Any Way You Want It (20 page)

“Get the nipple clamps from the bag,” she whispered.

His eyes twinkled. “Aye, my queen.”

As he moved to do as he’d been told, she admired his firm, round butt. The man was the epitome of masculine perfection and beauty.

When he returned to her, she angled her back to him. “Undo my corset.”

“With pleasure.”

She held her hair out of the way as he unhooked the binding, his knuckles skimming the skin on her back as he worked quickly. When he was done, he tossed the corset aside and gripped her shoulders, turning her around on the bed.

His hands reached out and plumped her breasts, his thumbs circling her nipples until they were achingly hard.

He groaned with appreciation. “God, you have the prettiest tits, Zan— Your Highness,” he caught himself.

“Thank you. Now put the clamps on me.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

She watched, pulse pounding erratically, as he carefully fastened the clamps onto her elongated nipples. She hissed, pain mingling with erotic pleasure.

“Are you okay?”

She nodded tightly.

He leaned down, licking her areolas to soothe the raw ache. Delicious shivers raced through her. As his lips suckled the plump swell of her breast, one then the other, she could feel the wetness of her slit, the hungry need pulsing in her clit.

She cupped his face between her hands, coaxing his gaze to hers. “I want you to fuck me from behind,” she whispered.

A slow, wicked grin curved his mouth. “With pleasure.”

“In the ass.”

He went still, his eyes searching her face. “Are you sure?”

She lifted an imperious brow. “Are you questioning my command?”

“No, my queen,” he said huskily. “I’ll make love to you, any way you want me to.”

Her heart skipped a thrilled beat.

Nipples throbbing from the clamps, she crawled to the table, reached inside the bag and retrieved the anal lubricant that she’d snuck into the cart yesterday when Remy wasn’t looking.

He watched through heavy-lidded eyes as she poured some of the lubricant into her palms, then smoothed it over his rigid erection, making him shudder from the silky friction.

He climbed off the bed, then dragged her to the edge and set her booted feet on the floor. She spread her legs and bent forward, thrusting her ass high into the air. Remy murmured appreciatively and caressed the swell of her backside.

Glancing over her shoulder, Zandra watched as he licked his middle finger, then gently slipped it inside her hole, preparing her for his entry.

As he pushed a little deeper, she instinctively tensed.

He stopped.

“I’m kinda big,” he murmured without a trace of conceit. “I don’t wanna hurt you.”

Her heart melted at his concern. “You won’t.”

“Are you sure?”

“Absolutely.” She slowly gyrated against him. “Come on. Fuck me.”

He used one hand to spread her ass cheeks. With the other he gripped his erection and guided the blunt head to her tight opening. She closed her eyes as he eased inside her, his thick cock stretching the tight anal muscles.

She bit her lip hard, letting herself relax to take more of his length.

“Am I hurting you?” His voice was rough.

She shook her head quickly. “Keep going,” she half begged.

He moved deeper, his cock dragging against the sensitive tissue as he stretched her some more.

Suddenly he paused, gasping and shaking. “
Ahh...
you’re so tight. You feel so...fucking good.”

She moaned. “Don’t stop.
Please
don’t stop.”

After another moment he began thrusting his hips, his cock slowly pumping in and out of her ass. When he reached between her thighs and rubbed her clit, she shuddered with pleasure, clenching fistfuls of the silk bedspread.

His strokes accelerated, his dick tunneling between her buttocks as he buried himself deeper inside her tight clasp.

She closed her eyes and bit her lip hard enough to draw blood.

She felt raw, wanton. Outrageously decadent.

Remy wrapped her hair around his hand, pulling her head back to growl silkily against her ear, “Am I pleasing you, Your Highness?”

“Um...”

He smacked her ass, and she cried out with pleasure. He whacked her again, harder, and this time she sobbed out,
“Yes!”

He laughed, dark and triumphant.

She soon forgot about the role-playing, forgot about the eyes secretly watching them from the other side of the glass wall. She forgot about everything else and simply lost herself to the moment.

Lost herself to Remy.

She’d had anal sex before and had enjoyed it, but not like this. Never had it been this good. Pleasure flooded each and every nerve ending of her body. Her breasts bounced up and down as Remy fucked her deeply. With her nipples stinging from the clamps and his cock plundering her asshole, it was sensory overload.

Before long she was shaking, needing desperately to come.

And then he reached around and slid his finger into her wet pussy, filling both of her orifices.

That was all she could take.

“Remy!”
she screamed as she climaxed, the orgasm seeming to erupt from every direction.

She felt his cock pump and jerk spasmodically. Then he shuddered, tensed and shouted her name as his hot semen burst into her, making her come even harder.

Afterward they gasped and panted together, his arm clasped tightly around her waist, clutching her to him. Her vision was blurred, and her ears were ringing from the rush of blood to her head.

“Your Highness is absolutely amazing,” Remy whispered, his hot breath burning her ear.

Zandra smiled languidly. “I could say the same of you, slave.”

“Could?”

“Mmm. Might.”

She squealed as he scooped her up and dumped her onto the bed. Before she could scramble away, he swooped down on her and hauled her close so he could spoon her, their bodies sticking together with sweat.

Zandra sighed, thoroughly and deliciously sated. Belatedly remembering the nipple clamps, she reached down and unfastened them, then gently massaged her sore areolas with her fingertips.

Remy held her closer, kissing her along her ear and neck. “How long can we stay here?”

She smiled. “As long as we want.”

“Mmm. That means we’re staying all night then.”

She laughed, turning in his arms to kiss him.

It was only then that she saw a man watching quietly from the open doorway of the chamber.

Their eyes met and held.

She glanced down at Remy. His lids were lowered as he lazily nuzzled her throat.

She lifted her gaze back to Heath.

His eyes were shining.

She blew him a kiss. A kiss farewell.

He smiled softly.

And then he was gone.

Long afterward Remy and Zandra lay quietly together. At some point he’d gotten up to remove her outrageously sexy boots so she could be more comfortable. Since then, neither of them had moved.

“I have to say,” he murmured lazily, “this is the most...unusual place I’ve ever made love.”

Zandra laughed softly. “More unusual than the ladies’ room?”

He chuckled. “Oh, most definitely.”

“I think I have to agree.”

Remy smiled, stroking her hair. “When did you plan all this? And how?”

“That’s for me to know,” she said slyly, “and you never to find out.”

“Why not?”

“Because you don’t need to know details. It’d spoil the illusion.”

“Believe me,
nothing
could spoil this.”

“Doesn’t matter. I’m not telling you.”

He grinned. “Fine. Keep your secrets then.”

“I will. After all,” she murmured whimsically, “what’s a woman without her secrets?”

“Hmm.” Remy kissed her bare shoulder. “You’re an amazing woman, Zandra Kennedy.”

She sighed. “I know.”

Remy reached down and smacked her on the ass.

She laughed, wriggling away from him.

He pulled her right back, burying his face in her soft hair. “I must say, Z, you’d make one
badass
queen.”

She giggled. “You think so?”

“Hell, yeah. I’d do whatever you told me to.”

“You should do that anyway,” she quipped.

“What?
What?
”

She squealed protestingly as he rolled her over to face him, pinning her beneath his body. She stared up at him, her dark eyes glimmering with laughter.

“See,” he murmured, gently brushing her hair back from her face, “I told you I could be submissive.”

She snorted. “Barely.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Oh, come on, Remy. You know it was killing you to lay there and let me be in charge.”

“That’s not true,” he objected.

She gave him a look.

He grinned sheepishly. “Okay, maybe a little. But only because you make me so damn hot for you. I just want to devour you every time.”

“Mmm,” she purred, curving her arms around his neck. “The feeling’s definitely mutual.”

Remy lowered his head, brushing his lips across hers. Her warm breath fanned across his face as he kissed her, sliding his tongue into her mouth. He licked the insides of her cheeks, making her moan softly with pleasure. As she twined her tongue around his, blood rushed into his dick, hardening him at once.

Zandra smiled against his mouth. “Looks like
someone’s
ready for the next round.”

“Hmm.” Remy licked the seam of her lips. “I think that’s a safe assumption.”

“Good. Because I’m ready to go for a ride.”

With that, Zandra pushed Remy onto his back and straddled him, her juices bathing his shaft as she ground slowly against him.

He groaned, his eyes glazed with desire as he stared up at her. She was so damn beautiful, he could have come just from looking at her.

Holding his gaze, she provocatively raised her hips above his jutting erection, then lowered herself and cried out as his cock sank deep into her wetness.

His hands went around her waist, but he didn’t begin thrusting into her. He’d let her set the pace. Let her ride him with that hot, beautiful pussy of hers.

“Ohh,” she moaned, exulting in the feel of him embedded deep inside her.

His mind was blown by the sight of her, head arched back, eyes closed, voluptuous breasts thrust forward. She looked like a work of art. Powerfully feminine, fiercely erotic.

She began to move on him, her pussy clenching around his shaft, gripping him in that way only she could do.

Heart knocking against his ribs, he watched her face as she fucked him slowly and tantalizingly. He memorized the flutter of her black lashes, the delicate flaring of her nostrils, the flush that heated her cheeks, the way she bit her luscious lip in ecstasy.

He savored every sigh of hers, every gasp, every moan, every whimper of his name.

And with every grinding motion of her glorious hips, she drove him closer to orgasm. Closer to paradise.

He ran his hands up and down the silky curve of her back as she rode him. He met each of her thrusts, gave them back to her. As the pressure mounted, his cock pulsed and swelled.

And then he was coming, exploding inside her at the same time that she went liquid around him, her inner muscles contracting.

They came together, long and hard, for what seemed like hours.

It was breathtakingly intense. A spiritual bonding.

When it was over she fell forward onto his chest, gasping and shivering.

He cupped the back of her head and kissed her, unleashing years of pent-up emotion and longing upon her mouth. He kissed her until she was breathless and trembling, until she had to draw back and gasp for air.

Framing her face between his hands, he gazed deep into her eyes and whispered fiercely, “I love you.”

Her eyes softened with tears. “I love you, too, Remy.”

He stared up at her, afraid to believe he’d heard wrong.

So she repeated herself. “I love you.”

His heart soared.

“Zandra,” he said, his voice husky with emotion, “you have no idea how long I’ve dreamed of hearing you say that.”

Surprise flickered in her eyes. “Really?”

“Really.” He swallowed tightly. “I’ve been in love with you for...a long time.”

She gazed wonderingly at him. “How long?”

“Very long.”

A smile quivered on her lips. “That’s...funny.”

“Why?”

“Because I think I’ve been in love with you for a pretty long time myself.”

“Really?” he whispered.

She nodded slowly. “Really.”

They stared at each other.

Then Remy groaned and crushed his mouth to hers, and this time she kissed him back just as hard, just as desperately. As he rolled her onto her back, she wrapped her arms around his neck and clung to him like she never wanted—or planned—to let go.

Remy vowed right then and there to tell her the truth about his secret investigation. As soon as they returned home, he’d come clean with her.

And then he’d do everything in his damn power to convince her to spend the rest of her life with him.

Chapter Twenty

I
f Zandra had had an inkling of the powder keg that awaited her back in Chicago, she would have insisted on remaining in London.

She should have insisted anyway. She and Remy had been having such a wonderful time together, she hadn’t wanted to come home.

On the day they returned, they still couldn’t get enough of each other. Remy drove Zandra home from the airport and carried her luggage inside, then wound up spending the night. They’d made love into the wee hours of the next morning and slept in late, spooned like perfect halves.

When Remy left around noon, promising to return that evening for dinner, Zandra took a hot shower and put on a halter top and jeans. She’d considered going into the office for a few hours, then changed her mind. She’d left the agency in Christine’s capable hands, so there was no need for her to rush back.

Grabbing her iPad so that she could catch up on emails, Zandra made her way to the living room and turned on the television. She surfed disinterestedly through channels before settling on the noon news.

She’d just opened her email app when the newscaster announced, “In breaking developments this afternoon, just one week after announcing his bid for mayor, City Alderman Landis Kennedy has already run into a buzz saw that has his campaign in full damage control mode.”

Zandra’s head snapped up as the anchor continued speaking. “Kennedy’s political troubles began when sources revealed that his daughter, Zandra Kennedy, is the owner of a local escort agency named Elite For You Companions. Miss Kennedy, who’s been in business for five years, is considered something of a power broker on Chicago’s arts scene, sought by many for her fundraising prowess.”

Zandra froze, watching as photos of her at various functions flashed across the television screen.

“But raising money for charitable causes might not be Miss Kennedy’s
only
passion,” the news anchor continued with amused glee. “At a recent museum gala, Kennedy was spotted leaving a restroom with a man identified as powerful CEO Remington Brand.”

The blood drained from Zandra’s head as a picture of her and Remy filled the screen. Remy was adjusting his tie while Zandra glanced furtively around, making sure the coast was clear. Her flushed face and Remy’s satisfied grin left no doubt what they’d just been doing.

“Oh, my God,” Zandra whispered, her cheeks burning with humiliation at the thought of some photographer skulking in the shadows, waiting to snap the perfect scandal shot of her and Remy.

“If hooking up for tawdry trysts in public bathrooms is Miss Kennedy’s idea of a good time,” the snarky anchor intimated, “one can only imagine how her escorts entertain clients.”

Another wave of hot shame swept over Zandra. Forking shaky fingers through her hair, she could only watch in a daze of unreality as her world was turned upside down.

When her cell phone rang, she grabbed the remote control and punched off the television. Her nerves instinctively tightened when she saw that the caller was Christine. Everything had been fine when she’d checked in with her receptionist yesterday, but she had a feeling that was about to drastically change.

“Sorry to be the bearer of bad news so soon after you’ve gotten home,” Christine began anxiously, “but I just thought you should know that within the past hour, three clients have called and canceled dates with escorts.”

“Shit.” Lunging from the sofa, Zandra began pacing up and down the floor. “Did they say why?”

“No. They just said something else came up.” Christine sounded distraught. “What’s going on, Zandra? Are we being investigated?”

Johanna Kennedy’s warning echoed tauntingly through Zandra’s mind.
One day you’re the toast of the town. The next day you’re a pariah.

Shaking off the thought, Zandra gritted her teeth. “I think one of my father’s campaign rivals went to the media about me and the agency. I just turned on the news, and they’re doing a hit piece.”

“Oh, no,” Christine groaned in dismay. “Just what we need.”

“Tell me about it.” Zandra’s mind was racing. First and foremost, she needed to protect her escorts. “Listen, Chris. Reporters are probably en route to the office as we speak. I want you to send out a text and email to everyone to tell them to stay away from the office. And then I want you to transfer the phone lines to your private extension, lock up the building and go home.”

“In the middle of the week?”

“Yes,” Zandra said grimly. “Once the press hounds arrive, you probably won’t be able to get much work done anyway.”

Suddenly her apartment intercom buzzed, signaling that she had a visitor downstairs.

“I have to go, Chris. Call me when you get home.”

She ended the call, then walked to the front door and nervously pressed the intercom button. “Yes?”

There was a heavy pause. “It’s your father.”

Her blood ran cold. He was the last person on earth she wanted to see right now.

“What do you want?”

“We need to talk,” he said curtly.

“I have nothing to say to you.”

“But you might be interested in hearing what
I
have to say.”

Zandra frowned, staring at the intercom panel.

After several moments, he said levelly, “It’s important, Zandra.”

She closed her eyes and swallowed hard, then reluctantly pushed the button. “Come up.”

* * *

Remy had just strolled through the door of his downtown apartment when his cell phone rang. Setting down his suitcase—he’d only needed one, unlike Zandra—he dug the phone out of his pocket and saw Duke’s number.

He hit the answer button. “Talk to me.”

“You owe me big-time,” Duke growled.

“Why? What happened on your date?”

“It’s what
didn’t
happen that’s got me fucked up.”

Remy couldn’t help chuckling wryly as he walked to the windows overlooking Lake Michigan. “You’re talking in riddles, Gannon. Give me the shit straight.”

Duke heaved a short, ragged breath. “The date was last night. The escort was some hot little brunette named Brigitte.”

“Brigitte?” Remy frowned, not recognizing the name. Zandra must have forgotten to tell him that she’d finally hired Lena’s replacement, after months of interviewing candidates and finding fault with every last one.

“Yeah, Brigitte,” Duke muttered. “French spelling.”

“Gotcha. So what happened?”

“I’ll tell you what happened. I came on to her to see if she’d take the bait. Oh, she took it all right. Had me damn near begging for mercy by the time she got done with me.”

Remy pushed out a heavy breath, disappointment washing over him. “Fuck.”

“Yeah. That’s
exactly
what I wanted to do. Like you wouldn’t believe.”

“But you didn’t, right?”

“No,” Duke said with grim humor. “I was a good little boy and kept my dick in my pants. And it’s been punishing me ever since.”

Remy’s lips twitched with amusement, even as his stomach knotted at the implications of Duke’s report. It only took one wayward escort to bring down Zandra and her agency. He had to warn her. And he had to come clean about what he’d been doing. He owed her the truth, and the guilt was eating him alive.

“Anyway,” Duke grumbled, “I don’t think I’m the right man for this job.”

“Maybe not,” Remy said wryly. “Or maybe it’s just this one broad who pushed your buttons.”

Duke snorted. “Is that supposed to make me feel better? If so, it sure as hell didn’t.”

Remy chuckled, perpetually amused by Duke’s irascible temperament. “You can stand down, soldier. I’m putting this job on hold until further notice.”

“Good. Glad to hear it. Now if it’s all the same to you, Chief, I’m off to take another cold shower.”

Remy chuckled. “Don’t hurt yourself.”

Duke muttered a dark expletive before hanging up.

Remy grinned, shoving his phone back into his pocket.

But as he stood there contemplating the shimmering blue vastness of Lake Michigan, his amusement quickly faded. He knew what he had to do, but he dreaded the hell out of it. He didn’t want to hurt Zandra, especially after the amazing week they’d just spent together. She’d told him that she loved him, sending his heart into the damn stratosphere. Now that they’d reached this incredible new level in their relationship, he could never go back to being just friends with her.

Once she learned that he’d been secretly investigating her agency, he hoped and prayed that she’d understand his reasons and forgive him.

Because the alternative—living without her—was absolutely unthinkable.

* * *

Zandra didn’t offer her father a drink or invite him to sit down. She barely wanted to let him through the door. Of course, once he was inside, he helped himself to a chair.

She watched as he looked around the living room, his gaze landing on her mother’s paintings. Lightly at first, then returning to linger on each one. As he stared, something like pain and regret flickered in his eyes.

He’d hated being married to an artist. He’d hated having to share Autumn with her gift, resented the hours she’d spent painting instead of catering to him. He’d hated that no matter how viciously he ridiculed and brutalized her, she’d always found solace and healing through her painting. Even when he flew into a rage and maliciously destroyed her work, he couldn’t destroy the beautiful imagination that would fuel the next piece. Autumn’s gift was the only part of her he couldn’t conquer, and he’d always known it.

After her funeral, he’d gathered all her paintings and dumped them on the front porch, then called Zandra and told her to come pick them up. It was one of the few kindnesses he’d ever shown her.

She watched now as he swallowed visibly, then dragged his gaze from the familiar artwork to look at her. His eyes were unfocused and haunted, and for a moment she couldn’t tell whether he was seeing her, or her mother.

She waited for him to remember. Waited for the hatred and anger to slide back into place.

It didn’t take long.

“Well,” he said bitterly, “I hope you’re happy.”

Zandra didn’t sit down. She didn’t want to pretend that he was an invited guest, that this was a normal visit between a father and daughter.

She folded her arms across her chest, a defensive posture. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“Haven’t you been watching the news? The very thing I tried to warn you about is happening!”

Zandra’s lips twisted scornfully. “Am I supposed to care that your political campaign is in trouble? Cry me a damn river.”

His face reddened with anger. “You conniving little bitch. This is exactly what you wanted to happen.”

Zandra snorted. “Oh, yeah,” she mocked. “I
really
wanted to have my name and photo splashed across the news so that complete strangers can be titillated by the details of my personal life.”

“And whose fault is that?” Landis spat, raking her with a look of scathing contempt. “Running a prostitution ring. Screwing men in public restrooms. You’re a whore. Just like your mother.”

Zandra’s temper exploded. “
You bastard!
Stop calling her a whore! Despite the abominable way you treated her, she was
never
unfaithful to you! It’s not her fault you were too paranoid and insecure to handle being married to a beautiful woman. It’s not her fault that she couldn’t even make eye contact with another man without sending you into a jealous rage!”

Landis lunged to his feet and charged toward Zandra. Though her knees trembled, she stood her ground, chin raised defiantly.

He stopped just before her, jabbing his finger into her face. “You’d better mind your tongue, little girl.”

“Or what?” Zandra challenged. “You gonna beat me like you did that night just because I screamed at you to stop hitting my mother? You gonna take off your belt now and whip me senseless just because I told you to stop smearing her memory with that ugly word?”

He glared at her, nostrils flaring.

Zandra didn’t back down.

And then suddenly he smiled. A slow, malevolent smile that made ice congeal in her veins. “You’re really feeling yourself today, aren’t you? I wonder how you’re going to feel when I tell you that Mayor Norwood is the one who leaked the story about you to the media.”

Zandra frowned. “Why the hell should that matter to me?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe because your old friend Remington has been digging up dirt on you on behalf of the mayor.”

Zandra’s stomach lurched up into her throat. As the room spun around her, she stared at her father. “What the hell are you talking about?” she whispered faintly.

“Remington has been investigating your escort agency so the mayor can use it against me.”

Zandra’s hand flew to her mouth, but the cry of wounded disbelief had already escaped.

Landis smiled with vicious satisfaction. “That’s right, dear daughter. Your precious childhood hero has been betraying you behind your back.”

“I don’t believe you,” Zandra snarled.

Landis sneered. “Ask him. Ask him why he’s been secretly meeting with Norwood’s top campaign advisor.”

It wasn’t possible, Zandra told herself. Remy would never betray her like this. He couldn’t.

But she suddenly remembered the secret phone call he’d taken that night at her apartment. And she’d never been able to explain his sudden interest in dating her escorts.

Still, she resisted the damning evidence before her. Resisted the inner voice that reminded her she couldn’t trust her heart with any man.

She resisted all those things and lashed out at her father, “You’re a damn liar.”

His expression hardened. “You always think I’m lying to you.”

“Because you always have.”

He glared accusingly at her. “I know you still blame me for your mother’s death. You suspected me of the worst from the moment I called to tell you the news. I still remember the way you carried on when you came home from England. Asking me all those questions about where I found her body, interrogating me like I was a fucking murder suspect. Hell, if that spiteful woman had left a goddamn suicide note, you would have sworn I’d forged it!”