Savior (An Impossible Novel) (12 page)

I was relieved to find that Greg wasn’t in the apartment when I got home.

Good. 
If I could just release my pent-up sexual frustration on my own, then I would eliminate the strong pull to see Clayton.  I quickly composed a text before I could change my mind.

I can’t see you tonight.  I’m sick.  Sorry.

I set the phone down beside me as I laid back on my bed, choosing to ignore the chime that signaled Clayton’s answering text.  Instead, I pulled my dress up over my hips and slid my panties down to my knees before reaching under my mattress to retrieve my vibrator.  It buzzed to life, and I touched it to my aching clit, moaning at the merciful contact.  I tried to focus solely on the pleasurable sensation, but thoughts of Clayton kept flitting across my mind: his strong arms holding me down;
“Stay”
; the threatening whisper of his belt as he slowly removed it…

“You are practically begging me to punish you.”

I bit my lip as a shuddering groan escaped me.  After less than two minutes, I was soaking wet and close to coming.

“Rose.”  I jumped as the sharp knock on my door jerked me out of my fantasy.  I immediately switched off my vibrator and held my breath.

Oh, no.  Go away.  Please go away.

He knocked again.  “I know you’re in there, Rose.  Open up.”

Shit shit shit!

There was nothing for it: I would have to let him in.

My hands were trembling as I unlocked the door.  I almost shut it in his face when I saw his stern expression.  But he pushed his way in, invading my personal space.  He gripped my jaw firmly and studied my face.

“You seem pretty healthy to me,” he said in that cool, intimida
ting tone.  “I didn’t think you looked sick, but I decided to come and check more closely.”

Crap. 
How could I forget he was watching me?  I swallowed hard.

“And if you’re well enough to masturbate, then you’re well enough to come to dinner with me.”

My stomach dropped to the floor.  “I wasn’t -”

My protest turned to a shocked squeal as his arm abruptly closed around my waist, holding me in place as his other hand delved under my skirt to brush against my labia.  His icy gaze speared me to my core as his fingers swirled in the wetness there.  Then he raised them to his lips and slowly licked them clean.  I couldn’t hold back a strangled whimper at the sight of the lust that flared in his eyes as he tasted me.

“The walls are paper thin, Rose,” he informed me, his voice rougher now.  “Did you really think I couldn’t hear you?”

“Clayton…”  His name was a defeated moan as I arched up into him.  God, I had never wanted anything as intensely as I craved his touch.

He pulled away from me, depriving me of the heat of his body.  Our only physical contact now was his firm grip on my upper arm.  Without a word, he turned to leave the apartment, pulling me along in his wake.  I tried to resist, jerking against his hold.

“Wait,” I practically panted.  “Let’s just stay here.”

The look he gave me as he continued his steady progress told me I deserved my suffering.  “You brought this upon yourself, Rose,” he informed me.  “Our bargain was that you would come to dinner with me and I would ravage you afterward.  I haven’t gotten any release since last night, and I’ll be damned if you will.”

I glared up at him.  “Bastard,” I spat.

“I believe that’s four now,” he responded calmly.

Shit.  I had forgotten about his tally. 
Four what? 
I wondered as erotic excitement flooded me.  It was only made sweeter by the little zing of fear that made my skin pebble.  Clayton had promised me punishment.  What did he have planned for me?

Despite my torment, I was suddenly very glad that Clayton had forced his way into my apartment.

Give him your body, not your heart,
I reminded myself.  I could do that.  I had to.  Otherwise I was going to spontaneously combust.

My discomfiture at the insistent throbbing between my legs made me cross and uncross my legs half a dozen times as Clayton drove towards the Lower East Side.  I was relieved that we would be dining somewhere close to his apartment; we could get to his bedroom quickly
after we ate.  I half-hoped he would just take me to McDonald’s so we could get in and out and on to the good stuff.  Plus, that would minimize the opportunity for conversation, thereby making my new resolution easier to keep.

But I had no such luck.  Clayton had made a reservation for us at a family-owned authentic Italian restaurant.  The entire place smelled heavenl
y, and I suddenly realized I was ravenous.  This would be a welcome departure from my usual diet of granola bars and ramen.  Still, I was hungrier for Clayton than I was for ravioli.

“So,” he began casually once we had been seated, “why did you lie to me?”  The affable, sweet persona which seemed to be Clayton’s default – when he wasn’t being a no-bull FBI agent or a thoroughly intimidating Dom – was back.

I shifted uneasily in my chair.  His demeanor might be easygoing, but already he was cutting straight to the core of me, trying to further expose my secrets.  I couldn’t allow that; no way could I admit to him that the way he made me feel scared me.  If I told him that, he would just try to fix it.  But that would only make everything that much worse for me.

“Well,” I wracked my brain for a believable story.  “After Greg saw us toget
her this morning, I thought maybe being with me would cause problems for you at work.  You said it’s happened before, right?  I figured it would be easier to nip it in the bud.”

Clayton looked at me seriously.  “I appreciate your concern, Rose, but I would rather you just asked me about it instead of shutting me out without consulting me.  You were the one who pointed out that we got together before I was assigned to your case.  Sure, it’s a bit of a grey
area, but Sharon and Smith – the other agents who are watching over you and Greg – aren’t going to go tattling on me.  So unless you were to make a complaint, then the department will look the other way.  Besides, what happened before didn’t get me in trouble with the FBI; I just caused my own personal shitstorm with that one.”

The way
his eyes clouded over with an echo of remembered pain made jealousy twist my gut.  But the look was fleeting.  He blinked hard, and his gaze focused on me once again.  “Things are fine now, though,” he assured me with a small smile.  “Claudia and I actually ended up becoming really good friends.”

I wasn’t quite successful in concealing my discontent.  He was still in touch with her?

He reached across the table and captured my hand in his.  “Hey,” he said gently.  “That’s all in the past.  A certain gorgeous damsel in distress now has my full attention.”

“So you fancy yourself as some sort of white knight then, huh?”  I asked cuttingly.  “That’s rather big-headed of you, don’t you think?  Besides, you’re far too unchivalrous to be a white knight.”

His overly dramatic look of hurt was comical.  I obviously hadn’t succeeded in getting under his skin.  “Ouch.  You sure know how to knock a guy down a few pegs.”

“What can I say?
Your ego was getting out of control.  I’ve clearly created a monster.”  My tone was teasing now, and I could feel a smile playing around my lips.  He was far too charming for my own good, and I couldn’t deny that his levity was catching.

Clayton laughed easily.  “I can’t argue with that.  To be completel
y honest, it’s a side of me I’m not all that familiar with.  It’s probably good if you keep it in check from time to time.”  His smile turned slightly predatory.  “But unfortunately for you, I know you like the monster.”

“Now that’s something
I
can’t argue with,” I admitted.

“I know,” he said, sounding far too smug.

I rolled my eyes at him.  “There you go getting cocky again already.”

“Terribly sorry.
  I’ll try harder to be good.”  But his flashing eyes held no apology, only amusement.  It made my pussy clench.

“Please don’t,” I said drily.  “I wouldn’t want to put you through such strain.”

He shrugged agreeably.  “Okay.  If you insist.”

He was so implacable.  It was infuriating.  Nothing seemed to rile him; he calmly refused to allow me to manipulate him.  I was again struck by my inability to control the situation
whenever I was near him.  It was what made him so damn sexy, but it was also what made him scary as hell.

Even when he did get angry, he was still carefully controlled.
I thought of the cool tone he used when threatening Greg and those asshole college boys.  His calm assurance of his own power was far more terrifying than the aggressive attitude of the beefcake bad boys I usually went for.  The only times his tight rein on his anger had slipped were the times I had pissed him off by doing something stupid and reckless.  And when he turned that intensity on me, I wanted to be better than what I was.

Damn it.
  This was precisely why I had tried to back out on dinner.  He was too intriguing for my own good.  I had been getting along just fine before I had met him.  Okay, so maybe I hadn’t been perfectly happy, and maybe my rash behavior was self-destructive, but it worked for me.  Clayton was trying to save me, to make me better.  But I didn’t know how to be better, and I was fairly certain that the precarious existence I had fashioned for myself would crumble if I tried.  My wild little adventures helped relieve the pressure of my problems.   If I gave them up, I feared I would be crushed under the weight.

But I knew
Clayton’s body could provide the release I sought.  Unfortunately, he might rip me apart emotionally.  I had always enjoyed playing with fire; the threat of getting burned was what made my adventures all the more thrilling, more all-consuming.  Trusting myself to be around Clayton and not get emotionally involved was going to be the most dangerous thing I had ever done.  I found the prospect too enticing to resist.  Especially when he was looking at me like he was right now, his lips twisted up in a knowing smirk and his eyes flashing.

Throwing caution to the wind, I smiled at him slyly.  “So you’ve been doing some research, huh?”  I asked, deciding it was best to keep the conversation sexual.  “The internet can be a pretty disgusting place.  Should I be worried about what’s piqued your interest?  Be
cause there are some things I am most definitely not up for.”

Clayton just nodded sagely.  “We can discuss hard limits if yo
u’d like, but I don’t think anything I have in mind will be out of your comfort zone.  And I haven’t been diving into the seedy underbelly of the internet.  I have a friend who has been trying to talk to me about BDSM for years.  He was only too happy to share when I asked him about it.”

Hard limits?
  BDSM? 
The man had done his homework.  Apparently this friend of his was pretty knowledgeable.

“If he’s been talking to you about it for years, then why are you just now exploring it?”  I asked, genuinely curious.  “You’ve taken to it awfully quickly for someone who’s never been all that interested.”

Clayton’s expression turned thoughtful.  “I did experiment a little with my college girlfriend.  We dated for almost two years, and you start to try out different things to spice things up after that length of time.  But I suppose…”  He hesitated, and I saw that flash of pain in his eyes again.  “I haven’t been that serious with anyone since then.  And it takes a certain level of trust to venture into kinky territory.”

I found it hard to believe that Clayton hadn’t had any serious relationships in, what, eight years or so?  He was sweet, successful, and gorgeous.  Women should have been tripping over themselves to ensnare him.  I wondered what had happened with his girlfriend to scar him so deeply that he had been alone for so long.  Was he still in love with her or something?  The thought made me cold.

“You got pretty damn kinky with me, and you didn’t even know me,” I pointed out.

He cocked his
head at me.  “I could tell it was what you wanted.  You’re a force of nature, Rose.  You have a wild streak, but that wildness will tear you apart if it’s not contained, controlled.  I told you: I have a thing for damsels in distress.  If taming that side of you is what I need to do in order to help you, then that’s what I’ll do.  That’s what I want.  And I know it’s what you want.”

The truth of his earnest words made my breath catch in my throat.  How could he see me so clearly?

“Besides,” he added with an impish smile, “the night I met you was the hottest night of my life.  Helping you isn’t my only motive here; I want more of that.”

“I don’t think I like being co
nsidered a ‘damsel in distress,’ but if that’s the outcome, I guess I don’t mind so much,” I said breathily.

Clayton flashed me a pleased smile.  “So long as we’re on the same page, I think we can overlook differing semantics.”

I returned his grin.  “I can get on board with that.”

Having come to that erotic agreement, dinner passed by in a haze.  I’m sure the food was delicious, but I barely registered the flavors.  I was hungry for something else.  Our conversation was pleasant, but I wasn’t really engaged in what was being said.  I mostly allowed Clayton to talk while I made noises of agreement and occasionally prompted him to continue carrying the conversation.  He tried to ask me a few personal questions, but I deflected him with practiced ease.  When I did so, he frowned slightly, but I was relieved when he didn’t push me.