilling into her, narrowing. “Unless I figure it warrants me just making you.”

S
he flipped from contemplating Gemma at her mercy to Cross holding her at his. The double sexual possibilities shocked her.

Irrational anger surfaced. “You’re just aiming to fulfill your sexual fantasies using us.”

He barely altered expression. “Maybe I am. I won’t lie and say my motives for having you two fool around are altruistic. At first, watching you make out because I said so was just hot to watch, but I realized there was something else there – an attraction you weren’t admitting and Gemma didn’t realize she had.” He shrugged. “I see it though, even if she doesn’t. But I’m not a therapist, so you two can keep lying to yourselves if you want to. If my commands give you an excuse to do what you secretly want to, and you never want to be truthful with each other, that’s your decision. I won’t force you out of the closet. For me, it’s enough to watch what I make you do, but is it enough for you?”

He’d flat out admitted it?

She floundered. “I’m not...I’m not...

“Shh. Be a good girl for me.” He kissed her gently on the forehead.

Mouth open, she stared before snapping, “I am
not
a good girl. I’m a woman.”

“
Don’t think I haven’t noticed.” Then he stretched his arm to brush her hair back behind her ear. With his fingers he circled inside her ear then drew a fine whispering trail along her jawline to her mouth. She didn’t move as he rubbed his thumb tip along her bottom lip. The way he handled her made her feel like she was some amazing piece of artwork he was thinking of buying. Scintillating.

She breathed a little harder.

His mouth twitched and he shifted forward to murmur, “Told you, you were good.”

Tonight was going to be interesting.

As they climbed the steps to his apartment, Cross said over his shoulder, “Looks like the little storm that hit us on the way back came here too. It was more than just a little rain.” Above them, she could see leaves stuck wetly to his second story apartment door.

Izzy nodded, pausing halfway up the stairs to look down at the parking lot. Everywhere was sodden, droplets still hung from the cold steel railing under her hand. Branches and leaves from the park opposite were scattered through puddles on the concrete below. “Wow. The wind must have been bad. I hope Gemma missed this.”

She checked her watch. They were supposed to all meet here tonight. This time she and Gemma had definitely arranged to cook.

“She’s not due for half an hour,” Cross
said reassuringly.

“No
, I didn’t miss it! I’m fucking soaked!” said Gemma from above.

Cross took the rest of the steps with big strides. “Hello
, pretty girl. I didn’t realize there was a wet t-shirt contest on my porch, or we’d have been home sooner to ogle you.”

After some scuffling sounds, Gemma rose into view. Her hair was plastered to her face. Izzy arrived behind Cross in time to see him help her up. Under a tan leather jacket, Gemma’s
t-shirt was also soaked and stuck to all the pleasant curves of her breasts.

She wrenched her gaze away
and looked at Cross instead, though it was no better. “Poor girl. She needs your special brand of pneumonia repellant.”

He smiled. “She’ll get it.”

Gemma gestured to her clothes, her face in an expression of outrage. “I was waiting for you two and a crazy storm came and dumped this on me.”

Cross fumbled with his key and shoved. The door swung in, creaking a little. “Okay. Come in and I’ll find you some dry clothes and hot coffee. Then you will explain why you didn’t let yourself in with the key.” The last was said in an ominous tone. Cross frowned at Gemma from under his brow.

Cross had told them both where he hid his spare key – in the pot down beneath the stairs. She’d never tell two strangers that after such a short time. Truthfully, when he’d showed them the hiding spot, it had made her glow inside to be counted among the trustworthy.

“Uh. Maybe because I don’t do creepy stalker-type behavior?” She slipped past him and sauntered down the corridor
, leaving a wet trail of footprints. “It’s nothing. I’m perfectly fine. Just wet and not in a good way.” She pointed harshly at Cross, who was smirking, then she vanished around the corner. A moment later she popped her head back to look at them. “I’ll start coffee. That is if the Neanderthal wants some?” She switched focus. “Izzy? You?”

Coughing to hold back a laugh, Izzy peeked past Cross’s broad back and waved a hand. “Sure,
with lots of cream!”

“Okay. And black for you?”

Cross was still taking off his boots but he nodded. “Yes. Do you remember what I said about respect, Gemma?”

Something about his calmness made a shiver run up Izzy’s spine. The man
didn’t seem the sort to take being called a Neanderthal lying down.

“Need coffee before I can remember things.
” Then Gemma vanished again.

“Um. You don’t mind her calling you that?”

He reached past her and closed the door, then turned the lock. His body size made it impossible to get past him. “It was affectionate. Some things I let slide. I can appreciate humor, but you might not want to question my decisions as your Dom. It’ll get you into more trouble than she’s in. For now, if you must know, I’m going to show her where the line in the sand is.” He smiled then gestured for her to go first.

Did that mean spanking, or not? She ducked under his arm. Though it seemed wicked in some way, she was looking forward to seeing him spank Gemma, if that was what he intended.

“What are you planning?” she whispered, grinning.

“You’ll see.”

Yep, maybe she
was
kinkier than she’d thought.

In the kitchen, Cross went straight up behind Gemma and put his hands on her waist.

“Hey.” She tried to turn but couldn’t seem to manage and shot Cross a puzzling look over her shoulder. “What?”

“Put down the cups. I want to check
on you first. You look half frozen.”

Her eyebrows rose.
“I’m a big girl, Cross. I don’t need your pneumonia repellant, whatever that is.”

“I need to.
Looking after you is my responsibility, and I take it seriously.”

S
he connected with Izzy’s eyes for a moment then sighed when Izzy nodded the slightest bit. “Oh fine. If you must.”

When she’d put aside the cups and the jar of coffee, Cross swept the cups farther to the right then lifted her onto the counter with ease.

“So, no spanking?” Izzy blurted. The quizzical look they both gave her made her snort. “Sorry. Just I was looking forward to it after that Neanderthal comment.”

“Izzy! You little traitor. I hate
getting spanked! You wouldn’t wish that on me, would you?”

Eyebrows raised as high as they’d go
, and grinning, Izzy shrugged. “Maybe.”

“Why?” Her palms flat on the counter, after a small jiggle of her hips, Gemma glared indignantly.
From the curve of her lips, she was also amused.

Izzy floundered and couldn’t help the heat spreading across her face, especially when Cross also seemed to be assessing her. No way was she telling them she’d liked the look of Gemma ass-up across his knee. She shrugged and put on her best who-knows-and-who-cares expression.

When she didn’t answer, Gemma cocked her head and raised an eyebrow. Her resolve cracked and Izzy wanted to hide somewhere fast.

Fuck, why had she said that?

Cross rescued her.

“Come here.” He grabbed her around the waist too, and plonked her on the counter beside Gemma.

Gemma leaned in and whispered. “If he spanks me ’cause of you, I’ll get revenge.”

“I didn’t
do
anything!” she protested in a return whisper.

“Quiet, both of you,” Cross ordered.

They both looked at him. The synchronization of that response made Izzy want to giggle. Maybe he was turning them into trained seals? Despite them being up on the counter, he was higher, taller. A calm assertion of superiority seemed to rest in his dark eyes. Funny, how that made her feel good. Same as in the truck, she plain liked being around him. He was a rock in the middle of the craziness of life.

“Good girls.” The broad smile that broke across his lips made her even warmer. For once, Gemma was silent. Izzy shifted enough that their arms brushed.

He focused on Gemma and placed his hands on top of her thighs. “Okay. Now I can see you properly. You’re soaked. You look white and you’re cold, but from your mouthiness I guess you’ll survive. I’ll get you one of my big towels to wrap around you, though.”

Just as he came back bearing a huge fluffy blue towel, t
he kettle reached a crescendo of boiling and clicked off loudly.

“
Here.” He handed the towel to Gemma. “I’ll take care of the coffee. You two stay up there and I’ll serve.”

“You’re serving us?” She
draped the towel around her shoulders and eyed him as he rattled mugs and spoons, poured the water, and found a packet of chocolate-coated cookies.

It wasn’t until he’d done everything and hoisted himself up onto the counter too, across from them, that Cross spoke. “
Of course. You don’t think I’m so heartless I’d make you serve me sopping wet, cold, and tired, do you? Being a Dom isn’t a selfish thing. Your care comes before mine, despite what you may think.”

They both gave him a skeptical glare.

“Do I keep your desires in mind when we play? Do I ask you over and over if you’re okay? Do I make sure you get off, sometimes even before I do?”

They nodded.

It was true, of all her lovers, Cross was the most considerate, even if he did experiment on her and Gemma with bondage and spanking. A mixture of excitement and fear ran through her when she wondered what had become of the dreaded strap. How Dominant would Cross get if he went full throttle? The last two weekends when they’d managed to synchronize their time off, he seemed to have slowed down. Breaking them in gradually, maybe?