Sweet Backlash (7 page)

"Join me?" he asked, sitting
cross-legged the setting his plate on his knee. His position
provided a clear view of all his most interesting parts.

The pressure began to build between
her legs again. Sitting near him, studying his body, would heighten
her anticipation of his reward. It thrilled her. After fetching her
breakfast, she returned. She was about to embark on a new and
exciting journey. It scared the hell out of her, and turned her on
like nothing ever had. "Okay, but only because I need to talk to
you about something."

He picked up and sniffed a strawberry.
"I'm fascinated."

He seemed honest in his interest, and
she took encouragement. Settling in front of him, copying his
position, she gazed into his eyes and took a sip of coffee. "I have
decided to reward you for your good behavior." She dipped a
strawberry in her cream cheese and inserted the tip into her mouth.
She wrapped her lips around it to catch any juices, and
bit.

He stared. His lids dropped slightly
and his lips separated. His reaction filled her with a surge of
power and told her she still maintained control. Lowering her eyes
to his mouth, she licked her upper lip and said,
"Delicious."

"Yeah," he breathed, though he had not
yet eaten a thing.

She smiled despite herself. "Eat.
You're going to need your strength."

He arched his brows and ripped the
green stem from his berry. He popped it in his mouth with gusto.
When he swallowed, he said, "You've got my full
attention."

"We're due for some fun," she said,
putting more cheese on her fruit. Her heart began to pound and her
stomach fluttered, sapping some of her appetite.

"I'm with you," he said with a nod,
dunking part of his roll into his coffee.

She repeated her performance with the
strawberry and he froze, devouring her with his gaze. A shift
between his legs made her glance down. His cock had lengthened. In
the past, her partners had never gotten excited just watching her.
She had to frighten them, inflict pain, or intimidate them to get a
reaction like that.

With her eyes on his hardening shaft,
she whispered, "I want to taste you."

Like magic, his penis doubled in size.
"It's not fair that you get to see me but I don't get to see you,"
he said, his voice tight.

What was that supposed to mean? "I
want to touch you. Give you pleasure."

"I want to see you," he insisted with
quiet force.

It hit her that he asked her to
undress. "This is
your
reward," she reminded.

"Then reward me by taking off your
clothes. Let's be naked together."

Definitely stubborn. "Give up,
slave."

His lips spread in a wolfish grin, and
he ate another strawberry whole.

"You're not going to protest about
being called slave?"

"As long as you don't change your
mind, you can call me anything you like. Just come
here."

She barked a laugh without meaning to.
Shaking her head, she said, "You make it sound so simple. But with
me, nothing's simple."

"I'm learning that. Tell me, why isn't
this simple?" He took the other half of his croissant and dipped it
into his coffee. His calm demeanor contradicted his obvious
arousal.

Not sure how he would take it, she
took a deep breath and blurted, "I can't let you touch me. If we're
going to do this, I have to have total control. That means I need
to bind you."

He filled his mouth with the rest of
his breakfast and slowly chewed. She could tell she presented him a
challenge. When he swallowed, he didn't speak right away. He stared
at her through slitted eyes before asking, "You're giving me a
choice?"

"Of course." Once again, guilt sliced
through her. He hadn't asked for any of this.

"You want to hurt me?"

"No. I want to pleasure you. I want to
learn your body." He seemed so skeptical yet he asked questions,
and that made her optimistic. He wasn't saying no.

"How can you tie me up and not hurt
me? I don't like the idea." He set his plate aside and moved his
coffee at arm's length.

Melony nodded. This was new to him. He
didn't know about bondage. "I use a Japanese method called Shibari.
The emphasis is placed on sensuality. The ropes caress as I apply
them. My goal will be to provide you a feeling of freedom within
the binding. You'll be able to move. Bend. I promise."

He thought for a moment. She held her
breath, willing him not to turn her down. For her, this could be a
once in a lifetime opportunity to explore her sexuality with a man
she actually liked. Actually shared an attraction with. He offered
her a chance to escape her past, and he didn't know it.

"What if I don't like it? What if I
change my mind?"

She filled her lungs with coffee
scented air. "We don't usually use 'don't' or 'no' because of role
playing. But we're not role playing, so you can say 'stop,' 'slow
down,' whatever. I'll listen and respect your wishes."

He chuckled and shook his head. "You
know, Melony, if a woman had told me she wanted to tie me up and
have her way with me before all this happened between you and me,
I'd have said no without hesitation. But you…" He shook his head
again. "I don't know why, but I trust you. You're amazing with that
whip. You're the sexiest woman I've ever met, and if I have to put
up with some ropes to get your hands on me, I'll take it. Let's do
this thing. How do we get started?"

Suddenly shy, but not about to let him
on to her discomfort, she maintained eye contact and asked, "You
want to take a shower?"

Chip leaned forward. "Like you can't
believe."

Trembling at the idea of setting him
free so early in his stay, she scooted away. She pictured him
coming out of the shower and grabbing her by the throat, forcing
her to her room—.

Don't do this to yourself. He's not
like that.

She forced the negative thoughts from
her mind. If he said he trusted her to bind him, she could give him
the benefit of the doubt. She had skill with weapons she kept in
every room to defend against an attack. She wasn't naive and
helpless anymore.

"I'll release you from the bar and
show you where to find everything."

Chip let stinging hot water pelt his
back. Freedom felt good, and he had to admit, he had a new
appreciation for it after last night. Hanging his head, he tautened
those stiff muscles to receive the best benefit from the
therapeutic heat and pressure. He saw no hint of the welts Melony
had dealt. She had impressive skill. Even after a night in cuffs,
he had no marks.

As the shower beat against him, he
thought of his family. His parents, though busy with the Albemarle
art gallery and custom framing shop, in addition to their charity
projects, had worked hard to give him and his sisters the best
upbringing. He pictured his dad, and the look on his face if he
could see his son right now. No, he wouldn't understand.

For that matter, Chip hardly
understood. He'd never met anyone like Melony—all messed up and
beautiful, vulnerable and unbending at the same time. He came from
a close, well-adjusted family. Though they hadn't been rich, they
hadn't wanted for much, either. All his friends and colleagues
seemed to come from similar or better backgrounds, so Melony
presented a mystery. A mystery he wanted to crack.

Turning, he threw back his head and
gave the pounding water access to his neck and chest. Aah. So good.
As he began to truly relax, he wondered what Melony did while he
bathed. Did she put clean sheets on her bed and light candles? Did
she put on romantic music? Or did she get naked? She hadn't come
right out and said she wouldn't. He imagined her kneeling on the
bed, massaging her gorgeous breasts and waiting for him. His
johnson sprang to life and the sack underneath tightened with
delicious pressure. Damn, the woman had him hot and
ready.

In a rush, he soaped, rinsed, and
stepped from the stall to dry in a flurry. On the counter sat a
toothbrush still in store packaging and an unopened tube of
toothpaste. He smiled. So involved in the relief of the shower, he
hadn't even noticed her come in to leave them. Not wanting her to
wait too long and possibly change her mind, he got busy getting his
mouth ready for serious kissing.

Finally, he checked his reflection,
used his fingers to put his hair into at least some semblance of a
neat arrangement, and went to the hallway. A bedroom waited to the
left, and he took a step in that direction.

"Chip?" she called from out of sight
to the right. "If you're finished, come to the living
room."

A public room? Interesting. Heading in
that direction, he decided he liked spending all his time naked in
her apartment. He almost laughed in remembering his mother telling
him time and again about how much trouble she had with him taking
his clothes off when he was a toddler. He guessed he hadn't changed
much.

He slowed as he passed through a
corner of the kitchen and stopped before touching the carpet of the
living room. She'd been busy. The sofa stood open, its bed made
with the finest cinnamon-colored linens issuing from its innards to
fill half the conservative space. Over the back, two coils of rope,
one russet and one brown, draped in menacing promise. An exotic,
pleasant aroma perfumed the air from two large, unlabeled candle
jars sporting dancing flames. A quiet, sweet, lilting melody from
oriental-sounding instruments seeped into the ambiance, enhancing
the mood.

As if thrust into a dream, Chip passed
onto the carpet and entered a sensory experience. The fibers under
his feet cushioned with silky softness. Running fingertips across
the turned down sheet, he discovered crisp, rich cotton of
excellent quality. He closed his eyes and actually imagined he
stood in a luxurious Japanese palace boudoir he had once seen
duplicated in a Chicago museum. This was turning out to be some
reward.

"You look good enough to eat." Her
voice pulled him out of his imagination and into his real-life
fantasy.

She came to him from the far corner,
the sight of her stealing his breath. Her hair, freshly brushed,
cascaded past her shoulders in shining, golden waves that begged
for his touch. She wore black eyeliner that gave her deep brown
eyes a slanted, oriental appearance, and her full lips seemed even
fuller under cherry red gloss he wanted to taste. Exhibited on a
black, satin shelf bra, her white breasts swelled upward, the
fabric only covering the bottom half and allowing her nipples to
peak over the edge. His balls tightened uncomfortably, and he ached
to slip his dick into her lovely cleavage.

Delicate ribs tapered to a tight, tiny
waist he could span with a single hand. To his near undoing,
glistening, golden curls beckoned to him, framed by black lace
suspender pantyhose. Her bush held his attention to the point where
he barely noticed the four-inch steel-spiked heels gracing her
shapely feet.

He flexed his fingers. "I can't wait
to get my hands on you, you gorgeous thing."

She stopped and wagged a finger side
to side. "Uh-uh-uh. You're not to touch me. Remember?"

Reluctantly, he tore his gaze from her
and glanced at the ropes. He didn't thrill at the idea of her
subjecting him to bondage, but he wanted access to her stunning
body. She'd said he could move in the binding, and he intended to
take advantage to do what she said he couldn't—touch her. Once he
gave her the pleasure he suspected she secretly craved, she
wouldn't tell him to stop.

"You still want to do this?" she
asked.

"Absolutely." He gave her a once over,
soaking in her beauty and loving that she stared at his cock like
she wanted to suck it dry.

"Turn around," she
instructed.

Chip spun to face a tan pleated shade
over a window. What would she do first? Melony came beside him, her
velvety breasts brushing his arm when she reached for the russet
rope. Biting back a groan, he fought the urge to reach out and test
the firmness of those heavenly globes. He didn't dare, and scare
her. After all, she had freed him far before his prediction of
dinnertime, and he had no intention of going back into her torture
chamber.

She laid a pinkie on his collarbone
and traced it with a feather-light stroke that made his skin
tingle. Leaning close, she blew air along the same path, and the
tiny hairs along his neck and arms stood on end. Then she used the
frayed tip of the rope. The appearance of the cord told him it
would feel rough, but the fibers, smooth and soft, activated every
nerve ending.

With slow care, she repeated the
process along the other collarbone, around his shoulders, down his
spine, and across his chest, until he shook with need. Not touching
her proved one of his hardest tests of self-control. To keep from
making a mistake, he dug his fingers into his thighs and clenched
his jaw.

"How are you doing?" she asked, her
voice low and sultry.

"I like it so far," he said, his voice
cracking on the last word.
Nice way to sound macho,
Chipper
.