Hard Miles Ahead (Black Mountain Bikers 4)

“Your order, Mr. Miles.” The voice was that of a man who sounded as if he could have been the biblical Noah’s grandson for his age.

Sighing, visibly relieved, Daric said, “Thank you, George. Just leave it there. I’ll get it in a minute; I’m not decent right now.” Daric didn’t safety

the gun and put it away. Instead he waited for the mumbled reply that Tavia couldn’t understand, and then he used the peephole in the door.

Tavia’s stomach tied into knots as she watched Daric’s actions. Was he paranoid without cause? Was there a threat against him that she didn’t know about? And, again, what the hell could he be involved with that would require such paranoid actions?

A nervous sweat popped out of her pores and made the shower seem as if it had been a week ago instead of a few minutes ago. Her heart hammered faster as she contemplated the possibilities of things he could be into.

After what seemed an eternity, he opened the door, pulled the cart inside, and shut the door. Checking that the food was okay—or perhaps he was checking for bombs—Daric rolled the cart behind the sofa and handed Tavia a tray that held her dinner plate, dessert, and drink.

Accepting it with shaking hands, Tavia found that she couldn’t speak and so she nodded thanks to Daric.

He put the gun back in the hidden cubby under the lamp and then came back for his own tray. Sitting to eat as if nothing was out of the ordinary, Daric immediately began eating and got back into the movie.

Tavia’s appetite had dwindled significantly thought she’d definitely worked up an appetite.

Chapter 8

If Daric wanted Tavia to know anything about his personal business, he didn’t show it. She dared not ask, either. The less she knew, the better off she’d be in the long run. So she hoped, anyway. There was an undeniably sexy aspect to the element of danger and mystery. Though she’d been terrified for a few moments after he grabbed the gun, she was excited afterward. Telling him that wouldn’t happen, though. Most likely, he wouldn’t understand that and she didn’t know how to explain it.

Several minutes after he’d started silently eating and watching the movie, Daric spoke and took Tavia by complete surprise. “So, who’d you call earlier? Was it the non-boyfriend Jensen?” He never looked at her; just kept eating and watching television.

“Um. No, it wasn’t Jensen.” What right did he have to question who she’d called? She hadn’t put him through the Inquisition about his call.

“Mm. Who was it, then?” He took a deep swig of beer and still avoided looking at her.

“A friend. Why? Is there a problem with me calling someone now?” Becoming uncomfortable, she put her feet back on the floor and set her tray on the coffee table.

“Not at all. I was just wondering if I was supposed to give you permission to do that. If so, I didn’t and that means you get punished for it.” He grinned over at her and she saw the lust in his eyes again.

Immediately the sight of his lust lit the coals of desire deep in her body. “Oh! You like my little game, do you?” She purred and scooted forward onto the edge of her seat, eyeing him with a playful grin on her face.

“Game? It’s just a game? I thought you were my slave and had to obey my every command.” His expression was straight and sober as he looked her up and down.

Was he playing? Was he serious? Did he know she was confused? He had to be playing. Had to be.

“Ooh. Okay, I see how you’re wanting to play this. That’s fine with me. I like it realistic.” She stood and pulled off her shirt, letting it fall onto the couch where she’d been sitting. She hoped like hell that he was playing the game and that he hadn’t had some sort of mental break.

“Did I tell you to undress?” He eyed her levelly.

Shaking her head, she answered, “No, you didn’t. I’m sorry.” Looking demure and covering her bare breasts with her arms, she lowered her gaze, getting into game mode and getting more turned on by the second.

Daric was turning out to be the best role player she’d dealt with in a very long time. Most men would have already broken character to inform her that it was indeed just a game and for her to please play along. Not Daric. That tiny little element of mystery and the other not-so-tiny element of fear—he definitely had a knack for how to mix them into the perfect blend with the sexy pains he would inflict at just the right moments to make her want to orgasm and which made her climaxes the most pleasurable and the most uncontrollable that she’d ever had.

Pushing his tray away from him, he looked at her and gave her the come hither gesture. He patted his thigh and she turned to sit on his leg. He pushed her away.

“I think you should take off your pants and then bend over my knee. You’ve been bad and need your punishment.”

As she pushed her pants down, Daric reached out and took both breasts in his hands and squeezed them deliciously and tweaked their nipples until Tavia moaned. Standing, she pressed her breasts toward his hands again, wanting more.

“Oh, you’ve forgotten your place again. That’s another bit of punishment, slave.” He abruptly removed his hands from her breasts and extended his leg. “Over you go, now.” He patted his thigh again.

Tavia let her breasts fall between his thighs as she leaned over his leg. He moaned and ran his hand from her neck to her ass gently.

“You misbehave so nicely that it almost seems a shame to punish you. But, if I’m to be a good master and teach you, then I must discipline you when you need it.” He gripped her ass cheek and squeezed it hard. “Isn’t that right?”

“Yes.” Without a doubt, she loved the feel of his hand on her bare skin.