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“Forever,” she finished.
“Right. But right here and right now, you can just let go and let me take care of my baby girl the way I want to and the way you want me to. You do want me to, don’t you, Alicia?”
“Baby girl. I like it when you call me baby girl.”
He chuckled. “Then baby girl it is. Although I reserve the right to call you brat when you’re being one.”
She laughed softly. “Every time King calls Samantha a brat, you can see how connected they are.”
“That’s the thing about D/s couples. They often carry the intimacy and connection they share in the bedroom out into the real world. Doing the work we do, it can help.”
“Because most of the time, things aren’t completely in your control.”
“Not always, but we always have contingency plans,” he assured her as his fingers circled her clit, stopping every once in a while to press or tug it.
“Is seducing me one of those contingencies?”
“No, baby girl, keeping you safe is the primary directive. Seducing you is a part of a whole other plan.”
He continued to play with her clit until she was breathing heavily and moaning. He kissed her deeply and with restrained passion, his tongue sliding along hers to explore and taste. Taste. He tasted the IPA in her mouth and remembered he’d thought she might be a little tipsy. He withdrew his hand, despite her protestation.
When she took it and put it back under her tank top and placed it on her bra, he traced the tops of her generous breasts and down her side. He found a scar and traced it. This was no little nick. This had come from something bad—most likely an attack of some kind.
The intoxication he’d been feeling, not so much from the beer but from the woman who was cuddled up to him, sobered. There was so much she needed to tell them. There was so much more they needed to know about one another. He wondered if she was really ready for what he wanted from her. Knowing what he wanted, he knew he couldn’t just have a one-night stand, or a scene or even a brief affair. No, what he wanted required talking when they were both completely clear-headed, on the same page, and with a contract in place.
He might not have that tonight, but by god, he’d have one in the morning.
CHAPTER 9
ALICIA
Brock was kissing her, their tongues dancing as his fingers played with her clit—pressing, circling, and tugging on it. He’d take her just to the edge of pain or the precipice of ecstasy and then pull back. It was a delicious, wicked game, and Alicia had never felt so alive or so amazingly, fearlessly out of control. It was far more intoxicating than the one beer she’d had to settle her nerves.
When he withdrew his hand, Alicia took it and guided it back under her tank top and up to her bra. She really wanted him to push her bra out of the way and treat her nipples to the same kind of play he’d given her clit. If he’d pressed down on it one more time she would have had an explosive orgasm, and she was pretty sure he knew that.
His hand moved along the tops of her breasts, and she was enjoying the way his fingers moved independent of one another, teasing and tempting. When he trailed the back of his hand down her torso, she knew the moment he hit the scar. Brock’s hand flipped over, and his fingers probed the scar. Normally, she figured if it turned them off, so be it, but with Brock it would only bring more questions. Questions she wasn’t prepared to answer.
“Want to tell me how you got this?” he asked, gently touching the puckered skin.
She pushed his hand away. “Not particularly.”
“Alicia, you can’t keep pushing me away.”
“Sure I can; just watch me.”
She tried to get up, and his arms clamped around her like a vice. “You’re not going anywhere.”
“Fine. We can sit here all night until your legs go numb from my sitting on them.”
“I don’t think I like your attitude, baby girl.”
No, she told herself. She was not going to go all soft and gooey and tell him everything. She had begun to believe that maybe, just maybe, she had carved out a new life for herself—one where she could be happy and safe. One where her past no longer mattered. But she should have known better. She didn’t get a happily ever after. She shook her head. She’d actually believed him. What a fool.
“I don’t much care. Let me go. In the morning, we can make other arrangements. I know Cerberus is a badass black ops group and has lots of friends in high places, but you don’t run the world, and you don’t run me. Now let go.”
“Alicia, calm down. I don’t think we’re ready to go any further. We need to talk.”
“So let’s talk.”
