FightingforControl (8 page)

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Authors: Ari Thatcher

BOOK: FightingforControl
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Unable to stop herself, she rummaged through the cupboards
and found her standby boxed mac-and-cheese, and when the pasta was tender,
added a handful of shredded cheddar, a can of tuna and some frozen peas to the
sauce.

Heaven.

She did refrain from eating out of the saucepan, dishing up
a bowl and saving the rest for another meal or two.

A chime from her phone signaled another text. This time
Marc’s name was displayed.
Feeling any better?

The processed cheese sauce high had just begun to hit, so
she answered honestly.
Yes.

That’s good. We might do a conference call this afternoon
to bounce some ideas around.

Okay. I’ll email you guys what I’ve come up with
, she
replied.

Good idea.

There was a pause long enough to make Lori think he’d gone
back to whatever he’d been doing. The words that came through a minute or two
later sent a flutter through her insides.
Put on your work clothes just
before two o’clock, so you’ll be dressed appropriately.

What the fuck? Dressed appropriately for what? Her work
clothes—suddenly his meaning dawned. She heard his voice describing how the
outfit she wore to Unfettered reminded her who she was inside the club. By
putting on her work clothes, she was putting on a mindset of graphic designer.
Everything else would be pushed from her thoughts.

In doing so, she’d force herself to focus. In doing so,
she’d acknowledge she was continuing the relationship with Marc, at least, as
her master.

Her hand trembled as she reached for the phone. She glanced
over her shoulder as if being caught writing personal email on company time,
but of course she was alone in her dining room. Her fingers flew over the
virtual keyboard on her phone.
Yes Master.

A moment’s hesitation, then she hit send.

Lori sucked in an audible breath, implications and
complications flooding her brain at what she’d done. At the same time, warmth
pooled between her thighs and giddiness sent ripples of laughter through the
rest of her being.

She glanced at the clock, calculating how long she had to
get ready. What would she wear? How much makeup?

The realization of how ridiculous she sounded made her slow
down to actually look at the jackets she pulled from the closet. A conference
call wasn’t a date. This one in particular was an important stepping-stone.
Proving she could separate her thoughts, shut down the sexy dreams taking over
her waking moments.

With that in mind, she quickly chose a gray pinstriped skirt
and pale-pink blouse and pulled them on over her boring cotton bra and panties,
just like any workday. She ran the brush through her hair and pulled it into a
clip. A little mascara and blush kept her from looking too washed out without
appearing desperate for attention.

Freshening her coffee, she sat down at her laptop in plenty
of time and opened the files she needed. A text message came through a few
minutes before the expected call. From Marc, of course.
Are you
appropriately dressed?

Lori sighed. Just once she’d love to get a “what are you
wearing?” call from a hot young guy like Brad or Marc. His wording made his
meaning clear. She typed her reply.
Yes.
She didn’t add Sir or Master
since her mindset was that of businesswoman.

Her phone rang and she answered it on speakerphone. “Hi,
gang. Are we all here?”

“Hi, Lori, this is Joanne. Everyone is ready on this side.
We’re discussing the Wilford account. Are you logged into the network?”

“I am,” Lori replied. She clicked her way through to the
Wilford folder and listened to the discussion, opening the image files as
needed. The voices of her coworkers filled the air around her as if she were in
the room with them.

The meeting was brief as most of the work had been done
already, and any changes needed were minor. In all, she felt as though she
probably wasn’t needed, but was glad no one else seemed to agree.

After disconnecting from the call, she stood and stretched.
Most of her panic about being able to function with her changed relationship
with Marc and Brad had left. Her head clearer, she mentally listed what she
needed to work on the rest of the afternoon. She would definitely be going into
the office on Tuesday and wanted to be current with her projects.

* * * * *

Lori’s phone rang shortly after five p.m. with Brad’s ID
displayed. She answered quickly, before it could go to voicemail. “Hey, Brad.
What’s up?”

“How are you feeling?”

“Better, thanks. I got a lot done this afternoon.”

“That’s good.” Beeps and dings sounding through the phone
told her he was getting in his car. “I’m bringing dinner over just to be sure
you’re taking care of yourself. Are you at home?”

Her jaw opened, but words failed. He was bringing over
dinner. No offer, no invitation, just announcing the fact. “Look, you don’t
need to do that—”

“Yes, I do. And I’m not going to talk about it on the phone.
We’ll talk when I get there.”

“Okay. We’ll talk. I’ll see you in a bit.”

Admitting to herself she was glad she’d showered and gotten
dressed rather than sat around in her pajamas, Lori went to the kitchen to see
what drinks she had to offer. She had no idea what food he was bringing, but
she always had wine in the house, and probably could dig up a beer or two in
the back of the fridge. Did beer have an expiration date?

Brad arrived so quickly she wondered if he’d been stalking
her at some point, but she realized he probably had GPS in the car, and they
had access to the department members’ addresses through work. When she opened
her door, his smile lit his entire face and Lori felt less irritated at his
commanding manner.

“Come in.” She stepped back so he could, and took the
offered reusable grocery sack as he passed.

“I bought some ready-to-eat chicken soup and fresh rolls
from the grocery store’s deli section.” Brad took off his jacket and draped it
over his arm. Lori reached for the jacket, hanging it on the hall tree as she
led him to the dining table.

“Sounds perfect.” She set out the soup and opened the paper
bag containing the rolls, then got bowls and utensils from the kitchen. “What
will you drink? Coffee? Iced tea? Wine or beer?”

“Wine is fine.”

When she had everything in place, she sat opposite Brad at
the table and offered him the ladle. While dying inside to ask why he had come,
she thought she’d wait him out and see what he said on his own.

He did, while they sat sipping wine after their meal. “I’m
guessing you were put off by my telling you I was coming over, rather than
asking if I could.”

She smiled. “You could say that.”

“Yet you let me come.”

Nodding, she waited, watching how his eyes studied her. He
wore a steel-blue shirt with a paler tie tugged loose at his neck. The shade
heightened his eye color perfectly and set off his tan. He must have handfuls
of young women chasing him at any given time. Why was he there with her?

“When was the last time a man planned your evening for you,
outside of our time at Unfettered?”

She had to think too long and too hard to find an answer. “I
don’t remember. I know no one has picked up dinner without my prodding first.”

“Did you enjoy the meal?”

“Of course. The food was good. It’s nice to be pampered
without making a big production about going to a fancy restaurant.”

Brad leaned his forearms on the table and his voice dropped
to a seductive volume. “You deserve to be pampered. Every night.” His gaze
locked with hers. His words stroked her nerves.

Realizing she had expected a confrontation, Lori let go of
the protective cloak she had apparently put up when he called. Neither Brad nor
Marc wanted to force her to do anything. They offered to control her
pleasure—dominate, not domineer. But there was so much more involved in
maintaining a relationship. She wasn’t good at the maintaining part. “It’s a
nice dream.”

He reached for her hand and stroked her fingers with a light
touch. “Why dream? You’re not dead. You have choices. Opportunities. We’re
offering you ourselves. That’s reality, not a dream.”


We.
There’s a red flag right there. If I choose one
of you and not the other, what does that do to our working together? You can’t
tell me it won’t be awkward.”

“We’re not suggesting you choose one. Choose us both. Choose
to experience more than you’ve allowed yourself.”

She shook her head. “I can’t see how it can work.”

“Just because it’s new. Why not let it happen without
forcing it to fit some preconceived notion?” He stood and pulled her to her
feet. Drawing her close, he stroked his hands down her back, looking at her
with trembling lips. His fingers sent velvety waves across her skin. “God, when
you are so close I want to kiss you, rip off your clothes and explore every
inch of you.”

The desperate need to know his body, taste the flesh hidden
by his clothing, overwhelmed her. Lori didn’t wait to see what he’d do. Rising
on her toes, she pressed her mouth to his, opening her lips and thrusting her
tongue deep into the welcoming warmth. The lightning bolt that shot through her
rocked her to the core. Her knees wobbled. She grasped his face in both hands,
and plunged deeper, moaning at the cravings awakening inside her.

His mouth was firm against hers, his tongue meeting hers
thrust for thrust. His sharp panting breaths rang loudly in the quiet. Lori
clutched at his tie, tugging it free and reaching for the buttons behind.
Suddenly, Brad grabbed her wrists and pulled away. “Wait. Not like this.”

She whimpered. “Yes, like this. Hot, naked sex on the dining
room table. Now!” Reaching for the zipper of her skirt, she looked up at him
and tried not to pout. “Please?”

He tossed his tie onto a chair. “We’re going to do this my
way.”

Chapter Seven

 

Brad paused in the middle of unbuttoning his shirt and
watched Lori cross her arms and exhale in a huff. Her eyes burned into his, her
voice tight. “Why does this always have to be a game played by your rules? Why
can’t we just have sex?”

He put his hands on his hips but didn’t step closer. “It’s
not a game. Far from it. And as I recall, you weren’t happy with ‘just sex’.
That’s why you were willing to give us a chance to show you another way to
enjoy each other.”

“But all the flogging and dressing appropriately and all
that, it takes so long. What if all we want is a quickie?”

Letting out a long, slow breath, he reminded himself they’d
only worked with Lori a few times. Learning the lifestyle was a long process.
She was going to try his patience many times over the course of her lessons,
assuming she allowed them to continue. Combing his fingers through his hair, he
mentally backed up a few steps as he closed the short distance between them.

“I wasn’t planning on making you change your clothes, nor
was I going to run home and grab a flogger or cuffs. I’m assuming you don’t
have either of those on hand?”

She flushed and looked away. “No.”

Picking up his tie, he draped it around the back of her
neck, grabbed each end and pulled her until their noses almost touched. “Well,
then, we might have to make do with what we have on hand. Ties make wonderful
bonds, as do stockings, scarves…”

Brad tilted his head and inhaled the sweet fragrance of the
wine on her breath that escaped between her parted lips. His tongue sought her
lips and he felt them tremble as he traced the fullness there. He pressed his
mouth to hers, wrapped his arms around her, slowly enjoying the feel of her
against him. She was so soft, so feminine, so much the opposite of the strong
bossy creature she became at the office.

“I like holding you like this.” He licked her jawline and
nipped her earlobe. Nuzzling where her skin met her hair, he breathed in the
scent of her shampoo and soap. No heavy perfumes masking her, just fresh and
clean fragrances.

Lori’s arms came up over his shoulders and her hands clasped
behind his neck. She tilted her head, giving him room to play, so he did.
Kissed the warm pulse spot, worked his way beneath her collar to lick and kiss
and nip her soft skin.

When he remembered her complaint about slow-moving sex, he
lifted his head and met her gaze. “You wanted quick and here I am taking the
scenic route.”

She laughed. “Did you hear me complaining? It’s nice to be
appreciated.”

“Yeah, but it’s a work night, and while it’s still early, I
can easily see spending hours and hours getting to know what your body likes.”

Her brows drew together. “I’m not a schoolkid, I can handle
a late-night now and again.” She pulled him closer and rose on her toes to kiss
him.

“I’m not stopping,” he said when he broke away for air. “I
was just going to speed things up a bit.”

“Good.” Lori worked the buttons of her blouse free with
shaky hands.

“Now, wait. This is where we went wrong the first time.”

Her growl made him laugh. She tugged at her hair, twisting
it behind her head then letting it fall. “Here we go again with the rules.”

“Do you trust me to make it good for you?”

She closed her eyes and sighed. “Yes.”

“Yes, what?”

“Yes Master.”

“Very good. Always remember I am Master of your body, and I
will see to your needs.”

Lori raised her chin and studied him, neither smiling nor
frowning. He wondered what she was thinking. He wasn’t pushing hard, didn’t
plan on bringing a long list of rules into what was supposed to be casual,
relaxed sex, but he wondered if he was being too lax.

“Trust me, Lori.”

She smiled, a thin, wavering expression, either giving in or
still holding some hesitancy. “I do.”

“Good. Now, take off my shirt.”

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