Your To Take - Connaghers 03 (8 page)

“Earlier today, I had an idea for a shirt for Jesse. He’s
masculine enough to carry off a more delicate, fitted shirt in an antique
style. At the time, I was thinking about a bit of lacy ruffle at the neck and
wrists, with full, billowing sleeves, something like what a gentleman would
have worn to a ball in the nineteenth century.”

She turned up the collar of his denim shirt and wrapped the
scarf around his throat and back around, pulling the ends back to the front and
crossing them in a loose knot. “I’ll look up some period knots and do something
a little more creative than this, but you get the idea.” Standing to his side,
she gripped the material at his waist tighter against his body. “I’ll take his
measurements to ensure I give him a modern, fitted look—almost as if he were
wearing a waistcoat instead of the loose, billowing linen shirts the gentlemen
wore. I wasn’t going to do men’s pieces, but if I limit myself to shirts only,
it may work.”

Victor’s eyes were narrowed and he drummed his fingers on
his thigh. “Sorry, Sis, but I don’t get it. Do you think straight men will
actually wear shirts like this?”

Without saying a word, she pulled the scarf from Jesse’s
neck and started wrapping it around his left wrist. Eagerly, he offered his
other arm, letting her bind his hands behind his back.

“A male Dominant could use the cravat to bind his
submissive.” Shiloh’s voice had gone as sultry as a Texas summer day. “I’m not
much into bondage, but I like this idea. You wouldn’t wear something like that,
V? For me?”

“For you, absolutely,” Victor growled out in a rough voice
that made her shudder. “Besides, I know how much you like vintage clothing.”

“Whoa,” Mal whispered. “Please tell me you have a dress I
could wear with something like this built into it? Although I don’t have a boy
as pretty as yours to tie up right now.”

The black-and-white zebra dress hovered in Vicki’s mind. A
little bit of red and black, braided together and then wrapped around the
waist. “Yeah, I think I do.”

“So we have your theme: professional daywear that conceals
kinkier bondage,” Shiloh said, her eyes bright with excitement. “Does that give
you an idea for the name of your line, then?”

Vicki stared down at Jesse’s hands. His breath came in
short, fast pants, his head down and turned slightly, so he could see her
reaction over his shoulder. She imagined him naked, his hair loose and tumbled
in his eyes, his skin slick with sweat, bound to her bed so she could tease and
play with him at will. The sight of the silk wrapped around his wrists sent a
surge of visceral lust through her.

She wanted
her
ties on him, not a borrowed scarf. She
wanted him… “
Bound
.”

“Yes,” Jesse ground out.

“
By Vicki
doesn’t sound right.” Deep in thought,
Shiloh drummed her fingers on Victor’s thigh. “It doesn’t have enough power
behind it. What do you call her other than her name, Jesse?”

“Ma’am.”

“That’s fine and dandy for you two, but that’s not enough
for this,” Mal said. “I don’t suppose you see yourself as Mistress Vicki or
even just Mistress V?”

“Not really,” Vicki replied. “No offense, I just never
thought of myself that way.”

“Why not
Bound by Madame V
?” Victor leaned forward,
drawing her attention to him. “That gives it a little more class. But you’ll
really have to think about this, Sis. Once you come out of the closet, you’re
going to get a lot of questions. Everybody will think they know your sex life,
which can get downright hilarious sometimes.”

She leaned against Jesse, dropping her head against his back
to hide her face so she could think. This was all so new, strange and crazy.
All she’d wanted to do was start her own fashion line, finally realizing a
teenaged dream she’d given up ages ago. Instead of vague ideas about fashion,
she’d committed to what she thought of as a real, grown-up career. It’d been
crazy to work her ass off in college and fight her way up the ladder at the
firm rung by rung, on the verge of a partnership…

Only to turn around and walk away from it all.

Whether she and Elias managed to work out things or not, she
hadn’t been able to bear standing on the opposite side of the justice system
from him. She’d found the courage to just walk away from years of college and
hard work and she’d never felt better, despite the stress and anxiety of
starting her own business.

Then she’d decided to keep Jesse, even if that caused more
problems with Elias.

Do I have the courage to go on television and show my
face at fashion shows across the country as Madame V?

Jesse shifted slightly. His shoulder muscles moved beneath
her cheek, a subtle reminder. He waited for her to decide what to do with him.
She had this gorgeous man tied up, more than willing to do whatever she wanted.
Could she turn her back on him? Leave him on the street standing in the snow,
because she was too embarrassed to reveal the truth?

She pushed her face firmer against him, breathing in his
warm scent. He smelled like coconut—the shampoo she’d left in the guest
bathroom downstairs. She’d never thought it would smell good on a man, but
breathing his scent made her mouth water.

Straightening, she ran her hands down his arms, lingering
over his forearms and bound hands. “Let’s do it. I like
Bound by Madame
as the line’s name, and then I’ll use the V from my name in my label. I want
Jesse protected by contract, though. Can you set us up something, V? I want to
make sure he gets paid whatever makes sense, at least VCONN’s going rates, and
he can walk away whenever he wants.”

Jesse turned around to face her, his eyes glowing with
intensity. “Me walking away from you is as likely as a blizzard in hell.”

Smiling, she unwound the scarf from his hands. “Be careful,
Jesse. After all, it was a Texan blizzard that brought you to me.”

Chapter Nine

What the hell is she up to?

Elias shifted on her bed, trying to figure out what was
taking her so long in the bathroom. Last night, they’d been too frantic to even
make it to the bed for the first three or four times, and now she wanted him to
sit here and wait while she primped.

God, I need a drink.
A couple of shots of whiskey
would take the edge off, mellow him out so he didn’t fall on her like a raving
lunatic. That’s the only way he’d survived three whole months without her. And
of course driving by like a lovesick fool to make sure her place was secure.
Sometimes he’d even sat outside in the wee hours of the morning in his truck,
just watching, remembering.

If he’d used his key and come to her one of those dark
nights, would she have forgiven him for walking out? If he’d called, just once,
instead of sitting in his empty apartment staring at the phone all fucking
night?

Or did it take a half-starved, homeless kid to bring us
back together?

The bathroom door opened, and Elias damned near choked to
death because his heart tried to crawl up his throat. He couldn’t breathe as
Vicki came near her bed.

She wore a filmy, white negligee that tied beneath her
breasts and fluttered about her hips, oddly demure but so damned sexy he
couldn’t remember his own name. Her dark hair fell loose and soft about her
shoulders and her molten chocolate eyes shimmered in the candlelight. She
picked up an opened bottle of wine on the bedside table and calmly poured two
glasses of red. Still silent, she handed him a glass and sipped hers, watching
him with those dark, mysterious eyes.

He tipped his head back and drained the whole thing, even
though he hated wine.

“What do you think?”

It had to be a trick question. Narrowing his eyes, he tried
to make a joke. “Did we get married and I forgot about it?”

Her eyes caught fire and she slammed the fragile wineglass
down so hard he feared it might shatter. “I told him this was a stupid idea.”

“Jesse?” Elias fought to keep an even voice. “What the hell
does he have to do with…with…?” He swept his hand at her negligee, fighting not
to fist his fingers in that transparent material and rip it off her.

“He swore you’d like it.”

“So what, now you’re letting your cabana boy pick out sleazy
underwear and babydolls? For me?”

“At least I’m not wearing it for him.” She whirled away.
“Forget it, Reyes.”

Jumping up, he whipped out his arms and caught her, drawing
her back toward the bed so he could sit back down. She jerked away and fought
his grip, but he wrapped his arms around her and held on until her ire faded.

When he saw the tears on her cheeks, he cursed beneath his
breath and held her tighter. He’d forgotten that sometimes anger from her hid
her true emotion: hurt.

“I never should have worn this thing. I hate it.” She
sniffed, a tiny little sigh of her breath, which in another woman would have
been full-blown wailing and sobs. He tucked his head close to hers, even if she
skull-slammed him. “I told him it was a stupid idea. Just forget it.”

“How could you hate this babydoll when I’d like nothing
better than to rip it off you and ravish you senseless?”

She shook her head, so he drew her harder into the cradle of
his thighs, pressing her against his erection. “That doesn’t mean anything. I
bet you had a hard-on as soon as you walked into my bedroom.”

“It wasn’t this big, babe, this hard, this painful.” He
lowered his voice and nuzzled her neck. “I’d like to think that you might say
‘I do’ to me someday.”

“You’d have to ask me first,” she retorted.

She had him there. He’d thought about it, sure, even when
she was still an attorney. Even if she had to stand between the law and the
very criminals he was putting away. But then his bigger head had started
working again and he’d remembered how quickly a marriage could go down the
shitter when he worked his kind of hours. “I can’t stop being a cop.”

“And I can’t give up Jesse.” She whispered, but her voice
rang like steel. “If you love me at all, don’t ask me.”

Not even for me?
The words thundered in Elias’s head,
but he refused to voice them. He did love her, and he’d had his chance. He’d
fucked it up and walked out three months ago. That she’d let him back in this
far was more than he deserved. He had no right to demand her whole heart for
himself.

God forgive him, she’d already given up her career. Maybe
not for him, not in so many words, but he couldn’t ask for anything else. It
was his turn to sacrifice to be with her, and the only damned thing he had was
his own fool pride.

His stomach churned like he’d swallowed a fist full of razor
blades, but he said nothing.

Nothing at all.

Why couldn’t he give just an inch? Would it kill him to say
that he loved her?

Her heart thudded so heavily in her chest that she couldn’t
breathe. She wanted to double over and wrap her arms around herself and moan in
agony. Why did she let him tie her up in knots like this?

Loosening his grip, he sat back on the bed, giving her space
to withdraw. She curled her hand into a fist, aching to turn around and just
belt him in the chin. But that’s what she always did. When they argued, she
fought, challenging, refusing to back down. Wasn’t that their greatest
difficulty?

Slowly, she uncurled her fingers. She wouldn’t give him a
fight. Not this time.
But I won’t retreat either.

He smoothed his palms up and down her arms, hesitantly at
first as though he, too, expected her to whirl around and sock him a good one.
His lips brushed her shoulder, his breath warm and moist on her skin. Her spine
arched and her head fell back. They’d made love countless times, but she
couldn’t remember him ever being so gentle. So hesitant and unsure of his claim
on her affections and her body.

Just as carefully, she turned in his arms to face him. Any
other time, she probably would have shoved him flat on his back and attacked
him, but she was on a roll tonight for trying the unusual. It felt strange to
stand there between his knees and let him stroke her, the barest glide of his
fingertips and mouth over her skin. Her entire body hummed, vibrating with
sweet tension and arousal.

He slid his hand up her thigh beneath the filmy negligee and
he groaned against her mouth. She’d taken Jesse’s advice and gone commando.
Nothing kept Elias from feeling her heat and desire.

“Here you are wearing this nightie he picked out for me.
That’s pretty fucked up, Vik. What does your boy get out this?”

Her cheeks flooded with color and his eyebrows climbed
higher. He let out a rough, low laugh, sliding both hands up to her waist to
lift her astride his hips. Still torturously slow, he slid inside her body,
drawing a desperate moan from her throat. She wanted fast, hard, no thoughts,
no talking, because she didn’t want the truth to come between them.

Damn Elias’s bloodhound cop senses, but that’s exactly what
he wanted. Truth. And the best way to get it was to drive her insane with need.

“Is he listening, imagining that you’re riding him instead
of me? Is he down there beneath us, jacking off?”

She shook her head wildly. “No, he’s not.”

“He’s not imagining his cock is in you instead of mine?”

Air, she needed air. She opened her mouth and sucked in a
lungful, but her face still felt hot and tight. “He’s not jacking off.”

“How do you know, Vik?”

“Because I told him not to.”

She felt the slight jerk in his thrust, that telltale little
hesitation that said she’d surprised him. Judging by the size of his erection
filling her up until she couldn’t think, he didn’t seem mad. She dug at his
shoulders, grinding her pelvis against his, trying to drive him harder.

Sweat slickened his chest, his breath rasping in his throat,
but he didn’t lose that fierce control. “What do you mean, you told him not
to?”

“He…” This was so wrong, so weird, to be talking about Jesse
like this, but she was going to explode into a million pieces. “He’s listening.
Waiting for me to come. But he won’t touch himself.”

“Why?” Elias growled, arcing up off the bed to push deeper
into her without giving her that long glide that would push her over the edge.
“Why won’t he touch himself, Vik?”

“I won’t allow it.”

“So when he hears you scream…”

So close, she was shaking, trembling with the spiraling
need. When Elias clamped his hand over her mouth and rolled her beneath him,
she was too shocked to struggle. Especially when he slammed so deep she saw a
thousand stars burning in her mind. Screaming beneath his palm, she shook with
the force of her climax, but all she heard was a muted, strangled sound mixing
with his deep grunt of release.

He shifted them both up deeper into her bed and she made no
protest. Her mind was reeling. She’d told him about her little “arrangement”
with the other man and he wasn’t bellowing at the top of his lungs. He wasn’t
storming down to his truck and peeling away from the curb. In fact, he tucked
her face into the curve of his neck and simply held her.

He smiled against her forehead, a smug curve of satisfaction
that also echoed in his voice. “We’ll give your boy something to hear in a bit.
That one was for me alone.”