Trouble Maker: A MacKenzie Family Novel (The MacKenzie Family) (12 page)

He and Claire had always liked to play. They’d met while he was working undercover for the DEA at a BDSM club, and they’d asked Cooper to take that particular job because it was well known that he enjoyed his sex a little…different. He fit in that world as smoothly as he did the real world. It was all part of the job, and he was one of those people who looked for the adrenaline rush wherever he was.

He’d been focused on the job and the cartel leader that had been making himself too much at home in their territory and slipping large quantities of a new drug from Colombia through the United States and into Canada. Business had been good for Rafael Morda.

And during the chaos of the wild pump of bass through the club, the gyrating half-naked bodies, and Morda positioned like a king on his throne, in walked Claire. All the available submissives in the club practically ran to get her attention, and half the Doms did too. She exuded confidence and power, and they were drawn to her like a moth to a flame. She was his equal in every way, and he’d been more surprised than anyone to find out what a small-town librarian wore beneath her clothes.

His wife had hidden secrets and he adored every one of them. He took off his gun belt at the door and laid it on the entry table. Then he tossed his cell phone beside it, thoughts of work draining out of his head with all the blood.

“This wasn’t the kind of lunch I had in mind, but I’m game,” he said, his eyes moving over her body slowly. “I find I’m very hungry all of a sudden.”

Her black hair was sleek and short and her eyes were made up for seduction. Her lips were red and full and thoughts of them wrapped around his cock had him unsnapping the top button of his jeans for a little breathing room.

She flicked the riding crop in her hand and shook her head, telling him without words that she was in charge and to not get too aggressive. They were both dominant personalities, in and outside of the bedroom, and though Cooper had always been the Dominant in his past relationships, he couldn’t get by with that with Claire. She didn’t mind submitting to him, as long as the next time they switched roles. And it looked like this was next time.

Her arms and shoulders showed muscles from her thrice weekly workouts and she wore a black corset that cinched her in the middle and pushed her very voluptuous breasts impossibly high. The bra cups of the bustier were missing so her breasts were completely bared to him, and in place of the usual gold hoops she wore at her nipples were long gold dangles.

Her skin was pale and smooth and flawless, and a tiny black triangle covered her pussy. Images of tearing the lacy scrap had him growling low in his throat. She wore leather boots that crisscrossed all the way to the middle of her thighs and she tapped the crop in her hand impatiently.

She made a hell of a picture, and the thought went through his mind that maybe it wasn’t her turn to be on top after all. He wanted to throw her over his shoulder and roar with triumph as he conquered her. The Alpha in him applauded the notion, but the other side of his brain said it would be worth it if he complied with her wishes.

Twenty minutes later he wondered if she might be trying to kill him. She’d strapped him to the bed. Sneaky wench. And he had no choice but to lie there and take the torture.

She’d started at his mouth, distracting him, tempting him until he’d felt the first clasp around his wrist. And then she’d kissed her way down to his neck, taking sharp little nips with her teeth and driving him crazy. She tugged at the rings in his nipples and then her mouth replaced her fingers.

“God, Claire,” he said between gritted teeth. His cock was hard enough to drive nails and his hips nudged against her. She was straddling his thighs and he almost cheered when he realized the panties she wore were crotchless and he could slide right in.

“Tsk, tsk,” Claire said, shifting her hips and thwarting his chances of thrusting deep inside her. “You’re always so impatient. I’m trying to have my lunch.” Her smile was devious and a little bit wicked.

“You must be starving,” he said. “Don’t let me stop you.”

“Famished,” she purred.

His body was damp with sweat and he writhed on the cool sheets as she continued her torture, her mouth tugging one last time on the nipple ring. She kissed a straight line down his taut abs and the dangles from her nipple ring trailed over the tip of his cock. His whole body shuddered at the touch and he strained against the restraints at his wrists, the headboard creaking with his strength.

He looked down his body and met her witchy gaze, and then her tongue flicked out and toyed with the silver bar at the tip of his dick and he was lost. Her mouth was a miracle, and his balls drew up tight as she swallowed him whole. He wouldn’t last long at this pace and he wanted to have his lunch too.

Somewhere in the far recesses of his mind he heard his cell phone ringing from the foyer where he’d left it on the table, but he ignored it, thinking he could’ve been wrong and it might just be the ringing in his ears.

“Ride me,” he said, his grip tightening on the restraints.

“There’s time for that yet. This is going to be a long lunch.”

“Not if you don’t slow that sweet mouth down a little, sugar.”

Her nails scraped down his thighs and she got up on all fours. “That hurts my feelings. Where’s your faith in me? You don’t think I could get you hard again?” She pouted prettily and leaned down so the piercings dangled against his legs, rocking back and forth in a hypnotic motion.

No, she was right. He must’ve lost his mind for a moment. She’d always been able to get him hard. Time after time through the night. She was insatiable. And he was insatiable when he was with her. “Jesus, Claire. I could come just by looking at you.”

“Mmm, maybe next time. I’ve got plans for now.”

She levered herself up so she stood above him on the bed and grabbed hold of the harness she’d set up before he’d gotten home. Their sex life had always been spectacular, and they liked to experiment. None of that had changed after marriage. They still had the standing toy chest and had added to it over the years. Their bed was solid and they’d had the rings installed at the corners of the headboard and footboard, as well as the hooks in the ceiling so they could attach apparatus as they wanted or needed. It seemed Claire was definitely in an experimental mood.

“I’ve got a surprise for you,” she said.

“I’m not sure I can take any more surprises today.”

She took hold of the harness in the ceiling with one hand and then hooked one thumb beneath the lacy strap of her panties and tugged. It tore and the thin scrap of lace fluttered to the bed. She stood before him, her pussy bare and the little gold ring on her clit peeking out.

“Are you sure?” she asked. She reached up with her free hand and played with the nipple ornament.

“I don’t know,” he said, grinning. “Give me a hint and I’ll tell you whether or not I can take it.”

Her grin answered his. “Oh, you’ll take it. And you’ll like it.”

“I always do, sweetheart. Now why don’t you put your money where your mouth is and share the surprise?”

“Telling you would take the fun out of it. You’ll have to find it if you want it.”

He arched a brow at the evasive answer and his cock jerked in anticipation. “You’ve got my hands tied, sugar.”

He jerked against his restraints and shrugged as if there wasn’t much more he could do. He knew her well. Knew when she’d reached the point where dominance took a back seat to the pleasure she sought. The less he begged, the sooner she would get down to giving him what they both wanted.

“I’ll give you a hint,” she said, and then she pouted prettily as the bedside phone rang.

“I’m on call,” he said, voice strained.

“Well, isn’t that awkward?” she said with a cheeky grin. “At least it’s going to be.”

And before he could stop her she used the harness to swing down to the side of the bed and hit the button for speakerphone. He didn’t know how she managed to move so gracefully. It was something as simple as breathing for her.

“Coop, are you there?” Beckett asked, his voice tinny as it filled the room.

Sweat dripped from Cooper’s temples and he closed his eyes, trying to get his brain cells in working order.

“I’m here.” His voice was hoarse and he cleared his throat.

“Tried your cell, but Lane said you’d gone home for lunch, so thought I’d take a chance. You feeling okay? You don’t sound so good.”

“Think I’m coming down with a cold.” Cooper shook his head in warning at Claire as her mouth quirked devilishly. He knew that look. She was up to no good. “And maybe a fever. I’m taking the rest of the day off.”

Claire fluttered her eyelashes and nodded enthusiastically, and then she crawled back onto the bed, nipping at his thigh.

“I won’t take up much of your time then,” Beckett continued. “I just wanted to let you know what happened between me and Denny Trout down at the bakery before you hear it from anyone else.”

Cooper sucked in a breath as Claire turned away from him and straddled herself over his straining erection. It was then he saw the surprise she’d alluded to earlier and he almost swallowed his tongue. Her ass was lush and round and she bent forward on her knees, showing him a perfect view of the clear disc that covered her anal passage. She was wearing a plug, and if possible his cock went even harder at the thought that he’d get to explore that passage soon.

Claire sank down on his cock, taking it inch by inch, and he tried to stifle a moan as she seated herself reverse cowgirl to the hilt. From the snug fit of her pussy, she must’ve been wearing one of the larger anal plugs.

“Coop, you okay? You really sound terrible.”

“Never been better,” he said between clinched teeth. “I’ve already heard about you and Denny from about twenty people.” His breath hissed out as Claire looked over her shoulder and winked. And then she began to ride and any hope of keeping up with the conversation was lost.

“Just wanted to give you a heads-up. He’s out for blood.”

“Then watch yourself,” he managed to say. “Denny’s always been mean and he doesn’t care if he gets caught. He’s got a sheet as long as my arm of batteries and assaults. Several of them domestic with his first wife.”

Cooper tested the restraints around his wrists once more and heard the headboard creak. And then he pulled harder, until the wood cracked and splintered and his hand was free.

“10-4, Coop,” Beckett said. “I’m going to let you go before your fever reaches its breaking point. Make sure you tell Claire hello for me.”

The phone disconnected just as Cooper managed to break his other hand free from the restraints. Claire turned her head and her red mouth gasped a perfectly round “O.”

“I’ll let you be the boss the next two times,” he said, flipping their positions in a powerful motion so she was on all fours and he was mounted behind her. “I swear. But right now I’m going to fuck that sweet ass you teased me with.”

She was soaking wet and her muscles clenched around his cock as he made the promise of what was to come.

“Mmm, I sure hope so. Otherwise I’ve been wearing this thing all morning for nothing.”

He choked out a laugh and carefully removed the lubed plug from her anus, tossing it aside. “You wore it to work this morning?”

She held still as he lined up his cock with the stretched hole of her ass, and then as he began to penetrate she pushed back against him, taking him quickly, though not necessarily easily. He was a big man, and even with the proper preparation it took time and care. But she had other plans and began coming before his cock was buried all the way inside her.

The time for words and teasing was long gone, and only the animalistic sounds of hot, sweaty sex filled the room.

Cooper’s fingers bit into her hips and then without warning an orgasm more powerful than any he’d experienced exploded from the depth of his balls. His shout filled the room and blackness clouded his vision as he held onto her like an anchor in the storm. He collapsed and barely managed to turn before he crushed her with his weight. And before they both drifted to sleep he thought his fever might last well into the weekend.

Chapter Twelve

The next morning, Marnie lay in bed, waiting for her racing pulse to slow and her body to stop vibrating from the climax she’d just had. Her dreams definitely had a mind of their own. Not that she was complaining, but it was something of a disappointment to wake up with the memory of a hard male body pressing her into the mattress only to find herself alone.

It hadn’t even been twenty-four hours since their first meeting and she wanted Beckett more than she ever had. Which made her all the more resistant. Her power wouldn’t dictate her future. It was a dangerous trap to fall into, and one could spend a lifetime waiting for the future to unfold, only to find out too late a certain road should’ve been traveled to get there, but was instead missed.

She was going to learn to live on her own. She was going to discover who she really was. And she was going to heal. Nothing would make her rush the process. Not even Beckett Hamilton. And in the meantime, she could live with the dreams. It certainly helped her start off the day relaxed.

Marnie loved the house on the river. It was exactly what she needed—seclusion and privacy and a little bit of a fairy tale.

It was a small stone cottage nestled behind a bank of trees, and it couldn’t be seen from the road. In fact, she’d missed her turn into the narrow drive on more than one occasion. The stone was dark gray and black shutters flanked the windows. The sidewalk was graveled and snaked to the front porch.

The house was furnished, just as Cooper had told her, and she’d been able to find plain white cotton sheets at the mercantile and a set of towels in the same color. Everything was simple and comfortable, just as she preferred it, and she’d turned the second bedroom into a small office.

But the master bedroom was her favorite. The walls were painted a smoky gray and trimmed in white. The bed dominated the room—the ornately carved posts thick as a tree trunk—and the bedspread was a waterfall of shades of gray that matched the walls. But the centerpiece of the room was the large picture window that looked out over the river. There was a window seat with stuffed cushions and pillows that was perfect for relaxing with a good book. She especially liked it first thing in the morning, when the fog crept over the river and through the trees like smoky fingers.