Bonding Camp (5 page)

“Thank you.” Lauren bent to retrieve her panties from the floor.

Justice stroked one firm globe of her bottom. “Why don’t you just leave those here?” He took the panties from her hand when she straightened. “I’ll have them sent to your room for you.”

“But—my meeting—”

He cut off her words with a kiss. She melted beneath his onslaught. When he came up for air, he caught her gaze with his.

“Your meeting with Morgan won’t require panties. Just remember, we’re bonding this weekend. Sharing our secrets. Getting to really know one another.”

He saw her swallow. “Don’t be afraid,” he assured her. “Morgan is a lot like me. I’m sure you’ll get along famously.”

She gave him a tentative smile. “Okay, but I’m still nervous.”

Justice turned her toward the bathroom. “Don’t be. Remember, we
want
you to join our little family.”

She flashed a smile over her shoulder at him. “And I want to join.”

He smiled and waved a hand at her to go on into the bathroom.

“Go on, freshen up.”

She nodded and entered the bathroom.

Justice blew out a breath and raked his fingers through his hair.

“One down, two more of us to go,” he said to himself. After the other two bonded with her, though, he was claiming her for his own.

He picked up the phone and called Rodgers. He instructed him on what to do with the paperwork then disconnected the call. Then Justice dialed Morgan’s extension. Best to let him know she was a little nervous.

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And it also wouldn’t hurt to let him know what Lauren’s preferences were, either.

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Chapter Six

Lauren straightened her dress, smoothing her hands down the front of her skirt. It felt a bit awkward to be going to a meeting sans panties. But if the situation was everything it seemed to be, it was a fantasy job come to life. How free she would feel if she could live her sexual fantasies never having to fear the content of them, or her actions, being revealed.

She looked at her reflection in the mirror above the sink. Her cheeks and chest were flushed pink, outward signs of the satisfaction and passion she had just experienced at the hands of Justice Cane. Her eyes even sparkled with an energy she hadn’t felt in years—or maybe ever.

She tapped the fingers of her right hand on the marble vanity top.

The facts as she knew them were: There was no way a prestigious firm like Cane, Moss, and White would risk their reputation for a sex scandal. They already had a contract in place in the event any corporate secret—because that’s what it would be, a corporate secret—was revealed. Five million dollars was a great amount of money, no matter how rich you were. And from the looks of the contract, it was airtight.

In other words, this bonding camp arrangement was the real deal.

Lauren smiled at her reflection. “Let it go,” she whispered. “Enjoy it. You’ll have the signed contract. Bond with them, and make some truly loyal friends.”

With a bounce in her step and excitement tickling her insides, Lauren returned to Justice’s office. He was sitting at his desk, looking over some paperwork.

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Feeling a bit adventurous, she approached him from behind and snaked her arms around his neck. She leaned in close and whispered in his ear, “Thank you for the lovely meeting.”

He chuckled. “My pleasure.”

“And mine,” she said.

He looked up at her, and she graced him with a quick kiss. “I have to go. I think I’m late already,” she said, glancing at the clock on the opposite wall. Sure enough, she was already ten minutes late for her next meeting.

“Get moving,” Justice said, giving her a little smack on the bottom as she headed for the door. “I’m having the signed contract sent to your room. And you are late. Morgan just may punish you for it.”

Then he winked.

A zing traced down her spine at the hint of punishment. “See you at dinner,” she said and rushed out the door.

Lauren had never met Morgan Moss, but she’d seen pictures of him in the newspaper. Known for his fierce style in the courtroom, his looks suggested he was equally fierce outside the courtroom.

She arrived at the door to his office, which was three doors down the hall from Justice’s. She raised her hand, hesitated, then knocked, saying, “Ah hell,” under her breath.

“Come,” the deep voice on the other side of the door said.

Lauren opened the door and stepped inside.

Morgan sat in an overstuffed leather chair facing the door.

Lauren’s blood thrummed through her veins. He looked sexy, dangerous, forceful. His black hair was loose, the ends brushing the shoulders of the crisp white shirt he wore, the front unbuttoned to his waist. The black slacks failed to hide the strong thighs and distinct bulge at the apex of his legs. His eyes, dark as night, gleamed with intrigue.

“Don’t just stand there,” he said. “Close the door and come closer so I can get a better look at you.”

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Lauren closed the door, her hand slipping on the doorknob. Her palms weren’t the only thing that had become wet. The way he spoke reminded her of the Big Bad Wolf and Little Red Riding Hood.

“Come here,” he said, crooking his finger. “I won’t bite. Unless you want me to.”

Lauren stepped forward, a smile beginning to form on her lips thanks to his little joke. Then she noticed the seriousness of his face and realized he wasn’t joking. She tentatively walked toward him.

“I’m sorry I’m late,” she said softly.

“As you should be.” His dark eyes flashed with danger.

Lauren stopped, her heart skipping a beat. “I didn’t mean to—”

“Hush,” he said with a wave of his hand.

She swallowed, unsure of what to do now. Maybe this was a mistake.

“Don’t be so shy, Miss Brooke.” A smile caressed his lips. “I’ve been informed you prefer the subservient role in our bonding.”

She let out her breath. “Yes.”

“You’ve been instructed on what we do, how we perceive each other at our firm?” One dark eyebrow rose questioningly.

“Yes. I have.” She clasped her hands in front of her, trying to look prim, which was very hard to do when such a sexy beast sat in front of her.

“And you are comfortable with our arrangement and wish to join us?”

She nodded. “Very much. I signed the contract and hope to be an asset to the firm.”

“Yes, I’m aware of the contract. It has been signed by all of us, and a copy has been sent to your room.” Morgan tilted his chin down and laced his fingers together in front of him, his elbows propped on the arms of the chair. “Do you have a secret you wish to bond us with?”

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Lauren hesitated for only a moment. Then she remembered the decision she had come to a while ago. She was in this all the way.

“I’ve always wanted…” Could she say it? Actually say it out loud?

“Yes?” Morgan asked, raising that eyebrow again. “Contrary to popular belief, I can’t read minds, Miss Brooke.”

“I’ve always wanted to be handcuffed,” she said, her words coming out in a rush.

* * * *

Morgan forced himself not to smile. Handcuffs. This prim, proper girl in the yellow sundress, who looked so innocent standing there in front of him, wanted to know the feel of steel bracelets securing her wrists while someone like him did whatever he wanted to her.

His shaft pulsed at the thought.

They all had their kinks, this motley crew who made up their law firm. Some liked bondage. Some liked to dish out a bit of punishment—nothing too harsh, mind you. No telltale marks would ever show in court, nor would anyone ever draw blood. Bonding camp was the safest place for you to be if you wanted to indulge in being punished or being the “punisher.”

There were also those who liked a taste of the same sex once in a while, or a bit of two-on-one matches, but didn’t want it broadcast to the masses. Then there were the fetishes, too many to name.

No matter what your pleasure was, there was always someone to satisfy you. It was the main perk of working at Cane, Moss, and White. No one harbored any sexual frustration. An active sex life was the basis of a happy life in Morgan’s opinion.

“Handcuffs, then,” he said. “I do believe I have a set. Or two.” He could swear she was visibly vibrating in anticipation.

He pushed himself up out of the chair and rose to his full height of six foot five. He reached out and cupped the back of her head in his
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hand and drew her to him. “Would you like to know one of my secrets?” he asked, liking the way her cheeks were flushed with heat.

“Tell me,” she said, her gaze locked with his.

He leaned down, placing his cheek against hers, his mouth at her ear. “I like it if you struggle just a bit. Put up a fight to make it interesting.”

She sucked in a breath sharply.

“Don’t worry,” he crooned, massaging her scalp with his fingers.

“If it becomes too much, just say the word ‘stop.’” He ran his tongue along the edge of her ear. She smelled wonderful, of warmth and sex.

“Are you willing to fulfill my desire as I am ready to satisfy yours?”

“Yes,” she said breathily.

His fingers tightened in her hair, gripping it. “Let’s see how much fight you have in you then.”

Lauren pressed her hands against his chest and pushed herself away.

Morgan laughed. The fire in her eyes was a deft touch. “It won’t be that easy,” he said, advancing on her. “I will have you.”

Lauren ran her tongue across her upper lip. She darted to the side.

Morgan caught her with one arm around her waist and lifted. She kicked her feet, jiggling nicely in his grasp. With his other hand, he nimbly grabbed the zipper on the back of her dress, and in moments he had the dress off her completely and flung the bundle of cloth across the room.

He laughed again, full and hearty. “Nothing beneath the dress.

How convenient.”

She let out a short, clipped scream, then an “oof” when he slung her over his shoulder, her bottom high in the air.

“Nice,” he said, running his fingers along the cleft of her rounded ass.

She kicked and quivered, an intoxicating combination. “Let me down,” she said, hitting him in the back with a fist.

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He gasped then smiled.
She will be wonderful at this
. Then he pushed through the door to his inner sanctum at the back of his office.

The room was dark and warm. Morgan flicked a switch along the wall, and soft recessed lighting illuminated what was otherwise a room painted completely black. A gleaming silver chain hung from the ceiling in the center of the room. Morgan reached into a built-in drawer and removed a set of handcuffs.

“Now, I’m going to put you down, and to save you from injury, you are not going to fight me for a few moments. Agreed?”

“Agreed.”

Morgan slid her off his shoulder.

She stood in front of him, wearing only a pair of yellow high-heeled sandals, her eyes glued to the set of handcuffs in his hand.

“Raise your wrists,” he said.

She raised her hands, and Morgan clipped the cuffs on her. He grabbed the chain holding the cuffs together and raised it then latched it inside the hook dangling from the chain on the ceiling.

“Are you in pain?” he asked, stepping away and removing his shirt.

The metal jingled with her movement. “I’m fine,” she said with a tremble in her voice.

Morgan looked at her and groaned. She was luscious, her long blonde hair cascading around her shoulders, her arms stretched high above her head, causing her teardrop-shaped breasts to jut forward.

They sat high and firm, with pale pink nipples standing erect like hard little pearls.

* * * *

Lauren trembled, the chill of the metal cuffs a stark contrast to the heat she felt at her core. She grasped the chain she was latched to in one hand and tilted her head back, her eyes still glued to Morgan’s dark gaze. Her position wasn’t uncomfortable, not yet anyway, but
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she wished she had thought to kick off her sandals. The high heels were stretching her calves. She hoped they didn’t cramp.

She ran her tongue over her upper lip and took a deep breath then twisted slightly as if she was struggling against her bonds. The movement caused her swollen breasts to bounce. She had to stifle a smile when Morgan’s nostrils flared and his shaft, which was at full attention, twitched as if it was straining to get to her.

Parting her lips, she watched him through half-closed eyes. His body was sculpted and massive.

Morgan moved toward her, his look determined. “Miss Brooke,”

he said, his voice a low rumble, “I think you are shaking.” He loomed beside her now. “Let me see…” He splayed one hand across her lower abdomen.

She gasped, catching her bottom lip between her teeth. The heat of his hand seared her skin, inciting her jewel box to become slickened with her cream.

“Are you afraid?” he asked, his lips against her ear, his other hand reaching to cup one globe of her ass.

The act. Nod your head,
a tiny voice inside her said.

“Y-Yes,” she answered, making her voice hitch.

Morgan groaned deep in his throat. The hand that was cupping her ass moved to the back of her head, and he pulled her head back by her hair.

Lauren let out a small yelp, unprepared for the quick movement.

Morgan’s lips found hers, crushing, claiming her mouth.

Lauren tried to turn her head, remembering her part to struggle with him.

He chuckled then drove his tongue past her lips at the same time the hand that was on her stomach slid down, parting her cleft. Then fingers—thick, hot fingers—drove deep into her wet pussy. His tongue thrust into her mouth, matching the rhythm of his long fingers inside her.

Lauren moaned, her knees becoming watery and weak.

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