“You’re afraid, aren’t you?”
She rolled her eyes. “Not this again.”
“I think you’re mostly afraid of yourself.”
She snorted and turned her gaze back to her computer screen. “That’s ridiculous.”
“I don’t think so.”
“Look, I have work to do…”
He pushed the laptop computer aside, and lifted her chin so she had to meet his eyes. “Remember what I said about honesty?”
“I’m honest.”
He shook his head slowly side to side. His jaw tightened. “You’re not being honest. With me. Or with yourself.”
Anger flared inside her. She frowned at him and tried to draw back, but his fingers cupped her jaw. “You know what you really want is a man strong enough to show you who you really are.”
“Oh for God’s sake!” Her breath hitched. “Your ego is unbelievable.”
The barely restrained power, primal and male, leashed by his air of authority, made her tremble inside.
“I saw inside you,” he continued. “Last week at Le Château. When I made you come like crazy. You were so hot for it—I could see what you wanted. You just don’t want to admit it.”
“Okay! Yes! It was good. But not the way you think…”
“Show me.” His eyes challenged her.
“Show you what?”
He grabbed her hand and pulled her up out of the chair, hard against his body.
“Show me what you want.”
She quivered. “Stop.”
He chuckled. “At least say it like you mean it.”
She just stared back at him as if hypnotized.
“Oh God,” he groaned, sliding his hand around the back of her neck.
Their mouths connected, sending a jolt of white-hot electricity through her straight down between her legs. He speared his fingers into her hair to hold her head as he kissed her, opening her mouth with the pressure of his jaw, pushing into her mouth with his tongue. Her tongue met his, pushed back and their mouths played back and forth as they tasted and sucked on each other. The kiss deepened, grew hotter, their mouths open, tongues sliding, and Joe yanked her harder up against him, his arm circling her and holding her there.
God. His tongue in her mouth, one hand holding her head, the other on her ass…she couldn’t help her hips from moving against his in a helpless, needy rhythm. He tasted hot and delicious as he sucked on her tongue and she got lost in the heat of it, the mindless sensation. She arched against him, a small moan escaping her as he changed the angle of his head, kissed her again, and she clutched his shoulders.
“The house,” he muttered. “Do you have keys to the house?”
She looked at him, dazed, blinking.
He gave her shoulders a small shake. “Tara. I’m going to fuck you. Do you want to do it here in the office?”
She blinked again. “I have the key.”
Perfect. They didn’t even have to drive. Ignoring her computer and papers and briefcase, he grabbed her hand and practically dragged her out of the office. His dick was about to explode, lust spearing through him, heating him up. They had to get out of there.
It had been building up for weeks, ever since he’d arrived. They’d had some fun at Le Château, but this time he was going to be inside her. He was going to own her. He was going to show her once and for all what she really wanted.
He pulled her across the parking lot and down the path through the purple-spiked salvia and sunny daisy-like flowers to the ranch house. He felt her resistance in the way she held back, but he wasn’t letting her pull away. She unlocked the front door with trembling hands, glancing at him over her shoulder, and they stepped into the cool, dim foyer.
Joe shut the door, reached for her and spun her around, shoving her up against the carved wooden door and devouring her mouth. She tasted so damn good, like he knew she would. He couldn’t get enough of her, all soft and warm and tantalizing. Their tongues slid together, mouths open wide for each other in long, deep kisses.
He slid his hands up under the cotton shirt she wore, but it was form-fitting and not stretchy, so he had to go for the buttons, his big fingers fumbling with those damn tiny fuckers. Finally he had the blouse open and wrenched it apart so he could see her breasts. God. His chest heaved as he gazed down at her, plump breasts almost spilling from lacy bra cups, sky blue like the shirt she wore. He was staring at her in a near-stupor and had to marshal his control yet again.
“Bedroom,” he said. “Where is it?”
She closed her eyes and her breasts rose on a long intake of air. Never mind. He’d find it. He bent, slid an arm beneath her legs and lifted her against him.
“Joe!” Her eyes flew open and she clutched at his shoulders. “Stop! I don’t want this.”
“Yes, you do. You say you don’t, but I can feel it. The way you kiss me back. The way you melt against me.” He strode into the house, past a spacious, airy living room with wrought iron chandeliers hanging from vaulted ceilings and walls of mellow pine paneling. Arched windows looked out onto an expansive terrace. He turned down a hall, past a huge master bedroom, pausing with an arched brow. Tara shook her head, arms around his neck, so he continued on to the next room, opened the carved pine door and walked inside, then lowered her feet to the creamy area rug layered over polished wood.
“This is the room I use when I’m here,” she croaked. He had a dim impression of a minimally furnished room—a big bed with a plain white duvet, simple painted furniture. Sunlight beamed between the slats of wood blinds, creating a tiger-striped pattern on the floor.
She stood beside the bed, shirt hanging open, gazing at him. His head whirled as more blood rushed from his head to his cock and again he had to fight for control.
“Take your shirt off.”
“No.”
He closed the distance between them but didn’t touch her. He watched her struggle with the need inside her, saw the curiosity warring with resistance, knew every sinful thing she was wishing for. He could grant those wishes.
“I’m going to give you what you want.”
“You don’t know what I want.”
“Oh yeah, Tara, I do. Remember.” He still didn’t touch her, only with his gaze. “Honesty. I’m being honest with you, and you need to do the same for me. I can show you all the things you secretly want. And how good it can be.”
“Not like this.”
Her stubbornness yanked at his self-control, but when uncertainty flickered in her eyes, he dug deep for patience. This was new to her, all new, all scary. “I’ll look after you,” he said softly. “That’s my responsibility as Dominant. Not just to control you, but to pleasure you. It’ll be so good, sweetheart.”
Their eyes met and held and he saw the surrender there. Urgent need swelled inside him. He was dying to see how submissive she was, to overcome her resistance and have her obey his every demand, hear her beg him to sink his cock into her. But first he had to earn her trust. He was figuring out her triggers and knew he could get her to surrender to him. Completely.
“Now take off your shirt or I’ll spank that pretty ass.”
Heat flared in her eyes and her hands slowly lifted to the edges of the shirt, pushing it down over one arm, then the other, then dropping it on to a chair beside her. Yes.
He settled his hands on her waist, her flesh warm and silky. He studied her. Her breasts were high on her slender rib cage, full and round, sweetly cupped by blue lace. His mouth filled with saliva at the sight and he swallowed again. He reached behind her and flicked open her bra, tugged it off and dropped it to the floor. He drew out the tips of her breasts with his fingers, tugging over and over again, and her whole body twitched against him.
Her eyes drifted closed and her head fell back and when he looked at her face, he saw ecstasy.