I Brake For Bad Boys (4 page)

For a man like Ian, being a slave could prove a formidable task. Already she imagined the things she'd tell him to do, things that would excite him—but keep him from satisfaction. It'd be frustrating for her too, but at least she'd prove her point.

Who she'd be proving it to, she wasn't sure yet.

Thanks to a last minute snafu with an ancient air-conditioning unit, Ian found himself behind schedule. Only five minutes late, but he'd been looking forward to this all day, and he just knew Erica would try to give him hell about it. Thinking of the way her eyes burned green fire whenever she got riled, he grinned.

A few seconds later he strode into Wild Honey. He maintained a steady pace, but he didn't allow himself to rush. Given half a chance, Erica would have him wrapped around her little finger and no way would he allow that. He barely glanced up as he passed the checkout counter and the tables of books and magazines.

Erica wouldn't be loitering in the front of the store. No, the little witch would be in one of the fetish sections—and he knew exactly which one.

He found her standing in front of an aisle of domination wear, fingering a heavy leather dog collar with silver studs. Knowing her thoughts, he stepped up silently behind her and growled low, “Unless you want to end up wearing that thing, I'd suggest you put it back down.”

She'd been so lost in thought her whole body jerked with his first words. “Damn it,” she snapped even before whirling around to face him. The leather collar was gripped tight in her hand. “Can't you ever make a normal entrance?”

In contrast to her near shout, Ian's words were calm and quiet. “Into a porn shop? What would you consider normal?”

She scowled, then mumbled, “For such a big guy, you're awfully good at sneaking around.”

“Next time I'll clear my throat.” He deliberately made his tone patronizing enough that she couldn't possibly let it pass.

She didn't. Her brows drew down, her eyes glittered with annoyance, her mouth opened—and Ian leaned down and kissed her.

They were in the middle of a porn shop with a few customers milling around, but that didn't stop him. At the moment, a tornado couldn't have stopped him.

He'd thought about tasting her all day.

On the most basic level, her innate sexuality called out to him. Because he was a big man and could easily cause harm with his physical strength, he'd learned early on to control his reactions in all things. He kept an iron grip on his anger with men, and he tempered his sexual drive with women.

But with Erica, he had a feeling he could let loose in every way and she'd handle it—and him—just fine.

Focused on that fact, he curved his hands around her neck and used his thumbs to tip up her chin. Her eyes widened just before he took her mouth the way he'd wanted to take it since first meeting her.

A small, very feminine sound escaped her and a heartbeat later she went soft and warm. He watched her thick black lashes drift shut, felt her hands curve against his chest. The hard leather of the collar she still held dug into his left pectoral muscle.

Her lips were full and soft and opened more to allow the slide of his tongue. There was no gentle prelude, no tentative exploration. In so many ways, he'd been thinking of Erica as his since the moment he'd learned what she and her friends had planned. The reality of having her here now, soon to be his in fact as well as fantasy, was almost more than he could survive.

He kissed her deeply, loving the hot, damp taste of her mouth, the way she kissed him back, her expertise. The sound of their accelerated breathing echoed in his ears. Damn, he was a hair away from losing it.

He pulled back the tiniest bit, saw the excitement and reciprocal urgency on her face, and kissed her again.

The collar dropped to the floor.

Because they weren't alone and he didn't want her to suffer any regrets, he eased away, releasing her slowly, pressing small damp kisses to her chin, her cheek, her throat. “This way,” he murmured, and carefully stepped her around the forgotten collar.

With a naturalness that normally came from long association, she nestled into his side. He kept his arm around her, his hand curving over her shoulder. In his opinion, she fit against him perfectly.

For the moment, she seemed docile enough.

A smile tugged at his mouth, but he resisted it. If he laughed now, Erica would not only go back for the collar, but probably a leash as well.

“What are we doing?” she asked when he stepped up to the back counter where an array of oils, exotic scents, and lotions were displayed.

“Making a few purchases.”

“But I haven't decided what I want yet.”

He knew what
he
wanted, so again, he smothered his satisfied grin. “It's your day, right?”

Wearing a suspicious frown, she nodded.

“So I figured I should pamper you.”

One brow rose. “Pamper me how exactly?”

“How's dinner, a massage, and a long bubble bath sound?”

“Like heaven, but what's that got to do with sex?”

He almost said,
You're kidding, right?
but then he saw she was serious. Damn, but she must have been with a bunch of losers if she didn't understand the pleasure in setting the mood and indulging in extensive foreplay.

He gave her his own frown while carefully deciding how to word his answer. “Sex is best when both people are totally into it. I want you to be as comfortable and satisfied as possible. We're getting together during dinnertime, so I want to feed you. You've worked hard all day, so I want to relax you. Anything sexual you want, anywhere along the way, you just say so and believe me I'll be more than happy to oblige.”

“You think so, do you?”

More bluster. He'd taken her by surprise, so naturally she got defensive. It was odd, but as often as not, Erica touched his heart as much as his libido.

He stroked his hands over her glossy black hair and lowered his voice more. “Erica, there isn't anything you can ask me to do to you or for you that I won't enjoy. I thought you already knew how much I want you.”

The signs of arousal were easy to see on her face; the color in her cheeks, her expanded pupils, her parted lips. Still, the words from her mouth weren't encouraging.

“And if I want to watch you squirm? If I want to see how you deal with waiting?”

If he didn't know her so well, Ian might have been duped. But he did know her and the little darling wanted him, she just wanted to see how far she could push. Well, two could play that game—but only one would win, and he already knew when the night was over, Erica would be his.

He touched her mouth with his thumb. “I've been waiting months already. I can survive a few more days.” Turning away, he picked up a small decorative bottle of massage oil. The label claimed properties that would leave your skin tingling and your nerve endings alive. Erica was such a sexy little thing, he doubted he'd need the oil, but maybe . . .

Erica snatched it out of his hand. “What do you mean you've been waiting months?”

Except for one quick, questioning glance, he kept his back to her. “The day I first saw you, I wanted you. There hasn't been a minute since that I
haven't
wanted you.” He fingered a massage mitt—some fuzzy contraption far too small for his hand—then moved on to the bubble bath. He could feel Erica standing just behind him, befuddled, annoyed, brimming with nervous uncertainty that she'd do her best to hide.

He gave her half a minute to mentally chew on what he'd said before facing her again. When he stared down at her, she met and held his gaze by sheer force of will. She had guts, his Erica, and he admired her more every moment he spent with her. “Sometimes I wonder if I'll ever stop.”

She swallowed. “Stop?”

“Wanting you.” Then he shrugged, dismissing the moment of heavy sexual tension and again turning back to the products. “But we'll work that out this weekend.” He handed her the bubble bath.

She accepted it automatically. “Work what out?”

“How we really feel about each other.”

“Bu-but that's absurd!”

“Stammering?” He draped his arm around her again and headed them both toward the checkout. “Not at all. I like you a lot, but it's hard to say how much when all I can usually think about is getting inside you.”

She stumbled and would have fallen if he hadn't caught her.

“Wait a minute.” Annoyed, she tried digging in her heels.

He kept walking, sweeping her along with him. “I have only so much patience, honey.”

“But . . . what is this about a weekend? We're getting together for one night and one night only.”

He snorted, but otherwise kept his thoughts to himself. She sounded panicked enough without him telling her why he needed a whole weekend. One way or another, he'd convince her, once he got her alone.

“Damn it, Ian, I am not committing the whole weekend to you.”

She could really dent his ego if he let her. Not that he would. He said only, “Why not? I figure it'll take me at least that long just to get used to seeing you in my place.”

“Yeah?” Like a dog on a bone, she jumped on that. “Well if you don't want me there, then . . .”

“Oh, I want you there all right.”

“Blast it, Ian.” She jerked to a halt, forcing him to do the same.

“What's wrong now?”

In typical Erica fashion, she tossed her head, sending her silky mane of hair to fall behind her shoulders. “You keep throwing out these obscure comments in between insulting me and threatening me.” Her nose lifted. “I don't know that I want to spend a whole weekend with you.”

Ian took in the sight of her, from the determined tilt of her head to the bold fighter's stance. “Look at it this way,” he whispered, “there's a whole lot of bossing around you can do in two and half days. We both know you'll enjoy that.”

“But you won't.”

“Wanna bet?” He had her flustered, not that he minded. Gently, he relieved her of the oil and bubble bath. She stayed there in the center aisle while he paid for their purchases. With the bagged items in one hand, he again drew her close and led her out the door.

The late afternoon sunshine glinted off her hair, highlighting the blue-black depths. When he started to lead her to his car, she again balked. “I have my car with me.”

“I thought we'd ride together.”

“No way. You said it yourself—I should be able to leave when I want to.”

She had him there. “All right. Would you like to follow me to my place, then?”

“Do you need to stop for groceries?”

Shaking his head, Ian said, “No. I have everything I need already at my apartment.”

She looked skeptical, but didn't cavil. “All right. I am curious to try out these culinary skills of yours.”

“I promise you won't be disappointed—in anything.” Silently, they walked to her car across the scorching pavement. Ian waited while she unlocked the door and rolled down the window to let in fresh air, then he said, “Erica?”

She dug her keys out of her purse, pretending to ignore him, which was absurd considering every line of her body bespoke her awareness. “Hmmm?”

“You're going to enjoy yourself, you know.”

He'd meant to reassure her, but apparently he hit a hot button. She slanted a narrow-eyed look at him over her shoulder, then slowly turned to him in full battle mode. Her voice was low and mean and sarcastic. “Oh, I'll enjoy myself all right. After all, I'll have you at my beck and call, tending to my every whim . . . right?”

He loved her like this, all prickly like a hedgehog, full of feminine challenge. Because he couldn't help himself, he smiled the tiniest bit. “Okay.”

His easy agreement only annoyed her more. Her mouth flattened and her brow beetled. “If I stay the whole weekend—”

She was staying, all right. One way or another, he'd make sure she did.

“—then prepare yourself, because you'll be seeing the real me.”

Curiosity rose in tandem with anticipation. “Meaning?”

“Meaning I don't always look like this.” She indicated her face, hair, and chic clothing. “When I'm at home relaxing—my home or yours—I like to be comfortable. That means no makeup, no polite work manners. No frills.”

No clothes,
he silently added.
And even better than that, no inhibitions.

Ian's smile widened though his voice remained infinitely gentle. “I have a very strong constitution, Erica. I think I can handle it.”