Текст книги "Sinfully Mine"

Автор книги: Kendall Ryan

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“It’s called a riding crop,” Reece leans over and whispers.

“Does it hurt?” Given the way the woman being spanked is leaning into it and moaning tells me no, but I don’t know if I trust her judgment. These people could all be half-crazy for all I know.

“Depends on how it’s used.” His answer is coy, frustrating me since it tells me nothing about the toy or about his preferences for play. Of course, it only makes me more curious. Maybe that was his intention all along.

As we continue the tour, Reece points to a series of closed doors at the far end of the hall. “Those are the private rooms for people who don’t want to put on a show, and want to experience something more intimate.”

“And what about you? Which of these rooms do you prefer to play in?”

“Depends on who I’m with. If my partner is more of an exhibitionist, or if I think the experience of being watched will push her outside her comfort zone, we might play in one of the common rooms. But for the most part, I tend to be a closed-door kind of guy.”

Studying him for a moment, I try to digest everything I’ve just seen and reconcile it with the teenaged Reece I remember. I come up short; it just doesn’t compute. How the hell did he get from there to here?

“Care to fill me in on the last six years? I mean, this is quite a detour from the man I knew.”

He shrugs. “There’s really nothing to tell. I have certain needs and interests. And when I couldn’t find a place to satisfy all of those interests, I opened my own.”

“How did you get this way?” I wince a little, not meaning to blurt it out like an accusation, then soften my voice. “I just don’t remember you ever having this fetish side to you.”

His gaze darkens, telling me he’s hiding something from me. It makes me wonder; Cameron never mentioned anything out of the ordinary. Anytime I asked about Reece, my brother would merely give me a noncommittal grunt, and when I pushed and asked if Reece was seeing anyone, Cam’s reluctant response was always, “Several.”

I’m really not sure what to make of this new revelation that Reece owns this place, that he lives and breathes BDSM, but I’m trying to loosen up and go with it. It’s exactly what I need to push all the depressing thoughts from my brain. It’s the ultimate distraction, perfectly timed.

“Come on. You’ve probably had a long day,” he says, offering me his hand.

“Where are we going?” I place my palm in his. His skin is warm, and an intoxicating male scent greets me as I get closer, some type of upscale men’s cologne. Yummy.

“Do you have anywhere to stay tonight?”

I shake my head. “I was planning to get a hotel room somewhere.”

“It’s almost midnight. You probably won’t be able to get a cab or a hotel room at this hour. Come on. You can stay in my apartment. It’s upstairs.”

“I could just stay down here, see if I can find someone to entertain myself with.” After what I’ve just witnessed, I’m sure that won’t be difficult. Shit, it might even be fun.

He grips my hand tightly, and his reaction gives me a little spurt of confidence. “The hell you will. You’re going to bed.”

Pulling my hand away, I plant both hands on my hips and meet his icy stare. “I’m not tired.”

“Too damn bad. I don’t want to have to worry about you.”

“This isn’t like when we were kids, Reece.”

“You think I don’t know that? You’re all woman and that’s exactly why I’m not leaving you down here alone. It’d be like throwing you to the wolves.”

“Maybe I want a little trouble.” I raise my eyebrows suggestively.

He leans in closer. “Or I can tell Hale where you are.”

Point taken. Changing tactic, I ask, “Do you have a bathtub?”

His puzzled expression betrays his confusion. “I do.”

“Fine, let’s go. I think I’ll take a hot soak. I’ve been traveling all day.”

I follow him to the elevator, where he inserts a special key and hits a button for the top floor. No wonder this address came up when I searched for him. It’s not only his business, but also his residence. Reece has really submersed himself in this world, and I wish I understood more about it and the man he’s morphed into while I’ve been away.

“You never answered my question,” I say, finally feeling the full effects of the alcohol. I’m drowsy and tipsy, and liable to say anything right about now.

“And what question was that?” His voice is way too in control, and it’s annoying me.

“You. Me.” I lift one eyebrow.

“You’re going to have to be more specific.”

Fuck it. Throwing caution to the wind, I lick my lips, noting the way his eyes follow the movement. “About you, pounding into me from behind. Me, screaming out your name.”

“I told you. I need to talk to Hale.”

“And say what?” I shoot back.

“I’m not doing this again without his blessing.”

“Nothing happened.” Nothing but a broken heart and six long years of mourning what could have been. For me it was young love, but to him it’s ancient history, if the brash tone of the man before me is any indicator.

“Enough happened.”

The elevator jerks to a stop, and when the doors open I follow him down a dimly lit hallway, the bite of rejection stinging with each step I take.

He walks in front of me and when he glances back, I wish I could read his expression. Aside from the tic of his jaw and set of his posture, he gives away nothing. Maybe it was a mistake coming here.

When he unlocks the door and lets us inside, it’s like I’ve tripped a live explosive, because Reece pushes my back against the wall and his lips crash down on mine. His mouth is hot, demanding, and needy, speaking a language I readily comprehend.

Every nerve ending in my body hums to life at once. Yes, yes, yes. This is why I came here, this right here. His presence alone forces every stray thought from my brain so I can just feel. I kiss him back, licking against his tongue, unable to help the small mewling cries that escape me as I press my body close to his.

He pulls away suddenly, making me mourn the loss of his firm body looming over mine. “Some things have changed since you’ve been gone,” he says tightly. “If we do this, you will play by my rules. There will be no topping from the bottom. Your wrists will be bound by my ropes. That hot, tight cunt will be wrapped around my cock, and you won’t come until I say.”

My knees tremble, and my breath catches in my throat. Please. Yes, to all of that. Times one hundred.

“I understand, sir,” I murmur.

That word does interesting things to him. His pupils dilate and he forces his mouth on mine again, sucking on my tongue, and grips my ass roughly through my jeans. My center turns molten and my panties go damp.

“Fuck. You still taste so good. Just like I remember.” He pulls his lips from mine and lands a sharp swat against my ass.

“Ouch.” I rub the tender cheek. “What was that for?”

“For giving me this when I have to go back to work.” His hand drops down to grip the bulge at the front of his pants.

My, my. I giggle. “Sorry.”

“Come on. I have a guest room.” He leads me into a bedroom down the hall furnished only with a large bed with crisp white sheets and a gray duvet. “Is this okay?”

“Yes.” I look around. I only have my purse, having left all my bags in my car, which is parked several blocks away.

“Something to sleep in?” he asks.

“Please.”

He returns moments later holding a Chicago Cubs T-shirt. It’s soft and faded from numerous washings, its original navy color now more of a muted blue. It’s perfect. “Thank you.”

“The bathroom is at the end of the hall, and the towels are in the cabinet under the sink.”

I sit down on the edge of the bed, tired and confused. My attraction to him is even stronger than I imagined it could be after all these years, and I’m not sure what to make of that. This was supposed to be daring and fun. It wasn’t supposed conjure up a bunch of memories and what-ifs.

Reece gazes at me as if he’s cataloging all the ways I’ve changed over the years. Without saying a word, he stalks closer and takes my hand. My nails are polished jet black, my signature color lately, and he looks displeased somehow.

“This is new,” he says at last.

I pull my hand away and nod toward his tattooed arm that I’ve only caught glimpses of. “So is that.”

He nods. “So it is.”

As he studies me with those dark eyes again, I’m unnerved. Things have changed between us. We have changed. And I have no idea if we still fit together. It’s a thought that depresses me.

“Are you sure it’s okay that I’m here?” I ask.

“Of course. You’ll be safe here. I promise. The elevator only works with my key, and I’m the only one with a copy. And I’ll lock the dead bolt to the front door when I leave.”

“No, I just meant I don’t want to complicate things for you.” I hadn’t even thought to ask if he was dating someone.

“Just let me figure some things out, okay?”

I nod, understanding that he’s not going to sidestep Hale this time. We’re both adults now, and even if I’m annoyed, I appreciate that he’s acting like a grown man.

“Get some rest, okay?” He pulls the blankets down on the side of the bed, as if he’s going to tuck me in.

“You can’t stay?” I was kind of hoping we could talk, catch up more.

“It’s one of the busiest nights of the year for the club. I need to make sure everyone stays safe and has fun.”

How responsible of him. I’m not sure what I expected when I showed up here tonight. Part of me hoped we’d drop our pants and hump like bunnies, but to be honest, I like this grown-up, mature adult version of Reece. He’s going to make sure things are right first, pave the way for us before we begin. It already feels more serious than I counted on.

“Okay. I’ll see you later then.”

He leans in toward me and plants a soft kiss on my lips. “Happy New Year, Pancake.”

“Happy New Year.”

The air feels full of new beginnings and promises to explore. Only I’m not sure if that’s a good thing or a bad thing.

Chapter Three

Reece

 

I must have a death wish, because this lunch is likely to end with my homicide. Hale and I are sitting in our favorite bistro, our food growing cold in front of us.

When Macey strolled so casually back into my life, I was thrown. But only for a moment, because now I have a plan. She wants to play? Fine. I’ll play the game, but this time she’ll be playing by my rules.

Hale seems distracted; he keeps checking his phone for some reason.

“Do you have something going on?” I ask, taking a tentative bite of my sandwich.

He shakes his head. “No, just reading a message from Brielle.” His mouth forms into a silly grin. The bastard.

I sigh, setting my food aside. I never thought I’d see the day Cameron Hale fell in love. I can use this to my advantage. Maybe his softer side will triumph, and he won’t want to kill me when I tell him what I came here to say. Still, I decide to stall, like the pussy I am.

“How are things between you and Brielle? The other night was pretty intense.” I can’t help but remember the way her eyes followed him around the room, as if he was her answer to life’s every question.

“She’s it for me. I’ve been burned in the past, and I know you probably think I’m insane, but I’m going to ask her to marry me.”

Whoa. “Not insane at all. Even a blind man could have seen the love between you two. I’m happy for you. Besides, Brielle is nothing like that super-whore Tara.”

He grunts. He doesn’t like to talk about Tara, but he knows I’m right. They’re worlds apart. Brielle is sweet and thoughtful and kind. Tara only saw Hale as her personal bank account. I’m pretty sure she zeroed in on him when she found out about the trust his parents left him, like a cheetah stalking a gazelle.

“How was the rest of the night? The club was packed,” Hale remarks.

“Yeah, business was great. We made a killing, and new memberships have been pouring in since the event. My office staff is working overtime just to keep up with the demand.”

“Congratulations.” He lifts his water glass to mine.

“Thanks, man.” When I opened this club three years ago, I could have never imagined the success I’ve found. Apparently, sex sells. And well.

We eat in comfortable silence for a few minutes while I contemplate what I came here to talk to him about. Macey. Why am I going to bat for her? Because as much as I hate to admit it, we have unfinished business between us. She left me with the worst blue balls and a broken heart years ago. It’s time to settle the score.

“How’s Macey doing?” I ask, like I don’t know firsthand.

She’s been back for two days, already hunting for an apartment in the city. I think she planned to stay with her brother, but given that he has a roommate, and I’m guessing he’s going to be moving on to live with Brielle soon, it’s left Macey to fend for herself. Not that she minds. She’s a tough cookie.

“How did you know she was back?” he asks with a stunned look on his face.

Shit.

I definitely can’t tell him she’s been staying in my guest room for the past two nights. She left this morning to go look at apartments and secondhand furniture with her nana.

“She came by the club.”

“What? When?”

I take a deep breath, working up the courage for what I’m about to tell him. “New Year’s Eve.”

“Seriously? Why didn’t you tell me? How did she even know about the club?”

“She said when she got into town and you weren’t home, she Googled me, and that’s what came up. Remember when security called me that night to meet up with a woman who was asking for me?”

“Holy shit. That was when you were helping me with Brielle.”

I nod. “Yeah, I know.”

“So, what the fuck happened?”

My gut twists painfully. Dammit. Food was a bad idea. I should have thought this through. I’m about to tell her damn brother that she came in demanding sex. This is not my finest moment.

“She’s just come off a bad breakup, as you know, and she wants . . .” My voice cracks and I cough, clearing my throat.

“She wants what?” Hale’s eyes narrow on mine, etching lines across his forehead.

I force some confidence into my voice, standing my ground. She’s an adult now, I remind myself. “She wants to experience BDSM.”

“The fuck she does.” The vein in his neck throbs as realization crosses his features. “And what, I suppose you’re going to train her?” He barks out a laugh, but there’s no humor in his tone.

I say nothing, but I meet his eyes and tip my head.

Hale tenses, lowering his voice to a dangerous tone. “There’s no fucking way. She’s a good girl, Reece. She—just no. Absolutely no. My answer is no.”

“She wants to learn, Hale. She’s eager.”

“For the fuck of fuck. Don’t tell me how eager my little sister is. You realize I’m three seconds away from punching you in the crotch, yes?”

“What if I showed her . . . without sexual contact?”

“Two seconds.” His fists tighten at his sides, and I stifle the urge to shield my manhood.

Summoning my courage, I lean forward, resting my elbows on the table. “Just listen. If I don’t show her, you and I both know she’s determined enough to venture out on her own. This is Macey we’re talking about, the girl who tried to join Boy Scouts because you and I were in it. The girl who in sixth grade built an entire empire of lemonade stands with locations all over the damn city. You know how headstrong she is. Do you really want her at another club, with another Dom who doesn’t know a flogger from a bullwhip working with her?”

He growls out some unintelligible sound.

“I didn’t think so.” Ya fucktard.

Hale may not like it, but I know he trusts me. The Dom training Macey should be me, whether either of us likes it or not.

“No sexual contact.” He pins me with an icy stare.

I raise my hands in mock defense. “Wouldn’t dream of it, brother.” Except for every fucking night. But I can’t help what my brain thinks about when I’m unconscious.

“I fucking mean it, Reece.” He still looks seconds away from punching me, but my small victory lifts my spirits.

“You know . . . ,” I say, my fingers tapping my chin. “Inherently, a Dom/sub relationship is sexual, whether we’re, you know, doing the dirty or not.” I lift one eyebrow.

“I know that. Which is why I hate this entire conversation.”

“I’m just saying, you know Macey, she’s not going to go for some watered-down lesson where nothing’s ventured and nothing’s gained. She’ll leave and find herself a real Dom if I don’t do this right.”

“Christ.” He rubs his hands across his face. “You show her the basics. But no penetration. Do not fuck my sister,” he repeats slowly, his tone dead serious.

“Got it.” I smirk, feeling like I’ve just won the damn state lottery.

“Careful, asshole. You’re walking a very thin line. That’s my goddamn little sister,” he growls.

As if I didn’t know that.

“One more thing. I—uh, might have let it slip that you’re a member of the club.”

“God-fucking-dammit, Reece.”

“Sorry, dude.” I try to look contrite, but I almost want to laugh at the expression on his face. It’s a mix between someone kicked his puppy and he’s going to strangle me.

“Thanks for lunch.” I toss down a couple of twenties and get the fuck out of there before he can change his mind. Plus, I’m eager to get back to the club and see Macey.

Chapter Four

Macey

 

When Reece left this morning, saying he had business to attend to, I wasn’t expecting him home just a couple of hours later. So when he arrives and finds me dancing around his apartment in a pair of yoga pants and an old T-shirt, I let out a squeal of surprise.

He holds up both hands, a grin tugging up his sexy mouth. “Sorry to startle you.”

“No, it’s . . . okay.” I pull my earbuds from my ears, aware I’m talking entirely too loudly.

His gaze slowly moves down my body, sliding over my curves before coming to a rest on my face. “Keep yourself busy, did you?”

“Something like that.”

He surveys the apartment, taking in my handiwork. His apartment is gorgeous with its tall ceilings and modern furniture. But it had all the distinct makings of a bachelor pad, so I busied myself with correcting that today in my free time.

His brow furrows and his mouth eases down from a smile into more of a grimace. Shit. I hadn’t given two thoughts about tidying up and organizing. Nana and I were supposed to spend the morning looking at apartments, but I fell in love with the first place we saw, put a deposit down, and was back early. And a bored Macey with nothing to do is a dangerous thing.

Reece’s apartment was clean but it was lacking in organization, so I straightened his bookshelves, cleaned out old leftovers from his fridge, and organized all of his Economist magazines by order of date, leaving them stacked neatly near his armchair. Then I tackled the closets, de-cluttering and taming the mess that’s accumulated from him living as a bachelor for so many years.

I hadn’t realized that he’d be mad, but the look on his face says that he is. I’ve invaded his personal space. He’s invited you to sleep in the guest room, not flounce around like you own the damn place.

“I’m sorry,” I blurt.

After surveying the living spaces, he heads toward his bedroom with me quick on his heels. I’m worried he’s going to explode when he sees what I’ve done in there.

He stops and stands in the doorway. I’ve moved his writing desk under the window, and switched the tall bookcase to a narrow wall between the doors to his closet and bathroom. It just fits better on that wall. More feng shui.

After a brief and silent pause, Reece heads into the large walk-in closet and looks over the rows of clothes.

“Did you face all my hangers the same way?”

“Yes, and I organized your shirts by color family. See?” I point to the white shirts that lead to the gray, light blue, then navy, and finally black shirts at the back.

“Why?” He turns to face me, his expression quizzical.

“I’m sorry, I . . . I was just trying to be helpful. We can put everything back if you like. Well, except for those Thai leftovers in the fridge. Those are long gone.” Down the garbage disposal, along with the scent of aged curry. Gross.

He nods thoughtfully, his face a stern mask. “I don’t even remember the last time I had Thai food.” His fingertips skim over the rows of hanging shirts.

“Oh, and I picked you up a bath mat, because you didn’t have one.”

He turns to face me, his expression impassive. “Did you find an apartment today?”

“Yes. Not far from here, actually. It’s in Lincoln Park. They have a third-floor unit open now, so I put a deposit down and can move in a couple of days. I need a bed, a couch, and dishes, pretty much everything. It sucks starting over.”

I don’t want to think about the fact that the dirtbag Tony got all of my hard-earned things in the breakup, simply because I couldn’t afford to ship it all across the country. And while furnishing a new apartment will cost me almost as much, I can do it at my own pace, and my stuff won’t be tainted by sour memories.

Reece exits the closet, and I follow him back out to the living room. “I’ll help you move whenever you’re ready.” He thumbs through his stack of magazines and cocks an eyebrow at me.

Embarrassed, I glance away. They’re now organized by issue date. I seriously feel like an idiot for going through all of his stuff. My intention wasn’t to snoop, just to keep myself busy. I’ll need to look for a job sooner than I realized.

I can only dodge Cameron’s questions for so long about which friend I’ve been staying with. I’ve been vague up until this point, knowing he won’t take the news well that I’ve been sleeping just down the hall from Reece. He’s always been the consummate older brother, concerned and overprotective, even more so after our parents passed.

When I sit down on the couch, Reece settles across from me in his leather armchair. “I talked to Hale about your request.”

A flash of nerves hits my belly. I can only imagine how that conversation went. I’d have literally died of embarrassment if I’d been present for that conversation. “What did he say?”

He licks his lips and a crooked smile forms on his mouth. “If it weren’t for him being madly in love with Brielle, I’m fairly certain I’d have ended up in the hospital.”

I chew on my lip. My brother? In love? I’ll need more information on that soon. “That bad?”

“No, actually. He agreed that you and I could work together on exploring BDSM.” His gaze skitters away from mine, and he’s entirely too calm. Not to mention, it doesn’t sound like something Cam would agree to. Like ever.

He’s leaving something out.

“That’s it? He was fine with it?” My voice reveals my disbelief.

“The only caveat is there will be no sex.”

I glare at him as if he’s grown three heads. That’s the point. The entire fucking point. “Are you fucking kidding me?” I don’t whether to laugh or to cry. “That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard.” There’s no way in fuck I’m agreeing to that, but I don’t want to shoot myself in the foot before we even begin. “Cam’s an idiot,” I say instead, waiting to feel him out.

Reece shrugs. “He’s your older brother. It’s to be expected.”

“So . . . how do we do this?” Do I drop my pants here, or are we venturing down into the club?

“It’ll be three lessons. I think you’ll be satisfied with that.”

My heart hammers wildly in my chest at the knowledge we’re actually going to do this. Three lessons. With Reece Jackson, the Dominant. “When do we start?”

“Tonight. I have work to do today, but we’ll have dinner and discuss your goals and limits. Do you like Cuban food?”

I level him with my stare. “I lived in Miami for two years. Of course I do.”

“Perfect. There’s a good restaurant we can meet at tonight just down the street. The food is excellent, and the lighting is low. It’s quiet enough to talk, but loud enough to not be overheard.”

“Okay,” I agree.

“Give me your phone.”

“Why?”

“I always exchange numbers with submissives I’m working with.”

He says it so dismissively, as if I’m nothing more than one of his playthings, as if we don’t have a deep and complicated history. I hand my phone over reluctantly, probably some leftover reaction from Tony’s constant distrust and questions. He used to read my texts, even though I was nothing but faithful to him.

Glancing at me curiously, Reece adds, “And I’m going to text you the address of the restaurant.”

“All right. Sounds good. I’ll see you there.”

“Seven o’clock. Don’t be late, Macey.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it, sir.” I can’t help the sass in my voice. One way or another, I will get my way.