Текст книги "Heated"

Автор книги: J. Kenner

Соавторы: J. Kenner
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Текущая страница: 11 (всего у книги 18 страниц)

“That’s your opening offer, isn’t it?” He popped the other button open. “The deal you came to negotiate? I let you dance at Destiny, and you let me touch you?”

He used both hands now to push apart the lapels of the jacket, revealing my breasts, my abdomen, and those pretty silk panties. “Isn’t that like making a deal with the devil?” he asked, as his hand trailed down, making me tremble, then over the panties to find me so very, very wet.

“Or maybe you just like playing with the bad boys,” he said, as he slipped a finger deep inside me.

I arched back, gasping.

“Hook your legs over the chair’s arms,” he ordered.

“Tyler, no—”

“Do it.”

I did, and he lowered his mouth to my sex, using one hand to pull the panties and G-string aside, and the other to tilt the chair back until it seemed like I would fall. I was head-down, completely at his mercy, open and wide and essentially helpless.

And I was desperately, hopelessly, turned on.

He ran his tongue the length of me, and I shook as a storm of sparks rocketed through me, the sensation all the more spectacular because of the way the chair rocked with my arousal.

“This won’t work,” Tyler said.

“No,” I moaned. “Don’t stop.”

But he was opening the desk drawer, pulling out scissors. “I need both hands to keep the chair from toppling,” he said, then cut the panties right off me before tossing the scissors onto the floor with a metallic clank.

I laughed, the sound a burst of shock and pleasure. He met my eyes, his grin mischievous and deliciously sexy. “You taste good,” he said, then once again sank between my legs.

His hands stayed on the chair, so that he was touching me only with his mouth. He teased me, licking and sucking, playing and tormenting.

And with each touch, each stroke, the pressure inside me built and built.

I was open to him—wide and open and I wanted this. Wanted whatever he had to give. Wanted to lose myself in whatever pleasure he could share, whatever wicked, sensual torment he could devise.

In that moment, I think I would have done anything if only he would swear that this feeling would never stop.

Little tremors shot through me, making my body shake, the chair tremble. Precursors of an explosion that was close, so close, so close—

And then the world shattered, the chair rocking, my body clenching. I cried out for him to stop because I didn’t think I could take it anymore, but he was relentless, taking everything from me, pulling every drop of pleasure out of me, taking me so high I was breathless, then crashing me back down to earth again where he scooped me into his arms.

“Wow,” I murmured, finding myself curled against his chest, my body bare against his shirt, the jacket hanging open around me. “Wow.”

“Very wow,” he said, as he carried me across the room and laid me on the couch. “I may have to put one of those chairs in every room.”

I laughed. “I wouldn’t object.”

“Tell me you liked that,” he said, as he sat on the edge of the sofa beside me.

“Yes. God, yes.”

“I knew you were a cop, Sloane. I knew you were a cop, and I fucked you. I played you. And you were so damn pissed at me.”

I squinted at him, unsure about this change in direction. But his expression was still soft. Gentle.

I propped myself up on my elbow. “Yes,” I said. “I was.”

“Would you have preferred me to have you removed from the party? To have never touched you? Never put my tongue on your cunt, my hands on your breasts? Would you rather I’d never made you come, and never felt you explode in my arms?”

“No,” I whispered, my body hot and needy.

“Or what about the waiter? Do you regret that? Sitting bold and naked and open and turned on, so desperately aroused, not because of him but because you knew that watching you made me hard?”

I wanted to lie. So help me, I did.

But I couldn’t bring it to my lips. “No.”

“I know it,” he said simply. “I know you.”

I tilted my head to him. “Tyler,” I said, not even certain what I wanted, what I was asking. I simply needed the sound of his name on my lips as some sort of proof that this was real.

“Shhh.” He gently pressed his fingertip to my lip. “I started out just watching you. I must have watched the damn security video a dozen times. Then at the party. I couldn’t take my eyes off you, even though I knew what you were. What you are.”

He stroked me gently, and I closed my eyes, rolling on a wave of pleasure so intense I thought I would surely drown in it. “By everything I know, you are not the woman that I should want,” he said, as he trailed his finger over the wound on my hip. “Detective Sloane Watson, with just over a week of medical leave remaining. A cop, of all things. And I find myself in the unexpected position of wanting you desperately. Of wanting to stoke this fire that rages between us, hot and wild and so very combustible.”

He traced his finger along my collarbone, then over my side, along the curve of my waist, following my silhouette all the way to my hip.

“I want to burn with you, Detective. And, Sloane, you should know that I make it a point to get what I want.”

He smiled at me, slow and easy and full of confidence. “So this is the deal I’m offering you. While you’re on medical leave, you’ll dance at Destiny, you’ll have free access to the club. But during that time, you are mine.”

“Yours?” I repeated.

“Completely,” he said. “With everything that entails. To pleasure. To punish. To tend. I won’t hurt you and I won’t scare you. But I will use you,” he added, as he slipped his hand between my legs and slid two fingers inside me. “For my pleasure and for yours.”

I squeezed my legs around his hand, my body clenching tight, drawing him in farther.

“Agree, and you can dance at Destiny. Say no, and you walk away tonight.”

“I’m at a disadvantage here. I’m naked. Your fingers are inside me.”

“You’re the one who took off your clothes, Sloane. That was your move, remember? I’m only playing the game. And now it’s checkmate.”

He thrust deeper inside me, and as he did, he leaned forward to lightly bite my breast. I gasped in surprise, but also in pleasure.

“I know you like risk,” he said, and there was seduction in his voice. “You like excitement. And, my darling detective, you like the way I make you feel.”

I licked my lips. After what I’d done with him, I could hardly argue.

“You came freely to my room. You stripped when I told you to. You stood naked in a window while I touched you.” His voice, low and hot, swirled around me, teasing and tempting. “And tonight, you took off your clothes in front of other men, but you thought of me.”

I’d been holding his gaze, hot and hard and defiant. But at that last, I looked away. God help me, he was right. Even now, I was having to fight the way he made me feel, the way he heated me up, so that every cell in my body burned for his touch.

But the truth was, I didn’t want to fight it. I liked the way he looked at me. Liked the fact that my nipples got hard when his gaze dipped to my breasts. Liked the fact that the tone of his voice could make my body weak with longing. I’d known lust before; I’d known attraction. But until Tyler, I’d never experienced this wild burning, this desperate, uncontrolled passion that left me hot and needy and alive.

I felt a bit like Pavlov’s dog—one look from him, and my body was primed. One touch, and I all but exploded.

It was unfamiliar and a little unnerving. But I liked it. Christ, how I liked it.

“If I told you to go back to that chair right now, you’d do it.” He spoke matter-of-factly, but I saw the challenge—and the mischief—flash in his eyes. “You’d sit in that chair and spread your legs. And if I asked you to touch yourself—to stroke and tease while I got hard watching your body grow wet and slick, so desperate to sink myself inside you that I couldn’t stand it anymore—if I told you to do that, I think you would.”

My mouth went dry, my body limp.

“Tell me the truth, Sloane. Would you do that for me?”

“Yes,” I whispered, because I already knew he would see a lie.

“Then take the deal.”

“You told me you don’t date the girls who work at the club.”

“I break all kinds of rules, Detective. But not in this case.”

I looked at him, confused. “What do you mean?”

“I’m not going to date you. I’m going to fuck you.”

A shiver ran through me, one I didn’t even bother to hide. “What exactly do you have in mind for me?” I asked.

“If I told you, it wouldn’t be as fun.”

I licked my lips. “Before, you talked about pleasure and passion and even a little fear.”

“I remember.”

“Did you mean it? Or were you trying to shake me because you knew I was a cop?”

“But you are a cop. You must know all about the impact of adrenaline. Of fear. How it heightens sensation, even the sensation of pleasure.”

“I don’t want to be tied up—”

“No,” he said, and the word was infinitely gentle. “I won’t. But I will take you to that edge, Sloane. And if you are willing, I’ll take you over.”

Our eyes locked. I’m not sure how long I stayed lost in the clear blue of his eyes. Then he spoke, softly but firmly. “That’s it. That’s the arrangement. Take it—and make me a very happy man.”

“Arrangement?” I repeated. “That sounds so polite and proper.”

“Are you suggesting I’m neither polite nor proper?”

“Not at all,” I said, then grabbed his collar and pulled my lips to his. “I’m saying flat out that I hope you’re not.” I kissed him hard, then leaned back. “When I agree to something, Mr. Sharp, I go all in.”

His brow quirked up. “I’m very pleased to hear it.”

He stood, then gave me his hand and helped me up. Slowly, he closed the jacket that I still wore, carefully fastening each button. Then he went to his desk and picked up his phone. “Greg, bring me Ms. Watson’s shoes. I imagine they’re still by Stage Four.”

Chapter Sixteen

Tyler went into the hall to meet Greg and, I presumed, to fetch the rest of my clothes as well.

But when he stepped back into the room, all he had were the shoes. “Let’s go,” he said. “Put these on and button that up.”

“Um, I kind of need my clothes.”

He leaned against the closed door. “No. You really don’t.”

I stood and buttoned the jacket, my eyes narrowed. “You’re really going to make me cross through The Drake in this?”

“One, you agreed to the terms.”

“I didn’t realize it applied to wardrobe,” I grumped, making him laugh.

“And two, we’re not heading to The Drake.” A touch of mischief lit his face. “Not yet.”

“Oh.” Fingers of dread—and, yes, of excitement and anticipation—curled through me. “Should I even ask?”

“You can,” he said. “But I won’t tell.”

He moved back to his desk and picked up the phone again. “One more thing, Greg,” he said into the handset as he tossed a ring of keys onto his desk. “Tell Cole the keys to the Ducati are in my office. I need to take the Buick tonight.”

He hung up and looked at me. “I’d lent him the car,” he said. “But I think you’ll be more comfortable in it than on the back of my bike.”

“I wouldn’t mind the bike,” I said, then glanced down at my outfit—or lack thereof. “But I’d need my clothes back.”

“We’ll have to put that on our overall to-do list.” As he looked at me, I saw the flicker of something hot on his face. Then he circled the desk and moved in front of me. I stood just a bit straighter, my body once again primed for his touch, going soft and ready simply from his proximity.

Without a word, he led me to the desk, picked me up at the waist, and sat me on the surface, my legs together and my feet dangling. I held my breath, already craving his touch.

“I think I’d like burning down the highway with your arms around me,” he said, as he took my thighs in each hand, then roughly spread them apart, sending sparks of anticipation shooting through me. Before I even had time to gasp, he’d tugged me closer, so I was barely on the table, and my sex was right there, open and ready for him.

“I wonder,” he said, as he cupped me with his hand. I drew in a shuddering breath, arching back, still so sensitive, so ready. “Would the bike’s vibration get you hot? Get you ready for me?” Slowly, he eased a finger inside me, then two, then three. I was so wet, so wanting, and my body clenched tight around him. His groan of satisfaction swept over me, and almost melted with pleasure.

“I’m always ready for you,” I whispered, then thought God help me, it’s true.

“Look at me,” he said, and once I did, I couldn’t look away. “That’s how I always want you from now on,” he said. “Hot and wet and always ready for me. I want you so wet from the thought of me that I can bend you over, tug your jeans down, and slide into you anytime I feel like it. I want to simply brush my hand over your cunt, and have you explode for me. I want your breasts to ache in constant anticipation of my touch. I want you so primed that I can take you over the edge with a single word. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” I said, though my body was so hot—my mouth so dry—that I didn’t know how I managed to form even that simple word.

“Do you want that, too?”

“God, yes,” I said, my response little more than a moan.

His fingers were still inside me, teasing and playing. He withdrew, then brushed the pad of his thumb over my clit and—oh, god, yes—the orgasm burst through me. A small storm this time, but enough to rattle me, to flush my skin, to make me weak with both satisfaction and the desire for more.

“You’re trying to keep me unbalanced,” I whispered.

I saw the flash of masculine victory in his eyes before the smile hit his lips. “Is it working?”

“Yes,” I admitted.

“Don’t worry. If you stumble, I’ll catch you.” He took a step back from the desk, then held out his hand to me. “Ready?”

I considered saying no, but it wouldn’t be true. I’d stepped into Wonderland, and I wanted the whole of the adventure. “I am,” I said, then took his hand and followed him through the door.

I followed him down the hall, frequently tugging down the hem on the jacket even though it was long enough on me to wear as a short dress.

He led me to the parking lot and then to a classic red convertible. My dad would know the year and the make, but all I knew was that it was as big as a boat and as stylish as the day it came off the line. It had a mix of soft curves and hard angles, giving it a totally retro look that I loved. “Wow,” I said.

“Yeah. She’s a beauty.” He opened the door for me, and I slid onto the bench seat, the leather warm on the back of my thighs.

“Nice,” I said, as he settled himself behind the wheel.

“Nineteen-sixty-three Buick LeSabre,” he said. “I fixed her up myself, although to be fair, she was in decent condition when I bought her. And,” he added, as he peeled out of the lot, “she drives like a dream.”

He proceeded to prove that point by opening her up once we hit the highway, so that I was squealing in surprise and delight as my hair went flying in the warm night air.

“Nice,” I said. “And although it’s got less of a vibration thing going than your motorcycle, I think we could make this bench seat work for us.” I gave the red and white leather seat a pat.

He took his eyes off the road long enough to glance at the seat—and then at me. “Interesting information. And good to know. Especially considering where we’re going.”

“Oh.” I waited a beat. “And where are we going again?”

“Nice try. But you’ll just have to wait and see.” He gave the seat a pat of his own. “You know the nice thing about bench seats? You can slide right over and get cozy.”

“Is that an invitation or an order?”

“Take your pick,” he said. “Whichever one gets you here faster.”

I grinned and slid closer. He kept his left hand on the steering wheel, but his right went to my thigh—high enough to keep my blood pumping and my body primed, but not enough to touch. All of which effectively drove me a little bit crazy.

“I’m practically naked,” I said. “I think you could take a little bit more advantage of the situation.”

“Is that what you think?”

“Or maybe you’re just not as clever and resourceful as I’d thought. Or maybe I’ve just worn you out already. Stamina,” I said with a sad shake of my head. “Some men just don’t have it.”

“Careful, or I just may have to spank you.”

“You teased me with that possibility before,” I said, squirming a little at the thought. Would it hurt? Would I like it? “So far you haven’t made good on the threat. So tell me, Mr. Sharp. How does a girl have to misbehave to be punished by you?”

“Oh, we’ll figure something out,” he promised.

Really? I’ll have to remember to misbehave.”

“Don’t worry,” he said wryly. “I’ll remind you.”

Ten minutes later, we’d arrived at a red brick building that, as far as I could tell, had no windows and no signs.

There was, however, an intercom by the set of double steel doors, and when Tyler gave them a membership number, the lock on the doors clicked open.

The doors opened into an alcove that reminded me of the entry to Destiny. A woman in a black latex bodysuit smiled at Tyler. “Welcome back.”

“Thank you, Tricia. This is my guest, Ms. Watson. If you could take her coat? And I was hoping I could use one of the collars.”

“Sure,” Tricia said, then winked at me. “Lucky you,” she said, but I barely heard her through the Klaxons ringing in my suddenly fuzzy brain.

“Collar?” I said to Tyler, as the girl disappeared through a door in the back. “She said collar? For me? And what exactly do you expect me to do once she takes my coat?”

“I’ll expect you to follow me,” he said, then smiled, slow and easy and seductive. “You recall our arrangement, don’t you? You’re mine, remember? You know what I want from you.”

“A collar,” I repeated, as my gut twisted with nerves. But even as it did, I couldn’t deny the prickles of heat building between my thighs, or the way my now erect nipples rubbed provocatively against the silk lining of the jacket.

A collar.

And nothing else.

Oh, my fucking god.

I let it all sink in. We were in a dungeon, a playroom, a BDSM parlor, whatever you wanted to call it. He wanted to take me inside, and I didn’t have even a clue what he intended to do in there.

I was nervous. Hell, I was terrified.

But I was also wildly turned on.

“Yes,” Tyler said, as he watched my face. “I think we’re going to have a very good time.”

Tricia came back and handed him a black leather collar with a single silver ring onto which was attached a leash.

Tyler took it, then crooked a finger beckoning me forward. I went, tentative, then held my breath as he brought the collar to my neck.

“Wait,” I said, then paused until he was looking me in the eye. “Just for here, right?”

He brushed a gentle kiss over my lips. “Just for here.”

He hooked the collar behind my neck, loose enough that breathing was comfortable, but still tight enough to stay in place. “The jacket,” he said. “Give it to Tricia.”

I considered arguing, but I knew I wouldn’t win. And though I’d teased in the car about misbehaving, at the moment, I really didn’t want to test the spanking waters.

I shrugged out of the jacket, folded it, then laid it on the counter in front of the girl. Her eyes skimmed over me, then she turned to Tyler. “Lovely. Do you share?”

“Not tonight,” he said, leaving me wondering what might happen on some other night. “I want the circle. Unless it’s not available.”

“Nope, you’re good,” she said, then pressed a button that caused another set of doors in front of us to swing inward. “Have fun.”

“With me,” Tyler said, and tugged gently on the leash, leading me down a dim hallway lit only with sporadically placed candles. After a few twists and turns, I started to see alcoves off the hall, some with plush furniture like a Victorian sitting room, some with much more interesting paraphernalia like sex swings and latex beds and tables crisscrossed with leather straps.

In one of the more plush rooms I saw a tall brunette dressed in black leather gently stroking the cheek of a petite blond woman with the end of a riding crop. We passed quickly, but I knew where I’d seen her before. Destiny. She was the woman who’d been with him at the bar.

“This place,” I said to Tyler, tamping down an unwelcome rush of jealousy. “Do you come here a lot?”

“I don’t, no.”

I frowned, something in his voice sparking my curiosity.

“We just passed a woman,” I said. “I saw her earlier. At Destiny.” I hesitated, then added, “You were talking with her.”

“That’s Michelle,” he said, and the name rang in my memory.

“Michelle.” I remembered the note on his computer and the conversation in his office. “Wait. Isn’t she Cole’s girlfriend?”

He stopped, then turned to me with a questioning expression. “You were in the hall,” he said, remembering.

“She’s his girlfriend, right?” I’m fucking her, Cole had said.

“No,” he said, with a touch of amusement in his voice. “Cole doesn’t date.”

“Oh.” I considered where we were and what that meant. Cole didn’t date, so what exactly did he do? “So, um, is Cole here now, too?”

“He’s not.” Tyler lifted a brow. “Do you want me to call him?”

“God no!” I had no issues with whatever arrangement he had with Michelle, but I really wasn’t keen on him seeing me naked. Or, at least, with seeing me naked when I wasn’t dancing on a stage.

“Good,” he said, then started walking again.

We soon reached the end of the hallway, and I found myself looking into a cavernous room dotted with several distinct areas. Most were shadowed, though some were more well lit. Some were occupied by only one or two people, and some seemed to have gathered a crowd. In one, a woman was on her knees, sucking the cock of a leather-clad man who stood in front of her. In another, a woman stood nude, her wrists bound and her arms stretched high above her, held fast by a chain. Another woman was lashing her with a flail, breasts, belly, sex, as the bound woman cried out in pleasure for her mistress to please let her come.

I was looking at scenes, I knew. Sexual play that ran the gamut from simple to hard core. And I had no idea where Tyler intended us to fall on the scale. I wasn’t certain if I was terrified or excited, but I did know that Tyler wouldn’t push too far. On that point at least, I trusted him completely.

I started to ask Tyler what he had in mind for me, but decided to keep my mouth shut. He’d be expecting the question, after all.

A giant metal circle mounted on a dais stood against one of the walls. It was lit from above by a soft glowing light. There was a table near the circle that had a variety of thin leather strips. Otherwise, there was nothing.

“I liked watching you dance tonight.” Tyler spoke softly as he took my hand and led me up the dais to the circle. “I liked watching you enjoy it.” He took my hand and put it on the circle’s rim.

“Tyler.” His name was a protest. Yes, I’d walked naked to this room. But now, to be standing so boldly …

“It’s okay,” he said, then brushed a kiss over my lips. “Do this, Sloane,” he said, and I knew that my choice was simple—stay with him or break our arrangement and go.

I stayed. I wanted our deal—wanted him. And I would do a lot more than stand naked in a circle of light if that’s what it took to stay in Tyler’s bed.

”Good girl,” he said. He took my opposite hand and put it on the circle as well, so that my body formed a Y within the circle. “I even liked the other men watching you, wanting you. Do you know why I liked that?”

I shook my head.

“Because I like owning what other people covet. And those men tonight, they coveted you.” He tapped my legs, indicating that he wanted me to spread them.

I licked my lips and sucked in a breath for courage, but I complied.

“But what I didn’t like was that those men at the club didn’t know you were mine. Here, anyone who walks by knows.”

The circle was bathed in light, and beyond it, I could see only shadows. But there were people in those shadows, I knew, and I imagined them coming over, looking at me, wanting me. I turned my head away, not because I was ashamed to be up there, but because I was aroused. Despite his words, despite being on display, all I wanted right then was to lose myself in Tyler’s touch.

Despite? I scoffed at myself. You’re turned on because of it. Because of Tyler. Because of who he is and where he takes you.

And it was true. So help me, it was true. I’d been aroused from the moment I met him.

“Here, I can touch you.” Tyler moved behind me, his voice smooth and seductive. “I can stroke you. I can fuck you. I can claim you completely. Do you want me to?”

“Yes,” I whispered.

“So do I. But not now. Not here.”

I twisted my head, trying futilely to see him.

“I’m going to make you come, Sloane,” he said. “I’m going to get hard watching you. Watching your nipples tighten. Watching your cunt grow slick and wet. I’m going to watch you lose yourself to pleasure, sweetheart, and I’m going to know that I’m the one who pushed you over the edge.”

“Yes,” I pleaded, as I closed my eyes. “Touch me. Please touch me.”

“I am,” he said, though it was only his voice that caressed me. “Can you feel my lips on your ear, trailing down your neck? Can you imagine my mouth closing over your breast? Can you feel me teasing your nipple with my teeth?”

My nipples tightened as I imagined him touching me, sucking me.

“You can,” he said, still behind me, his breath the only thing that was actually touching me. “I can see how much it’s turning you on.”

“I’m caressing your belly now, my hands sliding down your abdomen, my lips and tongue tasting you as your skin quivers with each touch.”

I shuddered, tightening my hands on the metal circle out of fear that I would take them off and touch myself in desperation. I felt everything he described, as if his words were a caress sending trails of fire down my body.

“I’m moving lower now, using my hands and lips to brush ever so softly over your hip, your thigh. I can see how wet you are. How open. I press my mouth to your sex and blow, just slightly, so that my breath teases your sex, cools your heat. Do you feel it?”

I nodded.

“I know you do—I can see it. The way your lips are parted. The way your pulse is beating more quickly. There’s a flush on your skin—you’re aroused, your body tight, your cunt aching with desire, your skin begging for my touch.”

“Yes, god, yes.”

“I’m touching you now,” he said. “My fingers sliding over you, feeling how slick you are. I’m teasing your clit—stroking and teasing you, then sliding my fingers deep inside you. Can you feel me, baby? Can you feel me inside you, your body tight around me as if you don’t want to let me go?”

I made a sound. That was the best that I could do.

“You’re so close now. It’s building, growing in you. Pleasure, need, like steam under pressure you’re so close to exploding, and I’m right there, touching you, relentless, taking you closer and closer.”

“Yes,” I said, my body on fire, like a mirror of his words, I was there, I was closer, I could feel every word, every syllable, every whisper of sound as sweetly as if his hands were on me.

“I can see it, Sloane. I can see how close you are. I’m hard, baby, so damn hard, and it’s all because of you. They’re here, too. Watching you. Watching us. Wanting you, but you’re mine, Sloane. You’re all mine.”

“Yours,” I whispered. I tried not to think about the eyes in the dark, afraid that if I did the embarrassment would push aside this feeling, this rising, spiraling pleasure. But I couldn’t keep them out—couldn’t block the thought that I was his, and that they knew it and watched and wanted.

And thinking that, another tremor ran through me. An undulating wave, like a new layer of pleasure.

“That’s right, baby,” he said, knowing me as intimately as I knew myself. “They’re out there, Sloane, in the shadows. They see the way your body flushes, the way your nipples go dark and tight. They can see how wet you are, how much you want this, how close you are. They look at you and see beauty, Sloane. And you like that they are looking. Like that they want you, but can’t have you. Like that you’re safe here with me, teasing them even while you know that I’m the only one who can have you.”

“Yes. Yes,” I said, because it was true. I’d never known it before, but it was so damn true.

“You’re already wet, you’re already trembling. You’re so close now, baby. Imagine me kneeling in front of you. Can you feel my tongue on your clit? My finger teasing your ass. Your body is clenching, desperate for me, wanting me, and I’m sucking and licking, lapping up the sweet taste of you as it builds inside you. As you go up and up, tighter and tighter.”

I moaned in time with his words, because I did imagine it, and he was bringing me closer. I was lost, battered, and as I opened my eyes—as I saw him looking at me, his face bathed in light and longing—I lost my hold on reality, and went spiraling out, over the shadows in the distance, out of the warehouse, and out into the night until finally, sweetly, drifting back to earth and into the arms of this man who’d touched me so deeply without even touching me.

“You’re amazing,” he said as he held me on the dais, stroking my skin, pressing light kisses to my temple, my hair.

The others were gone; there were no more shadows past the light, and I curled into him, feeling almost as if the whole thing was a dream. But it wasn’t. It was real. Tyler was real. And what I felt was very, very real.

“How did you know? How did you know I would like it that much?”

“I look at you,” he said. “Somehow, I can’t seem to look away. And I see you.”

He helped me to my feet. “Time to go,” he said, and led me back toward the entrance and then out the door to the world.

“Look at you,” he said, once we were back in the car. “Fire and beauty, and mine to control.”

“I feel wonderful,” I admitted. I turned to him and flashed a wicked grin. “I’m glad you cheated, you know.”

Surprise flickered in his eyes. “Cheated? What are you talking about?”

“This arrangement. It was a con.” I licked my lips and tilted my head as I examined him, this incredible, sensual, enigmatic man. “That’s twice now. Our first night when you pretended not to know I was a cop, and now this. I’m right, aren’t I?”

He’d started to back the car out, but now he tapped the brake. “What makes you say that?”

“Because you’d already planned to let me dance at Destiny. I didn’t have to agree to your deal to get in.”