AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Kimberly blinked. She believed him.
But also, why was she turned on?
“You lied to me.” Kimberly was humiliated to feel her lip quiver and bit down on it in an effort to stop the sign of weakness. “You let me think you were a therapist. You let me tell you things. Things I don’t tell anyone. How could you do that?” The tears poured more freely than ever now, and Kimberly hoped each one cut like glass through his veins, because that’s how they felt to her.
“I am so sorry you’re hurt,” he told her. He looked stern and sincere but not contrite. Kimberly felt her hurt simmer back toward anger. Why wasn’t he sorry for what he did? “I want you to know though, Kimberly, that I’ve never lied to you. Yes, I am an agent for the bureau, but Iama psychologist for the bureau too. It was part of the reason I got this assignment. Allow me to go ahead and put all my cards on the table and tell you I’m a forensic one, not a clinical. I did practice clinicals in grad school, and I have the skills as well as the tools to perform well above what these sessions advertised for. I’m not doing anything illegal or unethical. Set aside the fact that the way our ads for this place are worded—it’s like we’re a bunch of fortune tellers and palm readers. I would never, ever break faith with you. Or any of the clients who come to see me under any circumstances, whether they view me as their doctor or not.”
“Well shit.” Now what was she going to do? Kimberly fumed. He’d stolen the wind right out of her sails with the reality slap of prison. Not happy, fuzzy “jail,” butprison. She’d seen the first season ofOrange is the New Black, and he could have stopped right there, just like she did with that terrifying show. But then he’d gone and gotten reasonable, the bastard. How dare he rub salt in her wounds by adding reason as well as fear? He’d gone and been noble next. Dean was all that he claimed to be and more, vowing to take everyone’s secrets with him to the grave in that steady, unbreakable, trustworthy look. And he was a hot-as-fuck FBI agent, badass Dom on top of it. Kimberly felt sucker-punched.
Motherfucker.
Dean’s mouth throbbed, but not as much as his cock. Kimberly had stormed in here looking even hotter than his tormented dreams, then kissed and bit at him like a feral cat.
He wanted to bite back.
“Obviously,” he began, praying he had the strength to see this through, “we can’t continue our sessions after all. I know some excellent therapists I can refer you to. Qualified ones. Let me make you a list.”And lucky for me, they’re all on the other side of town, where you’ll be out of reach and out of danger.
“What if I won’t go?” she asked in a shaky voice unlike her own. “What if I still want you? As my therapist, I mean,” she added after a long pause.
Holy shit. She was so mouthwatering in her defiance that he wanted to give her the Dominance she was begging for with every cell of her being. Dean took a deep breath and pulled on every ounce of his control, not only his knowledge and training as an agent but as a Dom as well.
“No, Kimberly, we have to stop,” he told her, using the voice he used for suspects in custody and Doms who overstepped in a club. It tested his will more than he could have guessed when her eyes narrowed in defiance. God… damn, he wanted her under him.
“Fine,” Kimberly snapped and gathered up her things as she stood. “You’re fired.” Then she turned on yet another pair of killer heels and flounced out of his office. Dean could do nothing but watch as the ass of his dreams bounced out of his life forever.
CHAPTERSIX
Dean prowledthe rooms of The Lion’s Den that night. He felt unhinged with a restless energy and a boatload of frustration. It’d been three hours since his confrontation with Kimberly, and he could still taste her.
“You keep glarin’ at all the lil subbies like that,” Mary said from beside him, “and you ain’t never gonna get one to let ya top ‘em. You look mean as a damn snake.” Despite his foul mood, Dean smiled at the irresistible older woman.
“It doesn’t appear that I’m scaring you,” he told her, letting his eyes linger over her softly lined yet still attractive face. “Why don’t you and I give it a go, huh, Mary? Whaddya say?”
She blushed at first, charmed as a schoolgirl, then laughed like the retired soldier she was. “If you were about twenty years older or I was twenty younger, boy, I mighta taken you up on that. Maybe. You look like ya got a strong-enough back. Kinda skinny though, and it takes stamina to top me. You woulda had to bring snacks just to keep up your strength.” She roared at her own joke, patted his arm like a school marm, and wandered off to continue her monitoring duties.
“You know”—Sam appeared out of nowhere—“even if you were twenty years older and she was twenty younger, I think she’d still be more than a decade older than you. And you’d’ve definitely needed the snacks.”
“Shut up. Asshole.” But Dean was laughing when he said it. That was, until Kimberly sauntered into the club.
She was wearing red tonight. A satin corset that boosted up her breasts and offered them like a feast. It flowed enticingly down her waist and hips like spilled paint dripped over a canvas. Red garters and stockings stopped just above the knee and left a wide swatch of mouthwatering flesh bare. Over it all, she had on a shimmering, scarlet, long-sleeved gown that was as gossamer-thin as butterfly wings. It had a wide satin collar that cinched high under her chin with a large pearl button. The puffy sleeves of it ended in matching cuffs and made her look like she’d strolled out of a high-class dressing room from a hundred years ago.
Dean actually felt his knees buckle.
Sam wolf-whistled softly, and the old-fashioned catcall pretty much summed up the intellectual functionality of Dean’s own brain at the moment.
Eyes as dark and smoky as film noir and lips as red as the fire she’d just started in his soul, Kimberly’s beauty was otherworldly. She had her magnificent hair slicked back tonight—God have mercy on his soul—in a high, tight ponytail. The silken tresses were even longer than he would’ve guessed now that she’d tamed the curls into submission and straightened it until it gleamed like gloss in the flickering lights.
“No.” Dean felt desperate. “No. I don’t know what she’s playing at, but….” He finished the last of his drink in a single gulp and headed for the woman who stood dressed like she was a literal red flag, daring him with her own damn self to do something about it. Like he was stupid enough to go—
“Dean, stop! You can’t just go charging after her like some bull in a china shop.” It wasn’t until Sam’s grip on his arm got painful that Dean realized he was straining against it. It was fascinating to him to notice he wasstillstraining and not about to stop. He looked back at Kimberly and strained harder.
“Fucking no.” It was too much. She’d gone too far, and Dean had reached his limit. She wanted to play with him? Fine. He’d fucking show her what he did to little subbies who wanted to play with fire. He shot Sam a look his friend knew better than to ignore and shook him off. He had a lesson to meet out.
Kimberly stood her ground as he charged after her, regal as a queen awaiting her supplicant. Dean felt greed like a living thing in his chest.
“What the hell are you playing at?” Dean demanded in a harsh tone. Kimberly eyed him without showing she had any clue of the danger she was in.
“Playing?” she prompted coolly, and her smooth voice was like a stroke on his cock. “Hmm, that’s exactly why I’m here actually. Why? Wanna play with me? Sir?” Her lashes lowered, mocking him in false submission as those blood-red lips curved in challenge.
