Terms of Surrender (18 page)

"Don't worry. I won't do anything to you here. Too many witnesses."

"Sounds like you have some deep dark intentions."

"The darkest."

"Can we go, then?"

He pulled back to look at her. "In a hurry?" His fingers brushed her curls, made her tremble uncontrollably.

Slany struggled not to close her legs against him. She closed her eyes, instead, as sparkles and stars flashed before them. "I thought you said you wouldn't do anything to me here."

"You mean this?" He slowly slipped a finger inside her, held it there as she caught her breath and turned to peer at him. "Does this bother you?"

"No…it…I…" She gritted her teeth, on the verge of screaming, and clenched her legs against his hand, but that only made it worse when he began wiggling his finger around inside her.

"Do you want me to stop?"

"I want to get out of here so we can—"

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"What, Slany? Tell me what you want us to do. Say it. And don't be nice."

"So we can…can…" She tried not to squirm as he stroked near her hot spot, leaned her forehead against his, shivering and beginning to perspire as she sank her top teeth into her bottom lip. "So we can…
fuck.
"

"Check, please!"

* * * *

He thought about Kate, wondered if she had gone along with her abductor—because he believed she had been taken against her will, despite that message and the police's assurances—

as easily as Slany was going along with him, wondered if she knew her abductor.

Did Kate trust this unknown individual as Slany seemed to trust him? Had that trust been her undoing?

Nick shook his head, as if to shake off the unthinkable. Instead, he considered the woman sitting beside him, despite the outcome with her being just as mysterious and emotionally draining as the unknown whereabouts of Kate.

The more time he spent around Slany, the more he was in awe—of her strength of will and her willingness to relinquish it to him because he asked it—and the more he feared the feelings in him that she tapped.

Nick concentrated on the road, determined not to let inappropriate emotions surface. It was too early in the relationship to think beyond anything except the physical, her pleasure and acquiescence. It was too early in the game for the player to be played.

He reached for the tuner on the dashboard, turned on the CD, and the Lexus's well-insulated interior filled with the smoky voice of John Legend singing
Ordinary People
.

Nick smiled at the lyrics, had never paid as much attention to Mr. Legend's words with so much care, the bridge
take it slow
meaning more to him now than ever before.

"I like this." Slany swayed in her seat to the melodic piano rhythms and smooth vocals.

"So, how is the whole CD? Worth slapping down my fifteen bucks, or only this song and one other worth mentioning?"

"If you like this one, I think you'll like the entire thing. Definitely worth the money."

She nodded and reached for the glove compartment with a perfunctory, "May I?"

Nick didn't blink. He knew that unlike some men, he didn't have what might be considered incriminating items within. He took meticulous care of his vehicle, and since he never brought women back to his place, he never had to worry about finding mementos like telltale underwear, jewelry, or other items that might be found by another female or warrant a gratuitous meeting to return said item.

However, he had forgotten about the unopened pack of cigarettes and didn’t remember them, or that he hadn't had a cigarette in a week, until Slany held the pack aloft and wiggled it back and forth.

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“You can throw those out,” he said.

She arched a brow. "Not on my account, I hope."

Nick shrugged, didn't want to give her the idea that she was the reason behind his unexpected abstinence, though she was. "I've been meaning to quit for a while now."

A warm hand reached in and squeezed his heart in a vise grip at her knowing grin.

He was beginning to wonder who was the Dominant here—him, or her.

"I noticed you didn't light up after dinner, which is usually about the time most smokers do light up. After a good meal."

"Or after good sex."

"Won't we be smoking enough during?"

He chuckled, but said nothing, not even when Slany searched further in the glove compartment.

He should have been annoyed that she was invading his privacy, should have chastised her about her rudeness, but he didn't. He was only glad she felt comfortable enough around him to take the liberty.

What did that say about this whole D/s relationship? Would he be able to pull off the Dominant sexually when he couldn't deny her the simplest things, like access to his glove compartment? When he found it hard to say no to her more often than not?

Shit, he couldn't remember things being this difficult and murky with Mari, but then, Mari had been a willing participant. More than willing, she had been the one doing all the leading and teaching—at least in the beginning, explaining that a good Dominant had to know what it was like to be a submissive first. But now, he was the leader, the teacher.

Presently, Slany pulled out his stash of CDs and flipped through them, reading titles under her breath: David Sanborn, Pat Metheny, Will Downing, Justin Timberlake, Beyonce, Prince…

"Rather eclectic."

"As are my tastes in most things."

"Like food."

"Among other things."

"Women?"

He didn't take his eyes off the road as he responded, "Is that a not-so-veiled attempt to find out if I have a girlfriend?"

"Now that you mention it, we never did discuss significant others."

"I'm as free as you are."

"I'm not sure if your version of free and mine are the same."

"There's only one version. I don't have anyone significant in my life, and I'm assuming you don't, either."

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"You're making assumptions?"

"Educated guesses. You don't strike me as the sort of woman who juggles more than one man."

"I don't know whether to be insulted or flattered."

"Neither. I'm just making an observation. I could be wrong." He turned and peered at her.

“You might actually be promiscuous.”

"Promiscuous! Only a man would use that term in this day and age."

"Promiscuous is promiscuous in any day and age."

"Are you?" she asked.

"Promiscuous?"

"Barring that it's a relative term and could mean different sums to different people, yes.

Are you the type of man to juggle more than one woman at a time?"

"Yes."

She arched a brow and turned to him. "You're admitting—"

"Nothing. I just answered your question. I've juggled in the past, so I guess that makes me the type of man to do it. I just haven't in a long while."

"Why's that?"

"Because I'm with you."

Her lips parted in a silent "oh" of realization before she turned her attention back to the road, arms folded firmly across her breasts.

Nick let several minutes and traffic lights tick by before he asked, "Are you?"

She responded instantly, knew exactly what he meant. "I…I've only had two lovers, and I haven't been with anyone in…a couple of years."

His heart pounded with possessiveness, eager to explore terrain that had not been heavily trod, and had not been trod in a long time. He was eager to see if she was as tight and hot around his dick as she was around his fingers. "A couple of years?"

"You make it sound like a crime. I would think abstinence in this day and age is a plus."

He grinned, smothering a laugh. "Are you angry?"

"No."

"Sounds like you are." He turned into the 24-hour underground garage around the corner from his condo.

"Does it matter?"

"No."

Slany turned on him just as he pulled into a parking space on the lower lever, turned off the car and disengaged his seatbelt.

He smiled and waited a moment before turning to face down her indignation.

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Gracie C. McKeever

"I can't believe you just said that it doesn't matter."

"Best sex I've ever had was when the participants were angry with each other."

"You in the habit of pissing off your partners before sex?"

Rather than answer her question, Nick bent his head and took a nipple between his teeth.

Slany gasped and tried to writhe away, but he bore down firmly enough to keep her still, titillating without hurting her. He slid a hand under her dress while he had her attention, slowly inserting two fingers into her cunt before raising his head from her breast. "You were saying?"

"You son-of-a-bitch." She clenched her teeth, automatically pitched her hips forward, and Nick cupped her warm pubis, vicious arousal tightening his balls, hardening his shaft.

"We could do it here if you like and can't wait to get upstairs."

"You're not that irresistible, Vega."

He pulled his fingers back, then plunged them deep, brushing receptive tissues in his path as she whimpered beneath him. He felt her inner muscles closing around him, shut his eyes and imagined that same urgent and undeniable pressure around his cock. "I told you to call me Nick."

"Nick…please…"

"Please what?"

"I…we can't. Not here."

"We can and will do it wherever I say," he murmured and bent his head to nibble her throat, slowly moved down to find a nipple, circling and sucking it through the satin of her dress and bra, sucking in earnest, felt the nipple pucker and bloom in his mouth.

She arched her neck for better access, as she had at Sapa, moaning when he pulled the straps of her bra and dress down and cupped a generous breast. "Nick…not here. Please."

His cock jerked with compassion at the plea in her voice. He paid no heed. If he did, she'd never listen to any of his instructions, never follow any directions, since she’d be too busy trying to wheedle her way out of doing his bidding because she could. He had let her get away with too much already. He needed to exercise his supremacy now, make her understand that in this, their physical relationship, his word was the final word, and law. "What's the difference between here, the restaurant, or my office?"

She groaned and squirmed in her seat as he thrust and wriggled his fingers.

"I want you to come, Slany. Come for me. Here.
Now
."

She opened her eyes to glare at him, but didn't stop moving her hips against his hand, stomach quivering as he moved his free hand from her breast to her abdomen, gently running his thumb along her ribs.

Her thrusts quickened, turned more desperate until she moved her hips against his hand like a piston, crying out right before she climaxed, body convulsing with the force of her orgasm.

Rather than turn towards him, Slany averted her head, pulling up the straps on her bra and dress as she stared out the passenger window. "I asked you not to."

"And it's up to me to know what you want and need and give it to you."

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She turned on him, glowering. "That's bordering pretty damn close to something a date rapist would say, if you ask me."

"Do you really believe that, Slany? Or are you just being contrary, retreating behind a safe wall of familiarity because you think I got the best of you'?"

She scoffed. "You didn't get the best of me."

"I know that, and you know it. So why are we arguing?"

"I think you should take me home."

"You don't really want me to do that."

"I wish you'd stop telling me what I want and need."

Nick caught her shoulders and pulled her close, his lips a hair's breadth from hers. "What do you think I'm doing here? What do you think we're doing?"

She closed her eyes and shook her head. "This isn't going the way I thought it would."

He softened his grip, but didn't release her, caressing her collarbone with his thumbs as he leaned close to brush her chin and lips with his mouth. "This doesn't have to hurt or be difficult, Slany. As long as you remember what I told you from the beginning."

"Do what you say no questions asked."

"I know it's not easy for someone like you—"

"Like me?"

He cupped her face and pulled her close, kissed her parted lips and the crease between her eyebrows. "Someone used to being in control." He covered her mouth with his, thrust in his tongue, stroked hers, mimicking what he wanted to do to her vagina with his cock before pulling back to peer at her. "If this is going to work, you're going to give me the reins, trust me to know when to tighten them and when to loosen them. Open up your mind, and do that for me, Slany."

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Gracie C. McKeever

Slany stared at him, contemplating his demand.

She had never thought of herself as a selfish person, but her experiences thus far with Nick were showing her sides of herself she'd never known existed.

The man had only taken her to the heights of pleasure, unleashing her sensuality, giving and giving, yet taking nothing for himself in return, his only recompense derived from her satisfaction. The few demands he had made were far from unreasonable, and nothing that endangered her in any way.

At least he hadn’t yet endangered her physically. Her emotional self and ego was another matter altogether, her unconscious throwing up barriers against his mastery and refusing to submit. There was just something so inherently offensive and negative in the connotation of the word that Slany naturally rebelled.

She wouldn't blame the man if he turned around and took her home like she'd asked, deciding that she wasn’t worth the trouble and never bothered with her again. In fact, she would have no one to blame but herself if he gave up on her and their embryonic relationship.