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Authors: M.A. Ellis

BOOK: DeeperThanInk
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Chad pulled into his parking spot and killed the engine.
He’d had his emotions pulverized before and it wasn’t something he wanted to
repeat. He knew that was part of the reason he hadn’t dated anyone more than a
few times over the past two years. He knew the other part of that explanation
was waiting for him upstairs. His heart beat a little faster and he threw his
door open and hustled along toward the elevator.

He had no idea how he’d find her and he wasn’t lying when he
told her he didn’t care. That she wanted to be there was enough for now.

But Chad remembered the soft adoring look Becca had given
him when she was getting ready to walk out his door that morning, how she’d let
the elevator doors close and disappear as she walked back and wrapped her arms
around his waist for one of her signature hugs. He knew for a fact she already
held a part of his heart. At this stage, only one question remained. Could he
trust her with all of it?

Chapter Six

 

If Chad had the house rigged with nanny cams, he’d be
laughing his ass off when he viewed the recordings. Becca practiced one sexy pose
after another. She’d draped herself over various pieces of his furniture until
the ridiculousness of it all took hold. She’d ended up perched on the arm of
his loveseat, dissolving in a fit of laughter.

It would look as if she was having a seizure on the
playback, but Becca hoped by then she would have figured out how to achieve
sultriness and have it look unplanned.

She had just pulled on a pair of Madden over-the-knee black
leather boots with four-inch heels when Chad texted. Her palms were actually sweating
when she picked up her phone and replied. What was she? Fifteen years old and
trying to figure out how to get the star point guard to kiss her under the
bleachers?

Her heels clicked across the hardwood floor as she practiced
strutting into his dining area. She stopped and cocked a hip, looking at her
reflection in the huge mirror he had propped against the wall. If he decided to
do her on his dining room table, they’d have a great side view.

The indigo-colored demi bra and low-rise panties rocked. Worth
every single penny. Becca patted her stomach, still pretty damn good for
spending most of her days sitting down and not getting to the gym as often as
she used to. She turned and looked over her shoulder, checking out the way the
boots hugged her legs. He’d like them. The big question was, micro-mini or not.
She’d brought over a black trench coat, too. Maybe she ought to throw it on and
pretend she’d accepted an impossible mission.

“That’s freakin’ brilliant,” she said aloud, rushing
carefully across the floor to grab the coat out of the hall closet. She put it
on and cinched it around her waist as she placed one foot in front of the
other, catwalk style. “I’m your mission, Chad. Should you choose to accept it,”
she said, practicing. Would he laugh? And would that be with her, not at her?

She hurried to the kitchen and shut off the overhead lights,
opting for the soft under-the-cabinet ambiance before hopping onto the kitchen
island. She rested her palms on the cool granite and leaned backward, thrusting
her breasts in his imaginary direction. “Good evening, Mr. Harrington.”

That sounded lame. She crossed then uncrossed her legs,
wondering which looked better. The one-bell signal sounded, alerting her that
the elevator was on its way up. She flipped her hair backward. “Welcome home,
secret agent man.”

Oh my god. Just go with “I’ve been waiting all night for
you to get home and bang me”.

That didn’t even go with the theme.

Becca heard the key turn in the lock and gave up. She undid
the coat, yanked it out from under her ass and tossed it aside, not caring
where it landed.

“Hey, baby. Where are you?” he asked in a tone usually
reserved for hide and seek.

“Kitchen.”

He rounded the corner, stopped dead in his tracks. Becca
didn’t have to force the sexy grin that parted her lips. His shock made her
brave.

“How was your day, handsome?”

Oh, yeah. Perfect.

He shrugged out of his suit coat and flung it toward the
counter. He missed it by a foot and Becca offered him what she hoped was a
come-and-get-me grin.

“Damn. I like that,” he said, walking up to her slowly
before pacing all the way around the island. “And I definitely like these.” He
ran his hands up the inside of her boots. He didn’t stop when his warm palms
hit her bare skin and he eased her legs apart but didn’t step closer.

That isn’t going to work
, Becca thought. How was she
going to seduce him if he was more than an arm’s length away?

“Great color,” he added. “And I’m really diggin’ this little
strip of un-inked skin. Right here.” He stroked the exposed strip of pale skin
between the top of her panties and the bottom of her torso sleeve and Becca
squirmed against the countertop.

“What’s this?” he teased, tracing it again but she had
already focused on not allowing it to tickle. He shifted his wrists and moved
his hands upward, the back of his fingernails flitting over her stomach then
her abs. He stopped just shy of her breasts and took a step backward. “I’ll bet
there’s somewhere else you’re sensitive.”

There was. Becca pulled herself into a more upright position
and gripped the edges of the counter. With exaggerated slowness she arched her
back, hoping he’d take the hint. Chad reached for his tie and slowly yanked the
knot loose. His hot gaze raked her from the top of her head to the tip of her
boots, her body tingling in the wake of his perusal. Her skin felt aflame and
her nipples tightened.

“See that’s just not fair.” He cupped her breasts and ran
his fingers over the satin, zeroing in on her hardened buds despite the light
padding that hid their exact location. “You look like a sixties pinup. Spank
bank material for sure.” He stepped to the island and offered her his mouth,
not kissing her, but just hovering an inch away. “How am I ever going to be
able to lean on this counter and read the sports section again without thinking
of this?”

If he wanted her to come to him, Becca would gladly oblige.
She brought their lips together then smiled.

“What’s so funny?” he asked without taking his mouth away.

“How much better you kiss now,” she teased, then buried her
fingers in the silky hair framing his angular face.

“I’m obviously an unbeatable teacher. Although I do think
you need a little more practice.”

“If you say so.” She covered his lips, challenging his
statement with a deep, open-mouth kiss that left them both breathless. She
looked into his blue eyes and began undoing his tie.

“Or maybe not,” he said, working the buttons of his shirt
free with amazing speed.

She reached out and ran her hands over his washboard abs.
She thought about seeing if he was ticklish, but that could wait. “What else
can you teach me?”

“Hmmm. You’ve showed your proficiency with the rudiments of
Latin this morning. And you’ve obviously learned my favorite method of
polishing this countertop.”

Becca smiled and reached for his belt buckle but he pushed
her hands away. She watched as he took off his belt and wound it around his
fist until it was a neat circle. She undid the closure on his slacks and slowly
pulled the zipper down. The whiteness of his briefs surprised her.

“Tighty whities? What happened to those hot boxers?”

“Not when I’m working. Like to keep the package nice and
tight. Plus, I’d hate to disappoint my mom if I were in an accident.” He
stepped back and put the belt on the counter then bent down and removed his
shoes.

Becca had a few moments of admiring the way his pants hugged
his ass before he stood up and they slid down his legs. He stepped out of them
and spread his arms wide, offering her sexy and silly all in one gesture.

“That’s right, baby. You know you want this.” He put his
hands on his waist and thrust his hips, his aforementioned package threatening
to break free from the cotton that contained it.

“You know I do.” Becca laughed, not realizing until this
moment how well humor and foreplay went together. Or maybe it was just Chad who
made the combination perfect. “It could only be better if you slid across the
hardwood and did the
Risky Business
dance.”

“You’re such a chick,” he replied, grabbing the ends of his
tie and pulling them back and forth as he Chippendaled his way toward her. “I’d
have gone with
The Full Monty
.”

“Hmm,” she replied, tapping her finger against her lips,
trying to keep a straight face. He was ridiculously sexy. And sometimes just
ridiculous. The mixture was melting her heart. “Enough talk, funny guy. Come
over here. A girl can’t wait forever, you know.”

“That depends what she’s waiting for,” he said in a husky
voice. “And how good her lover can make her wait.” He had her in his arms
before she knew it. His lips recaptured her mouth and the urgency of his kiss
rocketed her desire. “You’d like that. Wouldn’t you?”

Becca’s pussy pulsed at his words. Anticipation was a
healthy aphrodisiac and when he bent down and set her in the middle of his huge
leather ottoman her entire body began to thrum. Images of a woman riding the
edge between denial and release flitted through Becca’s mind. But it wasn’t the
woman at the club, the one suspended over the barrel. The woman was Becca. And
it was Chad who was lovingly denying her release.

Becca pulled her legs underneath her and rose to her knees.
If she was ever going to delve into a little kinkier lovemaking, it should be
with someone she trusted. But to come out and say exactly what she was
thinking? “I want you. Make love to me. Right here.” She couldn’t make her need
any clearer.

He hooked his thumbs in the waistband of his briefs and
pulled them away from his erection then down his legs. His cock was perfectly
curved, it touched his stomach and her mouth went dry as she remembered his
taste. Wetness slicked her folds. “Right now,” she added.

“We need to work on your control issues, my dear.”

Becca’s head shot upward and her pussy clenched, his choice
of words taking her straight back to the wine cellar at the club. Had he known
she had been thinking about that woman? Or that a part of her wanted to try
being tied up? To have her spread out before him on the ottoman, him rubbing
and licking and sucking until her entire body was quivering. And then have him
deny her release.

“Did you say that on purpose?” she asked, her voice wobbling
with desire.

Chad looked down at her. His mouth set in a firm line. “And
why would I do that?”

She didn’t want to play their usual back and forth game. She
inhaled deeply. “Because you think we can do what those people at the club
did?”

He took his time walking toward the end table, making a
production of turning on the lamp. Soft light filled the center of the room but
kept the corners dark. Her heart drummed and she wasn’t sure which was worse.
The brightness that would expose every hill and valley of her body or the
shadowy dimness at the outer edges of the room.

“Maybe not to that extreme since there isn’t a wine barrel
in sight but I’m a very quick learner. I know I can bring you to the brink of
coming. How long I hold you there is something we’ll have to work out.” Chad
turned back to her and pulled his tie free, holding it out to her with one
finger. He made it swing from side to side, just like the man at the club had
done with the vibrator and Becca’s clit started to throb.

“The choices are yours, Becca. They always will be. But
periodically, I’d like to give an order or two. Just to keep the playing field
level.”

Becca held his gaze, tried to keep her chest from rising and
falling too quickly. Her fingers twitched. He was willing to tie her down,
tease her. Did she trust him enough to do that? They’d shared a moment at that
club. She’d be safe with Chad.

She offered him her wrists. “Nothing crazy.”

“Nothing crazy,” he repeated. He took a step to the far end
of the ottoman. “Come here.”

Becca blinked at his order. It was a pure, unadulterated
command. She thought he’d just bind her hands and lay her down on the huge
leather surface. Tease her awhile. Then make her come.

“Now,” he said in a firmer tone.

Becca licked her lips. They suddenly seemed as if they were
on fire.

Control means ordering. Get over it.

She let her hands fall to her sides and crawled off the
ottoman. He sat down, spreading his knees and Becca stared at his cock, which
was less erect than it had been. It leaned to his right and she took an
anticipatory step forward. She hoped he’d order her to suck it back to
fullness.

“Go into my closet and pick three more ties.”

“Why would we need—” The words escaped her mouth before
Becca could stop them and she brought her fingers to her lips, knowing she’d
just fucked up.

“Disobedience. Not surprising.” His gaze narrowed and she
waited for the teasing sparkle to reach his eyes. It didn’t. But he leaned back
on one hand and wrapped the other around his cock, leisurely stroking. “If
we’re going to play. We need to do it right. No questions.”

Becca stared at him. “Have you been reading up on this
stuff?”

His gaze didn’t waver. “It’s going to be worse the longer
you stand here.”

Becca didn’t know what “it” was but she was torn between obeying
and wanting to find out. She hurried toward his room, the click-click-click of
her heels on the hardwood sounding like the upward climb of an old-fashioned
roller coaster. The same escalating anticipation was winding through her.

She opened the door to his walk-in closet and found his
revolving tie rack. Holy shit. Would it matter which ones she picked? Some of
them were probably expensive but she didn’t think he wanted her to take time to
check the labels.

He’d have ordered you to do that if he did.

Fuck. She grabbed three that were in the same burnt orange
color range as the one he’d been wearing and rushed back to Chad, running on
the balls of her feet until she reached the hardwood floor. Then she
straightened her spine and attempted a confident strut. She wanted to be
controlled, but not completely subjugated. There was a difference.

He had moved backward on the ottoman until the bend of his
knees were flush against the side.

“Put those next to the other ones and turn around.”

Becca dropped the ties onto the piece of furniture and spun
around in front of his knees.

“Not like that,” he said, wrapping his hands around her
upper thighs and guiding her backward, widening her stance as he did. “Legs
open.”

Two more steps and she was straddling his legs. Her thighs
pressed against his knees, the distinct creak of leather-against-leather as the
back of her boots rubbed the ottoman. The silky lingerie had gone from feeling
sexy to annoying. A rush of desire pooled low in her belly and a second later
wetness seeped from her pussy, making her dampened panties adhere to her
throbbing flesh.

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