Shades of Pleasure: Five Stories of Domination and Submission (6 page)

“Can I get you anything to eat or drink before we head up to
bed?”

A little ripple of…something pleasant…worked through her
body. It was the
we
associated with the word
bed
that did it to
her. Her face was suddenly really warm. So were a few other parts of her
anatomy.

“Maybe something to drink? Something cold?”

“Sure.” He shrugged out of his jacket then helped her out of
hers. Set them both on a nearby chair then reached for a glass from an open
shelf.

She stared at his butt, partly because it was there and
partly because it looked so good in those black pants. This guy did not have
the typical guy flat-ass. His was rounded just enough to be sexy. She guessed
the source of the shape was one hundred percent muscle. She’d spent enough time
in a gym to know.

How she lusted after a guy with great glutes.

And shoulders. Of course, Kyler’s were wide and thickly
muscled. She could see the way the muscles bulged as he moved, even through the
crisp white button-down shirt he wore.

He dispensed some ice into the glass then asked, “Any
preference? Soft drink? Iced tea? Bottled water?”

Just for kicks, she blurted, “Perrier?” Not because she
actually knew what was so special about that particular brand, but just because
she hoped it made her sound a little refined. She was most definitely feeling a
smidge outclassed. Not a feeling she was unaccustomed to, but for some reason,
it was unusually uncomfortable tonight.

She didn’t want to think why that might be.

“No problem.” He opened the fridge, twisted open one of
those recognizable bottles and poured some into the glass. “There you are.”

“Thanks.” Their fingers brushed as she took the glass from
him, and a little buzz of energy licked up her arm. Their gazes met, and for a
moment she wanted to forget all about the whole blackmailing thing and just
pretend they were on a date, doing guy-and-girl kinds of things.

Tearing her gaze from his, she turned to admire the living
room as she took her first sip of the French bottled water she’d never bothered
to buy before. It was good, but not great. Did the job okay, which was really
all she cared about at the moment. Her mouth was so dry she could barely speak.
She swallowed several more mouthfuls. Yeah, not bad at all, but hardly worth
the ridiculous price.

“How about a snack?” At the refrigerator again, he pulled
some small plastic containers out and set them on the shiny black granite
counter.

“I’m still pretty full from dinner.” That was a lie. She’d
barely touched her food. But she was too jittery to eat right now. Not to
mention, she’d long ago made a rule against eating anything that could not be
easily identified.

Orange pasty stuff. White creamy stuff. That was most
definitely not identifiable. So, instead of digging in, she leaned back against
the counter, sipped her water, and watched Kyler work.

“Would you like to sit?” He motioned to the row of bar
stools lining the raised side of the kitchen island.

“Sure.” She walked around the front of the island and sat,
watched him collect a plate, knife, box of crackers.

The guy seemed to get better looking with every second that
ticked by. How was that possible?

He sat beside her, and she was instantly aware of how close
he was. The air between their bodies felt warmer than the rest of the room. And
sort of zip-zappy, like little currents of electricity were jolting between
their bodies.

He pulled out a cracker, smeared some of the orange stuff on
it and, smiling over his shoulder, offered it to her. “Are you sure you aren’t
hungry?”

She was, but her insides were kind of jumbled up, and she
was a smidge afraid of putting something foreign—and potentially dangerous—into
her stomach. There was no way she was going to tell him that though. So she
just said, “I’m sure. Thanks anyway.”

“Okay.” He popped the cracker into his mouth, chewed. Washed
it down with a sip of wine.

An uncomfortable silence hung between them, and despite the
sensual awareness warming her skin and making her all tingly, a question hung
from the tip of her tongue. A question that would totally put a dampener on the
date-like vibe of the moment.

How would she ever sleep? In a strange house, with the
stress of a job loss—and maybe jail, gah!—looming over her head.

She needed a little of that wine. Not a lot. She wasn’t a
big drinker, had the occasional glass on special nights, holidays, that kind of
thing. She hadn’t gotten loaded since college. Tempting as it was to do so
tonight, there was no way she’d do something so idiotic.

“Mind if I upgrade to something a little harder?” She lifted
her glass, motioning toward his.

“Sure. What can I get you?” He popped another loaded cracker
into his mouth. A tiny smudge of orange clung to his upper lip, and she couldn’t
help staring at it.

“How about some of whatever you’re drinking?”

“Coming right up.” He got her a fresh wineglass, grabbed the
bottle sitting on the counter next to the wine cooler, and sat back in his
seat. He poured her a full glass then handed it to her. “There you go.”

“Thanks.” Her gaze still locked on that bit of orange on his
lip, she took a cautious taste. Ooh, yum. She took several more swallows then
pointed at her own mouth. “Um, you’ve got something there.”

“Where?” He wiped the wrong spot, like people always did.
And she was forced to lean closer and actually touch his face with her finger.
“There.”

A big jolt of electricity charged up her arm, almost feeling
as though she’d just touched a live wire. She froze, unable to pull her hand
away, unable to move at all. He leaned closer, and she realized he was looking
at her mouth.

Oh God, was he going to kiss her?

“I…uh…have always admired your shoes,” she jabbered, so
nervous she didn’t even know what she was saying. Her brain was stuck, like an
old fashioned record, playing the same thought over and over.

He’s going to kiss me. He’s going to kiss me. Ohmygod,
ohmygod, ohmygod!

Then their mouths were touching. Just barely. And she quit
breathing, which was not good. She closed her eyes, frozen in place, waiting,
dizzy.

He cupped her face in his hands and gently brushed his mouth
back and forth over hers. It was the softest, most sensual kiss she’d ever
experienced.

“Oh God,” she heard herself say.

He answered with a rumbling, sexy chuckle that made her
warmer yet.

Her heart started banging hard against her breastbone and
she took a little frantic gasp of air.

She felt as if she was melting inside, her bones softening,
the rest of her turning into slick heat. A tingly warmth gathered between her
legs.

“You want this, don’t you?” he asked against her mouth.

She did, most definitely. In fact, crazy or not, she wanted
a whole lot more than a teasing, sultry kiss. But all she could say was,
“Ahhh…”

She slid her hands up the smooth material of his shirt until
she felt the stiff collar. By the time she had her fingers wrapped around his
silk tie, she was more than a little desperate for the kiss to deepen. Enough
to take matters into her own hands. She climbed to her feet, so that she could
wedge her body between his legs, and pressed against him. Her nipples were
sensitive, hard little peaks, roughened against the lace cup of her bra.

And still, he kept that kiss soft and fleeting, the worst
kind of torture. She looped her arms around his neck, angling her mouth,
“You’re so mean,” she murmured.

“And you like that too, don’t you.”

She did. In a way. And in another, she most definitely did
not. She pulled on his neck, trying to force him to possess her more fully with
his mouth. But instead, he skimmed his lips over her cheekbone then kissed a
tingly path from her ear to her collarbone.

He gently pulled her arms from his neck, pushing them down
then forcing them behind her back. He used one fist as a handcuff, holding them
together. With the other one, he supported the back of her neck.

Oh…she was going to need a whole lot more support than that,
very soon. Goosebumps tickled the skin of her neck and back, her chest and
stomach. Her bones were melting, her muscles twitching.

She could hardly believe this was happening. Kyler Pierce,
the guy all the women in the office lusted after but no one got—including Nikki
the office babe—was nibbling her neck right now. Hers!

So much for the theory that he was gay.

For the first time today, she was actually kind of glad
she’d been blackmailed by Matt Becker. Look where it had led her. Into the arms
of an absolute hunk. Gorgeous. Successful. Sexy.

“Time for bed,” Kyler mumbled, tearing his lips from Elena’s
neck. Damn, but if he didn’t put some distance between the sweet-tasting little
lady and his hot self right now, he’d do something he’d seriously regret.

Business first. He had to deal with the Becker thing before
he let himself explore the sizzling chemistry between them. It was only fair.

He jerked her against him one last time. Dammit, she fit
against him so perfectly.

She looked bewildered when he finally released her. “Uh,
okay.” She caught the back of the stool, steadied herself.

He licked his lower lip, tasting her. Raked his fingers
through his hair. His balls were heavy and tight, like lead. Her hair was
mussed, her cheeks flushed, lips swollen, and he could still see those two
beautiful, hard nipples poking through the fabric of her top. A woman ripe and
ready for a good, long fuck.

But not tonight.

Wondering if a guy could die from blue balls, he downed the
rest of his wine and led her up the stairs to the guest bedroom. After making
sure she had everything she’d need for the night, he left, heading straight for
the shower.

It was a poor substitute, but he’d have to settle for his
hand and a bar of soap to relieve the pressure. But someday—maybe—he’d have the
real thing. With the first woman who’d intrigued him in a long, long time.

* * * * *

Elena didn’t sleep. It wasn’t because she was physically
uncomfortable. How could she be in this bed? The mattress was like a freaking
cloud, it was so soft. And the bedroom was absolutely beautiful.

But the constant stream of thoughts running through her mind
just wouldn’t stop. She lay there all night, trying to figure out what Kyler
was thinking, how she’d keep her job, why he’d stopped kissing her when it was
so obvious she’d wanted things to go much, much farther.

She could taste him on her lips for hours afterward, smell
his skin on her fingers. She’d always thought he was an attractive man. But now
that she’d been this close, now that he’d looked at her like that—like he
wanted her so bad it hurt—she found him absolutely irresistible.

It was hard to remember that he might end up causing her to
lose her job and the insurance she so desperately needed. She didn’t want to
think about that right now. Not when she felt such an overwhelming connection
with him. It was at least ten times more powerful than any she’d felt for a guy
before.

Their timing just plain sucked.

Then again, she wondered, would she have ever realized how
she felt about Kyler—or how he felt about her—if Matt hadn’t shoved them both
into this corner?

By sunrise, she was exhausted and ten times more confused
than she’d been the night before. She ached to tell Kyler everything, including
what Matt was holding over her head, and why she was so desperate to hold onto
her job. But there were some secrets she simply couldn’t tell anyone,
especially people from work.

Only Ashley knew, and that was because they’d been friends
for so long.

She showered and donned the fluffy white robe Kyler had
given her last night. There was a knock at the door, just as she’d exited the
attached bathroom. A towel wrapped around her long hair, she padded barefoot
across the world’s softest carpet to open the door.

Kyler.

Her heart did a weird little hop in her chest. “Hi.”

“Good morning.” His gaze swept down her body then back up.
“Do you need a little longer?”

“Just a few minutes. Sorry, I didn’t realize we were on a
schedule. I never sleep in this late.”

“It’s okay.” He smiled and her heart did another lurch in
her chest. It was the oddest sensation. Strange and yet kind of good too.
“Whenever you’re ready, come on down for breakfast.”

“Will do. Thanks.” She wanted to say more, but she didn’t.
She just waited for him to turn away and then shut the door.

Anxious to get downstairs, she rushed to dress, throwing on
yesterday’s clothes—sans the used underwear—and hurried downstairs. She found
him in the kitchen, looking all domestic, stirring something in a huge frying
pan on the stove.

Whatever it was, it smelled amazing.

Talk about amazing, he was wearing a pair of sweats and a
snug tank top that provided her very first view of bare arms and shoulders.

Droooool!

“What are you cooking there?” she asked, her gaze focused on
his narrow waist. She could imagine herself smoothing her hands around his
sides, and tucking herself against his back. Instead, she stopped at the raised
counter and slipped into a bar stool.

“It’s my own creation. Egg beaters, vegi sausage, and
cheese, onions and peppers. Would you like to try some? Or can I make you
something else?”

Elena’s mouth was watering, and she realized just how
starving she was. It seemed her jittery nerves weren’t going to stand in the
way of eating this morning. “If that concoction tastes as great as it smells,
you may need to make another batch. I might eat it all.”

He chuckled. What a great sound it was. She could listen to
him do that for hours.

He served up two plates, poured a couple of glasses of
orange juice, set the newspaper between their plates and joined her at the bar.
Such a gentleman, he didn’t take a bite until she did.