The Risqué Target (21 page)

“Start at his hands and move down his arms,” Frenzy said, holding her hand out to take the riding crop.

Nala was oddly anxious, but anticipation swam between her legs. She handed over the crop, raised her arms and lightly wrapped her fingers around the restraints on his wrists before she slid slowly down the thick cords of his arms, arms that had held her at night. She ran her hands over his broad chest, the very one she had been laying her head upon in the morning. Mesmerized by the feel of his tight, hot skin beneath her fingers, she'd ached to touch him so freely for days. She wanted him so badly that her insides churned, and a heated pull developed between her thighs. She stroked down to his flat stomach, but then hesitated.

“Don't stop. Keep going,” Frenzy snapped.

Tantum had put her in this position. She complied. The tip of her finger trailed along the thin line of dark hair leading to the start of his low-waisted pants. Her breathing quickened.

“That's it,” Frenzy coaxed. Insisted.

Her hand passed over the soft leather.

“Check to be sure your servant is satisfactory,” Frenzy's throaty voice incited.

Nala's shaky palm slid over his impressive bulge. Once her fingers found the tip of his head, she slid them along the length of him.
Five… six…
He was literally growing beneath her touch.
Seven… eight? Yes!
She sighed, finding him to be very satisfactory. Caught up by his rock-hard, stiff erection, Nala stroked him not once, but twice.

Frenzy's voice pulled her from the action, rousing her and reminding her that they weren't alone. “Well?”

Nala looked up at Frenzy and dropped her hand. “He'll do,” Nala choked out, as if she were inspecting produce at the supermarket.

“Taste him.”

What? Where?
The only thing on her mind was the hard male heat she'd just had in her hand, and although she wanted to taste it, she wasn’t about to do that with an audience.

Frenzy, standing a few feet away, tapped her finger to her own mouth.

Oh… okay. I can do that,
Nala thought.

She leaned in and captured Tantum's fixed lips but quickly pulled back. Her hand clamped over her mouth.

“What's wrong? Is your servant’s taste not to your liking?”

“He bit me!” She couldn’t believe it! Tantum had bitten her so hard he almost drew blood.

“You can punish him for that later,” Frenzy said, dismissing Nala’s appalled reaction.

The statement sparked a notion.
What if Tantum is the one doing the punishing? What if he bit me as punishment for touching him, for violating his body while he’s in such a vulnerable state?

Frenzy walked to the far side of the room and hit a button, and the chain holding Tantum's wrists in the air started to descend. She strutted over in four-inch red stilettos, handed Nala the crop, and then snatched the loose chain and unclasped it. “This chain attaches to his collar,” she said and placed the end into the metal steel link dangling from the thick leather around his neck.

Tantum's hands fell to his waist, still imprisoned by the shackles, still vulnerable.

“Get on your knees,” Frenzy ordered.

Nala observed in amazement, watched in awe, his obedient reaction. One knee bent and lowered, and the other indolently followed. His shoulders squared, his chest froze with vigor, and his stomach set tight with rows of cut muscle.

“It's time to reveal to your servant, his master,” Moving behind him, Frenzy ordered, “Disrobe.”

“What?”

“You must show your servant your power, and it lies beneath that robe.”

Nala opened her mouth to refuse, but she looked down at Tantum, on his knees. She gazed at the restraints binding him from his wrists to his neck. He'd sacrificed his pride for the assignment, and now it was her turn. She untied the robe and shimmied it off her shoulders until it fell, soft and light, onto the floor.

“Look at your master,” Frenzy ordered and released the blindfold from his bowed head. It cascaded slowly to the floor, joining her robe.

Nala's heart struck against her chest wall with great force as his head started to lift. She couldn't see his eyes yet, but she felt them burning her feet, her knees, touching her exposed thighs. A rush of hot liquid soared to her womanly center when he reached it. Her stomach tensed from the brushing, bathing slow slide of his surf. Her breasts swelled, ached, and hardened from the torture of his smoldering cast. Almost there, the enthralling blue of his eyes almost in view, anticipation swallowed her clout, chewed up and gulped down her nerve.

The black wings flew gracefully upward. The dark lashes rose to the ceiling, and she could have died right there. His raging eyes were filled with something.
Passion? A dark rapture thriving with anger? Need? Or is it loathing
? Whatever it was, the intensity crept deep inside her and held on tight.

“Lucy has requested to be present during your session.”

The sound of Frenzy's voice didn’t break his spellbinding hold, but her words did stir an ounce of fury into the mix of Tantum's severe stare.

Wait… what did she say? Lucy?
Nala snapped her eyes over at Frenzy. “What?”

“She wants to watch.” Tantum's husky voice poured to her ears.

Her eyes slid downward and were greeted by that roguish, freaking hot and seductive sly grin. It didn’t last long, though.

Frenzy snatched his hair and snapped his head back.

Nala froze.

His eyes closed, his face tensed, and his jaw perilously tightened.

Frenzy tugged on his thick hair and yanked his head farther back. “You don't speak unless you're told to do so.”

In a single fluid movement, Tantum perched up onto one foot, his knuckles smashed into the floor. Every muscle in his body protruded. He was poised to attack.

Nala had to do something, and she needed to do it quick before Tantum unleashed. She flicked the riding crop to just below his chin.

His lids lifted, and his hooded eyes glared up at her.

And then Nala saw it.
How could I have thought for a second that he was capable of being broken? That he’d ever allow himself to become vulnerable? Is this what the cartel was up against? Is this what they saw when they strung him up by his feet and tortured him, this fierce, shatterproof man?

For the first time she realized how very dangerous Tantum Maddox was. He was the most powerful, the sexiest man she'd ever come into contact with. But worst of all, she realized she'd fallen hard for him.

It didn’t matter which of them was chained. She was his, completely. The secret knowledge, this ultimate submission, spread through her heart and she met his eyes, letting him discover her feelings there.

His eyes didn’t soften, but the fury simmered to a low threat.

“You can tell Lucy he's mine.” Nala pressed the crop harder into his skin, keeping his attention on her. “And I have absolutely no desire to share what is mine with anyone.” It was the truth. Tantum Maddox would be forever hers, forever be the master of her heart.

****

Maybe she heard the clicking of Frenzy's heels or the closing of the door, but her mind didn’t register them. Her surroundings failed to exist until Tantum flicked the crop with his chin, until it flew across the room. He reached out and scooped her robe from the floor. He rose to his full overshadowing height, exuding all power and grace. He thrust the robe at her. “Here. Put it on,” he barked, as though he was annoyed.

His coldness rekindled her fear. Surely she looked hideous, a long-legged ostrich in leather. What revenge would he want for her ridiculous charade? Perhaps it had been anger glowing in his eyes, not the longing passion she'd desperately wished for.

He unhitched the link from his neck and broke free of the straps around his wrists. He tore away the collar and tossed it onto the floor.

Paralyzed by the magnitude of his strength, she saw him, free, true to his nature, potent, and simply exquisite. Like any wild animal, he was untamable, feral and self-ruling. Nothing and no one would keep him down. Definitely not her. He showed nothing but contempt for the sight of her half-naked.

“Put it on,” he repeated in a low snarl, putting the dominatrix's snapped orders and her own awkward attempts to shame.

Her mouth opened to defend herself, but nothing came out.

He advanced on her. His face was edgy and his lips tight as he looked down at her. “Not a word, Nala,” he warned.

“I wasn’t going to say anything,” she lied.

“Let's find what we came for and get the hell out of here,” he said. He turned away and ran his fingers through his hair. When he dropped his hand, he sighed. Beneath his heavy breath she heard him mutter, “I gotta get out of here.”

She wanted to know why he'd put her into this situation if it ticked him off so much. Why hadn’t he taken the dominant role? “Why did you—?”

“Don't, Nala. Don’t ask me anything. Forget what just happened. This is Room Fourteen, so what does LC 3 mean?”

“Fine.” But she knew she’d forever remember him in this room, a powerful force deceptively masked by weakness. He was a man hotter than the blazing sun, stronger than her control, a man she'd never forget. The image was going to haunt her for eternity.

She tried to focus.
LC 3. L… light, L… leather…
leather whips, leather pants holding the best ass in the world.
Stop that!
L… lever… L… left. Could it be left? C… crop.
Like the one she wanted to throttle him with.
C… canes.
They hung on the wall, plastic, wood and, for the very wicked, stainless steel. There were paddles, floggers. And more to her preference, ticklers in furry pink, black, and a whole array of colors. She glanced over at Tantum.

“You got something?”

A flood in my panties. “
Left corner?” she tried. “Though I can't get the three. Three steps from the left corner? Three feet?”

He lunged, and heat flared in her, but he’d jumped onto the table. Sex paraphernalia scattered to the floor. Reaching up to the ceiling, he punched the third tile from the left corner, reached farther, and pulled out a box.

****

“
He's mine.”
The hungry look in her eyes, the way she’d reached out with those baby blues and stroked his fury. She’d calmed him when that bitch snatched his hair. About to snap, ready to blow his cover, Nala had soothed him with those words. “
He's mine
.” Hearing her say them and thinking about it drove him crazy. The dominance in her voice was convincing and determined. The get-up, scanty leather on her body, wreaked havoc on his almost uncontainable need, a desire like he'd never experienced in his life. He wanted to take her right then and there.

He'd entered the room prepared for his role, ready to be bound and chained up. He chose to kneel before her, aware that she'd feed off the control. He'd done it to save her. Had the shoe been on the other foot, he’d have done it to save himself, but she'd outshone him. She'd played her role better than he had, and in the end, he'd surrendered to her control.

Her lustful eyes had stilled his rage when he was about to erupt from his restraints. Something strong, something bigger than him, rested in those eyes and overpowered his endurance. She'd wrapped every bit of his rage into a security blanket and held on to it. That was when the knowledge of his own vulnerability had come over him. When he was on his knees, shackled and defeated, he surrendered to her. Obediently, at the beckoning of her desire, he’d relinquished his heart.

Ignoring her confusion when he roughly threw the robe at her was easy. He had enough to deal with, getting over the fact that she'd decimated his control, his command over the situation and his command over his heart. He’d had to get out of there, had to get his hard-on under control. He needed to be free of her ravenous eyes.

The drive back to his mother's home was quiet and uncomfortable, but at least they were clothed. After his insolence, she'd kept her mouth shut, but now he was alone again with Nala, the new owner of his heart. He wasn’t sure she was the proud owner, but she was the owner nonetheless. He’d hinted to her he didn’t know how to love, but he wondered if she had any idea how much baggage she’d just inherited. A man who didn’t know how to make love, and one who would ferociously fight having any real kind of relationship with her.