PleasureBound (2 page)

And for all his compulsive drive for power and wealth and
prestige, he couldn’t recall ever wanting any of it quite as much as he wanted
Sam. So much so that he had to keep fighting down the more basic He-Man urges
lurking beneath his civilized exterior, spurring him to simply sling her over
his shoulder and steal her away. Too bad the practice of locking women up in
ivory towers was frowned upon in these days of namby-pamby political
correctness, not least by the women in question, themselves.

Which left him determined to get Sam off the open market by
the next best means possible—by officially bonding her to him with the chunkiest
damn wedding band he could clamp around her delicate finger, so that every
other man for miles could see that she belonged to him, and him alone.

Keeping half an ear tuned in to the breakdown of the profit
and loss forecast, he allowed himself to imagine the pleasure of coming home to
her every night of his life, of waking beside her each morning. The idea
swelled things in his chest as well as his groin and left him impatient to get
back to her. With another day’s worth of meetings and an overnight flight to
get through before he’d get her safely back in his arms, he didn’t fancy his
chances of making their reunion a gentle one. She’d better be ready to welcome
him home.

With that thought in mind, he decided to make sure Sam was
not only ready, but also willing and waiting with a desperate need that matched
his own. He checked his watch. If he got things tied up here soon, he could fit
in a trip to 5th Avenue before his next scheduled meeting and arrange to send
her something sheer and sexy to wear.

Something pretty enough he wouldn’t be able to resist
ripping it right off.

Chapter Two

The slinky new lingerie she wore was tight enough in all the
right places to have Sam squirming with delight.

Shifting on the window seat, she tried to keep her attention
focused on the urban streetscape laid out below her first floor living-room
window. Yet despite her best efforts to ignore the luxurious scraps of barely
there satin and lace caressing her most tender parts, she was driven to
distraction by the delicious friction each and every movement caused.

To make matters worse, the fine jersey of her wrap dress
clung to every curve, whispering against her skin and electrifying every nerve
ending. The torture was exquisite.

It was mid-Friday morning and her birthday, although the
weather was giving no cause for celebration. The day had dawned gray and dreary
and had pretty much plummeted downhill from there, but with Adam due to appear
at any moment, not even the lowering skies and persistent rain could dampen her
spirits.

By contrast, the one thing she was unable to stop growing
damper by the second was the lace between her thighs. After almost a full week
apart, the anticipation of Adam’s imminent arrival was proving to be more than
the gossamer-fine fabric could cope with. Sam fidgeted again on the cushioned
seat, re-crossing her legs and shivering at the accompanying intimate rasp.

The thrill of seeing Adam again aside, she had to admit
that, thanks to her crazy plan, she hadn’t felt this worked up about a birthday
since hers had still been in single figures, when she’d leap from her bed the
instant her eyes popped open and launch herself at her soundly sleeping
parents, jumping all over them until they roused and lavished love and
attention and presents on her. Of course, she was a big girl now with an
apartment of her own, and her parents could at last rest easy as the only
person she’d consider jumping all over in bed these days was Adam.

And if she’d been a little disappointed to have woken up
without him today? Well, the early morning delivery of his gift—the gorgeous
underwear from an exclusive Manhattan boutique, beautifully packaged complete
with handwritten gift card tucked into the tissue paper—had brought plenty of
that youthful excitement back. If not quite the same sense of innocence.

Put these on for me today, Birthday Girl
, Adam’s
bold, black scrawl had instructed,
and know that soon, every millimeter of
flesh, every intimate secret covered by these pretty silk triangles will be
stripped bare and reclaimed by sight, and touch, and taste. I look forward to
getting my hands on you
.

Not as much as Sam was looking forward to the prospect of
getting her hands on him. Having cleared her business and social diaries for
three full days, she was impatient to head off for her long, hot birthday-treat
weekend. And, unlike Adam, whose feet would barely have time to touch the
ground between landing from one flight and taking off on the next thanks to a
delayed departure from JFK, she’d been packed and more than ready for hours.
With nothing to do except wait, she’d taken to checking her watch every few
minutes—an exercise that only served to make the time drag and amplify the
twinges of anxiousness underlying the buzz of sexual tension.

Sam felt her gaze pulled to the suitcase she’d left sitting
by the front door as she considered, not for the first time that morning, the
Adam-sized restraints that lay stashed within. Teeth worrying at her lower lip,
she once again questioned the wisdom of her plan, concerned with the possible
consequences that acting on it could have.

Aware that she was playing a risky game—one that at best was
going to trigger an almighty battle of wills, and at the very worst could even
put her relationship with Adam on the line—Sam also knew that if they stood any
hope of having a happy future together, it was a gamble she was going to have
to sooner or later take. Not only did she owe it to both of them to be true to
her own desires, she’d also like to know that when push came to shove, she had
an equal voice in their relationship. Because, while there was no doubt she
loved Adam with all her heart, she’d be the first to admit that he wasn’t
always the easiest of men to live with. Successful, powerful and wealthy, he
didn’t get where he was without also being tough and ruthless and, frankly,
bossy as hell.

Despite being no stranger to those particular character
traits herself, Sam sometimes felt that trying to conduct anything resembling a
two-way relationship with him was as exhausting as swimming against a riptide,
requiring a near constant effort to avoid being swept away by an immensely
strong force. And as much as she enjoyed being caught up in the swirl and
excitement of life with such a commanding, larger-than-life man, she
couldn’t—wouldn’t—risk letting her own needs and desires go down in his
undertow.

The good news for her was that Adam wouldn’t want that
either. Not really. He was no despotic control freak after all. He just came
wired with a naturally dominant personality. And although the last thing Sam
would ever want was to change a single hair on his overbearing head, she would
like some assurance that she wasn’t getting in over her head.

What better way than by asking for this gesture, this
compromise, this small token sacrifice of control on Adam’s part to show that
she had a chance in hell of at least treading water with him?

The only trouble was—she wasn’t sure the word “compromise”
even featured in his vocabulary. Perhaps it might be a good idea to pack a
dictionary as well?

Too late, she realized, turning her attention back to the
window. There he was! Despite the feelings of doubt and trepidation making her
stomach churn, Sam was on her feet the moment she spotted the familiar sleek
lines of a dark Mercedes gliding its way down the street in the steady flow of
traffic.

Grabbing her things and locking the apartment behind her,
she rushed down the communal stairs. Dropping her bags onto the polished
hallway floor, she flung the entrance door wide.

Arm outstretched to the intercom panel set beside the door
and raindrops glinting like crystals in the dark waves of his hair, Adam stood
there in the drizzle, his gorgeous smile splitting wide when he saw her.

Sam grinned too, giddy as a schoolgirl with a first crush,
but before she could say anything, Adam stepped forward, firm hands coming up
to grasp her shoulders as he pushed her back inside the building. His deep-blue
gaze—clear and penetrating as ever despite the travails of an overnight
flight—locked onto hers as he kicked the door shut, pulled her up against his
chest and kissed her soundly.

His lips carried the chill of the morning, but the demanding
quest of Adam’s tongue was all heat as it swept deep into her mouth tasting of
toothpaste and strong coffee. Beneath Sam’s clutching fingers, the wool of his
jacket felt cool and damp, but from the unbuttoned neck of his shirt, the warm
scent of freshly showered male rose, filling her nostrils and wrapping around
her senses. With a moan she melted, giving herself up to the pleasure of his embrace.

“Christ, I missed you,” Adam breathed when he eventually let
them up for air, still holding her tight to him. “Happy birthday.”

“I missed you too.” Sam looked up into his eyes and panted.
“And thanks for the beautiful presents.”

That blue gaze sharpened, a flame of very male interest
igniting in the depths. “You’re wearing them?”

Sam gave him her best coquettish smile. “Of course.”

“I need to see.” Adam’s voice was gruff as he swung their
bodies around and pushed Sam’s spine up against the door.

Crowding every inch of his six-foot-two frame close, he bent
his head to trail kisses along her jaw while his fingers traced the deep
crossover neckline of her dress, leaving a path of goose bumps in their wake.
Dipping down into her cleavage, he pulled the fabric away from her curves and
feasted his eyes on the pert globes of her breasts cupped by the sculpted lace
of her bra.

“Beautiful,” he breathed, burying his face in the curve of
her neck and kissing her there, open-mouthed, as his hands covered her breasts,
molding, shaping, squeezing. Lower down, he pressed the bulge of an
impressively large erection hard against her belly. Oh, yeah. He’d missed her,
all right.

Head spinning, senses reeling, Sam moaned as Adam’s hands
ran down over the contours of her torso and slipped inside the front split of
her dress. She gasped when his fingertips met the moist heat between her legs.
Adam’s whole body stiffened.

“Fuck.” The word was barely out before he dropped into a
crouch in front of Sam, hands urgent as they pushed at her hem. “They’re wet
through already,” he rasped, clocking the soggy state of her new underwear. His
hair tickled against her skin as he bent his head forward to breathe in the
scent of her desire.

Shivering, Sam threaded her fingers through the rain-flecked
locks while Adam’s sure touch skimmed over the expensive satin and pressed
against the very center of her need. An explosion of burning sensation shot out
from that one pulsing spot that had been crying out for just such attention for
days. With a whimper, she arched her hips forward, pushing harder against his
fingers.

Adam growled in response to her reaction, lunging forward to
replace his fingers with his mouth, sucking and tasting Sam through the
delicate fabric, the heat and hunger of his intimate kiss stoking the firestorm
brewing inside her and stealing the oxygen from her lungs.

She felt his fingers hook into the thin waistband and start
to drag the lace down over her hips when the bang of a door sounded deep within
the building, shocking them both back to their senses.

With a curse, Adam surged to his feet, letting the folds of
Sam’s dress drop back into place. Pausing to catch his breath, he did a double
take when he caught sight of her pleasure-dazed expression, his eyes flicking
up the stairs in the direction of her apartment then down at his watch. Another
harsh curse.

“I wish I had time to drag you upstairs and strip you down
as I’d intended, but we’re running late enough as it is,” he said, tone tight
with frustration. “Traffic’s a nightmare and we’ll miss the flight if we don’t
leave now.”

Sam nodded reluctantly, wondering how the hell she hoped to
make a serious bid for control this weekend when only a few minutes in Adam’s
company left her so overpowered and weak-willed she could barely think.

She didn’t have time to ponder an answer as she found
herself the recipient of another lip-crushing, bone-melting kiss before being
hustled, still panting and a little unsteady, out into the rain.

Adam handed Sam’s luggage to Richards, his executive driver,
and followed her into the back seat of the car, his heart tumbling around
behind his ribs like an overexcited puppy at the joy of seeing her again. His
dick, every bit as happy, continued to inflate inside his trousers as his gaze
ran hungrily over her curves. Christ, he had it bad.

The dress she was wearing was a knock-out, its wrap-over
design clinging to and accentuating her feminine contours and offering oh so
easy access to the gifts hidden beneath. And now he’d seen just how enticing
those gifts looked in the seductive new packaging he’d sent, well—how was a
deprived man supposed to resist such temptation?

“I don’t know how long I’ll be able to stand this,” he
muttered, crowding in close beside her so that their bodies pressed together
from shoulder to ankle.

“Stand what?” Sam asked, making to shift over to give him
more space.

Adam clamped a big hand over her knee to prevent her from
moving so much as an inch. At the same time he draped his other arm along the
back of the seat behind her.

“Behaving in a gentlemanly manner,” he said before bending
his mouth close to her ear. “I’ve got the taste of you on my tongue, Sam.” His
voice lowered to a husky whisper, his palm started an upward glide. “And I want
more. Part your legs for me.”

He heard her sharp intake of breath, felt her body
stiffen—the reaction unmistakable, her need as urgent as his own. It was all he
could do not to fling her legs wide, bare her breasts and take it all from her
on the spot, fast and furious.

“Not here!” Sam struggled to gasp, squeezing her thighs
together and grabbing his hand to stop its advance as Richards retook his
position behind the wheel.

“Yes, right here. Right now,” Adam insisted, standing his
ground.

“Adam,” Sam protested giving him an imploring look that told
him he should stop. “Please!”

But like a hound on the scent, he had no intention of
stopping. “I want to touch you,” he whispered, his lips jostling against the
delicate shell of her ear as the car eased away from the pavement and rejoined
the slow flow of city traffic. “I want to make you come all over my fingers,
just so I can lick it all off.”

He felt the sensual shudder run all the way down to Sam’s
toes, heard her curse under her breath. Taking ruthless advantage, he moved in
for the kill, finding that special spot below her ear and teasing it with his
lips and teeth while his fingertips played against her inner thighs. For the
space of several heartbeats, she remained rigid against him then began to
soften, surrendering to his caresses and the needs of her body. With a sigh,
she opened herself to him.

“That’s my girl,” he whispered on a relieved breath, hand
sliding immediately upward, his fingers searching out the edge of those
near-to-nothing panties. For a horrible moment there, he’d thought she meant to
refuse him. The fact that she couldn’t seem to resist even though she obviously
wanted to, made him feel ten fucking feet tall. “Now keep nice and quiet or
you’ll distract Richards from his job.”

Of course, Adam knew Richards was no fool. Even if Sam
managed not to make a peep—unlikely as she was both a delightful squirmer and a
moaner—he’d know exactly what was going on. Hell, he’d be able to go by the
scent alone. No way any man with a nose could miss the heady fragrance of ripe,
over-ready woman perfuming such a confined space. Despite all that, Adam knew
the driver would never bat an eyelid. Richards was a professional through and
through.