Heated (Most Wanted 2)

"I'm always ready for you," I whispered, then thought God help me, it's true.

"Look at me," he said, and once I did, I couldn't look away. "That's how I always want you from now on," he said. "Hot and wet and always ready for me. I want you so wet from the thought of me that I can bend you over, tug your jeans down, and slide into you anytime I feel like it. I want to simply brush my hand over your cunt, and have you explode for me. I want your breasts to ache in constant anticipation of my touch. I want you so primed that I can take you over the edge with a single word. Do you understand?"

"Yes," I said, though my body was so hot--my mouth so dry--that I didn't know how I managed to form even that simple word.

"Do you want that, too?"

"God, yes," I said, my response little more than a moan.

His fingers were still inside me, teasing and playing. He withdrew, then brushed the pad of his thumb over my clit and--oh, god, yes--the orgasm burst through me. A small storm this time, but enough to rattle me, to flush my skin, to make me weak with both satisfaction and the desire for more.

"You're trying to keep me unbalanced," I whispered.

I saw the flash of masculine victory in his eyes before the smile hit his lips. "Is it working?"

"Yes," I admitted.

"Don't worry. If you stumble, I'll catch you." He took a step back from the desk, then held out his hand to me. "Ready?"

I considered saying no, but it wouldn't be true. I'd stepped into Wonderland, and I wanted the whole of the adventure. "I am," I said, then took his hand and followed him through the door.

I followed him down the hall, frequently tugging down the hem on the jacket even though it was long enough on me to wear as a short dress.

He led me to the parking lot and then to a classic red convertible. My dad would know the year and the make, but all I knew was that it was as big as a boat and as stylish as the day it came off the line. It had a mix of soft curves and hard angles, giving it a totally retro look that I loved. "Wow," I said.

"Yeah. She's a beauty." He opened the door for me, and I slid onto the bench seat, the leather warm on the back of my thighs.

"Nice," I said, as he settled himself behind the wheel.

"Nineteen-sixty-three Buick LeSabre," he said. "I fixed her up myself, although to be fair, she was in decent condition when I bought her. And," he added, as he peeled out of the lot, "she drives like a dream."

He proceeded to prove that point by opening her up once we hit the highway, so that I was squealing in surprise and delight as my hair went flying in the warm night air.

"Nice," I said. "And although it's got less of a vibration thing going than your motorcycle, I think we could make this bench seat work for us." I gave the red and white leather seat a pat.

He took his eyes off the road long enough to glance at the seat--and then at me. "Interesting information. And good to know. Especially considering where we're going."

"Oh." I waited a beat. "And where are we going again?"

"Nice try. But you'll just have to wait and see." He gave the seat a pat of his own. "You know the nice thing about bench seats? You can slide right over and get cozy."

"Is that an invitation or an order?"

"Take your pick," he said. "Whichever one gets you here faster."

I grinned and slid closer. He kept his left hand on the steering wheel, but his right went to my thigh--high enough to keep my blood pumping and my body primed, but not enough to touch. All of which effectively drove me a little bit crazy.

"I'm practically naked," I said. "I think you could take a little bit more advantage of the situation."

"Is that what you think?"

"Or maybe you're just not as clever and resourceful as I'd thought. Or maybe I've just worn you out already. Stamina," I said with a sad shake of my head. "Some men just don't have it."

"Careful, or I just may have to spank you."

"You teased me with that possibility before," I said, squirming a little at the thought. Would it hurt? Would I like it? "So far you haven't made good on the threat. So tell me, Mr. Sharp. How does a girl have to misbehave to be punished by you?"

"Oh, we'll figure something out," he promised.

Really? I'll have to remember to misbehave."

"Don't worry," he said wryly. "I'll remind you."

Ten minutes later, we'd arrived at a red brick building that, as far as I could tell, had no windows and no signs.

There was, however, an intercom by the set of double steel doors, and when Tyler gave them a membership number, the lock on the doors clicked open.

The doors opened into an alcove that reminded me of the entry to Destiny. A woman in a black latex bodysuit smiled at Tyler. "Welcome back."

"Thank you, Tricia. This is my guest, Ms. Watson. If you could take her coat? And I was hoping I could use one of the collars."

"Sure," Tricia said, then winked at me. "Lucky you," she said, but I barely heard her through the Klaxons ringing in my suddenly fuzzy brain.

"Collar?" I said to Tyler, as the girl disappeared through a door in the back. "She said collar? For me? And what exactly do you expect me to do once she takes my coat?"

"I'll expect you to follow me," he said, then smiled, slow and easy and seductive. "You recall our arrangement, don't you? You're mine, remember? You know what I want from you."

"A collar," I repeated, as my gut twisted with nerves. But even as it did, I couldn't deny the prickles of heat building between my thighs, or the way my now erect nipples rubbed provocatively against the silk lining of the jacket.

A collar.

And nothing else.

Oh, my fucking god.

I let it all sink in. We were in a dungeon, a playroom, a BDSM parlor, whatever you wanted to call it. He wanted to take me inside, and I didn't have even a clue what he intended to do in there.

I was nervous. Hell, I was terrified.

But I was also wildly turned on.

"Yes," Tyler said, as he watched my face. "I think we're going to have a very good time."

Tricia came back and handed him a black leather collar with a single silver ring onto which was attached a leash.

Tyler took it, then crooked a finger beckoning me forward. I went, tentative, then held my breath as he brought the collar to my neck.

"Wait," I said, then paused until he was looking me in the eye. "Just for here, right?"

He brushed a gentle kiss over my lips. "Just for here."

He hooked the collar behind my neck, loose enough that breathing was comfortable, but still tight enough to stay in place. "The jacket," he said. "Give it to Tricia."

I considered arguing, but I knew I wouldn't win. And though I'd teased in the car about misbehaving, at the moment, I really didn't want to test the spanking waters.

I shrugged out of the jacket, folded it, then laid it on the counter in front of the girl. Her eyes skimmed over me, then she turned to Tyler. "Lovely. Do you share?"

"Not tonight," he said, leaving me wondering what might happen on some other night. "I want the circle. Unless it's not available."

"Nope, you're good," she said, then pressed a button that caused another set of doors in front of us to swing inward. "Have fun."

"With me," Tyler said, and tugged gently on the leash, leading me down a dim hallway lit only with sporadically placed candles. After a few twists and turns, I started to see alcoves off the hall, some with plush furniture like a Victorian sitting room, some with much more interesting paraphernalia like sex swings and latex beds and tables crisscrossed with leather straps.

In one of the more plush rooms I saw a tall brunette dressed in black leather gently stroking the cheek of a petite blond woman with the end of a riding crop. We passed quickly, but I knew where I'd seen her before. Destiny. She was the woman who'd been with him at the bar.

"This place," I said to Tyler, tamping down an unwelcome rush of jealousy. "Do you come here a lot?"

"I don't, no."

I frowned, something in his voice sparking my curiosity.

"We just passed a woman," I said. "I saw her earlier. At Destiny." I hesitated, then added, "You were talking with her."

"That's Michelle," he said, and the name rang in my memory.

"Michelle." I remembered the note on his computer and the conversation in his office. "Wait. Isn't she Cole's girlfriend?"