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“Oh, I understand that, believe me. I don’t drink when I play, though,” she said casually.
Matthew had wondered how the fuck she could be so casual. He’d wondered all night actually. He knew most people thought he was cold, efficient and detached, but he had nothing on her. She’d wrecked all of his carefully constructed control and she’d done it without losing any of her cool.
“I’m not here to play. I just needed a drink,” he said. His ears felt hot and he knew it would be spreading to his face and neck any minute. He wanted to leave, but she blocked his exit and stayed there, eyeing him with suspicion.
“And you just ended up here? Forgive me, Matthew, but that’s doubtful.” She arched a red brow.
“I’m…. I’m…,” he started to say.
“No need to be shy, Matthew. I mean, I’m here too, right? The only real question is: Who are you looking for?”
Matthew’s hips rolled and he felt the burn of his muscles protesting against the action. He’d be surprised if he could sit today.
“I’m not looking for anyone. I just –?
?
“Lying? Really? Of all the things I thought you might be, a liar didn’t really cross my mind,” she said.
“Fuck what you thought,” he countered and slammed his whiskey neat. He stood to leave, but Sloan blocked his path, trapping him between her body and the stool. She smelled sweet, like green apples. It certainly wasn’t the kind of thing one expected. Not in a fetish club.
Knowing it would hurt, he braced himself and reached back to touch his ass with his fingers. Yes: there were raised welts all over his butt. He traced them with the tip of his finger, marveling at the fact there was a perfect handprint where her slender, whip-like fingers had landed. He’d always wondered if the brilliant Dr. Janice Sloan would psycho analyze during sex. Now he knew the answer.
“That’s rude, Matthew. You’re trying to hurt my feelings. But I forgive you because I know you’re embarrassed.” She stepped closer, a hand on his chest urging him back onto his seat. Her hand felt hot, really hot, like it could burn a hole in his chest. Matthew relented and allowed himself to be pushed back onto the barstool.
Sloan rose up on her tip-toes and leaned over Matthew to whisper in his ear, “You’re cheeks are red and your heart is beating really fast.”
Matthew moaned and rubbed his ass cheek again. Yes, he’d been embarrassed. He’d never expected to see Sloan, dressed like a cross between the Madonna and the whore, smelling like apples and at the same time rubbing her tits against his chest. She’d known what she was doing, that much was even more obvious now.
“Look, Sloan…”
“Leave Sloan for the office, Matthew,” she said with a smile.
“Fine. What the hell do you want, Janice? You want to tell everyone you saw me here? That I’m a freak? Go ahead. I don’t give a fuck,” he said. He whispered the words, half angry, half nervous. He didn’t know what he’d do if she decided to tell people about him.
He was still worried about that. The things he’d let her do! The way he’d begged her not to stop. He shook his head, trying to clear the memories, but it wasn’t working, not when he was still so sore and her smell still lingered in his sheets.
“You’re not a Dom.” Janice shook her head, “I didn’t think so. I mean, you could be, you’re so strong, so masculine and in control. But that’s the problem. Isn’t it, Matthew? It’s a lot of work to be in control all the time.” She raised her delicate hand and twirled her fingers in the hair at Matthew’s nape. It was an intimate act, full of implications.
Ah, yes. The fucking psycho-babble. Olivia had had it right: Sloan couldn’t help herself. She looked right into people and started tearing them apart. No matter that it hurt. No matter that she wasn’t invited to do it. All night, she’d done it to him, poked and poked and poked until he’d given it up.
Janice’s other hand grabbed Matthew’s thigh and gently prodded. Matthew swallowed hesitantly, but then he let Janice in and she stepped between his spread thighs as if she just belonged there. “I wouldn’t tell anyone your secrets, Matthew. I keep a lot of secrets; it’s my job. If you tell me to leave you alone, I will. It’s just…I want you.”
“Why?” Matthew croaked.
Janice smiled against his ear and chuckled softly, “Because I couldn’t possibly think of anything I’d enjoy more, than your sexy ass over my knee.”
It was definitely sexy. Matthew had never come so hard, never begged so much. He’d tried to be defiant, not caring for Sloan’s invasive questions. But in the end, he wanted to come so badly, he’d have done anything, said anything. Sloan made sure to take advantage. She’d pulled confessions out of him that made him so ashamed he could barely breathe. She’d been ruthless.
Her hand followed along the path of his thigh and turned inward to cup his balls. Matthew jumped, startled, but his hands stayed gripped to the barstool. Janice’s fingernails scratched him through his jeans and he couldn’t suppress the helpless sound that came out of him.
He couldn’t face her, not today, not ever. She knew him too well now. He’d told her things he’d never told anyone.
“Okay,” he whispered.
“Okay?” she purred against his ear, her fingers alternately caressing and scratching.
She’d been so reassuring, stroking his hair and telling him it was okay, there was nothing wrong with him.
Matthew nodded, his eyes closed. Already, it was difficult not to come, right there in his jeans like a school kid having his dick touched by the head cheerleader.
“You won’t tell?” he pleaded softly.
Janice gripped the hair at the nape of his neck with enough force to make his eyes sting, “No, Matthew. I won’t tell anyone. Now get the fuck off this barstool and let’s get out of here.”
Last night it had been glorious and liberating. It had been a light to the darkness in his soul, but today…today it was all he could do not to call in sick and lie in bed and hide.
Matthew finally rolled over and let the pain have him. He closed his eyes and moved his body along the sheets, testing all of his muscles. His shoulders hurt quite a bit and his neck was stiff, but mostly it was his ass. His ass felt bruised all the way to the bone and he knew even after his hot shower the pain would remain. He’d think about Sloan all day, all night, and every time he sat down until the pain went away. And suddenly, it was his pride that hurt the most.
He slowly opened his eyes. He was supposed to go back to the hospital first thing this morning and get the rest of Olivia’s statement. He wondered if Sloan would be there and his stomach hurt. No. He couldn’t see Sloan. Ever. He couldn’t stand the idea of facing her and encountering her smug face. And really, who wouldn’t be smug?
Matthew was a notorious jerk. He knew plenty of people who would pay to hear about him being brought so low. Well, he wouldn’t give Sloan the satisfaction of getting to him again. All he had to do was avoid her. It was the coward’s way out, but Matthew figured he could be a coward every now and again. He wouldn’t let it affect his case.
With a loud sigh of resignation, Matthew rolled out of bed on unsteady legs and fumbled toward the table for balance and his phone. There was a note:
Dear Matthew,
Thank you. You were better than I dreamed. Difficult to leave you, but I know you need your space. I’ll be at the hospital in the morning, stop by if you want, otherwise, I’ll be sure to give you time in the afternoon to do your job. Of course, I hope I’ll see you.
Agreement stands, my lips are sealed.
Jani
“Fuck,” Matthew sighed. Even in a note, he could sense how obviously smug she was about last night. If he didn’t show up, then he was a coward. If he did, then he was trying to prove something. It was a catch-22. Angrily, he reached for his phone and fired off a text:
Reed: Intel @ office. Busy til lunch. Pls rcrd interview.
He figured his text was vague and yet succinct enough. He hoped she would get the hint and not discuss last night. It was better if they stuck to the work. The case would be over soon and the both of them would be reassigned. With any luck, he’d have no reason to see her again. All he had to do was make it through the next few days. Less, if he could get Livvie to talk. It was all the motivation he needed.
Matthew took a long, hot shower. It helped loosen his aching muscles. The damage was fairly miniscule, only a few bruises and welts on his ass. It was a relief to know he had no marks on him that would be visible when he was dressed.
He stopped for coffee on the way to work. He didn’t want to stand around the
