Stare Me Down (Stare Down) (3 page)

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Authors: Riley Murphy

Tags: #Romance, #Figging, #submission, #bdsm, #Dominance

BOOK: Stare Me Down (Stare Down)
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He uncrossed his arms and leaned forward. “Why, you don’t like to be analyzed?”

“Correct.”

“Well, neither do I.” His tone dropped causing her adrenaline to rush until her heart fairly hammered with his next quiet words. “Are you going to answer me?”

Even though she knew what he was asking, she said, “I already did. I don’t like to be analyzed.”

“And I don’t like to be ignored or brushed off. Two things that you’ve managed to accomplish in less than fifteen minutes.”

She watched as he slowly dragged a hand across her desk before he smacked his palm sharply against the surface. The move was a clear imitation of a spanking. Was he warning her? The very idea had her tingling.

A man’s attention had never made her tingle. Ever.

Breathe Jaxx. Focus
. “I did not ignore you.”

“So you admit you brushed me off.”

She shrugged. She wasn’t going to lie. “Yes.”

His jaw didn’t exactly drop, but the side of his cheek ticked as if he were chewing on it. Poor guy. Woman no doubt collapsed at his feet without the least provocation.

A full thirty seconds went by and when he didn’t say anything she figured she better.

“Oh dear, are you okay?” She leaned forward and tapped his hand. “You don’t look well. Should I get the smelling salts or will we require a coroner?”

Chapter Two

His fixed gaze drilled into her and she stopped tapping when he asked, “Are you enjoying yourself?”

She was. She sat back, stunned at the revelation. She actually was. That never happened to her when she was with a man. Normally guys either bored her to tears or made her uncomfortable. He should be rubbing her the wrong way with his insufferable arrogance and yet, he wasn’t. The question was, why?

It had to be his unfailing confidence that wasn’t shaken by her intellect that held her interest. Hm. In a way, his massive ego was a great safety net as there was a certain amount of comfort knowing she didn’t have to dumb down to mollify him.

Quite simply? He was a challenge.

Unfortunately, he was also funny, smart and gorgeous which put her in over her head, challenge or not, because she was genuinely attracted to him. No matter how much she tried to tell herself otherwise. Shit. Her eyes shot up to his.

Double shit. His look sizzled with‌—‌was that lust? No guy had ever looked at her the way he was looking at her now. As if he wanted to devour her. How was that possible? A man like him? All Dom-buff and delicious, lusting after her kind of…‌what had he called her office? Studious? Yes, her kind of studious stuffy didn’t go with GQ BDSM. The two were as similar as chalk and cheese.

She tore her gaze away and whispered, “I’m sorry.”

“I’m not. You never answered me about Doctor Carmichael.”

“Maggie means well enough.”

“That’s what would have me concerned if I were you.”

The phrase, “He’s your patient and you can’t screw another one up”, played over in her mind until she was calm and focused once more. Straightening her shoulders she took a deep breath and slowly let it out, saying, “Not to worry. I’m taking care of it.”

“As well as you took care of the desk shim and the oscars?”

There were a thousand things she could have said, the most prudent being, “It’s none of your damn business”, but the words didn’t form. Instead she found herself admitting, “I’ll do better with Maggie.” She didn’t add that she had to. Just the thought of what she’d eventually have to face there had her stomach tied in knots.

“I find you interesting, Dr. Gavin.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. I think for the last two sessions we should analyze each other.”

“What?”

He nodded. “Yes, you set up these extra sessions to learn more about me, but I’m afraid the only way you’ll do that is if we do a Hannibal Lector. Quid pro quo, what do you say? It makes sense, right?”

“No.”

His smile nearly blinded her. “Sure it does.”

Heat‌—‌no, steam‌—‌fairly percolated beneath the surface. “I’m the therapist here. I’m supposed to be interested in you. It’s my job, even if I’m not feeling it, I have to…”

Silence. Oh, God. All she heard was the tick of the clock which sounded like the ominous countdown to a bomb going off. She’d nearly admitted that sometimes she had to feign interest in some of her patient’s problems. Not his, certainly, but—

“Yeah, that sentence wasn’t going to end well,” he whispered and searched her face so thoroughly her cheeks flushed in a hot and telling blush. She had to fight the urge to place her cooler palms against the searing skin.

Unmindful of her mortifying predicament he tilted his head and asked, “Is this why those two other patients complained about you?”

“How did you…?”

“You see? I already have a head start on the analyzing. I heard you and Doctor Drago‌—‌I mean Maggie having words in the hall earlier. It seems I’m not the only one who needs this paperwork completed and handed in to the court.”

“You were listening?”

He shrugged. “No one asked me to cover my ears and being that the walls are paper thin and Doctor Carmichael frequently over-talks you, it was hard not to. In fact, I’ll let you in on a little secret.” He leaned forward and continued in a mock whisper, “Your little group has a betting pool started. The odds are fifty-fifty. One half is betting you’re going to quit the profession and the other half has money on you slaying the dragon and sending her straight to hell.”

Jaxx should have been mad. Shocked. Moderately disturbed even, but she wasn’t. Truth was she was amused. The thought of a man like Ramsey Taylor being treated to her group of emotional misfits, as he called them, betting on something like this? Priceless. “And which way did you ante up?

“I make it a habit never to bet. Literally that is. I work too hard for my money to piss it away like that. So.” He arched a brow at her. “Was it a case of you not feeling them that has you on the bubble?”

“Of course not.”

There was no getting around this guy. And hang Maggie and her interfering. On the bubble? Great, now Ramsey knew Jaxx needed to have him complete the mandated sessions to qualify her as a fulltime “court approved” therapist. Attaining that stature was a near impossibility, given that she was mostly dealing with highly emotional patients who thought nothing about taking their imagined complaints of her qualifications back to her case manager. Thanks to Maggie stepping in to “help” she already had two complaints filed against her. One more and she’d be turned down for good. She should have just signed the papers and been done with him. Curiosity be damned. Too late now.

“All right. To get you to open up I’ll share a few things about myself, providing you sit on my
couch
and don’t try to analyze me.”

“I don’t want to sit on your
sofa
.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Lay on it then.”

“With you?”

She gasped. “I’m your doctor.”

“I could make a very accommodating patient given the chance.”

He winked at her, which was bad, but then what was worse? She blushed again and now he’d know she liked this kind of teasing. She had no business liking it. She was a professional for God’s sake.

“I am your doctor.”

“You’re good at that.” He was pointing at her face.

“At what?”

“Talking without moving your lips.”

One minute she was melting and the next she was ready to scream. Rip her hair out. Stomp her foot maybe, but then he stood.

“I’ll see you next Tuesday.”

She blinked and twisted in the chair. “Where—?” The phone rang and she snatched up the receiver and slammed it down. Maggie could wait for once, “—are you going?”

He was at the door and turned around. “Time’s up,” he said, tapping his watch.

“Oh.”

“I liked that,” he whispered, nodding toward the phone.

Warmth raced through her and the pleasurable sensation landed right between her legs in a tingling thrill. She did her best to appear normal and unaffected by it. “See you next week, then?”

“Yes, but now that I think about it, would you like to be surprised about the topics I want to cover in our next session when we analyze each other, or should I email you the list?”

“List?”

“No problem. I’ll send it along.”

She stared at the closed door for a second and then looked around. What the hell just happened here?
You got hijacked, that’s what
.

“Son of a bitch.”

Getting up, she walked around her desk and put a hand to the leather chair back. It was still warm from him. How did the guy manage to get to her? Every single time? His cologne surrounded the space, and she went to breathe in deeply but caught herself. What was she doing? Sniffing around after him like a…‌a—

“Careful, Jaxx,” she whispered and spun the chair out of her way. “He’s dangerous in more ways than one. You should have ignored your curiosity. Strangled it. Killed it. Not given into it by making him hang around you longer.” Yanking open the top drawer, she got out her cell and dialed the number as she walked to the fish tank.

“Tropical Sea aquarium service,” a voice trilled over the line.

“Yes, I need to speak to someone about some fish. Oscar fish.”

*****

Aries examined the collar. It looked beautiful against her flawless skin. He’d been smart to use a combination of metals. Although the design looked lacey and elegant, feminine, it was in truth a weighty reminder that she belonged to him. Drawing his index finger over the gold, silver and copper threads that knitted together in a complex web design, he smiled when she shivered.

She was warm, and the scent of her desire rode the short space between them, filling him with a satisfaction he hadn’t experienced in a very long time. He slipped two fingers under the metal and tugged against the band. Pulling until her head was forced back. He wanted her features out of the shadows, but the lighting changed and the ropes that held her in place tightened. The slight shift in position gave him a better view of her back. That expanse of skin was bathed in a pearly-white glow that highlighted the marks he’d made. The swirls of dusky pink impressions his flogger had meted out. Such a nice pattern.

He leaned down and kissed her shoulder. Then the center of her spine as his hand trailed down that solid line of her vertebra. Testing the texture of her skin. Chasing the prickles of gooseflesh away with the warmth of his palm. Until he reached her bottom. He wasn’t gentle as he massaged her ass. Kneading the firm mounds with a heavy hand prior to spanking her. Once. Twice. Three times before she listed forward.

“Ass out, beautiful. No shying away from me.” He stepped back and waited. “Good. Tilt it up. Very good. I love to see how eager you are to please me. I love—”

A beam of light flared and caught his attention. His heart raced, and blood flooded his cock in a rush of euphoria when he spied the ink. The phrase that was the unequivocal proof that she was his, permanently tattooed across her lower back.

He bent and just as he’d done with the collar, he traced his index finger over the words, silently reading them. “i belong to Ramsey Taylor. my Master, my Love, my Life.”

It was true. He was her everything, and the thought was exciting. Challenging. Humbling.

“You’re hot, aren’t you?” he whispered, squeezing the burning flesh of her ass. Waiting for her to nod before he let go. “Let’s cool you down.” He reached for two ice cubes out of the bucket on the floor and straightened. “These are going to be cold on you. Don’t move. Prepare yourself for it.”

She quivered and shook despite his order as he pressed the naked front of himself to her bare back. Wrapping his arms around her as he dragged the pieces of ice from her collarbone to her breasts. Circling her nipples in a series of easy slides until the peaks spiked harder than the ice.

“You’re a hot little whore. Too hot,” he said and just as he’d promised, he cooled her down. An inch at a time as he trailed the cubes along her rib cage, stomach, belly and hesitated over her shaved mound.

Her shivers only intensified and when her head lolled back against his shoulder, he tried to see her expression. To gauge what was in her eyes. To know what she was thinking, feel what she was feeling, but the pearly-white glow shuttered in successive flickers like the flash of a camera and he couldn’t see her face.

After a moment it didn’t matter, because she pushed back against him in invitation, and his cock was ready to accept. Both his hands descended between her spread legs. “So open and ready for this, aren’t you. God,” he breathed and used one hand to tuck both frigid cubes into her heat. Following their path deeper and higher until she flexed against his hand and moaned.

“Relax, I want them to stay put until I get my cock in you. Good. Ass up. Get it up. That’s right.” He gave one more press with his fingers and then eased out of her. “I can’t wait to tumble that ice once I drive into you.”

He lifted his cock and braced it right at her opening. “Fuck, you’re still hotter than hell down here. How is that possible? Do you burn for me, babe? To be fucked by me? Only me?”

He shifted and when he was met with resistance, he curled down and latched his mouth onto her neck. Sucking. Nipping. Biting until the tension eased and he was able to get into her. “That’s better. Open more for me. Yes. Let me‌—‌fuck, your pussy is hot and cold and tight. Beautiful,” he swore when her inner muscles clamped around him. Convulsing and gripping, as they worked to draw him in deeper and deeper until he experienced the chill of the ice. The scalding end of his cock nudging against the frozen water was heaven. Hell. Fucking excruciating one moment and totally comforting the next that his only thought was getting her to come so there’d be a new rush of heat added to the mix.

His heart thundered as raw lust barreled through him. It took all the effort he had not to give in to it as he pressed his lips to her ear and whispered, “I want you to let go and come all over me. Now.” He waited a few taut seconds. Wishing to Christ he could see her through the shadows. “Do it. I’m waiting.”

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