White Collared Part One: Mercy (9 page)

How could she vocalize her desires when she didn’t know how to put them into words? Her fantasies were just that: fantasies. The fact that her pussy swelled at the thought of being tied down and bound with rope didn’t mean she’d actually enjoy it. “My only desire is to find Alyssa’s killer,” she whispered in return.

He lifted his head and a million emotions passed through his eyes before they settled on something akin to regret. Whether it was for Alyssa or because she hadn’t answered his question, she didn’t know. “Benediction recognizes ‘red’ as the club’s universal safe word. Red means everything stops. You use ‘yellow’ when you want to slow down and we’ll talk. Green means you’re good to go. But if you want, you can pick a safe word in addition to red. Something you’ll remember.”

“Gunshot,” she said automatically.

His palm drifted down her cheek to her shoulder. “I’m not the only one who’s been touched by violence, am I?”

“Hasn’t everyone?” she countered, shivering, thrown by how in tune he was with her thoughts. Her emotions. Her body.

His brown eyes smoldered, and, for the first time, she sensed darkness in him. “No. Not like we have. Looking into your eyes is like looking in a mirror. Maybe that’s why . . .” He smoothed the callused pads of his fingers along her collarbone, leaving goose bumps in their wake and beading her nipples.

Was this another part of her training? Because it felt real. Realer than the artwork hanging on the walls of his home. This felt dangerous. Exciting. Alive. She felt way too much for this man. A man suspected of murdering his wife. A man who wasn’t Tom. A man who was her client.

Yet despite the possible ethical and legal ramifications of becoming sexually involved with him, she silently willed those fingers to move south, needing to feel those calluses abrade her aching nipples. But the Dom in him was obviously on his own timetable because he continued to skim his fingers across the length of her collarbone. A needy, breathy moan escaped from her throat, darkening his eyes to onyx. With one hand splayed low on her back, he pressed her against the ridge of his erection, proving in the most delicious way that this attraction wasn’t one-sided. His head dipped lower, his lips edged closer, and his fingers drifted down the upper swell of her breast, so close to her nipple she thought she’d go insane if he didn’t make contact soon.

She wanted him.

Consequences be damned.

Chapter Ten

H
IS LIPS HOVERED
over hers, his breath sweet and warm. They hadn’t even kissed, yet she’d never been so aroused, the walls of her slick pussy fluttering in the hope that Jax would soon fill it with his thick fingers, his tongue, or his cock. Rational thought had fled and been replaced with pure, wanton physical desire.

Until the shrill ringing of a phone broke through the sensual fog, dropping her straight back into reality.

She backed away from him, rubbing her neglected lips. Except for his throat working over a swallow, he didn’t move a muscle. His eyes returned to their normal golden brown.

He motioned to her pants. “Are you going to answer?”

Oh. It was
her
phone. She slid the cell from the pocket of her black slacks.

Nick.

Swamped with guilt, she answered. “Hi, Nick. How was trial?”

“We settled. How’s your training?”

She tried to sound normal. “Great. Jaxon was just about to take me home. We’re ready for Benediction tomorrow night.”

He was silent.

“Nick? Are you there?”

“Yeah. Sorry. I got distracted.” He cleared his throat. “I’ll see you in the morning.” The call disconnected.

Had she said something wrong? Had he somehow figured out what he’d interrupted?

“I’ll take you home,” Jax said. Then, without another word, he left her alone in the playroom.

The ride home wasn’t any better. He’d barely spoken other than to ask for directions. It shouldn’t bother her. She’d obviously misread their connection. Just because he was attracted to her didn’t mean he wanted anything to happen between them other than what was necessary to convince everyone she was his sub. The erotic caresses, the almost kiss, the hard cock against her belly. None of it had meant a damn thing.

Her entire body hummed with the kind of need only an orgasm or two, and not the self-induced kind, would satiate. She glanced at the dashboard clock. Tom should be home from work by now, and she hadn’t seen him in a few days. A night with him would remind her of why she loved him, and then she could mentally slot Nick and Jaxon in their proper places as her boss and client. “I’ve changed my mind. Up at the next light, make a left.”

“Where am I taking you, Kate?”

Kate. Not Katerina.
Disappointment lanced her chest.

She could lie. She didn’t owe him anything. “My boyfriend’s apartment,” she answered honestly.

Bittersweet triumph rocked her off her foundation when his hands tightened on the steering wheel.

“Dating long?” he asked casually.

“Two years.” They’d met on campus during her first year of law school when he was in his last year of medical school. Two souls who didn’t bother to stop studying for a minute. Their books spread out in front of them as they ate the cafeteria’s soggy sandwiches. After seeing each other every day at lunch for a week, he’d started up a conversation with her. He later confessed he’d wanted to ask her out the first day he’d spotted her, but it took him the week to gather his courage. It seemed like a lifetime ago.

He was the first man she’d dated since . . . well, she’d never actually
dated
before Tom. Smart and stable with his life planned from his residency to retirement in Santa Fe. He’d understood her drive for success and didn’t complain when she’d fall asleep on his couch with a law book on her chest. They’d settled into a comfortable routine. At least until she’d begun interning for Nick.

Between school, studying, and work, she’d had no time or energy for dinner and a movie followed by a ten-minute session of missionary-position sex. But as she’d learned a decade ago at age fourteen, sex had nothing to do with love. So what if their sex life was a bit boring? They loved each other. Supported each other’s careers. Shared common interests.

In the scheme of things, the sex wasn’t important. They were friends. Yet he knew little of her past. Didn’t know her real name. And he had no idea she was planning on going to a sex club as her client’s submissive. It was confidential, but even if it wasn’t, he’d never approve or understand how far she’d go to prove Jaxon’s innocence. After all, he didn’t know the truth behind why she’d decided to become an attorney.

Her boyfriend conveniently lived a few blocks from her apartment, but his was spacious and a whole lot nicer than her dump. It was also an extra $600 a month. He’d asked her to move in with him, but she wasn’t ready for that kind of commitment.

A minute later, they approached Tom’s building. “It’s that one. On the right,” she said, pointing to the apartment.

He veered the car to the curb in front of the building before placing it in park. She unbuckled and then pivoted to say good-night, but he spoke first. “Your boyfriend . . . it’s serious?” He ran his fingers through his hair. “Forget I asked. It’s none of my business.”

No, it wasn’t. But how she wished it was . . .

“Good-night, Jaxon.”

The inclination to kiss his cheek was overwhelming, and she leaned forward. He stopped her with a firm hand on her shoulder. “Sleep well, Kate.”

Tonight he wouldn’t allow her to kiss his cheek. Tomorrow he was taking her half naked to a sex club where he might have to touch her most intimate places. Why did she think this plan would work?

Departing his car, she was greeted by the hot, sticky evening air, the kind of air that signaled an imminent rainstorm. When he drove away, she unlocked the front door of Tom’s building.

Running up the steps to the third floor, she raked her fingers through her hair, trying to tame it before she pounced on her boyfriend. The high humidity had frizzed her hair into a wild mess. Appropriate since that’s how she felt right now.

Jaxon had aroused a storm in her the size of a hurricane. Tom wouldn’t know what hit him by the time she was finished with him. She almost hoped she’d find him asleep so she could quietly crawl into bed and slide his boxers down his thighs. He’d awaken with his cock deep in her mouth, and then she’d impale herself on him before he could coax her into their typical missionary sex.

She rapped on his door and waited. When he didn’t answer, she figured he was either still at work or asleep. Either way, she’d surprise him. She unlocked his door and slipped inside his dark apartment. After setting her purse on the small table next to the door, she crept across the family room toward the back of the one-bedroom apartment.

The creaking of the bedsprings and Tom’s low moan alerted her to his presence. Shit, she’d interrupted him masturbating.

She paused by his closed bedroom door, aroused by his animalistic groans and grunts. Should she make some noise so he’d know she was there? She twisted the doorknob and cracked open the door, wanting a visual to go with the audio before she jumped him. And that’s when she heard
her.

“You like my hot cunt, baby? It’s all yours.”

With her spine arched, her head thrown back in wild abandon, and her blond curls cascading over her shoulders, Hannah rode a blindfolded Tom.

Frozen in shock, Kate watched the scene, disgusted by their betrayal but, at the same time, aroused by their private dance. Each swirl of Hannah’s hips, each perfectly timed upward thrust of Tom’s pelvis against her clitoris was to a rhythm only they could hear.

They connected on more than a physical level. Their bodies gleamed with sweat, the scent of sex so thick in the air, it was almost visible.

This wasn’t a one-time mistake. Anyone could sense they’d made love countless times in the past.

And if it didn’t hurt so damn much to watch, it would have been beautiful.

“Tom! Tom! I’m going to come!” Hannah shouted, her pace increasing.

He gripped the sides of her hips and slammed her down against him. “Come all over my dick!”

For some reason, she felt compelled to wait until they climaxed before she interrupted. Then she clapped, giving them the kudos they deserved. “I’d give it a ten, but I had to take a point off for dramatics.”

Hannah squealed in shock, crossing her arms over her chest to hide her breasts while Tom whipped off his blindfold.

“Shit. Kate. What are you doing here?”

“That’s rich. What am I doing here? The question is how could you both do this to me?”

Oh God.
She
was the frigid girlfriend Hannah had mentioned in the bar. That her two closest friends had lied to her was bad enough, but the thought of Hannah laughing behind her back sliced her open, leaving her raw and exposed.

Hannah took Tom’s hand. “Kate, we didn’t mean for this to happen, and the last thing I wanted to do was hurt you.”

She refused to waste tears on these two. “Right, because screwing my boyfriend behind my back wouldn’t hurt me.”

Tom disengaged from Hannah’s grip and scrambled out of bed, yanking on a pair of sweats. “Wait, Katie.”

“Good-bye, Tom. I hope you’re happy with her. You deserve each other. Hannah, stay away from me at work or, I swear, I’ll make you pay.” She raced out of the apartment, grabbing her purse on the way.

How could she be so stupid? All this time, she’d thought staying with a man as predictable as Tom would keep her safe. But he’d played her for a fool. Apparently, he wasn’t the dud in the sack. She was.

The whole situation hurt her head. Her heart raced and she couldn’t catch her breath. She needed a pill.

As she trotted down the stairs, Tom shouted her name from a few feet behind her. She didn’t want to talk. Didn’t want to hear his excuses. There was nothing he could say to make this right. Her trust for him had been based on the man she thought he was, but she’d cared for a mirage.

She flew out the building to the dark street and into a downpour of rain. The single working streetlamp cast Tom’s shadow onto the sidewalk. The door banged, and he trudged behind her, breathless and smelling like Hannah.

“Kate, please let me explain,” he begged. The hands that had earlier gripped Hannah’s hips now cupped her shoulders, swiveling her around to face him.

“There’s nothing you can say to make this right. We’re done. I don’t want to ever see you again,” she said, surprising herself with the calm in her voice.

“You don’t mean that. I know I messed up, but she threw herself at me. I didn’t go out intending to sleep with her.”

When his gaze slid to her chest, she looked down. Damn it! Her nipples were visible under her soaked white blouse. She folded her arms across her chest.

Despite the warm air, she was racked with chills, causing her teeth to chatter. “Right. Your dick accidentally fell into her pussy.”

He winced. “One night I ran into her at the bar. We just talked. Honestly. We commiserated about how you’d withdrawn from us since starting the internship. We missed you. So we figured we’d keep each other company. As friends. I rarely saw you, and, honestly, I didn’t think you’d even notice if I
married
another woman. I may have cheated with Hannah, but you’re not innocent either. You cheated on me with Nick.”

Her heart sank to her drenched feet. How had he found out about their kiss? “It didn’t—”

He spoke over her without giving her a chance to explain. “Yeah, I know there’s nothing sexual going on with the two of you, but you’re infatuated with him. Obsessed almost. How am I supposed to compete with the perfect Nicholas Trenton? I guess after a while I decided to take myself out of the running.”

She held up her hand and twirled in the direction of her apartment, determined to get home before she crumbled. “I can’t believe you’re blaming me for your cheating.”

He ran after her and seized her arm, spinning her back around. “At least let me give you a ride home.”

Tired, angry, and confused, all she wanted was to hide under the covers of her warm bed. But she refused to spend another minute with him, even if it meant she’d escape the rain and get to her bed that much quicker. She tried yanking her arm from his firm grasp. “Get your hands off me.” He tightened his hold, his fingers digging into the skin of her forearm. “You’re hurting me.”