You Own Me (5 page)

Selah shot him a laughing look as he moved in closer, while behind him, Lizzie muttered under her breath.

The pizza he’d just swallowed had the consistency and texture of lead, it seemed, lodging in his throat until it was almost impossible to force it down.

“Hey, Deck…ah…”

He slid her a look over his shoulder. “You’re going through with it, huh?”

Her face was red. She looked down and fiddled with the top button on the shirt and damn it, why did she have to do that, because now he wanted to see her fingers loosening that button, then another, and another…

Abruptly, she jerked her head up and everything inside him went hot and ready at the look in her eyes. “Yes, I’m doing it.” She jerked up her chin. “So what? Noel looked at me and practically
laughed
. All but gave me a pat on the head. You going to do the same thing?”

Instead of answering, he looked back at the computer. His dick was twisted into a miserably uncomfortable position and it was a good thing he’d had some warning. He’d worn a T-shirt with a flannel hanging out over it, and hopefully nobody looked below the level of his belt because his cock was currently throbbing in time with his heart, and his hard-on wasn’t going away. Maybe not any time this millennium.

“This doesn’t inspire a pat on the head,” he finally said, voice a little rougher than normal, but for the most part, he thought he was holding it together pretty well.

She was naked under that shirt.

In the pictures at least. He could see the frayed edges of the shorts she had on now, but in the pictures, he didn’t think she was even wearing panties.

In one of them, it fell off her shoulder, hanging so low, only the swell of one ripe, round breast kept it from falling off completely. There was a slideshow of the images and the next one that came up had him biting back a groan. She’d swapped out the button-down for a tank top. A white one. She had a lacy white bra under it, but neither of those did anything to hide the shadows of large, plump nipples. His mouth was watering. Son of a bitch.

She was two feet away, one of their best friends was in the room. And all he wanted to do was turn around, go to his knees and pull that shirt open—
his
shirt—so he could see just how large and pretty those nipples really were.

Another image rolled across the screen.

Glass shattered.

Looking down, he stared at the plate he’d dropped but he wasn’t seeing the plate. He was seeing long pale limbs, the sheet that had been strategically twisted and twined around her lush curves so that it fell in swathes against her tits and her hips, but leaving everything else bare.

His mind was working overtime to fill in the blanks.

“You’ve got butterfingers today, Deck,” Selah said, her voice sly.

He shot her a dark look. “Yeah. Looks that way.”

He turned just as Lizzie tried to go around him to get the glass.

“I’ll get it,” he said, his voice gruff.

“I can help.”

“You’re not wearing any shoes.” He shot a look down at her feet, and fuck him, he couldn’t help but let his gaze linger on the neckline of the shirt—
his
shirt—and he knew another thing she wasn’t wearing. A bra. She still hadn’t put on a bra.

He nudged her back, putting his slice of pizza onto the plate she’d been holding and then he crouched down. Maybe he could cut open his hand. If he lost enough blood, it would do something to deaden the hard-on, he thought. Adequate blood supply was needed to maintain erections, right?

Of course, the likelihood of losing a pint or so from a broken plate was slim. And spilling that much just so she wouldn’t notice seemed a bit extreme…

She wouldn’t notice anyway
, he thought sourly as he plucked up pieces of glass and dumped them in the palm of his hand.
She’ll put herself up on a kink website for any damn body
—

Any damn body.

Tension grabbed him.

“So how does this website work?” he asked slowly.

“People will post to her profile. If she’s interested, she can check out their profiles and they can chat. It’s up to her if she sets up a meet,” Selah said cheerfully. “Of course, I’ve already told her that the first few times she meets
anybody
one of us have to be told.”

“I’m a big girl,” Elizabeth said from the kitchen. “I can take care of myself, you know.”

“Of course. That’s why you understand the need of being careful with people you’ve only met online, right?” From the corner of his eye, Decker could see the way Selah winked at him. “It’s a decent set-up. If anybody hassles her, she just has to block him and if she contacts the administrators with proof that a user contacted her without her permission outside the site, the user is banned for life. You need a credit card to register—it’s only five piddly bucks a year—but that makes sure the users are legit
and
if they don’t behave, they are done. The ban is likely to be more effective here than elsewhere.”

“How do they keep the crazies off?” From the corner of his eye, he saw Lizzie approaching and he used his body to block her when she tried to sweep the area. “My mess. I clean it up.”

“My
house
.” She made a face at him but shoved the broom and dustpan into his hand.

While he swept up, Selah answered his earlier question. “Naturally they can’t check people’s medical history, but they state straight up that all users must go through a criminal background check.”

He felt every muscle tighten. So much for that idea—

“But they also make it clear they don’t limit people simply for having a record.” It wasn’t his imagination that Selah’s smile widened and took on a smug turn. “They refuse anybody with any sort of sexual assault or domestic violence, but everything else, they consider on a case by case basis. There’s a form for those who do have a record so if they still want to get on the site, they can apply.”

She rattled off a few more things—stats and shit that made no sense to him and why would he care? But then she paused and looked at him. “I emailed you a little while ago about something—don’t you go ignoring it now.”

Decker had written this probably a hundred times, or explained it. He would probably do it again, the next time he had to talk to somebody about a job, or the next time somebody complained about a felon living next door and the supe found a reason to kick him out.

Not too many people liked the idea of a convicted killer working for them, or living close by, although he’d learned there were those who’d give him a chance. Rowland had been cool with it, and his current landlord seemed fine to live and let live. But Decker was under no illusions that anything in his life was permanent—except Lizzie—so yeah, he’d have to tell this story again.

Just as he’d told it so many other times, and it always started out the same way.

I did what I felt I had to do, and while I regret the fact that it was necessary, I have no regrets that I took the actions I did…

And so it went.

He did have to admit that he didn’t think he’d
ever
be explaining himself to a fucking
dating
site. Well. It was a little more than a dating site. It was a social site for those with
tastes outside the mainstream ideal
. That was how they advertised themselves. And why they were probably not totally opposed to having felons on the site.

Fuck knows there were women who’d all but crawled over him when they found out he had a record.

That kind of thing left him cold inside. Although more than once, he’d taken a lady up on it. She wanted what she saw as a risky fuck and he just needed to not be lonely every once in a while. It got
damn
lonely in bed at night, him, his fist, his fantasies.

It was sex, nothing more, nothing less. At least on his side. Whatever they got out of it, he didn’t know. Well, other than orgasms. He could give them that.

If they tried to linger with him, ask questions—
why did you do it, what was it like
—well, that just hurried the end along that much quicker. He didn’t talk about that night unless he had to. And it was a kick in the face that he was doing it with total strangers. Via email, no less.

But every time he thought about the profile he’d seen Selah working on?

Yeah. He had to try.

Because whether Lizzie realized it or not, she was going to have guys crawling all
over
her profile.

The phone rang just as he sent the form off—he thought of it as
I’m a killer, but only under certain circumstances
form. “Really,” he muttered, grabbing the phone. “I’m safe. Trust me.”

Lizzie’s face flashed across the screen and he reached up, pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Hey, Lizzie.”

“Deck.” Her voice was…weird.

Slowly, he straightened up in his chair, turning away from the miniscule desk to face the single studio apartment where he’d lived for the past nine months. “What’s up?”

“There—um—well, this is…I don’t know how to say this.”

“You just say it, sugar,” he said, rolling his eyes—amused even as frustration bubbled. Lizzie sometimes seemed like two people trapped inside that sex-bomb body of hers. When she was at work, or when she was in a position where she had to be in charge, she was just that.
In charge
. Capital letters, italics, full out in charge.

But when it came to
her
? Her personal life? What she wanted? What she needed? What made her happy? She went all quiet. Bunnies could be more demanding than she was.

And it pissed him off, because she hadn’t always been that way.

He knew, all too well, what had caused it. But he didn’t know how to knock down the wall she’d built around herself. Not without hurting her.

“I’ve got guys talking to me.”

He tensed. “What? Where are you? Are you safe?”

“No…” A nervous giggle escaped her but he barely heard it as the rage bled through, trying to take him over again.

“Not that. Decker, it’s the website.”

Through the pulse of his own blood pounding in his ears, he caught those words. He’d been halfway out the door, but now he paused. “The website.”

“Yeah. Um. On my wall. Some of them are talking to me. I’ve already had three guys ask me out.”

Fucccckkkk…

Dragging a hand down his face, he shut the door and slumped against it. A new kind of rage, the small and mean and petty kind twisted inside him, even as something warm settled in his heart as he understood that odd note he’d heard in her voice. Bemusement. Shocked, puzzled bemusement. “Lizzie, what did you think would happen? You’re gorgeous and you put up pictures where any guy with eyes could see it and you think nobody is going to notice?”

“But I’m not…”

“Stop it. I’m not going to listen to the shit you think you see in the mirror,” he snapped. “You’re beautiful and you always have been. And now somebody other than—”
me
“Needledick Noel is going to be able to appreciate it. Enjoy it. Just…”

He stopped, drove his head back against the door even as he mentally slapped himself. He’d encouraged her to do this. Even if she ended up with somebody
else
, somebody
not
him, it would be better. Maybe she’d just wake up and realize she deserved better and dump Noel and he could try to make a move
then
. But regardless, he’d promised himself he’d see her happy…and loved.

Granted, he’d always planned to be the one loving her, but in the end, if she was happy, and loved, that was what mattered.

“Just promise me you’ll remember what we talked about, you, me and Selah. First few dates are in public—no going home with anybody the first few times. Okay?”

As she promised him, he shot his computer a look.

Maybe a snowstorm would break out in hell and somebody would give him a chance on the site. Then
he
could be one of the guys flirting with her. She never seemed to notice any time he’d tried in real life but…

Noel’s hands dug into her hips.

He all but ground her into the table and Lizzie clutched at it, tried to center herself even as he drove into her. “Noel—”

One hand left her hip to come up, press her face into the table even as she went to lift it and she closed her eyes—half to escape, half to try and find the pleasure she
should
feel.

With something closer to desperation than she liked, she reached out…latched on.
Pleasure
…she was supposed to feel.

Words rolled through her mind.

Not Noel’s.

She didn’t know who he was.

I can’t sleep at night for thinking about touching you …

As Noel drove into her again, she latched onto the last dirty little story he’d sent her.

I can see you spread out in front of me. You’ll be soft, all over…inside, outside…and wet for me. If you’re not, I’ll lick you until you are.

A soft cry escaped her. Noel made a grunt of approval, not even realizing it wasn’t anything he did.

Do you like to touch yourself? I want to think you do. I put my hand on my cock and think about you. I want to think about you sliding your fingers down your belly, between your thighs and stroking, stroking…

She worked her hips up, driving them back against Noel and heard his pleased mutter, something she pushed away. Eyes closed, she slid two fingers around her clit, blocking out what was happening in the real world.

Touch yourself. Make your hand wet, slide your fingers in…and out…

She imagined doing that and slowly started to move, finally finding some level of arousal, tightening herself around the cock thrusting inside her.

She’d be embarrassed about it later.

But for now all she could think about was the fact that she felt
wanted
—just not by the man fucking her.

Now imagine it’s not your fingers fucking you. But my cock. I want to be the one moving in you. Tasting you. Touching. Feeling you come—