What She's Looking For (15 page)

He can’t be serious.

Ashley told herself that he’d find
something to cover her, save her from walking out into broad daylight sashaying
her wares for anyone to see. This could not be happening.

The steady drip from her pussy told
her it was indeed happening; part of her wasn’t horrified at this at all. Damn
it.

“Put these on.” He dropped a pair of
black heels at her feet.

Where the hell did those come
from?

They were a beautiful jet velvet
with silver edging at the open toes. She loved them, but there was a problem:
they had to be at least 4” heels. She was about as good at walking in high
heels as she was at peeing standing up.

“Parker, you can’t—”

He pressed a finger to her lips,
his dark eyebrows raised. “We need to teach you about that word.”

“What word?”

“Can’t, Ashley.” His mouth quirking
in a smile that failed to warm his cold, gray eyes. “You
will
do what we
tell you to do. No ‘can’t’, no ‘won’t’. Period.”

She glared at him. There he went
with the ‘we’ crap again. Did he mean who she thought he meant?

(Please God, Please God)

“You can’t tell me how to talk!”

His strong hand grasped her upper
arm, squeezing. “There you go with that word, again,” he said, his voice quiet
and calm once more. “I thought you’d do better than this.”

She’d be damned if she’d let him
treat her like some little girl. “And who is this ‘we’, Parker? You keep saying
that, and not telling me what the hell you mean.”

“Language.” His lips tightened to a
thin line. “We haven’t talked about that either, have we? We’ll remedy that
once you’re under my roof.”

Ashley’s heart raced, and she
suspected it wasn’t solely due to her irritation. What did that mean? This
wasn’t going the way she’d intended.

He stepped close to her side, and
she felt the blatant hard evidence of his reaction to her defiance. “Put on the
shoes, Ashley. I won’t tell you again.” His voice held a coldness that had her
nipples tightening even further under the cotton of her shirt.

Slipping her feet into the heels,
she felt immediately off balance. She moved to crouch down, but his hand across
the tops of her breasts stayed her. He knelt down and laced up the heels, the
straps reaching well above her ankles. They were “fuck me” heels without a
doubt, but she had to admit they were damn
good looking
ones.

Parker remained kneeling a moment,
his gaze rising from her heels to the curls between her thighs. “The shirt was
a good choice.”

His million watt smile made her
cheeks flame, and she willed herself not to cover her exposed pussy with her
hands.

The gravel of the driveway was
about as conducive to heels as a 100 degree day was to ice cream, and she
stumbled several times, Parker’s grasp saving her from an ignominious tumble.
Worse than stumbling though, was the wobble of her exposed flesh as she
haltingly walked in the torturous shoes.

“How does anyone walk in these
things?” she ground out under her breath as she faltered once more, saved by
his viselike grip on her upper arm.

“Practice, girl. You’re going to be
getting plenty of it.”

She flashed him a questioning look
when instead of guiding her to his truck, he directed her down the driveway.

With a grinding of gravel, trying
to extricate herself from his grip, she stopped in her tracks. His grip
tightened, and he continued walking. When she stood her ground, he turned to
her, eyes narrowing. “Walk, Ashley.”

Despite the t-shirt, she felt
especially naked outside in broad daylight, essentially dressed like a hooker.
It felt like there was a spotlight on her pussy, the curls just peeking out
from below the hem of her shirt. “I can’t walk that far in these, Parker.”

He stood directly in front of her,
releasing her arm to tip up her chin with his finger. His cold gaze locked with
hers, her heart galloping at the intensity she saw in his eyes. “You’ve already
got punishments coming, Ashley. If you don’t move, you’ll only add to them.
It’s your choice.”

Searching his face for playfulness
or mercy, she found neither.

He stepped close and reached around
her hip, slapping her ass, hard. “Do you want me to spank you right here, girl?
I will, if you need it.”

She swallowed. “No, Parker. Sir.”

He grinned, white teeth bright in
the sunshine, and extended his arm toward the house. “Well then.”

The three hundred feet downhill to
his house felt like three hundred miles, made worse by their proximity to the
main road the closer they got to Parker’s house. She dreaded what would happen if
a car happened to pass by the driveway entrance.

Please just let me get there
without breaking an ankle.

Absurd thought, that. He had such a
grip on her, that she felt like a ragdoll compared to his strength, completely
under his control.

A fresh surge of moisture slickened
the lips of her cunt at the thought.

Thankfully no cars were to be seen,
and she sighed in relief once inside Parker’s home.

Then her mouth went dry.

Drake was sitting in the living
room, his long legs crossed as he read the paper. His dark eyes flicked up,
then pointedly lower as she stood in the foyer between the living room and
dining room. “What are you two doing here?”

His deep voice washed over her, and
her cunt spasmed. She felt like sinking into the floor. She tensed her body, ready
to flee. This was too much.

Too much like your fantasies,
you mean?

“Be still,” Parker rumbled at her
ear.

“Hey Drake.” Parker’ grip tightened
on her arm. “We’re just gonna get Ashley cleaned up and address some …
business. Don’t mind us.”

Something passed between the two
men, so swift she almost didn’t catch it. An acknowledgment?

You’re delirious, Ash.

Drake said nothing, folding his
paper in his lap and staring at her. Her eyes were drawn to the paper, and his
lap. She could see the prominent and growing bulge there. Her mouth felt like
the fucking Sahara.

“Parker, not with—”

“Nonsense. Drake lives here.” He
dragged her by the arm down the hallway. Thankfully once in the corridor,
Drake’s dark gaze no longer bored into her — but she wondered what was coming
next.

Parker flipped on the lights as
they moved deeper down the hallway, the air cooler, sheltered from the sun.
Recessed ceiling light washed both of them in muted warm illumination as they
walked down the corridor.

They passed a door at their right
that had a bolt latched with a silver lock. “Where does that go?”

He glanced at it, then at her,
considering. “The basement.”

She looked at the lock, and decided
now was not the time to ask why they needed to padlock their own basement door.

He brought her into his room,
turning on several banks of lights. The room was huge, and everything about it
bespoke maleness. The bed frame and headboard was a deep dark wood tone,
possibly cherry or stained walnut, and looked as stout as a tank. It seemed big
enough to sleep about five people. The dark bedspread was a deep maroon, almost
purple color, the deep pile carpet a charcoal gray. There was little else in
the room, save a plush, deeply padded chair and ottoman in one corner, a spot
directing warm light directly down upon it. A reading light, or something else?

Ashley shivered at the thought.

“Bathroom is this way,” Parker
said, hand outstretched. “Take off your shirt though.”

She turned her head to look back
down the hallway, for the door to the bedroom remained wide open.

“Just do it, girl. You can’t take a
shower with your shirt on can you?”

Pulling it over her head, she
handed it to Parker, who folded it in his hands and draped it over the back of
the chair. He pointed toward the bathroom, his expression sober. She looked
down at her feet, and back at him, questioning.

He chuckled. “You can take them off
in there. I want to watch you walk first.”

Blushing as she walked, she felt
his gaze on her ass, the heels lending her hips an exaggerated roll and sway.

Then she walked into the bathroom
and gasped.

Chapter Fifteen

M
aybe she’d gotten a little cocky, too
sure she could handle whatever the gorgeous man standing in the doorway behind
her could dish out. When she saw the shower she knew she was a fucking idiot.

Oh Lord.

Parker’s laugh rumbled behind her. “Like
it? It took forever, and a shitload of money to get it this way. I can’t wait
to try it out.”

She turned her head back toward
him, feeling even more naked now than she had before. “You mean you’ve never
used … it?”

He shook his head, the grin on his
face somewhere between angelic and wolfen.

The bathroom was huge — almost as
big as his bedroom. The room was done in a dark slate tile, with gold fixtures.
A roman shower seemingly big enough for an entire football team dominated most
of the room, frosted glass doors accented with gold trim and long burnished
handles masking the interior. It was beautiful, but that wasn’t what elicited
her shock.

It was what hung
above
the
shower.

Chains.

Silvery links of stainless steel
reached up to a block and tackle that sent chills down her spine. The first
images that popped into her head were those of a side of meat, hung up for
inspection. Ashley shivered. The block and tackle assembly was suspended from
stout ringbolts embedded in a bare old-growth timber that spanned the ceiling
of the bathroom. The chains terminated in rubberized cuffs, currently hanging
open. She felt a simultaneous urge to flee, and a morbid curiosity about how
those cuffs might feel clasped around her wrists.

Parker’s hand along the small of
her back gently urged her forward.

Standing at the threshold of the
huge shower, Ashley looked up at those chains. “Why …?”

A hand stroked the curve of her
bare hip. “Because I enjoy it. You’d better get used to it, because you won’t
have a free moment in that shower. You’ll always be bound in there — whether
you’re attending to one of us, or we’re attending to you.”

Us.

“Parker. I don’t think I can do
this.” She backed up and collided with his solid chest. Muscular arms descended
immediately upon her, wrapping her tightly in their strength, squeezing her
back against the hard planes of his body.

Warm breath tickled her ear. “Problem?”

“I—I just can’t.” She tried to
twist from his grip, but his arms tightened further, pressing a gasp from her.
If it weren’t for those chains hanging above them like asps, the feel of his
strength would have had her panting, and her pussy gushing. As it was, all she
wanted to do was get away.

Parker turned her in his arms,
marching her backward until her heels struck the base of the shower wall, her
back against the frosted glass. His lips were turned down in a frown, those
eyes assessing, not missing one bit of her reactions. “Tell me. Why does the
idea frighten you?”

“It doesn’t frighten me, Parker—” a
muscle in his square jaw clenched “— sorry, Sir.”

“Then what is it? I need to know.”
His hand caressed the vulnerable weight of her breast. “This is all about
communication, Ashley. If you don’t tell me, I won’t know, can’t prevent you
from being hurt.”

“This is about making me helpless.
Hanging up in here like a side of beef.” She affected a scowl at him. She
wanted
to be helpless though, on her knees, taking that big cock of his into her
mouth. But the idea of being bound, helpless in the shower. Something about it
… was it unease? Dark fascination? Both?

“Side of beef? No. Making you feel
helpless? Definitely.” He squeezed her breast firmly, drawing a breathless sigh
from her. “Rendering you helpless should go without saying, girl. Especially in
here.”

She looked up at him, an eyebrow
raised.

Parker’s eyes roamed down, drinking
in her naked flesh. Instinctively, she covered her sex with her hands.

“Now, you know better than that I
think.” His fingers seized both of her hard nipples, the gentle squeeze a
warning. “Drop them, Ashley. Now.”

Reluctantly, she dropped her hands,
, forcing them to hang at her sides. His hand stroked the dark fur of her
mound. “As fetching as these curls are, this needs to be bare. Soon enough.” He
gave a tuft of her pubic hair a playful yank.

With Herculean will she kept her
hands where they were, clenching them into little fists lest he see how much
her fingers trembled. It was just being bound, tied up. Why the hell was she
having this kind of reaction? Terry had never tied her up. He’d demanded her
compliance without it — though she had no doubt there were times he would have
resorted to it had it become necessary.

Parker tapped the underside of one
of her breasts, the flesh jumping. “Arms up, now Ashley. Along the glass.”

His intent gaze took in the way her
breasts moved as she reached up, stretching further at his growling insistence.

“Sir, please. What if … ?” She
flicked a glance toward the door. The fact that it remained wide open was
perhaps the most galling aspect of this surreal situation. It felt to her as if
she were stripping off in a public place, all eyes on her, on her shame, her
wanton display of her body. What about Drake? Would he really come in while she
and Parker were in there together?

Why didn’t that possibility not
completely mortify her?

Stupid question. Stupid girl.

A hand stroked her neck, felt the
pounding pulse just under the skin. “Higher, Ashley. Grasp the top of the
glass. That’s right, good.”

She knew she should protest, demand
he at least he close the door. But she also knew it would likely earn her a
reprimand of some sort. Worse, a tiny, but insistent part of her was intrigued,
maybe even a little … excited, at the danger of it. She had no clue she’d been
harboring latent exhibitionist tendencies.

Parker stood back, crossing his
arms, his cool gaze dropping pointedly from her face to take in her exposed
flesh. He shook his head slowly, stroking his chin, a finger making a rough
noise through his stubble. “You’re not eating enough, you know that?”

“I eat more than enough, Parker.
Sir.”

Sure she was a little thinner than
normal, but ordinarily she’d have done a happy dance at that fact. The real
reason behind it was what sobered her up.

His fingers traced over the lines
of her flat belly. “I like definition in some girls, but that isn’t your body
type. You’re made to look like a woman.” His palm spread over her belly,
stroking oh so slowly. “To please your man, to take him in. Provide him refuge,
comfort.”

“I could use a little less refuge,
actually,” she murmured, her self-deprecation an automatic, reflexive response.
Her curves, while appreciated in more recent years, were anything but, as a
teenager. She’d felt like a cow next to her athletic friends. And she’d seen
the way boys’ eyes passed right over her, merely scenery, before they fixated
on her friends’ lithe perfection.

What was it about teenage boys? And
why were some men apparently so different? Perhaps it was merely a case of
taking a few years to grow into her body. Regardless, now, even though men told
her otherwise, she still struggled with that urge to hide, to just fade into
the background, to let the beautiful people bask in the attention.

“Nonsense, Ashley. You’re too thin.”
He stepped very close, crowding her against the glass with his big body. “We’re
going to make sure you start eating more. I want this body filled out, your
curves back to full glory. You’ll just have to adjust, I’m afraid.”

Swallowing, she looked up at him.
His fond smile was belied by a far-off shadow in his gaze. “I don’t need to eat
more, really. Don’t you like skinny girls?”

His grin sent butterflies
fluttering in her belly. “I like
healthy
girls, Ashley. This little body
of yours —” his heavy hands settled on the slopes of her hips “—was meant to be
lush, feminine. I’m not looking for wan stick figures. And neither is Drake.”

“W—what?” The vain, competitive
part of her exulted in the fact that he found her attractive, that Drake — who
clearly could have any woman he set eyes on — would
possibly
find her
appealing.

Jesus, Ash. Get a grip. You’ve
got more important things to worry about than impressing boys.

“Oh sure.” Parker eased his hips
against her, the hard length of his cock under his slacks rubbing along her
belly. Threatening, promising. “He likes women with something to hold onto,
something to rest his head on.” Parker’s eyes flashed. “Something to spank.”

“You mean he’s …
like you
?”

Parker’s laughter rolled through
the tiled room, the richness of his pleasure making her wonder if she’d missed
some inside joke.

“His needs match mine, if that’s
what you mean. You’ll find out soon.”

Oh fuck …

“First though, we need to get our
little prey trussed up. We wouldn’t want you to get away, now would we?”

She gulped.

A long finger pressed between her
trembling breasts. “Will you be a good girl and stay in position? Do I need to
bind you now?”

The stern clench of his jaw
convinced her obedience was the better course of action, at least at the
present. “No … Sir.”

He beamed. “I like that you’ve
taken so quickly to that, Ashley. I’m glad to see it.”

Being inordinately proud of his
praise made her feel both giddy and ridiculous. She wasn’t a twelve year old
girl trying to impress a cute boy at a middle school social. Yet, here she was
stark naked before the towering form of Parker, basking in smug
self-satisfaction because he’d deigned to express pleasure at her behavior.

You’re messed up, you know that?

His long fingers worked down the
front of his dress shirt, more of his tanned flesh exposed with each slip of a
button. When he spread his shirt wide, pulling it from the clutch of his
slacks, she had to remember to breathe. And not drool.

He discarded the shirt, and she
drank in the tanned, muscular sight before her. His broad shoulders seemed to
go on forever, the cords of muscle there flexing as his hands worked his belt
free. The powerful chest called out to her hands to stroke all that smooth,
hard muscle. She watched the tight abdominals bunch as he folded the black
leather of the belt back upon itself, snapping it against his palm a couple of
times and grinning at her startled jerk. He hung the belt from a towel hook. “We’ll
just save that for later.”

She inhaled sharply as he moved to
her, his hand wrapping around her nape, a possessive gleam in his eyes. “Stay
right here.”

His lips brushed hers, his hand
tightening on the back of her neck. Then he walked out, Ashley’s avid gaze
traveling down the long, muscled vee of the back that tapered down to a trim
waist. The slacks perfectly outlined a firm ass she’d been longing to get her
hands on since almost the first moment she’d met him. There was power there
that she couldn’t wait to experience, to feel. Thus far, he hadn’t let her
touch him much at all, and she realized then that she’d missed it, wanted to
explore that powerful male body, revel in the feel of that strength which spoke
to her in the most primal of ways.

She felt the exposure of her
position acutely as she stood there, her back pressed to the cold glass in the
dead quiet of the bathroom. Why the hell did he leave?

Her hands came down off the top of
the glass, and she made a frustrated sound, battling with herself. Yes, she
knew nobody would know if she took her arms down to cover her breasts, to give
her a much-needed respite from her blatant exposure. But she also knew if would
be just her luck to have Parker saunter back in there to catch her hurriedly
reaching for the top again, caught in her act of disobedience.

Maybe …

She took her arms down, crossing
them over the swells of her breasts, and stuck her chin out. She wasn’t going
to be some fucking doormat. Her pussy tingled at the thought of the fight to
come, and the inevitability of her losing it. He needed to know that she wasn’t
some broken, scared little animal, desperately seeking the succor of a strong,
wealthy man.

A strong, wealthy, gorgeous man.

Then Parker reappeared in the
doorway … and he wasn’t alone.

“What do you think you’re doing?”
Parker’s grin belied the words, his eyes dancing with a mischievous pleasure.

Drake’s massive frame filled the
space next to Parker, this new presence in the room ratcheting the tension in
her body into the stratosphere. She looked from Parker’s pleased smile to
Drake’s stony, dark gaze. Absurdly, though she should have been mortified at
the situation, her eyes alighted on the dark lashes of Drake’s eyes. Not for
the first time she resented the fact that so many men seemed to have the
beautiful eyes that women spent hundreds of dollars and hours of torture to
get.

You may want to come back to
reality now, you idiot. You’re standing naked in a room in front of Parker AND
Drake.

“Parker — what are you … ?” She
left one arm across her disturbingly erect nipples, dropping a hand down to
cover her naked sex. Her face burned so hot it felt as if the roots of her hair
might burst into flames. She dropped her eyes, unable to meet their gazes. It
was just too much for her.

But that tingle she’d felt in her
pussy earlier had gone into throbbing overdrive, a traitorous uncoiling
stirring deep in her belly.

Parker’s laughing smile fell, his
eyes growing cold. “Get those hands back up, or I’m going to have Drake help me
get you tied into your little harness.”

Ashley’s mouth dropped open, and
she chanced a glance up at both men. Drake’s arms were crossed over his massive
barrel chest, the tanned, heavily muscled forearms flexing. He looked like he
could break her in half with hardly a thought.