he knew her lips wrapping around his cock would be nothing short of heaven. He would tangle his fingers in her silky hair and command her to take all of him, to let him fuck her mouth with abandon while she held his gaze. Then he’d have his turn on her—tasting her, teasing her, pushing her limits until he brought her to an edge of bliss that, at least for a few moments, would take her away from all the ugliness in her life.
His balls tightened as the forbidden fantasy played in his mind, and in the darkness of his quiet living room, he fisted his cock and gave it long strokes from root to head. He didn’t allow himself any gentleness or finesse. Hard and rough—just like he wanted to take Brynn. He imagined her sucking him hard, scraping her teeth along the tender skin, licking the drops of fluid from the tip, offering him her sweet and utter submission.
Sweat beaded his forehead, and with one last stroke, he let out a guttural moan. Hot fluid splashed onto his shirt and abdomen, and he sank against the sofa, his breath coming in short pants.
God, he was a sick bastard. Even with his best efforts, he couldn’t fight the dangerous craving within him.
Maybe pursuing a relationship with Brynn hadn’t been such a good idea after all. She had enough demons in her own life; he didn’t need to unleash his on her, too. But now that he’d gotten close to the beautiful blonde, he didn’t know how to turn off his desire to be with her. He was going to have to find a way to slay this burning need he had before he crossed the line and scared off Brynn.
And he knew the very person who might be able to help him with that.
now
Brynn looked down at the address on the business card one more time, then raised her eyes to the storefront. “You’ve got to be freaking kidding me.”
The elegantly scrawled sign for Wicked blended in with the upscale shops around it, but its name left no question about the store’s purpose. Leave it to Reid to fail to mention that the uptown address he’d given her was a sex shop. She sighed. What else would it be? She wasn’t exactly applying for membership to the PTA. She slung her purse over her shoulder and fed a few quarters into the parking meter, pleased her hand didn’t shake during the process.
The tapping of her high-heeled boots silenced as she stepped from the sidewalk to the posh carpet of the store’s entrance. Wine-colored walls and soft music enveloped her, giving her the sense that she’d stepped into some private boudoir. The only indications of the store’s wares were the gorgeous black-and-white erotic photos that adorned the walls.
Brynn’s eyes traveled over each one, the bondage scenes sending a hum of electricity through her nervous system. How something could be so beautiful and frightening to her all at the same time was a wonder.
She drifted closer to the picture on her right—a photo of a woman on her knees, back to the camera, arms laced in intricate strips of leather behind her. The woman’s head was dipped forward in deference to the mysterious man in front of her. The photographer had kept the focus on the girl and left the dom blurred in the distance, a strong and imposing force despite the fuzzy edges. Unconsciously, Brynn lifted her hand as if to touch the picture.
“Beautiful, isn’t it?” said a friendly male voice.
Startled, she instantly dropped her hand and stepped back from the art. “What?”
A young, raven-haired man came around the register positioned on the back wall and walked toward her. “That one is one of my favorites. I love how she’s showing such trust in the face of the unknown.”
A nervous smile jumped to her lips. “Um, yes, it’s very… powerful.”
“Indeed.” He nodded, emanating a sage energy that didn’t match his boyish looks. “So what can I help you with today? Are you looking for art or something else?”
She shifted her weight to the opposite leg and resisted the urge to wipe her sweaty palms on her pants. “I was supposed to ask for Jason.”
One of his perfectly groomed brows twitched a bit, but he quickly smoothed his expression. “Of course. My name’s Marius. Let me take you upstairs where the main store is. You can look around while I go get him for you.”
“Thank you,” she said, and followed his lead to a narrow staircase. “So the whole store is upstairs? Why rent the downstairs space as well?”
He glanced back at her and smiled. “A lot of people prefer the privacy of knowing that those walking by on the street can’t peek in and see what they’re shopping for. Many of our customers have conservative jobs or public images. So that’s important. Plus, I doubt the neighborhood would’ve agreed to allow this type of store if our merchandise was going to be on display.”
“Makes sense,” Brynn said, climbing the last step and walking into the main shop. The décor matched the bottom floor, but instead of erotic photography, there were rows of sex toys, bondage equipment, and high-end lingerie.
Marius crooked a thumb behind him. “I’ll go get Jason for you. Feel free to browse. You have the store to yourself right now. We usually don’t get busy until after ten or so.”
“Thanks.” She waited until he disappeared before she took him up on the browsing offer.
Brynn wandered down the first aisle, trying to keep her mind off the conversation she was about to have. She eyed the collection of vibrators, the shear variety astounding her. She shook her head. Dolphins, rabbits, butterflies. Why were they all named after animals? What was sexy about that? If she invented a line, she’d name them after movie stars. The Mark Wahlberg. The Brad Pitt. She smiled. Maybe she had missed her calling.
She turned the corner to the next aisle and sucked in a breath. Rows of black leather restraints, paddles, and whips lined the shelves along with loads of things she couldn’t identify. The photo from downstairs flashed through her brain. This was what she was signing up for—complete submission to a stranger. A golf-ball-sized lump lodged in her throat.
She picked up one of the items, a flogger according to the tag, and threaded her fingers through the soft strips at the end of the handle. The leather felt cool against her skin, but she imagined the material would heat up quickly when wielded by a strong hand. She resisted the urge to smack it across her palm to test the theory.
She’d never done anything with actual equipment. She and Reid had both been new to the idea back then and hadn’t ventured very far into this world. They’d worked with whatever they had around. She drew the leather across her hand again, and images of Reid standing behind her, flogger in hand, invaded her thoughts. A hot tingling fired up in her belly and crept lower.
She shook her head—God, she was so twisted up with this. Her body hadn’t forgotten what it had been like with Reid, how unbelievably explosive the sex had been. But the same thoughts that got her body slick and ready made her mind want to splinter into a thousand pieces.
“My God, Brynn LeBreck,” said a genial voice, startling her from her errant thoughts.
She looked up, fumbling to put the flogger back on the rack, and her breath caught.
“I didn’t think it was possible for you to get more gorgeous,” Jace said, green eyes sparkling. “But clearly I was wrong.”
“Jace?”
