Burn With Me (14 page)

Aziza wasn’t sure. But she couldn’t seem to stop herself. “What would you do after that? How would you get me to talk? To tell you whatever you wanted to know?”

She could hear the deep rumble as soon as it started in his chest. It made her blood heat. “Tell me, Brandon.”

“There is no
if
about it. You
are
dangerous. And I’m confused.” He moved closer until she could feel her breasts brushing against his shirt. “I thought you wanted to leave.”

“I did,” she assured him, her hands lifting to land on his stomach, feeling the ridge of muscles there and wishing she could lick them. “I do. I definitely do.”

Brandon raised the curved fingers of one hand to her cheek, tracing the line her tears had taken when she’d realized her friend was back to normal. It was a tender gesture. Unexpectedly gentle.

“Do you want me to leave right away?” she asked.

His response was swift and emphatic. “No.”

She took her hands off his body with a moment of regret for the loss of contact and lifted her arms in the air, clasping the handcuffs teasingly with the tips of her fingers. “Then show me how you’d make me talk.”

He inhaled sharply, his features, for a moment, looking more primal—animal—than human. A predator scenting his prey. “Don’t move.”

She kept her arms above her head as he disappeared from her line of sight. She could hear the scrape of metal against metal when he lifted the low bench from the far wall and carried it over, setting it down behind her. She’d have to stand on it, she realized, to fit into the cuffs hanging from the ceiling. She started to turn, but his words froze her in place.

“This is my interrogation, Aziza, and I told you not to move.”

“Yes, sir.” She shivered again. Visibly shaking and he hadn’t even touched her yet. Brandon moved to stand in front of her once more and lowered her arms down to her sides.

“You should think about this, you know,” he informed her. “I should think about this. Hell. The fact that I’m even considering…”

His words slowed to a halt when she shook her head of hair, still wild from her adventures, and her trembling fingers started working on the corset that now seemed too tightly laced for her to catch her breath. “You should take my advice and stop thinking. It ruins everything.”

“Keep it on.”

She froze and smiled in question. “Because you like the corset? Or because you’re not interested anymore?”

“I like it. And you are trouble,” he groaned, gripping her hips and lifting her onto the bench.

From this position she was still barely a head taller than he was, and the chains would still make her body stretch to keep her feet on the bench. Perfection.

She watched as Brandon reached behind him and tugged his shirt over his head, realizing she might have used that word too soon.
He
was perfection. A mountain of a man carved from rock, just for her. A body etched in hard, jagged edges, awe inspiring to gaze upon, and something she wanted desperately to climb.

His tattoos were just as impressive. More than the usual tribal designs, the dark ink that covered his skin from his chest, over his shoulder and down to his elbow seemed to emanate power, its stylized symbols swirling around his flexing muscles like artistic armor.

She licked her lips, pouting when he didn’t take off his jeans.

Brandon noticed and gave her his first genuine smile. “You don’t have a lot of patience, do you?”

Aziza tilted her head, as if in consideration. She kicked off her shoes and—pulling him closer to use his bare shoulder for balance—slipped her leggings down and off her legs. “I suppose that’s true. I think I got out of the habit.”

She’d spent the last two years living in the moment, knowing she was going to die. There wasn’t time for patience. “Please don’t tell me you’ll make me wait. I’m not in to delayed gratification…and no one likes a tease.”

He took a breath and began to walk around the bench, taking her in. She saw him shake his head in wonder. “
Where
have you been hiding?”

She rubbed her hands together and winked. “Is this the first interrogation question? I’m not even handcuffed, but I’ll answer. America. Dallas. More specifically, a land called Plano. As in
plain
and
old
. Ask me another one. I promise to resist this time so you can feel like you really had to work for it.”

Brandon was silent as he walked directly up to her and dragged her long-sleeved shirt down her shoulders, stretching the fabric. She helped him, pulling her arms out of the sleeves until they’d pushed it down beneath her breasts. They couldn’t take it off completely because of the stiff material of the corset around her waist.

He didn’t seem to mind.

He studied her for a heartbeat, then lifted her arms until the cool iron grazed her wrists and she sighed in pleasure. He hesitated for a moment, then another, before closing the cuffs around her wrists with a definitive
click
. They were rough, but they weren’t tight. In fact, she had a feeling he’d never had a female in here before. These restraints weren’t made for delicate wrists. A man like this wouldn’t hurt a woman. No matter what she was.

“I don’t think you’re taking this very seriously,” Brandon mused. “I’ve had this problem before. I must have a face that creates overconfidence in my prisoners.”

Her laugh was more of a whimper. “No, you don’t. Have you seen you? Trust me on this one, everything about you is very intimidating.”

And sexy. And irresistible.

He shrugged. “Whatever the case, as a rule, if my initial presence doesn’t intimidate my prisoner, I do something guaranteed to ensure they understand the severity of their situation.”

Just hearing him talk like that had her squeezing her thighs together in anticipation. “Like what?”

His voice lowered and he leaned into her, speaking against her skin so his lips grazed her flesh. Her breasts. Her neck. “First, I would tell them there was no chance of escape. The key is out of reach. The room is soundproof and only a select few know of its existence.”

A thrill of alarm joined the fire of her arousal. “And then?”

His lips still lightly caressing her skin, Brandon’s hands lifted to join the exploration of her body. He gently traced her bare nipples with his fingertips, scraped his nails along the inside her thigh, her hip. “I would tell them I was in control. The only way out would be to give me what I want. We would go over it again and again. There would be no rest, no stopping until I was satisfied. No release until
I
gave them permission.”

“Oh God.” She wanted to give him what he wanted. Desperately wanted to satisfy him. “I’m sorry, but I don’t think I’m going to be a challenge for you to interrogate.”

“A shame, truly.” She could hear amusement mixed with the gravel and lust in his voice. “Because I would only begin the physical aspect of my interrogation if I discovered that simple conversation would not produce the results I seek.”

He tugged her underwear down to the middle of her thighs but no farther. She tried to bring her legs together enough for her panties to drop to the bench, but he was waiting for that. “No. Keep them spread just like that. Wider. No matter what happens, I want that pretty scrap of lace to stay right there. Do you understand me?”

“I do.”

“That’s good,” he groaned. “You have no idea how enticing you are right now. Panties at your knees, that tight fucking contraption around your waist doing nothing to cover what I want. Tied up and chained. Wrapped in a bow for me.”

“Wow,” she inhaled sharply. “When you start talking you don’t kid around.”

The perfect man.

What she didn’t understand was how she could feel more vulnerable like this than she would if she were completely naked, but she did. With everything but her breasts covered above, and her underwear stretched tightly against her thighs, she’d never been more exposed. “What now?”

“Now we see how well you can follow instructions.” He bent his head, nuzzling her breast and taking a nipple gently into his mouth. One hand reached around her to grip the curve of her ass, while his other slid between her legs. She’d been waiting for that. Waiting for him to touch her again.

This time it wasn’t just one finger. This time he explored her with his mouth. His hands. Learned what she liked. What she responded to. That she loved hard pressure on her clit and wanted the lips of her sex to be caressed. He didn’t slip a finger inside her, no matter how much she wanted him to. How much she ached. Didn’t sink his teeth into her skin, no matter how much the light kisses drove her mad. But even though he resisted, it didn’t take long before she was moaning and rocking her hips against his hand, calling out his name, desperate to come.

Desperate to feel him inside her. “Damn it, you
are
a tease.”

He lifted his mouth. “Are you ready to share your secrets?”

Yes!

“I’ll never talk, Copper,” she taunted breathlessly. “You may as well keep torturing me until I scream. Give me more.”

He smiled against her skin. “You are still refusing to take me seriously.”

“I am,” she promised. “I swear I am taking you very seriously. I seriously want you to take me.”

“Then tell me. Tell me that you want to be fucked.”

His words thrilled her. Made her gasp. “I want to be fucked.”

“Beg me.” Brandon’s words were harsh. “Say
my
name
and beg me to fuck you.”

She was far too turned on to hesitate. “Please, Brandon. Please fuck me, Brandon.”

“Do you want it badly enough, Aziza? I don’t think so. You obviously need more coaxing.” His breathing was harsh against her breast. Her sensitive nipples reacted as if he were stroking them with his tongue. “I don’t have enough chain for what I want to do to you. I’ll have to use my—”

The impatient banging and jingling of the doorknob cut him off midsentence. “Fucking—
shit
.”

No!
She wanted to scream it. Wanted to stomp her feet and throw a genuine, Texas-sized hissy fit but he looked at her and placed a finger over his lips as if to silence her before she could start. 

“Are you
shushing
me? I thought you said this place was soundproof.”

“It is. For most people.” He reached up to release her from her bonds, tugged her underwear back in place and started grabbing for the rest of her clothes. “But it’s not secluded enough. I never imagined that I—that you would—” He cursed and punched his fist against the metal wall, creating a small dent in the process. “This is a damn cock-up all around, isn’t it? I don’t know why I brought you here in the first place. Why I let you distract me.”

She struggled to slide her arms back into her shirt. “I take it back,” she breathed. “Maybe talking and you really don’t mix. Way to ruin a good memory for me,
Mr. Nash
. Usually the regrets come
after
the hot, sweaty stranger sex.”

“Have some experience with that kind of regret, do you?”

“I do now.” Aziza’s fingers fumbled with her buttons and she swore. “I didn’t ask to come here, you know.”

“I know, damn it, and I am sorry but you need to hurry.” He pulled his T-shirt over his head, still refusing to look at her. “I’ll take you back to your Jinn and you can forget all about this. He’s the same one you were with in the garden, isn’t he? The one your friend said was climbing the walls? We don’t want him getting the wrong idea.”

She’d been dragging up her leggings when his words registered. She looked around the room and snarled in frustration. “I need something to throw at you. Couldn’t you have added an iron vase to the décor? I don’t think any jury on the planet would convict me after this. No one likes to be called a whore.”

“I’m not—”

They heard the knock again. “Brandon?”

It was a woman. Her voice was muffled by the thickness of the door, but Aziza could still hear her. “I’ve been looking all over for you. Where have you been?”

He took one look over his shoulder at Aziza’s face and the anger in his expression was replaced with chagrin. “I can see what you’re thinking,” he whispered. “But you’re wrong.”

“
I’m
wrong,” she repeated. “You didn’t just play with me then basically accuse me of being a slut? That
isn’t
a woman that I’m pretty sure you don’t want to find out about me knocking on the door? How am I wrong?”

His hesitation was her answer. She slid her fingers into her corset pocket and pulled out the small iron key, tossing it to him. “Here. Who am I to judge, right? I’ll hide in the corner and pretend I’m just another whipped prisoner until she’s out of earshot. And then you’ll get me a cab.”

Brandon glanced toward the door for a minute then raised his voice loud enough for Aziza to flinch. “I will call you when I’m done, Natalie. Leave now. That’s an order.”

The silence was deafening. It felt like hours but Aziza knew it had barely taken the woman a minute to respond. “Understood.”

She knew. The poor girl. She knew she was being cheated on. “I’ll call you when I’m done” suddenly sounded like code for “go away, I’m having sex”. How could he do that to her? Boss her around like that? That wasn’t the kind of man he seemed to be. But then, she didn’t really know him at all.

“You’ve got her fooled,” she muttered. “She probably doesn’t know you spend all your free time following other women. What a disappointment.”

Brandon moved closer until he was towering over her, everything in his manner intimidating, except his voice. “Listen to me carefully,” he whispered. “I don’t
know
why I brought you here, because the others—the
them
police I’m a part of?—this place belongs to them. Us. It didn’t even cross my mind one of them would be nearby. It should have, but it didn’t. I just wanted to get you in here so I’d know there was nothing and no one but the two of us in the room. No one watching. I’m an idiot.”

“So she’s…?”

His reaction was adamant. “
Not
mine. A friend. A fellow Enforcer who, like the others, will sense what I did with you. Will follow your unique scent. And no, none of them have any idea you exist, because I didn’t report you. In fact, I haven’t reported in at all since I saw you the other night. Which could explain why Natalie was on the lookout for me.”