Bound and Determined (9 page)

He grabbed the phone and punched the button for the front desk. He requested a toothbrush for himself, coffee for both of them, a pastry for her, and he added they’d be leaving in about half an hour and would need a taxi.

Keeping her body angled away from him, as if that could lessen his ardour, she wrapped herself in her robe.

“Leave that bathroom door open a crack,” he called out when she slipped from the bed and headed across the room, “else I’ll take it off the hinges. And yes, I would.”

Her response was earthy, and a four-letter word, no matter the language.

Still, she was a smart woman and she was learning. She left the door open a crack.

While she freshened up, a bit difficult he imagined as she’d already gathered up her toiletries, he grabbed toothpaste and a hairbrush from her bag, before organising her clothing so the bag would actually zip shut. Seemed the woman was a disaster at taking care of her stuff.

Moments later housekeeping arrived with his toothbrush. She promised the coffee would arrive shortly, and they’d deliver it in to-go cups.

Her eyes widened at the sight of the tip he gave her. ‘Twas worth every penny if it made Sinead happy.

Sinead might think him an ogre, but he waited for her to finish up. It wasn’t until after he heard the toilet flush that he pushed opened the door.

He stopped short and stared, entranced. His woman was taking a bidet.

Her back to him, she was crouched over the water’s spray, her labia spread, her hips angled forward. If he didn’t miss his guess, she was halfway to an orgasm, one he hadn’t given her permission to take. They’d certainly be discussing that later. For now, he just wanted to see her get off.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing barging in here?” she demanded, looking over her shoulder. Her voice cracked and her face turned red, from her jaw to her cheeks.

“We need to be accustomed to sharing personal space, and I need to freshen up before we go to the airport.” He continued into the room, rubbing the shadow on his jaw. “I could do with a shave, but it can wait until we’re on the plane. Carry on with what you’re doing.”

“I…” She dropped her right hand to the knob to shut off the water then reached for a towel. “Christ on a stick, Quinn.”

He squirted toothpaste on the toothbrush, as if catching her on the brink of an orgasm was an everyday occurrence. In the mirror, he looked at her.

“I was just cleaning up.”

“Don’t let me stop you.” He made a mental note to have a bidet installed in every bathroom he owned.

“I—”

“I’ll tolerate no shyness between us,” he said. He splashed water on his hair and face. His kingdom for a razor. “Your choice, Sinead. You started down this path. Turn that water back on and continue to masturbate, or I’ll turn it on for you. And if I do, I’ll make sure you’re not only clean, but that you have multiple orgasms.”

Her eyes widened. “You’d…” She stumbled for words. “You’d…”

“In fact, that’s a marvellous idea.” He dried his hands on a towel.

“Oh, no you don’t, you scoundrel.”

“Your choice,
a rún
.”

My dear? He was calling her
my dear
? He had nerve. She gritted her teeth. “Fine. I’ll do it myself.”

“More’s the pity.”

He dropped the towel and regarded her.

Her eyes were wide and her cheeks were still red. She appeared both embarrassed and aroused by his earthy demand.

As he waited with infinite patience, she turned the water back on and adjusted the temperature before closing her eyes and rocking her hips. She held her labia apart with one hand, and she slid the index finger of her right hand across her clit.

The water’s spray and her positioning made it impossible for him to see as clearly as he wanted. But watching her reaction was enough for him.

As the orgasm built, her head tipped back, and her fiery blonde hair spilled over her shoulders and down her back.

She moved her finger faster and faster and her hips all but gyrated.

He couldn’t help himself.

He moved in closer and stood behind her. He reached around her to cup her breasts. As her breaths became desperate gulps for air, he flicked his thumbs across her nipples, making the nubs even harder.

“Jack!”

“Aye.” Damn but his cock was hard as a mountain. He hoped that when he finally fucked her he’d last longer than a teenager.

“I’m there,” she said.

She was asking permission, he realised.
Shite
. He could ejaculate without even touching his dick at this point. “Come for me, Sinead.”

Her vulva was reddened from the heat, and she jerked against the spray. He couldn’t be more delighted with her. His worst nightmare wasn’t a woman like Sinead. His worst nightmare was a woman who was cold, unresponsive, even frightened. But this defiant she-devil? He looked forward to the challenge of conquering her.

She screamed out.

Like he knew, she wasn’t one for polite little orgasms. They were drawn from deep inside her. And they turned him on.

She seemed to lose her balance, and he was there, releasing her breasts and holding her around the waist to steady her.

Instead of shoving him away, she grabbed on, her fingers digging into his forearms. She dragged breaths through her partially opened mouth rather than her nose.

If he had his way, he’d keep her fulfilled all the time. She was a sexy, sexy woman.

She blinked, as if returning to herself. “That was…” She trailed off. Then she tried again, “hot.”

“
A rún
, you’ve no idea how hot you are.” Or how fecking much he wanted her. Holding her with only one hand, he reached for a towel. “Allow me.”

He turned off the bidet then he patted her between the legs, drying the water.

There was a knock on the door, followed by a cheery, “Room service!”

“That’ll be your coffee.”

“And a pastry?”

“I value my life.”

She took the towel from him. “I’ll just finish up in here.”

He paid the woman and gave her a generous tip. Not only were the coffees in go-cups, but an assortment of pastries had been placed in a paper bag.

“Your taxi should be here momentarily, sir.”

Sinead came out of the bathroom, and as the other woman closed the door behind her, Sinead dropped the robe and reached for the knickers he’d laid out.

It was as if, momentarily, they had a normal relationship, not one of snarling and gnashing of teeth.

She shimmied into her thong, and the only thing he was thinking was how to get her back out of it.

She fastened her bra in place then pulled on her jeans and another T-shirt while he shamelessly watched. This one had a graphic of a hair dryer and a saucy message to accompany it: This blows.

He might have thought she’d bought it intentionally.

“Is that coffee for me, or are you holding it hostage?”

“Cream,” he said. “And sugar.” He splashed a huge dollop of cream in the cup and stirred in several packets of sugar.

“If that one’s mine, it needs to be sweeter.”

“Jaysus, woman. Your teeth’ll rot.”

“Good. Maybe it’ll keep you from trying to kiss me.”

“No chance. You’ll have your mouth full of my dick every chance I get.” He carried her coffee to her.
 
“You can join me in the bathroom while I brush my teeth.”

“You’ve lost your senses.”

“I’m taking no chances with you, Sinead. I don’t trust you for a moment.”

“If I promise not to dash out the door?”

“Into the bathroom with you.”

She scowled, but she accepted the coffee. She didn’t say thanks—she just wordlessly preceded him into the small room. “I’ll tell you right now, if you decide you want to use the bidet, I’m so out of here, even if I have to jump out the window.”

“Oh, my cock needs a good wash, but it’ll be your mouth doing it.”

She choked on her coffee. He gave her a good pat on the back that nearly lifted her off her feet. While she fought for breath, he brushed his teeth.

“I’ll not make you stay in here while I use the facilities. But this much is clear, Sinead. If you’re not sitting on the bed when I come out, I will tie you to the bloody seat on the aircraft.” He levelled a gaze at her. “Clear?”

“You’re a bastard enough to do it.”

“Believe it.”

When he returned to her, she was sitting on the edge of the bed eating a pastry. He wasn’t sure whether or not he liked her behaving. “Did you save me one?”

She grinned and popped the last bite into her mouth. “No.”

“You ate them all?”

She licked her fingers. “They were delicious. I hope you’re not too hungry.”

His stomach gave an on-cue groan of protest.

“And if you don’t hurry, I’ll have your coffee, as well.”

The phone rang. “That’ll be the taxi.”

She stood and shoved her feet into a pair of sandals.

“Over my shoulder?” he asked. “Or will you walk like a good girl?”

“Good girl?
Good girl
?” Her mouth opened like a fish out of water.

He’d caught her off guard, maybe even pissed her off a bit. He extended the handle on her bag and started towards the door, grabbing his coffee from the table on the way.

He opened the door for her. “You need to know, Sinead, it’s always your choice. I’ll treat you with the respect and trust you earn. But I do rather enjoy you being over my shoulder with my hand on your arse. You might spill your coffee, though.”

She tossed her hair like royalty and breezed past him to punch the elevator call button. She moved all the way to the back of the car, as far away from him as possible. In a move that was sexy as hell but something she hadn’t done intentionally, she propped her gorgeously shaped buttocks against the brass rail.

The illusion that they’d been a couple had been just that—an illusion.

* * * *

Jack was a master of understatement.

He didn’t own a plane; he owned a jet. The plane was more than transportation, it was home and office and pub rolled into a luxurious package.

She sank into a ridiculously soft oversized seat. It was more like an armchair than a standard airline seat. It didn’t hurt her backside, still a bit tender from his late night spanking—despite the fact he said her derriere wasn’t red. It might not look abused to him, but it felt a bit that way to her.

She wasn’t really sure what she thought of the spanking. Being over his knee, his powerful hand falling on her exposed arse, had been more of a turn-on than she’d imagined, and she’d had high expectations from her first spanking. Still, she was annoyed. Why did he, of all people, have to be the man who finally gave her what she wanted?

“The seat reclines.” Jack stowed her baggage in a small closet that had plenty of shelving. “A footrest will pop up as you go backwards. Much better for circulation.”

She noticed there were no overhead bins on this plane, presumably so that someone as tall as Jack could stand comfortably.

“Something to drink, Ms O’Malley?”

She looked up as a middle-aged man approached them. He was a very good-looking gentleman, with a shock of silver hair and a quick smile. He wore an apron over his button-down shirt and navy-coloured slacks. “I’m Aonghus, and I’ll be taking care of you during the flight.”

Another surprise. She expected Jack to employ young, sexy females. But a man…? She wished Jack weren’t so complex, wished she could pigeonhole him and dismiss him as being shallow. “Coffee?” she asked hopefully.

“Use half a container of creamer,” Jack said as he shut the closet door. “And a full bag of sugar.”

She scowled at him.

“A bit of coffee with your cream?” the man asked.

She smiled at the attendant.

Jack took a seat next to her. “I’d pay good money to see a smile like that directed at me.”

“You’ll be waiting a while.”

She’d never travelled like this. In all her travel with the band, she’d never even had an upgrade to first class. She was accustomed to the least expensive seat on a plane, and it seemed she was most often miserably shoved into a centre seat, especially on transatlantic flights.

Because she could, she stretched out her legs.

“A pastry, ma’am?” the attendant asked, returning with her steaming cup of coffee. “We’ll have breakfast available as soon as we’re airborne, but in case you need something to hold you over…?”

“We have croissants, I believe,” Jack said, raising a questioning brow in the man’s direction.

“Chocolate and plain,” the attendant confirmed.

Chocolate?
She wouldn’t be dancing much in the upcoming days until she was back in Ireland and could get away from Jack by fair means or foul, and she’d already had several pastries. Really, she shouldn’t. But what the hell? She needed energy to deal with Quinn, and if breakfast had protein, it would cancel out the effects of the carbohydrate overload. Or that’s what she told herself. “You’ve talked me into it.”