Knots (27 page)

Mark’s KitchenAid mixer was entirely too spotless, so she dirtied it up by measuring the whole wheat flower and dumping it in, followed by baking powder, eggs and the few other ingredients she needed to make the brownies from scratch.

Thank goodness he had cocoa powder.

Just so it wasn’t completely healthy, she dumped in a few chocolate chips she’d placed in the grocery cart when they’d gone shopping.

Once she had the brownies baking, she decided it was time she got over herself.

The poor man made her breakfast, worked a full day, worked out at the gym in his office building at lunch five days a week, and then came home to make
her
dinner when she’d been lounging around all day.

What kind of girlfriend was she to allow this? She was sickened by herself.

If it wasn’t a Thursday and they hadn’t already planned to go out dancing tonight with Marly, she would’ve gone ahead and made dinner tonight if only to gain some self-respect back. She really needed to tell him it was no longer a temporary hard limit for her. It was time . . .

Jeanie found herself in his bathrooms, cleaning them top to bottom, then putting the clean towels she’d washed and dried back in their place.

It still didn’t seem enough.

What did men like?

Mark liked sex—all the time.

She loved that, too, but what else could she do for him?

The timer beeped, so she took the brownies out of the oven. It smelled like heaven, and she’d most certainly be in a chocolate delirium tonight after dancing.

She sighed.

What now? Her mind went back to that question of what else she could do to please him without him having to spell it out.

Maybe stop looking like a recovering bag-lady?

Jeanie re-showered after getting sweaty and grimy from all that cleaning. She got out her supplies she hadn’t really used that much since she’d been here and curled her hair, then applied some makeup.

Her next step was to pick out her best booty-grabbing jeans.

They made her ass look really nice, and they hugged her thighs in a way that made it look she was actually toned and didn’t have cottage cheese flab.

Next, she found a black tank top and put a stretchy tee over it. She put on some jewelry, a rare occurrence for her, and remembered him mentioning her wearing her black stilettos to church.

Might as well pull double duty for them. She needed to get them dirty before cleaning them, right?

She put them on, studied her reflection and was actually pretty happy with what she saw. Not too bad.

Maybe Mark would be happy with it, too.

Time to quit smelling like nothing but soap and laundry detergent. She put on a dab of perfume. Not too much—she never liked it when women doused themselves in too much. Hers was a subtle floral scent with a hint of fruitiness.

She slipped the shoes back off, went back to work and tried not to dwell on how slowly the time was going.

Too bad he couldn’t work from home as well.

He said it wasn’t really a possibility right now since he was meeting with a lot of clients in his office, and his home didn’t have a great way to do that, according to him.

She really didn’t know why that was the case. He had a gorgeous home, but being an agent for musicians meant they expected a certain standard to be met.

She wasn’t sure exactly what that meant.

Sounded like his clientele were snobs.

Bzzz . . . Bzzz . . .

Another text, and another smile from her.

When this day ends, if it ever does, I’m going to show you how much you mean to me. I love you, sweet little thing, and don’t you ever forget it.

* * *

Mark entered the house in a flurry, rushing straight into his room, ignoring her completely.

Her brow slanted into a deep V.

“Well, hello to you, too,” she said to herself from the kitchen.

It was
clichéd
, but she was preparing him a drink before they left to go to the new club Marly had picked out.

Last time, he was strung out from going dancing with her and Marly, until things calmed down when they got home. She hoped maybe this would help him relax beforehand.

What was wrong with him? Why did he fly through the place like he had to put out a fire?

She took a sip of the drink and shook her head. Doms. They made no sense sometimes. She took another sip. It tasted great to her. If he joined her, maybe he’d like it, too.

She set it aside, leaned against the counter and wondered once more what the hell was going on.

Several minutes later when he failed to reemerge, she knocked on the door. “Mark? Everything okay?”

She listened at the door. There was a rustling noise like he was gift wrapping something.

“Mark? Don’t we have to leave in the next fifteen minutes? I made you a cocktail real quick. I thought we could—”

The door was flung open, and his eyes blazed at her as he took her into his arms, pinned her up against the door frame.

He tucked her hands behind her and held both her wrists in place with one hand as he fondled her right breast with his left hand.

“God, you smell good. Missed you today,” he breathed, then slid his lips down to her neck. He was inhaling at her pulse point like he was getting high off it. “Turn around.”

“But we . . . Don’t we have to leave soon?”

“I said, turn the fuck around. Now,” he said through his teeth.

He released her wrists, and she turned around.

His hands undid the button on her jeans, he unzipped and shimmied her tight jeans down her thighs.

“Oh, God, a thong. You’re trying to torture me, aren’t you? I’ll know it’s slipping inside your crack while I’m dancing with you, getting slick from your arousal. How am I supposed to be polite to Marly when I know this is going on, and all I’ll be able to think about is getting rid of her so I can get you alone?” He yanked her by the hips, creating some distance between her and the door frame.

“Hang on—this won’t be gentle. Next time, I’ll slow down enough to appreciate all of you.” In the next breath, he dropped down, had his tongue on her pussy and his fingers were inside her, then alternating with her clit.

She gripped the edges of the frame and wobbled in her heels as she tried to stay steady.

Snap! Ziiiiiiip.

His pants were undone, pushed down to his thighs like hers, and he stood, lining himself with her entrance.

“You’re entirely too clean—time to dirty you up before I take you out. I want you smelling like my come, so when you’re dancing, all the dicks around smell me and know you’re taken.” He pushed her hair aside, bit her neck and whispered a menacing, “Mine!
My
Jeanie.
My
pussy to fuck and control.
My
tits to grip while I ride you.” His hands went to her breasts and groped her as he rammed his cock inside her, taking her breath away.

Her head almost hit the wall, but she managed to angle her head to the side and miss it.

She could barely breathe as he bit, dug his fingers in and even fisted her hair at the roots.

For some reason, she didn’t care he was messing up her hair and acting violent.

He was so savage in his brutal intensity all she could do was mew his name over and over, along with a few cries for God.

“That’s it—come on my cock like a sweet little girl. Make me smell like you, too. The same goes for me. All those women will smell you all over me.” He pulled out and ran his entire inner hand across her wet vulva.

She craned her head over her shoulder and watched with wide eyes and her breath trapped in her throat as he licked his palm, then smeared her juices over his Adam’s apple. His eyes were on fire and devouring her.

“Oh Christ!” She choked back a sob of pleasure at the sight of him so undone.

What had he done today to put him in this state?

“Tell me you missed me,” he said, gripping her behind the neck. His moist hand was on her skin, marking her with both of their scent there now, too. “Tell me you were dying to have me inside you again. Once in the shower—a quick morning fuck isn’t enough.”

“It’s never enough, Mark.”

“God, please, call me Sir. I need to hear it.”

“Sir . . . I missed you more than you’ll ever know. I was stir-crazy without you,” she said.

He was back inside her, pummeling her insides hard, groaning like a feral animal behind her.

With one hand on the back of her neck, the other reaching over and rubbing her clit, she came, her knees buckling on her.

His hand was off her clit, wrapped around her waist, supporting her dead weight as he kept pounding into her.

“Mine! All mine! I’ll fuck you whenever I damn well please, including in that club tonight, and you’ll let me. I’ll figure out a way to have what’s mine so you’re not worried about Marly. Say you’ll trust me.”

“I do.” She inhaled in a rush as he pushed himself in harder—yet, pushing her off balance again. “Sir,” she tacked on.

“Jesus—love the sound of that—love the feel of how creamy my cock is now with your come, but it’s not enough. I don’t wanna stop. I don’t give a shit if we have somewhere to be. Just wanna be inside you, feel how tight you are even after you’ve already come.”

Her nails scraped into the wall for a moment when his thrusts went from a methodical rhythm to erratic and more desperate.

“Can’t stop. Jeanie—tell me to stop or we’ll never leave. I want to eat you, taste you while you come on my tongue and drench my lips with your flavor.”

“You can do whatever you like, Sir. But I do hope you’ll at least drink the cocktail I made you before we go.”

For some reason, he grunted through a forced-sounding moan and then he was on his toes, shoving his cock in as far as it could go. He pulled out and let his cream spurt all over her lower back. His fingers rubbed it into her skin as his orgasm faded.

A drink? Really?

That was all it took? For her to remind him she’d done something for him?

Shit—what would he do when she actually
did
start cooking?

He dragged her top half up to standing. His left arm stayed around her waist and his right wound over the tops of her breasts, slanted at an angle so his right hand was right under her armpit. She was caged up against him.

“Fuck, I can’t get enough of you, and buying you that shit today got me all worked up. I can’t wait until we’re done tonight and I get you back here—home with me. I’ve got something special planned for you. So, no wearing yourself out tonight dancing. You save some of your energy for me. You’re gonna need it.” He kissed her ear through her hair, let go of her and smacked her tush.

“Oh no.” She sniffed herself.

“What?”

“I smell like sex. We’re gonna see Pono’s parents when we pick up Marly and afterward.” She turned to look at him, expecting to find a guilty expression.

Instead, he was smirking and putting his clothes back together like he’d planned this.

“Did you do this on purpose?”

“As my submissive, you don’t have the right to ask questions like that, but since you’re new at this, I’ll say I only ever do what’s for your own good.”

She hobbled to the bathroom, yanked down his clean towel she’d washed and dried for him today and wiped her sopping vulva off on it. It would serve the asshole right for doing this to her. He wanted to smell like pussy tonight? Well, now he’d smell like pussy every damn day when he was at work—the fucker.

She pulled her thong back up, though it was already disgusting with how wet and cold it was. Ugh! How was she supposed to dance like this and not chafe?

Though they had little time, she pulled off her shoes, jeans and thong, then grabbed a pair of sensible white cotton panties and put them on. Let him be pissed when he put his hands down her jeans later and found something unappealing.

She slipped her jeans back on and her heels.

When she left his bathroom, he was in the kitchen, finishing off the drink she’d made him.

The bastard was smiling, and for some reason, her heart melted at the sight of him.

She shifted and looked away.

Right now she wanted to be angry at him for setting her up for failure with Pono’s family.

No way the Finaus wouldn’t notice they both reeked of sex.

Shit.

She walked back into his room and took a few deep breaths to keep under control.

No tears. No way.

“Time to go,” he called out.

She took one last mind-cleansing breath and marched back out to him.

He took her hand, kissed the back of it, then grinned as he walked her out to the car.

“At least you have the peace of mind that Marly won’t realize what she smells,” he observed.

“Hardly comforting,” she said, fighting off the urge to call him a dickhead.