Crossing Lines (13 page)

His command, delivered in a rough, raspy voice, made her good leg go weak, and she grabbed hold of the waist-high dresser for balance.

“These are things your friend sells?”

She swallowed again and went for a joke, hoping to ease a little of the tension. “I’m a quality control tester. If I give a good rating, she sells it. If not…” She shrugged and glanced at the leather slapper in his hand.

“Can I assume you only keep the good stuff, or…” He picked up the Long Dong and flipped his eyes to her. “Does the bad stuff settle to the bottom while your favorites stay on top?”

She flicked her attention to the paddle and chewed her bottom lip. “Something like that.”

He replaced the vibrator and traced a pattern in the wood-grain paddle, as she’d done the night before. She tried to settle her choppy breathing by drawing in deep, uneven breaths, but it was a losing battle.

“What’s your favorite?”

She glanced at the Double Dong and shook her head.
Oh, hell no.
It was bad enough he learned she had a whole drawer full of this stuff; no way would she share her deepest secrets. She didn’t need to vocalize anything, however. Her eyes had given her away.

He picked up the double dildo and his eyebrows arched dramatically. His throat pumped a few times before he cleared it and said, “Can you take this whole thing, sugar?”

She pressed her lips together and willed her body not to betray her further.

“I’m taking your silence as a yes. Interesting…”

She pressed her palms against the dresser, preparing to push into an upright position. In a quick, fluid motion, Kevin had the paddle in his hand, the bedroom door shut, and stood next to her, blocking her path.

“Your eyes went to this paddle a half dozen times.” He ran his hand along the smooth, beveled edge. “I don’t know anything about Cheri’s toys, but I do know wood. This nice, cherry paddle wasn’t mass-produced. Where’d you get it?”

“A show in Charlotte.”

His eyes narrowed and his mouth worked while he chewed the inside of his cheek. He stepped closer and pressed his body against her side. “You enjoy being spanked?”

She turned her head to hide her face and shrugged. “I don’t know.”

“Look at me.”

His voice was sharp and commanding, and he said nothing else while waiting for her to follow his directive. She looked back to him, but his dark eyes seemed to bore straight into her soul and she couldn’t maintain eye contact.

“What do you mean you don’t know?

Jesus, would the horror never end? He’d found her stash, identified her favorite toy, and figured out the paddle didn’t come from Cheri’s, which meant she’d gone out of her way to buy that specific implement—which would make him believe she enjoyed being spanked. But the truth was she didn’t know. She’d never been spanked by anyone but herself.

Could one get any more pathetic?

Refusing to bare her soul any further, she pushed off the dresser and away from him.

Before she could open the door, his arm shot out and wrapped around the front of her waist, locking her in place to prevent an escape while supporting her weight so she didn’t put pressure on her foot. “Did your husband use these toys on you?’

Her harsh laugh was answer enough.

He titled his head and studied her closely. “Has anyone ever spanked you?”

When she didn’t answer, he gave her a quick, sharp swat with the paddle. It didn’t hurt, but shocked her, making her gasp and glare simultaneously. His tone was low and authoritative, a different person than the easy-going, playful man she spent the afternoon with.

“Answer me or you’ll get another.”

Well now, wasn’t this an interesting conundrum? If she didn’t answer, he’d spank her, which was exactly what she wanted. A win-win-win.

The corner of his mouth notched up. “That’s what I thought.”

“Oh, you’re a mind reader now?” Reflexes and a sense of preservation had her fighting, even though she didn’t really want to go anywhere. Her muscles contracted as her internal struggle persisted.

His chin dipped and he looked through the fringe of his lashes with soft, understanding eyes. “I have a friend who owns a kink club. I did some work for him and spent a fair amount of time at the club with him and his wife.” He lifted a shoulder casually. “I’ve picked up a few things over the years.”

He maneuvered his body behind hers, pressed his hands to the sides of her hips, and positioned her at the end of the dresser. Leaning over her back, he whispered in her ear, “Palms on the dresser, ass up and out. Let’s find out how much you enjoy this.”

Excitement and cold panic raced down her spine as excessive heat warnings went out to the rest of her body. Despite her embarrassment, fear, and trepidation, she did as he said. She didn’t know when she might have another chance like this, and she didn’t want to miss the opportunity.

Her slick palms slid on the dresser, so she drove them into the wood surface, anchoring herself in place. Bent over like this with her butt stuck out, the only thing missing was a plaid skirt and a half-unbuttoned white top and she’d be the perfect misbehaving schoolgirl. Instead, she wore cut-off shorts and a pink T-shirt. Standing barefoot, with her bad foot tucked up and under, she probably looked like a friggin’ flamingo.

Thoughts of feathered friends, pink or otherwise, fled when he stroked a hand down her back, over her butt, and down her thigh. Terror and euphoria simultaneously ripped through her system, creating a jumbled mass of nerves that had her locked arms shaking so badly she feared they might not continue to support her weight.

He brushed a piece of hair from her face and kissed her temple as he ran the paddle around her butt in a circle. “We’re just playing, Sam. Relax.”

She nodded, closed her eyes, and drew in a deep breath, using his unique scent to ground her. When the first blow landed, she jumped, then dropped her head back with a sigh. She might’ve whispered, “More,” but she wasn’t sure if she’d thought it or if her lips actually parted, allowing the word to slip out. Heat built with each blow as the paddle landed a second, third, and forth time. She sucked in through her teeth and bit her bottom lip to keep from crying out as the sting spread into a slow burn over her entire backside.

Another crack had her head falling forward and her body quaking so heavily she’d probably register on the Richter scale. And that was before he unsnapped and unzipped her shorts, then slid his hand along her stomach and into her bathing suit bottoms.

“Oh God. That feels so good” Her voice was barely above a whisper as she struggled to catch her breath and keep herself vertical. “I can’t keep standing.”

His hand continued its southern descent until his fingers skimmed over her clit and slid through the slick folds of her sex. “You can and you will.”

He pushed two fingers inside, pressed the heel of his hand against her pubic bone, and anchored the weight of her body against his forearm. “Shit, you’re so wet. I’d say we answered the question about whether or not you like to be spanked.”

Her sex clenched around his fingers as another stinging swat from the paddle combined with the pressure of his fingers inside and his palm against her clit, sending her to the edge of an exquisite release. “More. One more, please.”

“Look at me.”

When she did, he captured her mouth with his and nearly kissed the life out of her. His tongue drove into her mouth, and he obliged with not one, not two, but three quick strikes that sent her flying. He fed her breath when she gasped for air and swallowed her screams as the orgasm ripped through her.

He dropped the paddle and, true to his word, held her tightly with both arms until the waves subsided, not only making sure she didn’t fall, but fully supporting her weight so she didn’t have to do anything but feel good. When she began to settle, he slowly withdrew his fingers, sending out a few aftershocks and keeping her in a highly sensitized state.

When she was no longer gasping for air and could speak coherently, she said, “That was amazing.” She cut her eyes to the side and gave a wicked little grin. “More.”

K
evin flipped the blue and gray satin comforter back and carefully laid Sam on the bed. Standing upright, he pushed his hand through his hair and drew in a few ragged breaths, trying to gather his wits. The odds had been stacked against him from the beginning, but when he opened that fucking drawer, it was like having a vault blown wide open, nothing standing between him and all the riches in the world. All the checks and balances and logical thinking that were instilled in him over his lifetime were eviscerated, and there was nothing and no one to stop him from taking what he wanted.

Sam was a beautiful woman he was drawn to on so many levels. She was willing to go as far as he wanted, and she had a drawer full of toys to make the ride all the more thrilling.

His only hesitation came when her eyes fixated on the paddle. His blood ran lava hot, then ice cold… at least until he figured out her rationality behind the stash and determined whether she simply enjoyed variety and play with her sex, or if the implements were necessary to fulfill a dark, deep-seated compulsion.

He’d spent enough time with Lucas at the club, experimenting and playing with subs, to acknowledge bondage and discipline were activities he found highly erotic—especially the discipline.

Then he’d gotten involved with Lizbeth and all that changed. She didn’t want to “play” for fun. She needed her sex rough, almost combative. He’d been okay with the hard stuff in the beginning, but her constant need to push harder stopped being erotic and turned into a battle of wills. Who could push the hardest? Who would break first?

He’d played with the paddle and strap, watching Sam’s reaction, trying to figure out where she fell on the want versus need spectrum. He’d taken classes at the club to learn the proper techniques and worked with subs, learning to read their responses to best traverse their emotional landscape. The look on Sam’s face reminded him of a few of those subs. She wasn’t ashamed of her predilection, but feared being rejected because of it.

He’d surmised this was a desire to experiment, rather than a need, something she confirmed by admitting she’d never actually been spanked.

And hadn’t that revelation sent his junkyard dog to the end of his chain, snarling and growling until the links snapped and he was on the loose.

The more he stroked her ass with the paddle, the raspier her breath became and the harder her heart pumped. Her carotid artery beat so hard against the side of her neck, the damned thing looked like it was trying to escape.

What he found most interesting, though, was his physical response to her excitement. He’d enjoyed working with subs at the club, but never felt a soul-deep gratification like he experienced with Sam. It was as if an invisible cord linked them, him feeding from her pleasure, his existence dependent on him taking her higher and higher.

However, that euphoric moment was over, and a thick cloud of confusion and uncertainty gathered around her as he paced the room. His gaze dropped to the nightstand, and he paused mid-stride, hands planted on his hips, staring at his crumpled business card, trying to figure out how it got there.

She pulled one of the flannel-covered pillows to her chest and said, “Wade gave me your card, but it got bent in my pocket.”

Something about her defensiveness seemed off, but he didn’t have room in his overtaxed brain to figure out the problem. His priority right now was to get his head straightened out before he ruined this time with her.

Time and space and running laps weren’t going to change anything, and waiting two weeks to take their relationship to the next level was no longer an option.

He regretted things happening this way, but Sam already meant too much to him, and he refused to halt things now, which would be the same as turning away from her. Her insecurity sounded like an alarm, and he needed to silence it. Now.

He stretched out beside her, wrapped his palm around her jaw, and planted a slow, sensual kiss on her sweet, pink lips. “You’re so incredibly beautiful, you drive me crazy. I needed a second to get myself under control. I’m sorry if I made you worry.”

Before she had time to respond, he kissed her again. Only this time, he kissed her like the continuation of the human race depended on her understanding how badly he wanted her. He stroked her mouth and cajoled simmering responses from her, while her tongue danced and collided with his. He took his time simultaneously fucking and making love to her mouth, giving her a glimpse of what the rest of the night would bring.

She skimmed her trembling hands across his lower back, then pushed his shirt up and over his head. Sliding her hands around to his chest, she pressed against the front of his shoulders, pushing him backward. “I want you completely naked.”

Happy to let her be in control for a while, he rolled onto his back and let her do things her way. With swift efficiency, she freed the button and zipper on his pants. Seconds later, his pants and boxer briefs joined his shirt on the floor, leaving him bare-ass naked and fully erect.