Authors: Brynn Paulin
“Oh,” she replied in disappointment. Did he plan to claim his two weeks later, when he returned? Or hadn’t he been serious about that? She started to pull back. He halted her progress, dropping his hand to her waist. His thumb massaged her middle, the touch imprinted on her senses.
“I want you to come with me,” he told her.
“Okay.” That was easy. Just like that. Her family might freak out if she disappeared without prior warning. She’d deal with them.
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Gentle Control
“And,” he continued, “you’ve always depended on your father for everything. I made the mistake of not seeing that before.”
She sighed, seeing his point. Her father and her need of his support had been one of the main issues between them in the end. She tilted her head, waiting.
“I have money, Tempest. When I’m with you I don’t want anything to do with your cash. That includes even
you
using it. I will provide for your needs.”
She wanted to protest, the thought of total dependence cinching tightly around her.
“For two weeks?”
For two weeks? he thought. His gut reaction was to add “or as long as it takes”.
Good lord, it had already been eight years. “As long as it takes” could take forever. He pushed a burst of hope aside. Determination settled in its place. He’d take the allotted time then somehow convince her to give him more. Somehow.
She bit her lip, sadness flitting through her guileless brown eyes. Her emotions were so easy to read. The sadness kicked him in the ass. Had he read her wrongly? Did she find being with him for two weeks distasteful? Was she upset by his demand? A good man would probably have offered his forgiveness or whatever and sent her on her way. A man like this Phillip. A shocking surge of blind jealousy shot through him. Josh had never claimed to be a good man and he wasn’t planning to make a life change now.
Damn it. It didn’t matter how much time had passed. Tempest was his and by the time two weeks were over, she’d know it.
She took a deep breath as if strengthening herself for a battle and her lips turned up, all signs of her brief sadness disappearing. “You’ll be bored with me before then.
Look at you. You probably have hoards of gorgeous woman banging down your door.”
His hands tightened on her hips. Apparently, her family had shot to hell her self-esteem while they’d been parted. All the more reason to get her firmly back where she belonged. “You know damned well that I won’t get bored with you.”
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“I’m overweight.”
“And I couldn’t possibly be attracted to you because of that?” How could she not know how beautiful she was and how much he wanted between her lush thighs again—well more than he was now? Just holding her like this or watching her walk, even watching her breathe, made him hard. He shifted his hips slightly so she’d know exactly how hard. With her position on the bike and all the clothes between them, he couldn’t get close enough.
She stared at his shirt to avoid his gaze. Though she dropped occasional jabs about her size, discussing weight made Tempest uncomfortable. He’d learned early on that she made fun of herself as self-protection. If she joked about it, then maybe no one else would. Maybe she wouldn’t be hurt. The problem was that her tactics worked on most people, but those closest to her, those who should have treated her best, were often the most hurtful.
As a result, Tempest saw an undesirable woman in the mirror instead of the goddess who could bring him to his knees.
“Why
would
you want me when you can have any woman who looks like a model from a fashion magazine?”
“I’m not particularly into pouting sticks.” He stroked his hand over her soft belly, unbelievably turned on to have Tempest in his grasp. “I do however love to have a woman who fills my arms, who feels good against me. A woman who is soft and feminine and makes me feel even more a man.” He pulled her close so her full breasts were pressed to him, her mouth inches from his. “How could I get bored exploring these killer curves?”
Her breath feathered across him. “Okay. You can have what you want.”
He grinned, knowing he wanted far more than she thought she’d agreed to. This fourteen days was only the beginning. If he had his way, this would last as long as he could make it. He turned to the saddle bags of the motorcycle before she saw his smile fade. He’d claim his time with her but what would he do if she walked away? Prissy 20
Gentle Control
socialites just didn’t stick with rough-around-the-edges guys like him. He’d learned that the first time around. His family might be wealthy, but hers was far wealthier. She was a goddess and he was a working-class acolyte. That she was a submissive and he was her Dominant, didn’t play into it at all—though it should.
He wouldn’t let her walk away this time. Not without one hell of a fight. He should have fought last time, yet he’d let her go. He might have been a Dom before, just as he was now, but he’d been young. He hadn’t known what to do especially when John Montgomery had threatened his father’s company. An idle threat. He recognized it now.
Youth, threats and stupidity made a great recipe for regret. It was time for something new. Wiser and more mature.
He’d spent the last eight years ensuring no one could push him around ever again.
Even someone as powerful as John Montgomery.
He pulled a spare helmet from the storage compartment and handed it to Tempest.
Fighting the temptation to lose himself in their embrace again, he lifted her from the seat. “Time to go.”
“To go?” She trailed off as his meaning sank in. “I can’t ride that.”
He eyed her, liking the idea of her skirt hiked up while she clung to his back. “You can. And you will. Get on the bike, Tempest.”
To an outsider, he knew his words would sound harsh. Not to Tempest. She’d recognize his demand for what it was. The sooner he reasserted his dominance, the sooner they’d return to familiar ground where their desire could again take deep root.
She pursed her lips, a battle warring on her face as she looked away. It was always a battle with them and right now she was deciding whether or not to let him resume his role as her Dominant. It didn’t matter that she was a natural submissive, that she’d been his before or that she’d verbally agreed. She was fighting against the mental chains that would soon bind her. They fit her so well, yet she had to decide.
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Josh carefully kept his face noncommittal. This was Tempest’s battle. He would not persuade. She had to decide without his influence. He didn’t want anyone to say she’d been coerced, though her father would likely bellow that accusation loudly.
Tempest considered him, the chin strap of the helmet rolling between her fingers.
Uncertainty played over her face. Should she? Shouldn’t she? It was all there plainly for him to see. She’d said yes to his earlier dictate, nevertheless until she took this first order, she wasn’t his submissive. At least…she didn’t think so. He knew the truth.
She’d never stopped belonging to him.
He climbed onto the motorcycle while her teeth sank into her plump bottom lip.
Slowly she raised her hands and shoved the helmet over her blonde locks.
Determination filled her features now that she’d chosen her path. Hiking up her skirt, she climbed behind him. He smiled at the space she left between their bodies. Reaching back, he pulled her flush to him.
“You know how this works, angel,” he said, fighting a groan at the feel of her lush thighs bracketing his. Soon they’d be around his hips again while he sank into her.
Unable to resist, he slid his palm back over her leg. Her skirt enveloped his hand as he slipped his fingers inside her panties and cupped her smooth ass.
Happy birthday, Josh.
If he’d taken months to consider what he wanted, he couldn’t have thought of a better present. This would be damn perfect.
* * * * *
Tempest tightened her arms around Josh’s waist as he took a sharp curve. She squeezed her eyes shut. She hadn’t been on a motorcycle since she’d been on his in college. Phillip and the few men she’d dated before him all drove nondescript luxury cars, usually black. She doubted any of them would consider the beast roaring between her legs. It was the perfect match for the beast who’d soon be taking the motorcycle’s place between her thighs.
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Gentle Control
Her clit tingled when she thought of Josh surging inside her. Would her memories of his wide cock match reality? She didn’t doubt she’d discover that as soon as they arrived wherever he was taking her. One corner of her mouth turned up as she realized she hadn’t bothered to find out where they were going.
She took a deep breath to calm the excitement tearing through her. The butterflies cascading around her stomach would burst free if she didn’t get a grip. When she’d come to Josh, she hadn’t envisioned she’d end up in his bed. Well, that wasn’t exactly true. She’d fantasized about it. Maybe this was part of that visualization thing she’d heard so much about lately. Maybe she’d visualized herself straight into his bed. If that was the case, perhaps she should put more weight in the whole New Age-y thing.
Her father would have a fit when he found out about this, especially in light of the upcoming wedding. There was no manifestation or imagination needed to know that.
Of course if Phillip and her father would listen to her, they wouldn’t still be counting on her merger with Phillip—in her head that’s what it was. A sterile business transaction with each person getting something they wanted.
Perhaps this was the best course of action to make it clear she did not want to go through with the wedding. Lord knew, she’d talked herself blue and they still ignored her decision, segueing from her announcement that she absolutely would not marry Phillip to a discussion of how many guests to invite to the ceremony. After several frustrating minutes of arguing and being ignored, she’d stormed out. No matter what she’d said, her words had been brushed away. The time for words had passed. Now was time for action. Being with Josh would get her point across even if her father had a figurative coronary. The thought seemed coldly calculated except that she wanted this brief time with Josh more than anything.
A temporary liaison.
Even if he suddenly offered forever, she couldn’t have it. She knew that. There were too many factors to consider. Her family. Her career. Her freedom. She couldn’t see having any of those things if she was with Josh. In the end, she might actually end up 23
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married to Phillip but that would be her clear-headed decision. It wouldn’t be the result of her father’s approval of his hand-picked man and her residual regrets over Josh wouldn’t remain over her head.
You’re a complete idiot, Tempest.
Hmm. Nice self talk. She made a face, thinking of the self-help books that told her to speak nicely to herself.
You’re the world’s greatest idiot
, she revised. How on earth was she supposed to banish her desires for Josh when she had her arms wrapped around his rock-hard belly? The roar of the motorcycle and the brush of his long hair against her cheek reminded her how different he was from her fiancé. Josh had always been a bad boy but now he seemed even rougher around the edges.
Phillip was the polar opposite of Josh. He’d never consider piercings, long hair or a motorcycle. The low-slung jeans stretched over Josh’s powerful thighs would have been out of the question, even on cleaning day. Perfect Phillip was John Montgomery’s perfect choice for his less-than-perfect daughter. Her father liked Phillip. He didn’t like Josh a bit—had never even given him a chance. When she’d been in college, her father had freaked when he’d discovered the BDSM aspect of her relationship with her boyfriend. He’d yanked her from college, telling her he would yank all financial support too, including her tuition, if she didn’t cooperate.
At the time, she’d thought she had no choices. Josh was new in comparison to her family. How could she choose him over them? When her father had arrived at her apartment and discovered them in the midst of a tame but nonetheless clearly D/s scene, he’d demanded she get dressed and go to the car immediately.
She’d obeyed him while Josh demanded then begged her not to go. She didn’t know what her father had said to him after she’d left. It had been her last contact with Josh. Movers had been hired to get her things.
She’d cried for weeks afterward. As an adult she knew how she would do things differently if she were in the same situation now. But being older and wiser didn’t make 24
Gentle Control
a difference. That experience was in the past and she couldn’t change it. Time hadn’t done much to dull the blow she’d dealt to Josh nor his anger at it.
How desperate did it make her that she’d agree to whatever he wanted to gain closure from him—not that she objected much to being under him for the next two weeks. As soon as she’d seen him, she’d known she wanted him again. Maybe she
could
get him out of her system and move on with her plans for her life. They both could move on. Josh needed this too. One look into his red-hot gaze and it was obvious he still battled the same memory demons that haunted her.
She wished she could see his face now. Actually maybe it was good that she couldn’t. She was already all melty inside. Her front quivered where they were pressed together and she ached to feel his bare skin against hers even if she wasn’t too keen on him seeing her naked.
Josh had always seemed to like her body, but that was when they were younger and he was a horny college student. He’d been gorgeous before as a lanky youth. Now all grown up and filled out in all the right places, he was the hottest thing this side of hell.
Before she was ready, Josh swung into a tree-lined driveway and rolled to a stop in front of a two-stall garage attached to a sprawling two-story house. Silently, he led her into his home. Filtered light slashed across a neat living room. She barely had time to register it, before he pushed her against the door. His mouth slanted over hers, pressing her lips apart for his invading tongue. The warm little ball in the center of it rubbed sensuously against her.