Restrained and Willing (3 page)

“Ditto.” Quinn scrunched his nose and then scraped a hand
over his shaved head. “We’re not hypocrites when it comes to individual sexual
choices, but she is our baby sister and we’d rather not see—”

“Point taken.” Pierce was flooded with relief and endless
appreciation for the levelheadedness and understanding of the two men who were
more brothers to him than friends. “One more thing.”

Justin groaned. “What? You’re going to forbid her to come to
Pop’s for Thanksgiving this year?”

Pierce rolled his eyes. “And miss his famous brined turkey
and that awesome stuffing? Not on your life. I’m just giving you two bozos
notice that I’m taking the next two weeks off.”

“Well, hell.” Quinn frowned. “Then grab yourself some coffee
and come look at these prints. If ten more hours is all we get you for, we’re
going to make sure we get our money’s worth out of your lazy ass.”

“You’re such an asshole.” Happy to be back on familiar
ground, Pierce walked over to the coffee station, grabbed up his big red mug
and filled it to the brim.

They might have his
ass
for ten more hours, but his
mind would be across town in a downtown loft, consumed by the woman who lived
there and the things he planned to do to her.

Heather spent the week stocking up on groceries and
re-familiarizing herself with her hometown. In general, keeping busy enough to
keep her mind off the fact she hadn’t heard a peep out of Pierce. Pop and her
brothers had been in constant contact. But not as much as a measly
How ya
doing, brat?
from the person she most wanted to hear from.

Was she deluding herself? Maybe he wasn’t interested. Had he
even read her fantasies?

Ugh!

She trudged up the stairs and let herself into her condo.
Dropped her keys and purse on the narrow maple side table.

What she needed was a healthy dose of patience. A virtue
she’d never quite gotten the hang of.

She braced her hand on the wall and toed off her shoes,
leaving them on the small rectangular rug in front of the door before making
her way to the kitchen.

She crinkled her nose at the nagging sense of insecurity
she’d been fending off. A previously foreign concept since she hadn’t lacked
confidence even when on her own, miles away from home, her first year at Yale.

At least she hadn’t spent the past week sitting at home,
twiddling her thumbs. She’d been out and about, making contacts, evaluating the
Cleveland area for the possibility of starting her own marketing company.
Between very lucrative investments and an impressive portfolio after an
accelerated master’s program, she could well afford to put off looking for a
job for quite a while if her plan of becoming an entrepreneur wasn’t a viable
option.

A quick maneuver around the long kitchen counter placed her
in front of the fridge where she grabbed a bottle of green tea, discarded the
cap and took a deep drink.

On Wednesday she’d gone shopping for a new wardrobe. A
friendly chat with a young woman behind the counter of an adult toy shop had
netted the name of an upscale boutique on the near Eastside. The mention of the
woman’s name to the saleslady there had gained her entrance to its private back
room. The large, awe-inspiring space was filled with clothes and accessories
one would never find at the local malls.

Heather had spent a small fortune there.

The thought of Pierce’s reaction when he saw what she’d
bought made every penny spent worthwhile.

That is, if he ever actually did see it.

Or her newly waxed pussy.

Today was Friday and in anticipation of being with Pierce,
she’d booked herself for a half-day at the spa for a much-needed manicure,
pedicure, hot stone massage and waxing in the hopes he’d call.

She expelled a long sigh. Took another refreshing swallow of
iced tea.

Ah, well. Maybe he needed a bit more time to—

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the red light blinking
on her answering machine. As tech-savvy as she was, she liked the old-fashioned
dependability of a landline.

She placed the half-empty bottle of tea on the granite
counter and pressed the button to access the call.

“Heather, this is Pierce.”

During a prolonged pause, a breath hitched in her throat.

“I’ve read your diary.”

She inhaled, taking pity on her starved lungs.

“I’ll be picking you up at eight o’clock for dinner. Be on
time.”

The command in his voice made her heart race.

“Since most women own a little black dress, I’ll assume you
have one. Wear it.”

She captured her lower lip between her teeth.

“Nothing else.”

Her knees threatened to buckle, even as her panties became
damp.

“You’re intelligent enough to know what I expect. If it’s
more than you’re willing to give, keep the condo dark. I’ll leave and we’ll go
on as before.”

The message ended with a soft bleep.

Go on as before! The man was delusional if he thought that
to be true.

She’d waited far too long to get a taste of those full
sensual lips. Run her hands over those acre-wide shoulders and all those
beautiful bulging muscles covering his sexy body. To experience firsthand the
feel of that huge luscious cock sliding deep inside her, stretching her,
satisfying her the way he did those two women in the video she’d pilfered years
ago.

Heather glanced at the clock.

Six hours.

Plenty of time.

A silly grin took up residence on her face.

* * * * *

Pierce pulled his midnight-blue Mercedes up to the curb in
front of Heather’s condo and shut down the engine. Any lingering doubts about
her wanting to be with him were obliterated by the gleam of lights blazing
through every window facing the street. With a few added candles to boot.

He gave his diamond-studded watch a cursory check.
Right
on time.

Unable to suppress a grin, he reached across to the
passenger seat and scooped up the two-dozen fiery-red roses whose potent aroma
had been competing with the smell of new-car interior for the last half-hour.

Once out of the vehicle he took a deep breath of cool fresh
air and made his way to her front door.

“It’s Pierce, sweetheart. Let me in,” he said when she
answered the intercom buzzer. There was a wealth of meaning behind that
request. He wanted in her apartment, in her arms, in her mind, and his dick
buried deep inside her lithe body.

She waited at the top of the stairs. The short black dress
that slashed across the top of her tanned trim thighs jump-started his lust.

If they’d had an established relationship, he would’ve
walked up to her, drove his tongue between her lush red lips and his fingers
deep inside her warm, dewy pussy.

“You look gorgeous.” He stopped two steps below her, putting
them at eye level.

“Thank you.”

Pierce hid a smile at the hint of a quaver in her voice. His
little tomboy harbored a bit of insecurity. A reminder that he needed to put a
temporary harness on his escalating desire. Slow things down a bit. At least
for tonight.

“Let’s go in. Get these in water.” He handed her the
flowers.

“They’re beautiful.” She gathered the bouquet into her arms
as she moved aside to let him enter, closing the door behind him. She brought
the flowers up to her face. “Mmmm. They smell wonderful.”

“Glad you like them.” He moved in close, bent his head to
the crook of her neck. Drew a deep breath. “But they don’t compare to how
wonderful you smell.” He stepped back, looked into her expressive face and
smiled. “Nervous?”

After the slightest hesitation, she shook her head. “No.”

He raised a brow.

“Yes. A little.” She lowered her lashes.

He drew her chin up with light pressure from his fingertips.
Met her gaze. She had the most beautiful brown eyes. Deep, glossy pools
replicating the world’s richest chocolate, they revealed so much of what she
was feeling. If one were experienced enough to know what to look for. Like he
did. “It’s okay. I expect you to be a little nervous. We’ll take it slow.”

“But I don’t want you to tak—”

He placed a finger over her lips. “Shhh.” Tapped. “First
thing you need to learn is it’s not up to you. You gave up that right when you
unlocked the door.” He canted his head in the general direction of the gaping
doorway. “Now it’s my turn to unlock a few doors. Doors that will allow you to listen,
accept, obey without question. None of which can be taught in a single
evening.”

Pierce could see she wanted to say something by the slight
firming of her lips. To her credit she held back. He leaned in and kissed her.
When she sought a deeper union, he stepped back.

“I think before this goes any farther we need to get
something straight between us. You’ve known me for a very long time. I’ve made
no secret of how I feel about commitment. I’m not looking for—”

This time it was she who put a finger over his lips. “I
know. You’re commitment phobic.” She gave him an eye roll and small smile. “You
don’t have to explain it to me. As you said, I do know you well.”

Pierce looked into her candid, shimmering brown eyes. He
hadn’t expected to be let off the hook quite that easily. He mentally reviewed
what she’d said. She’d pretty much covered all the important bases. But he
couldn’t help but feel… Ahhh, hell, what was he thinking? This was Heather.
True, his brat could be manipulative, but he doubted she was being anything but
honest in this situation. No other female knew his hang-ups better than she
did.

He cupped her cheeks with his hands for a quick kiss.

“Okay, then it’s off to the kitchen, before those wilt in
your arms.” He turned her gently, placed his hand on her back and felt the
slight stiffness as he guided her to the other room.

He grinned, safe in the knowledge she couldn’t see it. He’d
give her an
E
for effort. She was independent, strong-willed. Not used
to deferring to anyone. It didn’t matter what she fantasized about. It was the
light playful tone of her writing that gave him pause. The main reason he’d
deliberated so long before calling her.

No, you couldn’t teach a woman all about domination and
discipline in a single night. But a single night was all a man with his
experience in mastering women would need to determine whether Heather was cut
out for the kind of lifestyle he indulged in. To conclude if she was serious or
merely operating under a misguided belief it was all a highly sensual game
played out between two adventuresome lovers.

He needed to make damn sure she knew exactly what she was
getting into, because it wasn’t a game for Pierce even though he wasn’t a 24/7
Dominant. But during the time he spent with subs, or potential subs, he expected
them to place their pleasure and trust completely into his skilled hands.

Another thing he took seriously was taking care of the woman
who belonged to him. No matter how temporary. A character trait that was built
into a good Dom’s nature.

Halfway into the kitchen, he stopped her with a gentle hand
on her shoulder.

“Where do you keep the vase?” he asked at her inquiring
look. There was no doubt she’d have one. A woman as beautiful and caring as her
would have received her fair share of flowers.

She pointed. “In that cabinet. Top shelf. The stool— Never
mind,” she finished with a twitch of her lips when he walked over, reached up
and withdrew it.

“Scissors?” he asked, moving to the sink.

“The drawer to your right. But I can do it.”

He looked at her over his shoulder as he filled the vase. “I
know you can, but it pleases me to do it for you. It’s only fair I reciprocate.
Especially since you’ll be doing so very much for me.”

She caught her bottom lip between her teeth.

An adorable habit. And a very telling sign. He’d rarely seen
Heather this unsure. She usually plowed through life with the ferocity of a
category F5 tornado. He kinda liked that he had this effect on her. It wasn’t a
side of her personality she was prone to revealing. Raised by three don’t-fuck-with-us-or-ours
jocks, she needed to be tough.

“I’ll take those now.”

She freed the flowers from the thick red ribbon binding
them, set it aside and handed them over.

Giving each stem a slanted cut, Pierce placed them into the
water. He didn’t bother turning around to say, “Raise your dress above your
waist, sweetheart.”

Heather stared at Pierce’s broad back, the breath in her
lungs stalled. No one had to hit her over the head with a club for her to
realize this was a test. Inevitably, one of many.

She’d wanted Pierce since her budding hormones had
blossomed. He’d treated her with the deference one reserved for a kid sister.
Totally oblivious to the fact she was becoming a woman. Not even when she’d
started wearing the shortest skirts and tightest tops she could find in an
effort to snag his attention. Granted there’d been a few roadblocks, longtime
family friendships and the seven-year spread in their ages. But the gap in
those years had narrowed as she’d grown older. Funny how that worked.

She had fantasized about this for years. Dreaming. Hoping.
Lying in bed at night with her busy fingers between her spread thighs,
imagining the fingers were his. But was she ready to turn all her fantasies
into reality?

Hell yes!

She lowered her hands, gathered the hem of her dress in her
fingers and inched it up her thighs until the stretchy fabric was crinkled at
her waist. She waited.

And waited.

And waited.

When would he turn around?

She shifted her weight from one foot to the other.

Spread her stance the slightest bit.

And still waited.

Exposure aside, her hairless pussy was experiencing the
cooling effects from the soft evening breeze flowing through the partially
opened bottom window over the sink.

“Pierce?”

“Yes?”

“I did as you asked.”

“That’s nice.” He remained facing the sink.

That’s it? Nice!

This wasn’t anything like the hundreds of fantasies she’d
envisioned, painstakingly written in her diary. Pierce was supposed to be
consumed by lust the minute he set eyes on her. Kiss her. Strip her. Maybe
spank her. Fuck her. So mad with desire, he was unable to keep his hands off
her.

He said he’d read her diary. Did he have a comprehension
issue? Maybe he was one of those speed readers who glossed over a lot. Too bad
she sucked at art; otherwise, she’d have drawn some graphic pictures. Could be
he was a visual guy. Like most men who professed to actually reading the
articles in
Playboy
and
Penthouse
. Yeah, right.

Patience!
Her silent reprimand was easier said than
done.

She heaved a low sigh, closed her eyes. There was nothing to
say she couldn’t make good use of her fantasies while she waited. No sense
letting the fire that had been building since his arrival die down completely.

“Ow!” Eyes flying wide, Heather jerked her hand up. Away
from her tingling mound.