About the Authors

JACKIE ASHENDEN writes dark, emotional stories with alpha heroes who’ve just gotten the world to their liking only to have it blown wide apart by their kick-ass heroines. She lives in Auckland, New Zealand, with her husband, the inimitable Dr. Jax, two kids and two rats. When she’s not torturing alpha males and their gutsy heroines, she can be found drinking chocolate martinis, reading anything she can lay her hands on, wasting time on social media or being forced to go mountain biking with her husband. To keep up-to-date with Jackie’s new releases and other news, sign up to her newsletter at jackieashenden.com.

CLARE CONNELLY was raised in small-town Australia among a family of avid readers. She spent much of her childhood up a tree, Mills & Boon book in hand. Clare is married to her own real-life hero, and they live in a bungalow near the sea with their two children. She is frequently found staring into space—a surefire sign that she’s in the world of her characters. She has a penchant for French food and ice-cold champagne, and Mills & Boon novels continue to be her favorite-ever books. Writing for Mills & Boon is a long-held dream. Clare can be contacted via clareconnelly.com or her Facebook page.

TARYN BELLE is the pen name of Cea Person, a bestselling Canadian author who wrote about her unconventional childhood in two memoirs, North of Normal and Nearly Normal, both published by HarperCollins. She is a former international model and a businesswoman, running a swimwear company with merchandise popularized by celebrities such as Jessica Alba and Kate Hudson. She loves playing board games with her husband and three children, hosting dinner parties in her Vancouver home, and crafting out.

MARGOT RADCLIFFE lives in Columbus, Ohio, right now, but surrenders to wanderlust every couple of years, so it’s hard to say where she’ll end up next. Regardless of location, her apricot dog will be by her side while she writes fun romances that hopefully make readers laugh and space out for a bit. With heroines who aren’t afraid to take what they want and confident heroes who are up to a challenge, she loves creating complicated, modern love stories. She can be found @margotradcliffe on Twitter and @margot_radcliffe on Instagram.

Also by Jackie Ashenden

The Knights of Ruin

Ruined

Destroyed

Kings of Sydney

King’s Price

King’s Rule

King’s Ransom

The Billionaires Club

The Debt

Billion $ Bastards

Dirty Devil

Also by Clare Connelly

Guilty as Sin

Her Guilty Secret

His Innocent Seduction

The Billionaires Club

The Deal

The Notorious Harts

Cross My Hart

Also by Taryn Belle

In Too Deep

In For Keeps

Also by Margot Radcliffe

Friends with Benefits

Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk

The Dare Collection April 2020

Sexy Beast

Jackie Ashenden

Burn My Hart

Clare Connelly

Intoxicated

Taryn Belle

Sin City Seduction

Margot Radcliffe

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ISBN: 978-0-008-90722-8

THE DARE COLLECTION APRIL 2020

Sexy Beast © 2020 Jackie Ashenden Burn My Hart © 2020 Clare Connelly Intoxicated © 2020 Cea Sunrise Person Sin City Seduction © 2020 Terra Rogerson

Published in Great Britain 2020

by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF

All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.

By payment of the required fees, you are granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right and licence to download and install this e-book on your personal computer, tablet computer, smart phone or other electronic reading device only (each a “Licensed Device”) and to access, display and read the text of this e-book on-screen on your Licensed Device. Except to the extent any of these acts shall be permitted pursuant to any mandatory provision of applicable law but no further, no part of this e-book or its text or images may be reproduced, transmitted, distributed, translated, converted or adapted for use on another file format, communicated to the public, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher.

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www.millsandboon.co.uk

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Table of Contents

Cover

About the Authors

Booklist

Title Page

Copyright

Note to Readers

Sexy Beast

Back Cover Text

Dedication

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

CHAPTER NINETEEN

EPILOGUE

Burn My Harty

Back Cover Text

PROLOGUE

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Intoxicated

Back Cover Text

Dedication

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Sin City Seduction

Back Cover Text

Dedication

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

About the Publisher

Sexy Beast

Jackie Ashenden

Commanding billionaire Everett Calhoun reveals his sexy dark side to his girl-next-door best friend in this smoking hot second installment of the Billion $ Bastards trilogy!

I was born bad. Maintaining tight control—in business and in the bedroom—is the only way to keep my darkness in check. So when my girl-next-door best friend, Freya, comes to me for a sexual favor, I don’t see the harm in giving her what she needs. After all, I’ve always kept her firmly in the friend zone.

But after showing her that there’s nothing wrong with her ability to orgasm, it’s all I can do to walk away. Unleashing my inner beast on the person who matters most to me is not an option. But she wants me… Is she prepared to follow my every command? To submit to my will and let me take her to the ultimate heights of pleasure?

Getting Freya on her knees should make me feel like the monster I am, but being with her leaves me more vulnerable, more human, than ever. I need to reclaim the friendship we had before I lose control completely, or will she have me on my knees…?

Harlequin DARE publishes sexy romances featuring powerful alpha heroes and bold, fearless heroines exploring their deepest fantasies.

Four new Harlequin DARE titles are available each month, wherever ebooks are sold!

To the lady in the University of Auckland library

staff room who used to blatantly read romance every

lunchtime despite the sneers. This one’s for you.

CHAPTER ONE

Freya

I HATED EVERETT’S launch party.

It wasn’t really his fault. It was just that my dress was too tight, making me feel like an overstuffed sausage, and when you’re nearly six foot, built on the Amazonian side—not to mention a redhead—an overstuffed sausage is not how you want to feel. Plus there was the whole being a Clydesdale in a room full of Arabian Thoroughbreds thing going on, what with the room being full of tiny women in glittering dresses, all prancing around.

But that wasn’t unusual for me. As a mechanic from a tin-pot little Texan town whose best friend just happened to be a billionaire, I was often in situations where I didn’t really fit.

I was way more comfortable in my garage, lying under a car in grease-stained overalls, than I was at fancy fundraisers like this one.

My friend Everett Calhoun and his two friends Damian Blackwood and Ulysses White were launching a special foundation that they’d set up with the backing of the giant multi-billion-dollar company the three of them had started years ago. The fundraiser had all the fancy trappings of a really big event, with famous people and designer outfits, jewellery auctions and a really amazing venue—the British Museum—in a gallery with lots of sculptures from ancient history.

Not my idea of a good time. I preferred hanging with friends at a low-key bar or pub, with a beer.

But then, I wasn’t here because I liked glitzy parties.

I was here because Everett’s business interests took him all over the world and I very rarely got to see him. He’d needed a date for this party, and so he’d asked me. He never asked for help; he was more usually attempting to help me—not that I’d ever let him—so it was nice to be able to do something for him.

I’d always wanted to see London and since I’d taken on Casey at the garage I was able to leave the business without worrying it might fall over if I missed a day or two.

Resisting the urge to rub my sweaty palms down the dress I’d hurriedly picked up at a store along Oxford Street that afternoon, I craned my neck trying to spot where Everett was. He’d told me he was going off to find me a drink and he was taking his time about it. Not that I was unhappy about that.

Because there was another reason why the party was getting to me. Why I was feeling antsy and restless and more than a little distracted. Everett might have needed me to be his date tonight, but I also needed something from him. Something I’d been considering a lot on the flight to London that I hoped wouldn’t change our friendship, but maybe would, and whether that was a good idea or not was anyone’s guess.

But I couldn’t start talking to him about that because he wasn’t here, which was super annoying. Especially when I really needed the margarita he was supposed to be getting me.

He shouldn’t have been that hard to spot considering he was six-four and built like Superman, but I couldn’t see him anywhere.

I could see Damian Blackwood, phenomenally good-looking and radiating charm like a Hollywood movie star, talking to a bunch of people and making them laugh, his beautiful voice and Australian accent making him easy to pick out in the crowd.

Ulysses White was there too, striding around grim-faced, his black eyes full of ice, his assistant trailing after him—another of those thoroughbred women—looking exasperated.

But Everett Calhoun? My best friend in the whole wide world? Where the hell was he?

‘Little,’ a deep voice from behind me said.

Only one person ever called me ‘Little’.

I turned and there he was, and right on cue my heart starting beating faster, the way it always did around him. The way it had been doing ever since he was sixteen and I, two years younger, was adjusting the bow tie on the suit he’d hired for prom.

He’d been gorgeous then and he was gorgeous now, especially in a tux, the tailored black fabric highlighting his height and the width of his shoulders and powerful chest.

Back in Texas, before the military, he’d worn nothing but jeans and T-shirts and always looked hot AF. But in the suits he now wore? Oh, man, flat out delicious.

His dark blond hair had once been shaggy and I’d always wanted to push it out of his eyes. Now he wore it cut army-short and, even though I missed the length, I liked the way the short cut highlighted his amazing face.

He wasn’t classically handsome, like his friend Damian. His features were blunter, harsher, intensely masculine. His jaw was strong and square, and his nose had a bump in it from when it had been broken while he’d been on deployment somewhere. His brows were heavy, his eyes deep set and blue as the ocean, with a tinge of green. He’d never been much of a smiler, which was a shame since his mouth was the perfect shape for kissing and—

Stop.

Everett was staring at me, blond brows pulling down into his usual frown, the one that made him look like a very stern Viking. ‘What’s up? I got you the margarita you wanted.’ He held out the drink while I tried to ignore my physical response to him.

It wasn’t usually this noticeable. Then again, I wasn’t usually at a party trying to get up the courage to ask my best friend if he’d help me out…sexually.

Not that I wanted actual sex. I just wanted an orgasm. No biggie.

First, though, I needed a drink.

Shoving thoughts of orgasms aside, I gave him a grin. ‘Took your time. What did you do? Make the tequila yourself?’

‘Had to help Damian with a problem.’ Everett was characteristically short on detail. ‘You want this or what?’

Still grinning, I grabbed the glass and took a large gulp, the alcohol burning on its way down. I probably needed to be careful, especially considering it had been alcohol that had put the thought of Everett and orgasms in my head in the first place.

It had been my twenty-first birthday and my first time in a bar. Too much beer and late night conversation about relationships—or, rather, my lack of one. And by ‘relationships’ I meant ‘sex’. Or, rather, me rambling on to Everett about how sex wasn’t that great for me, because men didn’t seem to know how to get me off. I couldn’t quite understand how the conversation had ended up where it had, but the result was Everett telling me that if I wanted an orgasm that badly to come and see him, and he’d give me one.

I’d forgotten about it the next day—mainly because I’d been drunk as a skunk—and he hadn’t mentioned it either, and so the offer had gotten lost in the mists of my own drunken memory.

But a week or so later the memory had popped back up, my embarrassment complete when it reminded me that while I might have been drunk during that conversation, Everett had been stone cold sober. Of course my brain had instantly frozen, the briefest burst of hope flashing through me before I could stop it. The hope that maybe the offer meant he was as interested in me as I was in him. Stupid brain. I knew he wasn’t. He’d never treated me as anything more than a friend and I was sure his orgasm proposal had more to do with friendship than it did with any kind of sexual attraction.

Which naturally had ensured I would never take him up on it. Ever. I didn’t want pity orgasms from Everett, because that was what it felt like, no matter what his intention had been in offering to help.

I didn’t need his help. Never had. And that had nothing to do with the fact that I’d been crushing on him since for ever and had always nurtured secret thoughts that maybe one day he’d suddenly turn around and see that his best friend was a woman, not just a tomboy in grease-stained overalls.

Except then Tiffany’s wedding had come along. She was my favourite cousin—I was brought up with her after my mother died—and I’d been asked to go, but the thought of enduring a hen party full of sexual innuendo, when I had no decent sex life to make innuendos about, seemed sad. My aunt and her family—Tiff excluded—thought I was pretty sad as it was, and I was a little sick of it. Being nearly thirty and not having had an orgasm with a partner seemed wrong, and I was a little sick of that too.

I could have pretended, I guess. Made up some story of wild, no-holds-barred sex with some amazing guy. But the truth was that I’d always had a nagging doubt that the problem lay with me. That there was something wrong with me, that I wasn’t much of a woman somehow.

I hated that feeling since I knew exactly where it had come from: my very critical aunt who never failed to comment on my faults, especially on my height and how unfeminine I was. And even though I was totally fine with myself these days, her comments had stuck, echoing in my head when I was at my lowest. Whispering to me that I’d never be able to have a fulfilling relationship, that I’d end up being alone for ever.

I didn’t want to be alone for ever. I didn’t want her comments in my head any more. I didn’t want to feel like a lumbering Clydesdale in a room full of pretty fillies. I didn’t want that doubt about myself.

So I’d changed my mind about Everett’s offer. I wanted to feel like a woman and if anyone could do that it was him. Sure, it might be a pity orgasm, but hey, at least then I’d know that the problem wasn’t me.

He had his hands shoved in his pockets now and was staring at me, still looking every inch the stern Viking with his steely gaze, hard jaw and powerful build.

An intimidating guy, Everett Calhoun.

But he’d never intimidated me. I’d known him since I was eight and he was the boy next door who’d seen me crying in the backyard. He asked me if I wanted to shoot some hoops with him, because he wanted to be a basketball player when he grew up and that I should be too, since I was tall.

He’d been the first person to see my height as an asset not a drawback, and that was how he’d treated me ever since. He was a good guy who looked out for people even though life had dealt him a shitty hand.

Or at least it had been shitty. Now it was pretty good, though he’d worked very hard to get where he was today, and I admired him for that.

Still wasn’t intimidated, though.

‘You didn’t answer my question,’ he said patiently.

‘What question?’

‘I asked you what was up.’

So he had.

‘So “what’s up” in the general sense?’ I said. ‘Or maybe “what’s up” in the literal sense, as in some balloons escaping or…’

Everett remained silent, his blue gaze unwavering. How had he picked up that I was nervous? Admittedly, I tended to run at the mouth when I was uncertain, but I was sure I hadn’t been babbling before.

I needed some more margarita. Stat.

‘Jet lag,’ I said, gulping at my drink. ‘It’s a bitch.’

‘Jet lag,’ he echoed, those two words somehow encompassing an entire universe of scepticism.

‘Yeah, man. Flying cattle class is no joke. You’ve probably forgotten.’

Everett’s brows twitched. ‘I offered to pay for business class.’

‘Which was generous, but unnecessary.’ I could have used the extra legroom, but it was just such a waste of money. A plane was a plane. ‘Anyway, so this is fun. Not. Why didn’t you ask one of the fillies over there to be your date?’ I waved my glass in the general direction of the Thoroughbreds. ‘I’m not ungrateful, believe me. Just…puzzled.’

‘Because Morgan said we had to bring someone who mattered to us,’ Everett said, turning to glance out across the crowded gallery.

Morgan was the little woman I’d seen trailing after Ulysses. His PA and Damian’s baby sister, apparently. She was the one who’d organised this launch for the new Black and White Foundation, which was something to do with disadvantaged kids. A great project, I thought, and it was very Everett to put all his considerable money behind a very good cause.

He was a man of action rather than words, but that was what I liked about him. He never spent a lot of time talking about what he was going to do. He just went ahead and did it.

‘Plus,’ Everett went on, clearly reading my mind, ‘I hate shit like this and it’s good having someone around that I don’t need to talk to all the time.’

I grinned, a small glow of pleasure sitting just behind my breastbone. It was always nice to be appreciated by him, especially since he didn’t often say stuff like that out loud.

All of this is going to change when you ask him for your favour—you realise that, don’t you?

Lifting my glass, I took another healthy sip, watching the swirl of the crowd in the gallery and shoving that thought aside to an unused corner of my brain. Operation Orgasm didn’t have to change anything, not if I didn’t let it. And I wasn’t going to let it.

All I wanted was to turn up at Tiffany’s hen party with the knowledge that my clitoris and/or vagina were in perfect working order, and that I was just as much a woman as my perfect, delicate cousins were, despite what my aunt thought. And hey, once I knew for certain that the issue wasn’t me, perhaps I could move on from my hopeless crush on my best friend and find someone who might want to crush on me instead.

‘Thanks E,’ I said. ‘Best friends who are also billionaires rule.’

He grunted, which was Everett-speak for thank you.

I knocked back more margarita, only slightly disturbed to see I’d had nearly all of it in the couple of minutes since Everett had brought it to me. But if downing a whole margarita in the space of five minutes was what was needed to get this request out, then that was what was needed.

There was a silence. An uncomfortable one.

I was painfully conscious of his massive, powerful figure standing next to me, and for a second I didn’t know what would be worse, him saying, ‘Yeah, sure, I’ll give you an orgasm’ or, ‘Not if my life depended on it’.

‘You’re nervous.’ His deep voice was a rumble, his gaze still on the swirling crowd. ‘Why?’

Dammit. Of course he’d come back around to that. He never let anything go, the asshole. And I still wasn’t ready to tell him the reason.

You’re never going to be ready.

That was, unfortunately, true. In which case, I needed to suck it up, get on with it and stop pretending it mattered. Hell, if the worst came to the worst, I could always pay someone to give me one. I wouldn’t be the first woman to pay for an orgasm, surely?

Ignoring his question, I downed the rest of my margarita and put the empty glass on a plinth supporting some ancient Greek sculpture. Then I glanced around to make sure there weren’t any other groups of people near us, because the last thing I wanted was an audience.

Luckily, there was no one in our immediate vicinity, so I turned to face him. I was aware of the small thrill that hit me every time I had to look up at him, because I generally had to look down at people, not up. ‘I…uh…need to ask you something.’

He raised one blond brow.

Okay, Freya. It’s now or never.

It should have been easy. I owned a garage and was around men all day. I’d never had any problems talking to them before. I’d never had any problems talking to Everett either. But suddenly it wasn’t easy. Suddenly it felt like the hardest thing I’d had to do for years and years.

Perhaps it was because I preferred to give help rather than receive it. It definitely had nothing whatsoever to do with the sex.

‘So, uh, remember the night of my twenty-first birthday?’ I began awkwardly.

His gaze narrowed. ‘Some.’

‘Right, well, you know you made me an offer that night?’

His gaze narrowed still further. Did he remember? Part of me hoped he didn’t, even though it would mean me having to explain the whole thing out loud.

‘About orgasms, yes?’ He didn’t hesitate with the reply or stumble over the word. As if he said ‘orgasms’ every day in just that tone of voice.

So. Clearly, he remembered. Which was great since I didn’t have to go over the whole thing again, but also…awkward.

‘Yeah.’ I willed my cheeks not to flush, because red on red was never a good look. ‘And you said that—’

‘If you wanted an orgasm, you could come to me,’ he finished, his face disturbingly expressionless.

‘That’s about the size of it.’ My hands were somehow in fists at my sides so I opened them, trying to relax. ‘So, I guess that’s why I’m a little…nervous.’ I took a breath. ‘Because…uh… I’d like to take you up on your offer.’

CHAPTER TWO

Everett

I’D BEEN RIGHT in thinking she was nervous. I’d picked up on it the moment I’d met her at the gate at Heathrow that morning, and it had only seemed to get worse as the day had gone on.

But I’d thought it must have something to do with the Black and White Foundation launch. Like me, she hated formal parties, and I’d assumed it was that.

But apparently it wasn’t the party.

It was me and the orgasm offer I’d made her years ago.

I’d thought she’d forgotten about that, especially since she’d been drunk at the time. She certainly hadn’t mentioned it the next day, or even since, and so I’d left it, because if there was one thing Freya was it was stubborn as hell. And if she didn’t want my help then she didn’t want it.

In fact, ‘No, thanks’ was her stock answer to all the help I’d offered her over the years. No, thanks to the finance for her garage when she’d first set it up. No, thanks to a loan for a house when she’d finally got sick of her aunt’s constant criticism and decided to move out. No, thanks to a vacation at one of my properties in Hawaii after working her ass off the first year she’d owned her garage. No, thanks to talking to the bank after she’d fallen behind on some of her repayments.

It pissed me off. Mainly because I liked doing things for the people who mattered in my life, and Freya mattered. But she was adamant in refusing me every single goddamn time, and so I’d stopped offering, because I wasn’t a fucking idiot.

Except, for some reason, my help was exactly what she wanted this evening.

Interesting. What had made her want it now?

She was looking pretty damn embarrassed. Her face was bright red, which was startling against the vivid green of the pretty gown she’d bought on a lightning fast trip down Oxford Street, and her fingers were splayed stiffly at her sides, as if she was trying to relax her hands and not doing a very good job.

So, nervous and embarrassed, which meant something had to have pushed her into asking me.

‘My offer,’ I repeated, studying her. ‘That you’ve never mentioned before today. Not even once.’

She gave me a forced grin. ‘Yep. That’s the one.’

‘Why?’ I asked. ‘And why now?’

‘I’m super glad you asked me that question, because yes, there’s definitely a reason.’ She let out a breath. ‘It’s Tiffany’s wedding in a couple of weeks and I didn’t want to turn up dateless yet again. Plus the hen party is going to be a nightmare. So I thought if I knew for sure that the problem wasn’t me—’

‘The problem is never you,’ I interrupted, because I didn’t like it when she talked herself down. She didn’t do it when it came to fixing engines, so I couldn’t understand why she did it in relation to her love life.

She rolled her eyes the way she always did whenever I tried to tell her she was wrong about something. ‘Yeah, well, I don’t actually know that it’s not me, do I? Because if I did I sure as hell wouldn’t be embarrassing myself by asking you for help.’

My usual irritation at her insistence on not letting me do a single thing for her shifted, getting sharper at her obvious annoyance at having to ask me for help at all.

But I didn’t let it show. I never let anything show.

‘So nothing’s changed then?’ I ignored her eye roll. ‘You haven’t even found one guy who’s managed to get you off?’

Annoyance glittered in her dark jade-green eyes. ‘No, and not through want of trying, believe me.’

‘No need to be defensive. I’m just trying to work out why I’m your last resort.’

‘You’re not my last resort.’ She shifted on the strappy high-heeled sandals she’d bought with the dress, teetering only slightly. ‘Sex just isn’t something you’d ask your best friend for help with, okay?’

‘Not necessarily,’ I disagreed, still annoyed for some reason. ‘But then, you’re not asking me for sex, are you?’ I lifted a brow. ‘Or are you?’

She flushed, going the same shade of fiery red as the fat plait that hung down her back. ‘Uh, no.’

‘So, just an orgasm then?’

‘Yes. Look, you don’t have to do it if you don’t want to. I’d rather it wasn’t something you got mad about.’

How she knew I was irritated, I had no idea, but then Freya often picked up on my emotions with uncanny accuracy. Which only irritated me further.

Why are you getting mad about it, anyway?

I wasn’t mad. I was just…irritated.

I’d made her the offer because I didn’t like seeing her unhappy, and that kind of vanilla sex wasn’t a big deal. Fixing her sex life for her wasn’t any different from her fixing my car for me. And besides, I was good at it. Getting a woman off was easy when you knew what you were doing, and I certainly did. But she hadn’t mentioned it again and since that was pretty much par for the course with any help I offered her, I’d left it at that.

I hadn’t thought it was still a problem, but obviously it was.

‘I’m not mad,’ I said aloud, to remind myself. ‘And I haven’t said no. I’m just disappointed you didn’t come to me sooner.’

‘Yeah, well, I didn’t.’ She gave a little shrug and for some reason I found myself staring at the way the silky fabric of her gown pulled across the curves of her generous breasts. ‘Like I said, I don’t usually think of orgasms in conjunction with my best friend.’

There was no reason that she should either, since I’d never seen her as anything more than a friend who happened to be a woman. Sure, I’d checked her out, because I was a man and not blind, and she was gorgeous. Who wouldn’t notice a nearly six foot tall redhead with an athletic body and the kind of curves to keep a man very happy indeed? A round, pretty face, cute button nose, full pouty mouth and enough freckles to fuel the girl next door fantasies from here to fucking kingdom come.

Freya wasn’t a pocket Venus. She was the literal, actual, life-sized version.

But, even so, I’d placed her very firmly in the friend zone. She was the single most important person in my life and I didn’t want to compromise our friendship with sex. Especially given the kind of sex I preferred. I’d always tried to be the good guy in her life, the person she could count on no matter what, and the last thing I wanted was to put that at risk because I couldn’t control my own stupid dick.

I wasn’t looking for more even if I’d wanted it. My legacy would be the Black and White Foundation for disadvantaged kids, the one that Ulysses, Damian and I were launching that night, and I was more than happy with that. A family of my own wasn’t on the cards and never would be, not with the kind of shitty genes that I had. But I wanted to do something with my wealth, otherwise what was the point in having it?

Damian liked to spend his money on fast cars, parties, jewels and women, while Ulysses preferred tech. I spent my hard-earned cash on protecting those who couldn’t protect themselves—initiatives for the homeless, women’s refuges, anti-violence campaigns, addiction centres and various other things, especially in my home town.

Which all sounds very virtuous and sacrificial, but it wasn’t. My friends were born good guys, though they spent their money trying to make themselves look bad.

I’d been born bad and spent my money trying to make myself good.

So far it was working, but who knew for how long?

Won’t be for long if you tell Freya what you really like when it comes to dealing out orgasms.

I scowled at the thought. Yeah, that wasn’t happening. Not on any planet. The last thing my decidedly un-kinky best friend needed to know was that I got off ordering other women around and punishing them.

Freya frowned at me. ‘And now you’re scowling. This is going well.’

Firmly shoving aside thoughts of the dominance games I liked to play, I concentrated my attention on her instead. ‘Be straight with me, Little. What exactly are you asking for?’

She only just missed another eye roll. ‘I thought I was clear, but okay, apparently not. I’d like just one orgasm that isn’t self-administered before having to go to Tiffany’s hen party in a couple of weeks. There.’ She drew herself up, her chin lifting. ‘That straight enough for you?’

How are you going to do it? Put her on her knees? Get her to suck you off?

I had no idea where the thought came from. Maybe from the glitter of challenge in her eyes, because a challenge from a woman always got me interested. Or, rather, it got my inner dominant interested.

Yet it had never happened with Freya before. Never ever. And it wasn’t because she hadn’t challenged me before, because she certainly had. She constantly poked at me, but it was always in a very easy-going, good-natured way that amused me rather than anything else.

Maybe that was why the Dom in me stirred. She hadn’t ever given me a look quite as direct as that before. Or maybe it wasn’t her directness but her request to help her sexually that had got me thinking about how to give her what she wanted in a way that would be the most intensely satisfying for her.

Either way, I found myself looking at her closely, studying how the green silk of her gown clung to her figure, outlining curves a goddess would have been proud of. Beautiful, full tits. An elegant waist. Curvy hips. Long, long legs.

Normally, I didn’t much care what kind of body a woman had, because it was all about the way they submitted to me that got me off. But I had to admit that, thinking about it, Freya had one hell of a sexy figure.

She could take anything you gave her.

The thought wound through my head and I wasn’t sure I liked it. Because although I could give Freya what she wanted, it would be vanilla all the way. I didn’t need to subject my friend to the kinds of games I liked to play. Hell, if I wanted that, there were plenty of clubs that could meet my needs. In fact, I already knew of a couple in London that I could head to after the party.

‘Yeah, that’ll do,’ I said, shoving all those thoughts away. ‘Though I don’t know why you need to prove anything to Tiffany.’

Tiffany was the cousin she liked the most and the only one out of all that family who wasn’t a total dickhead. I’d always hated the way they treated Freya—her aunt especially—but Freya had never let me intervene. It was her problem to deal with, apparently.

‘I’m not proving anything to her,’ Freya said firmly, giving me a warning look. ‘I’m proving it to me, okay?’

Stubborn Little. She could give a mule a run for its money. ‘Understood. Though you don’t need to—’

‘Oh, for God’s sake, E,’ she interrupted. ‘Just tell me whether you will or not.’

I ignored the small electric jolt that her interruption sent straight down my spine, making the beast in me want to put her on her knees and punish her for it.

She was always so impatient. I preferred to collect all the available intel before I made a decision and this situation was no different. ‘Why me?’

‘Seriously? You know why you. You offered, remember?’

‘Yeah, but you’d clearly rather do anything else than be here right now asking me for an o—’

‘Okay, okay.’ She flapped her hands at me yet again then took a little breath, giving me the look she always gave me when she was being serious and straight up, which wasn’t very often. ‘Look, you said you were good at it. You said you always got a woman off. That your failure rate was zero percent.’ Her forehead creased. ‘Or is this a fisherman situation?’

‘This is not a fisherman situation. Why would I lie about it?’

‘Men do.’ Her gaze was very serious. ‘All the freaking time.’

Of course, I instantly wanted to know who’d lied to her and why, but now wasn’t the time. I’d have to ask her about it later.

‘I do not have a failure rate,’ I said flatly, ‘because I’ve never not got a woman off.’ It wasn’t a brag. Just a straight-up fact. ‘And yes, I can get you off too, if you want me to.’

I’d never been going to refuse her. Not helping her when she finally asked me for help was simply not an option.

An expression that looked like relief flickered across her face, though there was something else there that looked a little like uncertainty. ‘Oh, well, that’s, uh, great. But it’ll be a challenge. Not gonna lie. I’m a tough nut to crack.’

I gave her a look. Because Freya might act tough and make like she was one of the boys, but she was definitely a woman underneath all of that. And I knew how a woman’s body worked. I knew how a woman’s mind worked too—at least when it came to sex—and I had no doubt at all that using both to get Freya off would not be a problem.

‘You won’t be.’ I allowed myself a slight smile. ‘And besides, you know I like a challenge.’

‘You’ve definitely got one.’ She turned to look over the crowd once more.

‘Little,’ I ordered, letting a thread of steel wind through my voice, just to see what she’d do.

She turned to look at me pretty much instantly.

She’s responsive.

Oh, hell, no. Not going there, remember?

I held out my hand to her. ‘Come on. Let’s go find somewhere more private.’

Her eyes went very round. ‘What? You mean here? Now? But I—’

‘No point in waiting.’ I grabbed her hand and turned, tugging her along with me. There wasn’t much point in hanging around, and once I’d made up my mind I acted. And the part of the launch where various items were going to be auctioned off for a fundraiser, including some of Damian’s jewellery collection, was going to be starting soon and I had to be present for it. Might as well get this over and done with right now.

CHAPTER THREE

Freya

EVERETT’S HAND WAS WARM, his fingers firm as he took my hand in his, and I found myself being tugged along behind him as he strode from the gallery, heading for one of the exits.

For a couple of seconds I was too shocked to resist. I was too shocked to do anything much but stumble after him, my brain flailing around trying to work out what was going on. Because he couldn’t be serious. He couldn’t mean this orgasm stuff now. Could he?

You know he is.

But of course he was. Everett was nothing but serious and once he made up his mind about something he didn’t mess around. When he had a mission he was on it and nothing and no one would come between him and accomplishing it.

It was unexpectedly scary, and my heartbeat was suddenly ten million times faster than it had been a moment ago. I found it difficult to breathe and there appeared to be a whole roomful of butterflies fluttering around in my stomach. I wished I’d had another margarita because, holy shit, I needed one.

What if I couldn’t do it? What if he couldn’t? What if Everett Calhoun and his zero percent failure rate actually failed? Where would that leave me?

Perhaps there’s something wrong with you after all.

I tried to ignore that thought, tried to pull myself together as Everett tugged me out of the gallery and into a quiet corridor, where there was no one around.

Then he dropped my hand and turned, his palms settling on my hips—his big, hot palms—as he pushed me gently, but very firmly, into a small alcove off the corridor and up against the wall.

I blinked.

Everett was a big guy, tall and broad and muscular. And of course I’d noticed, because there weren’t many men around who were taller than me. But I’d never thought I’d like just how much taller he was, and how much broader. How it felt like he was towering over me, his wide shoulders blocking out the view of the corridor, his body a wall of hard granite right in front of me.

A wall of hot, hard granite.

Holy shit. My mouth had gone dry and I was abruptly very, very conscious of his hands on my hips, and how the heat of his palms was burning through the silk of my stupid tight dress.

His hands were so big. How come I’d never noticed that before? And how come I’d never noticed just how hot he was either?

I looked up and had to tilt my head back just to meet his gaze; the butterflies in my stomach fluttered harder. My breathing had gone AWOL and the atmosphere was suddenly crackling with a weird sort of electricity that seemed to be solely generated by Everett’s intense blue stare.

The way he looked at me, like I was the sole interesting thing in the universe, was…disturbing. And the way he loomed over me was disturbing as well, because it was making me feel…small. His big hands made me feel almost…dainty.

He was so very, very male and for the first time in my entire existence I felt very, very female.

I didn’t like it. I’d come to terms with my height and my build. To the subtle slights my aunt sent my way about how I was a ‘big girl’ and that I had to be careful with overly feminine dresses because they would look strange on a ‘woman of your size’.

She meant well. She wasn’t being deliberately cruel. But I wasn’t like her or her three daughters, my cousins. I wasn’t small and slender. I didn’t like dolls or tea parties as a kid, and I didn’t like shopping as a teenager. I preferred hanging out with my uncle as he worked on his old Chevy, where there was no pressure to act or look a certain way. Where I wasn’t being picked at or told to be more like my cousins. Where all I had to do was hand him a wrench now and then.

So yeah, I didn’t want to be frilly and feminine. And I didn’t want to feel small and dainty, or any of the other female kinds of things I hadn’t measured up to. Especially not when I was supposed to be trying to settle Operation Orgasm.

So what are you going to do? Push him away?

I couldn’t do that, not now I’d asked him to help me out. And anyway, he was still my best chance. Zero percent failure rate, right?

So I tried not to think about his hands on my hips or his granite chest in front of me. Or how much he was towering over me right now. Instead, I went for my usual response: a joke.

‘Whoa there, tiger,’ I said breathlessly, pushing at his chest a little. ‘Give a girl some air.’

He didn’t move. Not even an inch. ‘Am I making you nervous?’

His voice was a dark, deep rumble, his blue eyes glittering with sparks of green, and I had the sudden sense that maybe I’d bitten off more than I could chew.

But that was crazy. This was Everett. My best friend Everett. And yes, I’d been lusting after him since I was a teenager, but I wasn’t a teenager anymore. I’d been with plenty of guys and pretty much they were all the same. They were either intimidated by me and tried to make up for it by being extra aggressive and douchey, or they wanted me to make all the decisions for them. Or, in the case of my last date, they started off confident and then, when I failed to get into it, they blamed me for not being sexy enough.

Everett wasn’t like any of them, it was true, but would he really be that different?

I was afraid I already knew the answer. And I was afraid because if he was different this would make everything so much more pressured. What if he couldn’t do it? Or, even worse, what if I couldn’t?

And what if he could?

One warm hand gripped my chin, forcing my head back, and I found myself looking into his eyes. ‘Answer the question.’ There was a steely note in his voice, one I’d never heard him use with me before.

‘W-What question?’ I asked, stammering for no good reason other than the heat of his fingertips on my skin was making every thought in my head fray and shred like wet paper.

‘Do I make you nervous?’

‘No, of course not.’ My response was automatic and also a complete lie, because yes, he was making me nervous. He was making me very nervous indeed. ‘I mean, come on, E. You’re you. I’ve known you since you were ten years old and you’d cry when you missed a hoop—’

Unexpectedly, his thumb pressed down over my mouth, shutting me up.

I blinked, momentarily stunned silent.

‘You talk a lot when you’re nervous,’ he said. ‘You turn everything into a big joke, because that’s easier than being afraid, right? So what are you afraid of, Little? Tell me.’

Afraid? Ha! As if. At least not of him. But I didn’t want to tell him all about the stuff I was afraid of. Such as how I was worried that there was truly something wrong with me. That the reason I couldn’t come had something to do with a defect in me. Because I was supposed to be fine with myself the way I was. I was supposed not to care.

So, in lieu of answering, I opened my mouth and bit his thumb instead.

At least, I tried to. Because the second I was about to bite down, he murmured, ‘Uh-uh. Little girls who bite don’t get what they want.’

It was honestly so stupid that I should have laughed. Little girls who bite? Come on. Yet I’d never felt less like laughing in my entire life.

I was very conscious that the tip of his thumb was in my mouth and that he tasted salty, the flavour of his skin on my tongue making me both hungry and thirsty for something I didn’t know how to ask for.

‘Good girl,’ he said, when it became obvious to both him and me that I wasn’t going to bite down. He removed his thumb. ‘Now, answer the question. What are you nervous about?’ There was no doubt he expected to be obeyed. No doubt at all.

And instead of laughing, of telling him what a dick he was being, I heard myself say, ‘That I can’t do this.’

He didn’t laugh. He didn’t even smile. He only frowned slightly. ‘Why would you think that?’

I didn’t want to go any deeper into all the insecurities I’d thought I’d shrugged off over the years, that were all apparently still there, so all I said was, ‘We’re in a hallway and there are people around. And it’s not even like I can get naked or anything.’ I let out a breath, suddenly miserable. ‘It’s not going to work.’

Everett arched one blond brow, as if he’d never heard anything so stupid in all his life. ‘First, you’re assuming you have to get naked to come. And second, you’re assuming that I don’t know what I’m doing. And I do.’

Man, he could be arrogant sometimes.

‘Oh, yeah?’ I didn’t hide my scepticism, because this was all starting to feel a little ridiculous. ‘How?’

He tapped me lightly on the forehead. ‘You use this.’

I scowled. ‘Hate to break it to you, E, but my clit is not in my forehead.’

Ignoring my joke, he only gave me the most intense, stern look, that made me want to squirm. Then, very lightly, he trailed his finger from my forehead down the centre of my nose to the tip, and then further down, pressing gently in the dip at the top of my lip, before brushing over the curve of my bottom lip, a brief touch on my chin, and then away.

I froze, my heartbeat roaring in my ears like it did after a particularly hard workout at the gym.

It felt like he’d drawn a stripe of fire right down the centre of my face. Like he’d picked up one of the arc welders I had in my garage and turned it on my skin, searing me. My skin burned, my mouth incredibly sensitive.

What the hell had he done? With a single touch. Other guys had touched me before, but it had never felt like that. As if I’d been burned. It was almost too much, too intense. Like if he kept going, kept touching me, I’d break apart or collapse in a puddle of liquid metal at his feet.

‘Oh, yeah,’ he said, nothing but utter certainty in his eyes. ‘This is going to work.’

I swallowed, weirdly unable to look at him. Sure, I’d always had the hots for Everett Calhoun, but I hadn’t expected to respond this strongly to him and I didn’t understand it.

It made me want to shove him away and go back to the hotel, and then maybe get the next plane out. Run straight back to Texas and retreat into my garage, hide under the Maserati someone had brought in last week, lose myself in fiddling with engines. They, at least, were simple.

I couldn’t do that, though. I might have opened a can of worms with this dumb orgasm idea, but closing it now was pointless. Especially since all the worms had escaped.

‘What was that for?’ My voice had gone oddly husky.

Fascinating sparks of green glittered in his blue eyes. ‘Reconnaissance.’

I reached for another joke, trying to put some distance between me and my weird reactions. ‘Well, you know, I’ve been calling this Operation Orgasm in my head so I guess reconnaissance works. I’m kind of on a mission, right?’ I tried to grin. ‘You gotta plan strategy and tactics, that kind of stuff.’

‘Uh-huh,’ Everett said.

A silence fell, yet all I could hear was my voice echoing around the hallway, saying stupid things and trying to be funny. Trying to cover the fact that I was deeply unsure, and failing. And Everett only stood there, an implacable wall in front of me, staring at me, the tension around us getting more intense and electric.

I flushed and tried not to squirm under the pressure of that stare, my head filling up with all kinds of stuff I should say to make the moment less intense. To make myself feel less embarrassed and exposed. To make myself feel less vulnerable. Which was odd when I’d never felt this way around him before.

But my mouth wouldn’t work. He was so…big. His hands had come to rest on my hips again, and they were so hot. And I could smell the familiar scent of his aftershave, fresh and outdoorsy, like a forest on the edge of the sea. I’d always liked the way he smelled. It was sexy and familiar, and it made me feel good.

Except, the kind of good it was making me feel now was almost overwhelming. My heart was beating even faster, a heavy feeling between my thighs.

You’re getting hot for him. Way too hot.

Yeah and getting way too hot for him had never been part of the plan.

‘Dude, looking at me isn’t going to get this orgasm show on the road.’ I tried to sound casual and not at all like I was on the verge of a panic attack. ‘You have to actually do something.’

His stern gaze didn’t even flicker. ‘You’re talking too much again. Which is a good sign. Because if you weren’t nervous, I’d be worried.’

‘Yeah, I don’t think nervousness is a good thing when it comes to coming, if you know what I mean.’ I pushed playfully at his chest. ‘Come on, you’re crowding me here.’

He didn’t move.

‘E.’ I pushed at him again, but it was like trying to move a mountain. A huge, hot mountain. ‘Dude, seriously. I need some air.’

Again, he didn’t move, that intense stare burning right through me. ‘No, you don’t.’

‘Yes, I do. There’s—’

‘Plenty of air. You only feel like there isn’t because you’re breathing very fast.’

‘Yeah, because you’re standing right there and I don’t like—’

‘You do like it.’ He cut me off, his gaze on mine like a searchlight, shining into all the dark corners of my mind that I never went to. ‘You’re turned on by it. And you don’t want to be turned on, do you?’

‘Wow, who knew there’d be this much talking?’ I tried for yet another joke, desperately uncomfortable with the turn of the conversation. ‘Geez, E. Can’t you just go for my clit like a normal man?’

He completely ignored me. ‘You’re fighting it. Why?’

‘I’m not.’

‘You are.’ He shifted and my entire attention was caught by the way his big body moved, the pull of his tux across his shoulders, the stretch of the cotton over his muscular chest. ‘Why don’t you want to be turned on, Little? Is it me? Is it the situation? What?’

I glanced away. The intensity of his gaze was too much, so I tried concentrating on a spot just over one of his powerful shoulders. ‘I told you, I’m a challenge.’

He shifted again and then one of those big, hot hands slid down between my thighs, coming to rest directly over my pussy through my dress.

I went utterly still, shocked. Not so much at how he was touching me, but at my own intense reaction. I stared at him, trembling. Hard.

His thumb moved, exerting a slight pressure on my clit.

‘Holy shit,’ I choked out, the words coming out of me before I could stop them. Because I had no idea what the hell was happening. I was hot, burning up, all the heat concentrated where his hand was, where his thumb was, and on the pressure that was way too much and yet not enough.

‘A challenge?’ Everett murmured, his blue gaze gone turquoise as it searched my face. ‘No, Little. Far from it. You’re seconds from coming already.’

‘I’m not.’ The denial was automatic, because it couldn’t be true. It normally took ages for me to feel good with a guy and I’d usually turn my attentions on him, since that was easier. Sometimes, I could get myself to at least enjoying the proceedings, but I’d never, never got to trembling point at one touch, not like this.

‘Yeah, you are.’ Everett’s gaze was like a laser and I knew he could see my shock, my disbelief. ‘And you thought you were a tough nut to crack, hmm? Too easy, Little. Too easy. So, I’m going to make it harder.’ His focus intensified, making it harder to breathe, my pulse getting faster and faster. ‘You’re not allowed to come, okay?’

I couldn’t move and I couldn’t look away. It was like his stare was a tractor beam, holding me completely immobile. ‘B-But,’ I stuttered, my voice thick and hoarse. ‘Isn’t that the whole point?’

‘Don’t argue. Just do as you’re told.’

‘E—’ I broke off, gasping as his thumb shifted minutely between my thighs, the slight pressure on my clit sending the purest, most exquisite bolt of pleasure radiating through my entire body.

‘Don’t come.’ He virtually growled the order out, shifting again, moving closer so he was almost pressing against me, surrounding me with his heat. ‘If you do, I’ll be very disappointed.’

I barely heard him, too shocked at how my body was reacting and so turned on I could hardly speak. Because he was right. I was seconds away from coming right here in the hallway. All he’d have to do was move his thumb again, and that would be it. I’d be gone.

How was this happening? What was it that was making me feel this way?

Not what. Who.

I stared up at him, unable to do anything else, looking into his fierce blue-green eyes. It was him, wasn’t it? It was him, Everett, making me feel this way. With his height and his power. With that stern Viking stare. With the weird electricity that was crackling between us.

I’d always known I was attracted to him. I’d just never guessed that he would have this effect on me. And if I had…

You would never have come to him for help.

The thought arrowed through me at the same time as voices echoed down the hallway as a group of people came out of the gallery.

I tensed, but Everett didn’t move and neither did that maddening hand between my thighs. ‘E…’ I said shakily. ‘There are people coming.’

‘So?’

‘But I—’

‘Eyes on me, Little.’ He moved even closer as the voices got nearer, not looking away from me, shielding me with his body. And then his thumb moved again, a light touch, sending another bolt of pleasure pulsing along every nerve ending I had.

I bit down on the desperate sound that threatened to break free, trembling harder, going hot, then cold, then breaking out into a sweat. There was a thudding ache between my thighs and a tension coiling right down low inside me.

The group of people was moving past us, but I barely paid attention. The entire world was made up of Everett’s blue eyes looking down into mine, the heat of his body radiating into me, and his hand pressing lightly between my thighs, driving me half out of my mind by doing nothing more than just resting there.

‘E…’ I whispered, not even sure what I was asking for. ‘E, please.’

‘What do you want?’ His thumb moved again, and I shuddered helplessly against the wall. ‘Because if it’s to come, then I’m sorry but the answer is no.’

‘But I…’ I was panting and I must have lifted my hands to his chest at some point because my fingers had curled into the white cotton of his shirt, holding on as if I was about to fall down.

‘No,’ he repeated, iron in his deep voice, a hard glint in his eyes. ‘Don’t you dare make this easy for me.’ And then the bastard moved his thumb once more.

I shuddered, white-hot pleasure almost blinding me. This was insane. I’d spent years trying to get off with guys and now, here I was, in a hallway with my best friend’s hand between my thighs and all I could think about was not coming. Because I wanted to do what he said. I wanted to please him.

‘S-Stop touching me then,’ I stammered.

The green in his eyes glittered like sparks of emerald in a churning blue sea. ‘Try harder.’

But his thumb was pressing down and the pleasure was building, and it becoming impossible to resist. Telling me not to come was like telling a starving woman not to fall face first into a chocolate cake.

I couldn’t drag my gaze away from his, couldn’t stop myself from moving restlessly against the wall, every part of me wanting to press against him, relieve the relentless ache that was building higher and higher. ‘I… I…’ I began.

Everett leaned in, his mouth near my ear, his breath warm on my sensitive skin. ‘Naughty, Little. You can’t stop yourself, can you?’ Then he pressed his thumb down firmly on my clit.

A lightning bolt of pure sensation hit me, sizzling down through my head, along my spine and out through my feet, and my mouth opened, a scream of raw ecstasy trying to escape as the climax hit me, ripping me apart.

But Everett turned and put his lips on mine, capturing my scream, silencing it. And his arms came around me, holding me as I burned to the ground where I stood.

CHAPTER FOUR

Everett

I HAD FREYA pressed up against the wall, her entire body shaking, her scream vibrating against my mouth. Dimly, I could hear the people who’d passed us still talking as they made their way down the other end of the corridor—they hadn’t heard a thing. Not that they were important right now.

What was important right now was that I didn’t flip up Freya’s pretty green dress, rip her panties off and sink my cock inside her. Or, alternatively, force her to her knees and order her to suck me off.

I was hard. Seriously fucking hard. And on edge in a way I hadn’t been in years. And I didn’t know what the hell was wrong with me.

Getting Freya off should have been simple, and in the end it had been. She was the most responsive woman I’d ever touched so whatever guys she’d been sleeping with, they must have been the stupidest assholes ever to walk the earth. A few easy questions would have been enough to figure out that she had major performance issues, and those could have been solved easily enough.

Hell, I’d solved them within a couple of minutes. And after that…

My groin ached and the heat of her mouth was insanely distracting. She tasted of the margarita she’d had earlier, sweet, with a bite to it, and something else, something delicious that I wanted more of. The scent of Freya and aroused woman was heady in the air around me, and it was a major turn-on. In fact, everything about this was a major turn-on and it shouldn’t have been.

Giving an orgasm was no problem. But getting hard myself? Almost getting lost in the way her eyes widened and darkened when I told her what to do? When I saw how nervous she was with me? And how turned on I’d made her?

No, I hadn’t expected that. At all. Not a problem in the normal run of things, but this was not the normal run of things. This was Freya, one of my closest friends. The person who knew me best, better even than Ulysses and Damian. And I couldn’t afford to get myself on edge around her.

No, so you’d better take a fucking step back, hadn’t you?

Yeah, that was an issue. She was still trembling and I still had my hand on her pussy, my thumb on her clit. The silky fabric of her dress was thin, and I could feel her heat against my palm. I wanted to keep it there, play with her more, see how far I could push her. Maybe give her another orgasm right here and now. She was so responsive, it wouldn’t be difficult.

Yeah, and what would she think about all the orders you’ve been giving her? What would she think if you told her to suck you off?

A cold feeling trickled like ice water down my back. Dominance games were all well and good in the club. But I didn’t play them outside it. And I definitely wasn’t going to play them with her.

I had some of my dad’s darkness in me, some of his potential for violence, and when I got on edge it showed. Easier to deal with that edge in a club, with a stranger. With someone I wasn’t connected to on the same level as I was connected to Freya. Someone who didn’t matter as much to me.

So. Get. The. Fuck. Away.

It took far more willpower than it should have to lift my head and shove myself back from her. She stood pressed to the wall, her jade-green eyes almost black, her cheeks deeply flushed. Her mouth was all full and red, and I could taste her… Fuck, she was delicious. But this whole thing had been nothing but a mistake.

I expected her to say something light and funny the way she normally did, to normalise everything, but she didn’t. In fact, for the first time in the history of our friendship, she only looked at me and said nothing at all.

You’ve fucked up, friend.

My chest tightened. ‘Are you okay?’ I asked, the words coming out harsher than I wanted them to.

She nodded, but again didn’t say a word.

The silence thickened around us, full of a tension that had never been there before.

Christ, I needed to get out of her vicinity. And fast.

‘The auction is in ten,’ I said shortly. ‘Meet me at the entrance to the museum after.’

I didn’t wait for her to respond. I simply turned and strode back out into the gallery.

It seemed as if a decade had passed out there in the hallway, while back in here everything was the same. The crowds were doing what they’d been doing before I’d pulled Freya outside, and I swear the music—some classical shit—was exactly the same piece that had been playing before.

I couldn’t get my head around how everything here was going on as normal, and yet my entire personal universe felt like it had tilted on its axis.

So you got hard for your friend? Big fucking deal. Handle it.

Yeah, shit, I was turning this into something it shouldn’t be. Making a rookie error in thinking that a simple fucking orgasm would change things.

So, I’d made Freya come and it had been pretty good for her. And I’d gotten hard in the process. So what? Where was the issue? Well, there wasn’t one, not if I didn’t want there to be, and I didn’t want there to be.

I would treat it like I treated sex in general, which was as a release valve that helped me get on with the important shit in my life.

Such as managing this auction.

Shoving away the inappropriate sexual thoughts that were lingering in my head, I made a point of checking on my staff, dotted here and there amongst the knots of people. Then I went over the security plan in my head yet again, concentrating on the details to keep from thinking about how much Freya had liked me standing over her and holding her chin. How nervous she’d been of me, and how that had turned her on, because, oh, yes, it had. And how, in the end, she’d tried to hold off that orgasm just because I’d told her to—

‘Everything in place for the auction?’ Ulysses’ cold voice came from behind me, mercifully derailing my thoughts.

I didn’t look around. Instead, I shoved my hands in my pockets and stared grimly out at the crowd, trying to get my dick under control. ‘Yeah, should be.’

‘Damian’s wondering if the security team is in place.’

I glanced down at my watch to check the time. Right on target. ‘Any minute…now.’

As soon as I said it, the members of my security team in the crowd began to move, gathering people to urge them down to where a podium had been set up for the auction. The secure van containing the jewels from Damian’s collection that were to be auctioned off tonight would be pulling up now too, with more security to keep the jewels safe as they were taken into the museum.

Which reminded me…

I scanned the crowds, checking out where Damian’s date—the sneaky little thief who’d managed to breach my security in Hong Kong—was. But I couldn’t see her.

‘Looking for Morgan?’ Ulysses asked, obviously thinking of other things. ‘She’s dealing with—’

‘No,’ I said curtly, conscious that my temper was showing. ‘I’m looking for Damian’s date.’

Ulysses shrugged, noticing neither my tone nor, apparently, caring very much about Damian’s date. But that was Ulysses all up. He didn’t do people. Patterns and tech and money were his thing, which made it kind of incredible that he’d managed to befriend Damian and me. We’d met online as teenagers, connecting with each other over shitty childhood experiences.

Then Ulysses, one of the most driven men I’d ever met, had had some cryptocurrency success, and he’d roped Damian and me into it, and before we knew it we were the proud owners of a multi-billion-dollar company.

Give or take ten years of hard fucking work, of course, since making money required drive, determination and a certain amount of arrogance. Which we all had. In spades.

I glanced at Ulysses, but he wasn’t looking at me. His gaze was firmly pinned on the pretty little woman with long black hair who was down near the podium, holding a tablet in her hands and directing people. Morgan, Damian’s little sister and Ulysses’ PA.

Interesting. Did Damian know his friend was watching his sister like that? Since Ulysses obviously still had his head attached to his body, I was thinking that probably Damian didn’t.

‘Five minutes,’ Ulysses said, then abruptly strode off in the direction of the podium, the crowds parting around him like the Red Sea before Moses.

‘So,’ another, more feminine voice said hesitantly from behind me. ‘Are you going to tell me what that was all about or am I going to have to guess?’

A heat I definitely didn’t need or want shot through me as I caught a hint of her scent, sweet and feminine and musky.

Freya.

Fuck. I didn’t want to talk to her right now, not when I had to be on deck with this goddamn launch. And definitely not when I was still as hard as a teenage boy looking at Playboy for the first time.

‘The auction is starting.’ I tried to be less curt with her than I had been with Ulysses and failed. ‘We’ll have to continue that later.’

There was a small silence, then she said, ‘Um…was it me? Did I freak you out?’

Something tight shifted in my chest—the memory of her voice, all small and uncertain, telling me that she was nervous because she thought she couldn’t do it. As if not being able to come was somehow her fault and not the clearly fucking awful men she’d been sleeping with.

I might be an asshole, but I didn’t want to be one of those men. I didn’t want to be an asshole to her.

So I turned.

She was standing at my elbow, her eyes dark, her usual sunny smile absent.

You bastard. Did you even think about what walking away so suddenly might mean for her?

Of course I damn well hadn’t. I’d just wanted to get away from her before I did something stupid, like put my hand around her throat and take everything I wanted from her mouth.

Because the truth of the matter was, the problem was her. Just not in the way she thought.

‘No.’ I held her gaze, letting her see if not the truth then as much of it as I could show her. ‘It wasn’t you, I promise.’

An expression I couldn’t read passed over her face and then she nodded, the tightness around her mouth relaxing. But she still didn’t smile. ‘Okay, well, that’s good.’

I could tell she didn’t believe me.

Without thinking, I reached out and took her chin in my hand the way I would have done with any submissive in need of reassurance, holding on firmly and making her look at me.

Surprise flickered through her eyes, then, unexpectedly, all the tension bled out of her, her gaze turning dark as she stared back at me. Responding to my authority.

Holy shit.

My breath caught, my inner dominant waking up, and I said, before I could stop myself, ‘It’s not your job to doubt me, understand?’

‘But—’

I pressed my thumb over the velvety softness of her mouth, silencing her. ‘Quiet,’ I ordered, and her eyes went wide. She didn’t say anything though, and a small electric pulse bolted down my spine at her instinctive obedience. ‘I meant what I said. It wasn’t you. Do you understand? Nod if you do.’

She nodded, making no attempt to pull away from me, only watching me as if she couldn’t drag herself away.

‘Good,’ I murmured, that electricity coiling deep inside me, heating me up. ‘We’ll have to talk about this later, because right now I have an auction to manage.’

She blinked and I suddenly wanted to kiss her again, nip that full bottom lip, make her jump. I wanted to make her wary of me, so she wouldn’t see me as the safe friend I’d always been to her…

Except no. What the fuck was I thinking? I wasn’t going to put that shit on her. We were friends and giving her an orgasm didn’t change that, no matter how hard I’d got in the process.

Letting her chin go, I turned away so I didn’t have to see the slightly glazed expression on her face. ‘Get yourself another drink,’ I said. ‘I’ll come find you after the auction’s over.’

I left her to it, forcing her out of my mind and whatever the hell I was going to say to her later, concentrating my attention instead on the whole reason for the party in the first place: the launch of the Black and White Foundation.

This was important to me for a number of reasons, but mainly because the foundation was to help disadvantaged kids, and I’d once been one of those kids. My mom died when I was very little and my dad wasn’t able to hold down a job, since he preferred drinking and knocking the shit out of people to working. So we were poor. And when you’re poor the opportunities for changing your situation are few and far between. I wanted to change that for the kids affected by poverty. I wanted them to have opportunities, a chance to better their lives and find a way to get out of the poverty trap, and that’s what I hoped the foundation would achieve.

Good thing, then, that the auction turned out to be a massive success. The funds we managed to raise were enough to give the Black and White Foundation a great start. And I was expecting both Damian and Ulysses to be pleased by this, but Ulysses seemed preoccupied and Damian was drinking and smiling like he didn’t give a shit about anything. Except I knew he did because he kept scanning the crowd, looking for someone. I suspected it was for his date, but when I asked him where she was he said she’d gone home with a headache. Clearly it hadn’t been her he was looking for, in that case, but I didn’t press him.

I was a little preoccupied myself. Mainly with Freya.

The whole rest of the evening my attention was consumed with her, aware of her in a way I’d never been before. And not in the way a friend would be, that was for fucking sure. I kept glancing around to see where she was and who she was talking with, her presence like an itch I couldn’t scratch.

My brain kept going back over that episode in the hallway, replaying the way she’d looked at me, the heat of her pussy against my palm and the taste of her mouth as she’d screamed out her climax. And then, out in the gallery, the warmth of her skin as I’d taken her chin in my hand, the way her eyes had darkened as I’d told her to be quiet…

Yeah, I did not need to be thinking about any of that. At all.

Yet it was damn difficult not to when every time I looked up she seemed to be almost…glowing. Because there was no other word for it. Her skin was luminous, a pretty flush to her cheeks, and her eyes had gone as brilliant as the emeralds in one of Damian’s pieces. She looked fucking gorgeous, radiating heat and sex appeal, giving people that warm, generous smile of hers.

She was talking to some tool now who was looking at her with obvious interest, and who could blame him when she was glowing like that? No doubt from the effects of the orgasm, since I was pretty sure that was why she was looking so damn sparkly and happy.

The orgasm I’d given her. Me, not the asshole who was talking to her right now.

I’d never been possessive my entire life, certainly not of a person, not after the way my bastard of a father had treated people. And I’d never felt anything like that for Freya. Protective, yes. Wanting to smash some fool in the face for daring to talk to her? No.

Except that was what I wanted to do right now. I wanted to stride over there and get up in his grille and tell him to fuck off home and leave Freya alone.

I was good at controlling myself. My military training had helped keep those darker urges in check, as did driving myself hard at work, along with the occasional club visit. So there should be no reason for that possessive urge to rise up inside me, almost choking me. No reason at all.

But that didn’t stop the fact that it was happening, and if I wasn’t careful I was going to go over there and make a complete dick of myself.

It was like that orgasm had tripped a switch inside me and I was damned if I knew how to turn it off.

I ignored the urge as long as possible and then, when it started to distract me more than was safe, I went and found Morgan and asked her to keep Freya company for me. Morgan gave me a suspicious look, but I didn’t explain and luckily she didn’t ask any further questions, walking off muttering something about ‘dumb alpha males’. And next time I looked up, the asshole was gone and Morgan was chatting to Freya instead.

Better. Much better.

The auction finished late and there was a definite high energy in the gallery afterwards; people had obviously enjoyed themselves, many of them appreciating the excitement of watching expensive jewels going for outrageous sums of money. Especially since it was for charity, which put the stamp of virtue on everything.

I didn’t want to stay and socialise—like Ulysses, I hated small talk with a passion—so I left Damian in charge of wrapping things up since he seemed determined to distract himself from whatever was bothering him, and went to find Freya. She was staying in my suite in the Shangri-La in the Shard and she’d probably want to catch a ride back with me.

Weren’t you going to go to a club? Find yourself a bratty sub to punish?

Yeah, I’d been going to do that, sure. But that would be to admit that I couldn’t handle myself. That I couldn’t flick off that switch. And I had to. Because there was no way anything else was going to happen with Freya, no fucking way.

My temper was touchy by the time I found her waiting for me near the gallery exit, and it was not helped by the fact that the asshole who’d been talking to her earlier was talking to her again. And that she was smiling up at him as if he was the best thing she’d seen all week.

I tried to lock my baser instincts down hard, but when she spotted me coming towards her she flushed. Beautifully. And the possessive urge I’d been trying to ignore all fucking night rushed to the surface. Because it didn’t take a genius to figure out why she’d blushed.

Me. And the orgasm I’d given her.

That guy was still in her face and I wasn’t in any mood to be polite when I got to them. I slipped an arm around her waist and pulled her firmly against me. ‘Ready to go?’ I asked, giving the guy trying to chat her up a ‘What the fuck are you looking at?’ glance. ‘Limo’s out front.’

She frowned down at my arm. ‘Brian and I were just talking about—’

‘It’s not going to wait,’ I interrupted, knowing I was acting like an asshole, yet apparently unable to stop myself. ‘We have to go now.’

The guy she was talking to took one look at me, then gave her a weak-looking smile before sidling away. A wise decision on his part.

‘Excuse me?’ Freya demanded, turning and pushing my arm away from her. ‘What the hell is going on, E?’

I only just stopped myself from reaching for her. ‘What the hell is what going on?’

‘What you did just then. With Brian.’

‘I don’t give a fuck about Brian.’ My temper pulled at the leash I’d put on it, which was a bad sign, a very bad sign. I turned towards the exit before she could see how pissed off I was. ‘Come on, it’s time to go.’

And I strode out before she could say a word.

CHAPTER FIVE

Freya

EVERETT’S LIMO WAS waiting at the kerb and I followed him into it, more than a little annoyed—not to mention weirded out—by his strange behaviour.

Then again, I’d been weirded out all evening, so I guess that wasn’t anything new.

That moment with Everett out in the hallway had changed everything I’d thought about myself and I honestly had no idea how to handle it.

Sure, I’d often wondered whether it was the guys I’d been with who were the issue rather than me, especially when I could come perfectly well on my own. Yet those doubts about myself, about my femininity, had lingered. One guy had even told me straight up that the problem must be me, since he’d never had an issue getting a woman to come before. And even though I’d shrugged it off the comment had somehow stuck in my heart, along with all the other criticisms that my aunt had levelled at me. More proof that I didn’t measure up in some vital way.

But…it wasn’t me that was the problem after all, was it? Not when all Everett had had to do was touch me a couple of times to make me come in seconds flat.

I really didn’t know what to think about that. What was clear was that apparently, with Everett, I had no problem getting turned on and no problem coming in a public place, simply with him touching me through my dress.

In the hazy aftermath, all I’d been able to do was lean against the wall, trying to find the power of speech since it appeared to have vanished along with my thinking processes. And when Everett strode away back to the gallery I hadn’t stopped him, needing a couple of moments to get myself together again.

But then, as soon as I went back into the gallery, I’d felt all strange. Kind of exposed and a bit vulnerable. And I’d had half a thought that perhaps I’d done something to make Everett walk away from me, so I’d gone in search of him, wanting to know straight up if it was me.

Except he’d told me it wasn’t. And when I’d expressed my doubts, he’d taken my chin in his hand and he’d looked at me, pinning me with the same stare as he’d used out in the hallway. As if he could read every thought in my head, see all my niggling self-doubts. And then those doubts had fallen silent, everything in me going quiet and still.

I’d no idea why that had happened. No idea why I hadn’t pulled away, offended at him being a bossy, arrogant bastard. But offended had been the last thing I was. He’d told me I wasn’t the problem and when he looked at me like that I believed him. Completely.

Then he’d gone and spoiled it all by acting like a possessive dickhead in front of Brian, the guy I’d been talking to just before.

Everett didn’t look at me as I settled into the soft black leather of the seat, only muttered something about the hotel to the driver before subsiding back into silence.

But it wasn’t a comfortable silence. Even though his hands were in his pockets, his long legs were stretched out in front of him and he looked like he was relaxed, there was tension in every line of his big body.

He was angry about something, I could tell, but I had no idea what it could be about. He’d told me I wasn’t the problem, but if it wasn’t me then what the hell was it? The auction? Brian? But no, surely not that. He’d never had issues with any guys I’d talked to before, so why would it be a problem now?

It was all very strange because Everett was normally a very level kind of guy. He kept his emotions buried deep—hell, sometimes it was difficult to tell whether he even had them since he only rarely let them show. And I knew why that was. His father was a grade-A asshole who spent most of his time taking out his frustrations on Everett and his mom, and so Everett had spent most of his time trying to do the opposite.

Sometimes I wanted to tell him that he didn’t need to try so hard because he’d never be like his father in a million years, but since conversations like that always ended up rebounding on me and my family issues I tended to steer clear of them.

Though we were going to have to have some kind of discussion, that was clear. Especially after what had happened out in the corridor.

Outside, the lights of London slid past the windows of the limo while inside the silence deepened.

Everett made no attempt to break it, sitting silent and tense until I eventually lost patience. ‘Talk to me, E. What’s going on? Why were you being such a tool back there?’

‘No reason.’ The words settled into the quiet like hard, flat stones thrown into a pond. ‘Nothing to do with you.’

‘I didn’t say anything about me.’ I frowned. ‘Or were you lying when you said it wasn’t before?’

His head turned, his gaze a brilliant slice of sharp blue. ‘No.’

He didn’t need to elaborate. The flat authority in the word told me all I needed to know: of course he wasn’t lying. But he wasn’t telling me everything either.

‘Look,’ I said, trying to be reasonable. ‘You’re not the world’s politest guy, but you’re generally not rude. And you don’t tend to look at people like you want to kill them. So I’m guessing there’s a reason you were such an a-hole to Brian. Unless you are actually an a-hole and sorry, E, but you’re not.’

The sharp blue of his eyes got even sharper, but he didn’t say anything. Then he turned his attention back to the seat in front of him, a muscle twitching in his hard jaw.

Oh, yeah, he’d gone from stern Viking to pissed off Viking and I didn’t know why. What the hell had set him off?

So I waited. Because sometimes with Everett if you waited he’d spit out what had got him riled.

‘It’s fine,’ he said eventually, his voice deep and vaguely gritty, and I could almost see the effort of will it took for him to ease the rigid line of his jaw. ‘I’ve just got a few things on my mind.’

‘What things?’ I raised an eyebrow. ‘Anything I can help with?’

‘No.’

‘E, come on. You’ve never been this strange with me before.’ I paused, knowing I was going to have to say it. ‘Is it the orgasm thing? Because maybe I shouldn’t have asked—’

‘It’s not that.’ He shifted slightly in his seat, making me very aware of the fact that his muscular thigh was right next to mine, and that I only needed to reach out and I’d be able to put my hand on it. I’d be able to feel how hot he was and how hard.

My mouth dried as a pulse of heat went through me and I was suddenly very glad he wasn’t looking at me because it probably would have shown on my face.

Hell, what was I thinking? I hadn’t considered what would happen after my ‘Give me an orgasm’ request. Only that he either would or wouldn’t give me one and then we’d go on our merry way, happily being friends till the end of time.

And if it got a little complicated, then it wouldn’t be anything we couldn’t sort out ourselves. Because yeah, we were friends and nothing was more important to me than that.

Except this had already become more complicated than I’d expected. I hadn’t thought he’d have this effect on me. I hadn’t thought he’d get weird with me either.

You didn’t really think about him at all, did you?

Yet another wave of heat washed through me, though this time it had more to do with shame than desire. Because no, I hadn’t thought about him and how he’d handle this. Not one single iota.

Good going, Johnson.

‘I’m sorry,’ I blurted out before I could think better of it. ‘I didn’t think about what this might mean for you. And it’s obviously weird and you’re probably regretting—’

Everett’s hand shot out suddenly, his fingers gripping my chin again. Then he turned my face towards him and closed the gap between us, stopping anything I’d been going to say with his mouth.

This kiss wasn’t anything like the one he’d given me in the corridor, where he’d silenced my scream of release. That had been a simple stopgap measure to prevent me from being heard. But this…this was different.

This kiss was deliberate, intent. And this time he was kissing me because he wanted to.

It was so unexpected that all I could do was sit there in shock. Then his hand slipped to the back of my neck and he gripped me tight, his tongue pushing into my mouth, exploring, demanding. It was so freaking hot I couldn’t breathe.

The kinds of kisses I’d had from guys before had either been timid and hesitant or straight-up aggressive, without any finesse or technique, all clashing teeth and wet, probing tongue.

Everett’s kiss had as much in common with those kisses as a crappy sedan with a high performance super car. He took my mouth with a focused, highly controlled aggression, and yet with a delicacy that left me trembling. There were no clashing teeth, no accidental biting of tongues. No awkwardness at all.

He kissed me as if he never expected anything but for me to give him everything he wanted, and I found myself doing exactly that. Opening my mouth to him, letting the kiss deepen, get hotter, wetter. I moaned softly, unable to help myself because this was the kind of kiss I hadn’t known I’d wanted. Where I wasn’t worried about whether I should be more demanding or more hesitant. About whether I might taste strange or whether they wanted me to take the lead, or perhaps I should let them take it instead. Whether the way I kissed wasn’t quite right and maybe they wouldn’t like it.

I didn’t worry about any of that because Everett didn’t let me. He took charge of the kiss completely, leaving me with no other choice but to respond to him.

And I did, whimpering as the kiss got even deeper, hotter. Harder.

His hand on the back of my neck held me in place so I couldn’t have pulled away even if I’d wanted to. But I didn’t want to. I wanted to stay right there, kissing him for ever, the taste of him like coffee and dark chocolate and all the things I particularly loved rolled into one.

Shit, if I’d known how well Everett could kiss I wouldn’t have bothered with anyone else.

Then, just as I was reaching out to him to pull him closer, he let me go.

My heartbeat roared in my ears and my mouth felt swollen and achingly sensitive. There was a pulse between my thighs, heat in my blood. I couldn’t seem to catch my breath.

He stared at me the way he’d stared at me back in the gallery, intent, focused, and even though he’d taken his hand off the back of my neck I couldn’t seem to move. There was so much power in that look, so much authority. I was hypnotised by it.

‘You want to know why I’m in such a pissy mood?’ His voice was deep and rough. ‘It’s because of this.’ He reached for my hand and, before I had a chance to move, he pulled it towards him, bringing it over his fly and pressing my palm down against the zipper.

I inhaled sharply, shocked. Because I could feel his cock through the wool and he was hard. Very, very hard.

Holy crap. Holy freaking crap. Was that what kissing me had done to him? Or was he kissing me because he was hard?

‘No,’ he said, the Texas drawl he’d almost lost suddenly sounding very pronounced as he lifted the thought right out of my head. ‘I’ve been hard all fucking night and it’s because of you. Because of you coming all over my hand.’

I could feel my cheeks go bright red as heat poured through me, and I stared at him like a complete idiot. I had not expected him to get turned on by what we’d done together. It might have been naive of me, but I hadn’t.

No, because you didn’t think of him at all, remember?

That was true. But…this was only a hard-on and a hard-on wasn’t feelings. He was a guy. They got erections at the touch of a stiff breeze, so it might not be me. It might just have been a very natural physical reaction to how he’d touched me.

I blinked, the heat of his hard-on soaking through the wool of his pants and into my palm. ‘Oh,’ I said stupidly. ‘Uh, I was not expecting that.’

‘Didn’t think you were.’ He closed his fingers around my wrist. ‘You’d better stop touching me now.’

But I didn’t want to, because it didn’t seem right. I’d wanted something from him and he’d given it to me, and now it seemed like he wanted something from me and it was only right that I should give it back. Especially when I hadn’t thought of how this would affect him, not once.

Nothing at all to do with how badly you want to keep touching him.

And I did. The feel of him beneath his zipper was incredible. He was long and thick and…oh, yeah, very large.

My heartbeat accelerated and I had to clear my throat before I could speak. ‘Or I could keep on touching you,’ I said huskily, meeting his gaze. ‘Seems fair, right?’

CHAPTER SIX

Everett

I SHOULDN’T HAVE HESITATED. I should simply have taken her hand off me and told her no, that this wasn’t a quid pro quo and she didn’t owe me anything.

But I didn’t want to. What I wanted was exactly what she’d suggested: her touching me. My hand on the back of her neck, pushing her head down so she had to take my cock in her mouth. Winding her plait around my wrist and pulling it tight so I could direct her. Telling her what to do. How hard to suck. And then swallowing every bit of my come.

Poor Little. She was probably thinking of a short, discreet hand job, not that. She had no fucking idea.

‘No,’ I growled, tightening my grip on her wrist.

She gave me a small grin and waggled her eyebrows. ‘Oh, come on, surely one good orgasm deserves another?’

Really, she was so cute and so very sweet, and the last thing I wanted was to unleash myself on her in full-on Dom mode. I guess I could have said yes and gone vanilla, but I had a feeling I’d only end up even more pissed off than I was already.

She’d responded to me back in the gallery, responded to my authority whether she knew what she was doing or not, and the Dom in me was now awake. And it didn’t want her any other way.

Fuck, I shouldn’t have kissed her. Shouldn’t have shown her what she was doing to me, but I hated not being straight with her. That had never been the kind of friendship we’d had and I didn’t want to start lying to her now.

I didn’t want to tell her about the possessiveness, but I could tell her the main reason for my pissy mood and that was the fucking hard-on for her that wouldn’t leave me alone.

Unfortunately, though, that hadn’t cleared things up between us. No, it had only made it worse.

‘You don’t owe me anything.’ My bad temper prowled through my voice though I tried to keep it locked down. ‘I’m not keeping score.’

‘I know, but—’

‘No.’ I took her hand off me.

She looked stung. ‘I’m sorry. I’m not trying to push you or anything. I just thought you might want…you know.’

The note of hurt in the words was a direct hit straight to the centre of my chest. Shit. I ground my teeth, the slight pressure of her hand lingering, making me very aware that I was still hard and that this conversation was not helping.

In fact, all it was doing was making me think this conversation needed to end and I knew just how to end it. By grabbing her again, taking away her hurt and giving her something else in its place, something much more pleasurable.

Except that wasn’t going to happen.

‘I know you’re not.’ I tried to moderate my tone and failed. ‘But the answer is still no.’

‘Oh, okay, well, fine.’ She gave a negligent shrug and looked away abruptly. ‘It’s no big deal. Just an orgasm.’

Yeah, and that’s what you thought right at the beginning. No different from her fixing your car, right?

That was true. But I’d based that entirely on the fact that I’d never seen her as anything more than a friend, and I’d seen no reason for that to change. Yet it had changed. I was seeing her in other ways now, ways that I shouldn’t be, that would make things difficult, if not cause irreparable harm.

I wasn’t a man she could give casual orgasms to because there was nothing casual about the hard-on in my pants, or about all the things I was starting to want to do to her.

I glanced over at her.

She had her head turned away, looking out the window, and she’d folded her arms across her chest. The fat red plait she habitually wore her hair in was lying over one shoulder, curving around one full breast and nearly reaching her waist. The colour looked intense next to the green of her dress and the pale expanse of her skin. Fucking beautiful. But her jaw was tight and her shoulders were hunched and she was radiating hurt.

No big deal? Who was she kidding? Who were we both kidding? Of course this was a big deal. The entire situation was a massive fucking deal, because essentially I’d just rejected her.

I wanted to tell her it wasn’t personal, but that would be a lie. It was very, very personal.

‘Little,’ I began, wanting to say something to make it better, but what I had no idea.

‘I told you, it’s fine,’ she said before I could finish, still keeping her gaze averted. ‘You don’t have to say anything.’

‘It’s not fine, though.’ I didn’t bother to make it a question since it was pretty clear it wasn’t fine.

There was a silence and I thought she wasn’t going to say anything more. Then she turned and looked at me, challenge in her green eyes. ‘I have one question and then I don’t want to talk about it ever again. What if I was someone else? Would you let me then?’

Jesus Christ. What could I say that wouldn’t hurt her any more than she was already hurt? Because the answer was ‘Yes, I would’.

‘Little,’ I repeated.

But it was too late. She knew what my answer was already and another flash of pain crossed her face. ‘Is it because I’m your friend? Am I not good enough? Not experienced enough…what?’

You really thought she wouldn’t think any of this? You know what her upbringing was like. How her aunt treated her.

I did know. And of course she’d think that the problem was her because for all that she acted like she was fine with who she was, she really wasn’t. Not deep down.

I couldn’t bear that. I just couldn’t fucking stand it.

I reached out, even though I knew I shouldn’t, and I closed my fingers around the base of her plait and I pulled her in towards me.

Her breath caught and her eyes went wide but she didn’t resist, staring at me as though she’d never seen anything like me before in her entire life.

‘The problem isn’t you,’ I said, my voice husky and edged with temper and a heat I couldn’t disguise. ‘The problem is me and what I want.’

Her gaze was inches from mine and I’d never noticed how the jewel colour of her eyes was threaded through with gold. It was the most beautiful goddamn thing I’d ever seen. She smelled good too, of that light feminine musk that made my cock even harder, and she was warm.

Goddammit, I had no idea what I was doing.

And yet I didn’t let her go.

‘What do you want?’ she asked.

‘Things that I shouldn’t be asking you for.’

‘Like…what?’ She was breathing very fast. ‘Tell me.’

I didn’t want to. But it was too late now.

‘I want to be in charge, Little. I want to tell you what to do. I want to make you take my cock in your mouth, then wrap that plait of yours around my wrist and use it as a pair of reins. Pulling on it when you suck too hard or not hard enough. Using it to punish you.’ I kept my voice flat and I didn’t look away, letting her see the dark thing that lived in the core of me. ‘And then, once you’d done that to my satisfaction, I’d fuck you from behind. Hard.’

Freya stared at me wide-eyed, shock darkening her brilliant green gaze.

Did you expect anything different? She thinks you’re a good guy and you’re not and you never have been.

Of course I hadn’t expected anything different, so why disappointment should collect so painfully inside me I had no idea.

I let her go and instantly she sat back, as if she wanted to put as much distance between us as she could. I pretended I hadn’t noticed and that it didn’t make the disappointment inside me sharper.

‘Um…’ She blinked. ‘Well, okay. That’s unexpected.’

‘Yeah,’ I said, embracing my simmering anger because that was easier than dealing with the disappointment. ‘So now you know why I said no.’

She glanced away, biting her bottom lip, which didn’t fucking help matters, and then glanced back. ‘So, what? You like to be in charge. That’s not…unheard of. And hey, given the kind of guy you are, I’d be surprised if you didn’t like that kind of thing.’

‘You did hear what I said, didn’t you?’

This time her gaze didn’t even flicker. ‘Of course I did. I’m just trying to figure out why you didn’t want to tell me that.’

‘Because you’re my fucking friend, Freya.’ I held myself rigidly in my seat, fighting the hot lick of anger, trying to lock it down. ‘And I don’t want to put all that shit on you.’

‘Why not?’ She said it like there wasn’t a problem, like there was nothing for her to be frightened of.

So what is the problem? You’re the one who’s making it a big deal.

I could feel a muscle flick in my jaw, tension crawling through me. I wasn’t ashamed of my dominant urges. I accepted them. But they were a side of me that I didn’t want her to see. I wanted to protect her, that was all. I wanted to preserve the image she had of me as a good guy, because when times got tough it was her vision of me that grounded me.

I might not ever be that man, but at least it gave me something to aim at.

‘Because fear is part of it,’ I said, giving her another little bit of the truth, but not the whole. ‘I like it when a woman is afraid of me and yet turned on too. And I also like it when she’s nervous.’

She frowned slightly. ‘So you must have really liked it when I was nervous in that hallway, right?’

‘Yes.’ I bit the word out, not sure why I was letting her have this discussion with me when I should have said I didn’t want to talk about it.

‘I don’t get why that’s a problem.’ Her frown deepened. ‘Or the orders part. Or any of it really. So you’re a bit kinky. That’s okay. Lots of people are.’

‘I know it’s okay,’ I snapped. ‘But the big deal is when you want to do all of that to your best friend and she has no fucking idea what it’s all about, because she’s never tried it.’

She gave me a searching look. ‘Is that the only thing that’s bothering you? That I might not be into it?’

It was not the only thing that was bothering me but I’d already turned this into a much bigger issue than it needed to be, so there was no need to make it any worse.

‘Yes,’ I said flatly.

‘Well, let’s try it, then.’ She said it like that was the most logical, reasonable thing in the world. ‘I mean, why not? I might be into it…you never know.’

I just stared at her. ‘This is not a causal thing, Freya.’ I used her name so she understood the gravity of the situation. ‘At least not with me. It’s fine to have that attitude within the context of a club, where there are rules, but this is not a club situation and we’re not strangers. We’re friends. And no, a casual orgasm won’t change things, but this could. And that’s not even considering how I’ve actually never wanted to do this with you before.’

‘But you do now?’

‘What do you think?’

She gave me a quizzical look. ‘Why now? Was it the orgasm you gave me? Or have you not had sex in a while? Or was it—’

‘I’m not talking about that right now. I need you to know that this could completely fuck things up between us.’

She shrugged. ‘Sure. But only if we let it.’

Frustration coiled inside me. ‘Why are you so hell-bent on doing this? If it’s just a case of one orgasm deserving another, then surely it doesn’t matter to you whether I say yes to it or not?’

Colour flooded through her face then, making her eyes look even greener than they were already. ‘Well, I guess I lied then. I guess it does matter.’

‘Why?’ I demanded, wondering why the hell she was blushing.

She swallowed, her throat moving, drawing my attention to her frantically beating pulse. ‘Because it’s not a case of me owing you anything or feeling like I do. It’s a case of me wanting to touch you because I want to. Because I… I want you, E.’

I went very still. Very, very still. ‘You want me?’

‘Yes.’ Her chin lifted slightly even as her blush deepened. ‘I’ve wanted you for years.’

CHAPTER SEVEN

Freya

EVERETT’S GAZE WAS like a laser boring into me, a bright, intense blue, and I wanted to look away. But I made myself hold it because he’d told me something about himself that he’d obviously found difficult, which meant I needed to do the same. Even though telling him I’d wanted him for years wasn’t something I actually wanted to admit to.

‘Years?’ The word sounded very neutral. Too neutral. ‘How many are we talking here?’

‘Uh…since I was about sixteen.’ My cheeks felt like they were on fire.

He looked at me searchingly. ‘You never said anything. Not one damn word.’

‘No, I didn’t.’ Because I was a big, garish redhead in a family of small blondes. Who had to tie her hair back in family photographs and stand in the background because the colour drew attention and so did her height. Who was too tall for hand-me-downs so had to put up with whatever cheap clothing her aunt could get her. Who was supposed to be part of the family and yet never felt like she was.

My aunt had pointed out all my flaws from an early age, so why would a guy as handsome and smart and driven as Everett want someone like me?

‘Why not?’ he asked.

I wasn’t going to tell him all of that, no way. It was too sad for words.

Instead, I said, ‘You never gave any sign you were interested in me that way, so I decided it was better not to say anything. You were more important as a friend to me.’

He said nothing to that, only studied me as if I were a stranger he’d only just met, while all the secret little hopes that he’d maybe had a crush on me the way I’d had on him died stillborn. It was obvious he hadn’t. And I tried to tell myself I wasn’t disappointed.

But he wants you now though, remember?

Yeah, he did. And that was something. Though it probably wasn’t me so much as the fact that I just happened to be the last woman he’d had a sexual encounter with. Still, it would have been nice if he’d said something, but he didn’t. He just kept on looking at me in that unnerving way.

‘So, where does that leave us?’ I asked when I couldn’t bear the silence any more.

He tilted his head, the light coming through the windows of the limo highlighting the incredible bone structure of his face. Strong jaw, broken nose and deep set, shadowed eyes. The most beautifully shaped mouth…

‘What exactly are you asking for, Little?’

The question was casual-sounding but I didn’t make the mistake of thinking it was casual in the slightest.

I swallowed, my heart beating faster. ‘You seemed like you wanted something from me and, like I said, I can provide it. I want to provide it.’

‘No, you’re going to have to be more specific than that.’ He shifted minutely in his seat and, just like that, I was even more painfully aware of him than I had been before. Of the sheer size of him, taking up all the space in the limo, not to mention most of the air. ‘Is it just an orgasm you’re promising or do you want more?’

‘What more?’ I asked, conscious that my voice had gone husky.

‘Sex.’

The word fell into the electric silence between us like a stone thrown at a glasshouse, smashing through the panes and spraying shards everywhere.

Sex. With Everett.

It’s nothing you haven’t thought about before. A lot.

I didn’t think it was possible for my cheeks to get any redder, but apparently it was. I wanted to look away from his relentless predator’s gaze, but I didn’t want to be a coward. I’d been the one to push him, to get him to tell me his secrets; I couldn’t be reluctant to bear the consequences of those secrets now.

Those secrets excite you, face it.

Maybe they did. And maybe I wanted to find out more about them. More about him, because this was a side to my old friend that I’d never guessed at. And yes, it excited me.

‘Sure,’ I said as levelly as I could. ‘Why not?’

Sparks of green glittered in his eyes. ‘Say it. Give me the words. So there are no misunderstandings.’

I swallowed yet again, trying to moisten my dry mouth. ‘Yes. I want to have sex with you.’

Another silence, so full of unbearable tension that it felt like I’d gone deaf, the only sound my frantically beating heart.

Then, strangely, it was Everett whose gaze flickered and who glanced away from me. ‘Fuck, Little…’

This time it was me who reached out, placing a finger on his mouth before I was fully conscious of what I was doing. ‘Everett.’ I used his name to get his attention. ‘I want you. I want this.’ His lips against my finger were hot and unexpectedly soft, and I felt them tighten as he tried to speak so I pressed a touch harder. ‘It’s my fault that I made this happen between us, but I can’t change what happened out in the corridor. And I don’t want to either. I gave you my truth. Why don’t you show me yours?’

He was silent another long minute, his eyes glittering in the light as they searched my face. What he was looking for I had no idea, though he must have found an answer somewhere because he reached up suddenly and wrapped his fingers around my wrist, pulling my finger away.

But he didn’t let me go. Instead he brought my palm to his mouth and kissed it, watching me all the while. I shivered.

Then he bit the soft flesh at the base of my thumb very, very lightly.

It didn’t hurt yet electricity pulsed through me, all the way down my spine to coil in a tight, burning knot between my thighs.

And everything changed in a split-second.

It wasn’t my friend sitting opposite me but someone else. A tall, powerful, devastatingly sexy stranger, with definite hunger in his eyes. With an intense, forceful presence, a dominance that made me want to bow my head to him.

He wasn’t so much Viking now as an emperor.

The energy between us changed too; it was very clear that the control he said he wanted he’d simply taken. And that I was okay with it. More than okay with it.

It felt like I’d handed him something precious and he’d closed it in one of those big hands. I knew it would be safe with him. Knew it down to the depths of my soul.

He lowered my hand but he didn’t let it go, threading his fingers through mine. ‘Here’s how it’s going to work,’ he said calmly as if now we were in this space there would be no more doubts and no more indecision. ‘You will have a safe word. You know what that is?’

‘Yes,’ I said huskily. ‘I’ve heard a little about…that stuff.’ A very little. Like Fifty Shades little.

‘Whatever you’ve heard or read, nothing will be the same as the reality. Just remember that, okay? So your word will be red. You can say that and it will stop everything.’ He paused, the look he was giving me sharpening. ‘You trust me that I’ll stop? Because I will. Tell me you understand.’

This was getting very real. Maybe a little too real. What the hell was he going to do to me that I’d need a safe word for? Would there be whips and chains? Gags and gimp suits?

Getting cold feet?

Maybe. But I wasn’t going to change my mind. I’d decided I wanted to do this and there was no going back.

‘I understand,’ I repeated, only sounding slightly shaky.

If he saw my uncertainty he gave no sign. Instead he went on, ‘Good. So you won’t speak unless I give you permission. The only thing you can say without my permission is your safe word. You will also do whatever I ask you to do. I’ll allow some hesitation to start with, but I will expect complete obedience.’

My heart fluttered around in my chest like a bird shut inside a house flying frantically around trying to get out.

I wouldn’t be able to speak. I’d have to do everything he said. Shit, he was really throwing me into the deep end. Was I ready for this?

He was watching me closely, obviously gauging my reaction, then his fingers around mine tightened in reassurance. ‘All I’m going to do is what I told you I’d do just before, okay? Nothing else. You’re new at this and, even though I like to push a sub, I’m not going to do that with you. But if you’re going to trust me, I have to trust you too, understand?’

I opened my mouth to ask him what that meant and then, remembering, shut it again and nodded my head instead.

The look in his eyes flared with obvious pleasure that I’d obeyed his ‘no speaking’ rule and I felt stupidly pleased with myself. ‘Okay,’ he continued, ‘I’m trusting you to tell me if it gets too much for you. I don’t want you trying to be brave or trying to prove a point by not saying your safe word. And I sure as hell don’t want to end up hurting you. So you have to be straight with me. Does that make sense?’

It did, so I nodded.

‘Also, remember this. I’m not going to give you anything I think you won’t be able to handle.’

But how did he know what I could and couldn’t handle? He might be my friend and know me better than anyone else alive, but still.

‘And if I get it wrong,’ he added, obviously knowing exactly what I was thinking, ‘you have the safe word, okay?’

I nodded again.

Everett stared at me a long moment, then he glanced away as the car began to slow. ‘We’re here. Last chance to change your mind.’

But I’d already decided I wasn’t going to. I wanted him. I wanted to see what else there was to him besides him being my friend.

It might change things too much. It might be something you can’t come back from.

No, it wouldn’t be. I was confident that however the sex changed things between us, it wouldn’t be for the worse. We knew each other and we trusted each other and anyway, once we took this step, perhaps we could put all the weirdness behind us and get back to being actual friends again.

So I didn’t move, merely squeezed his hand to let him know I wasn’t going anywhere.

The limo pulled up outside the Shard, its jagged silhouette reaching high into the sky, and Everett got out, holding the door for me with an old-fashioned gallantry that I might have teased him about if the situation had been different. But I wasn’t allowed to speak and I wanted to show him I could do this, so I didn’t say anything, letting him take my hand again as he led me into the building.

It was a super fancy hotel and not my thing at all. I’d tried to tell Everett that I’d stay in a hostel while I was in London, but he wasn’t having a bar of it. He told me that his suite had a free bedroom, so why the hell didn’t I just stay with him? Plus he didn’t want to be worrying about me in a hostel.

I didn’t want him worrying about me either, so I’d swallowed my discomfort about the hotel and told myself that I didn’t care that it was too expensive and too fancy for a plain old mechanic from Texas like me. That it was kind of like a super-overpriced hostel in many ways and, besides, I’d have to suck it up because it made Everett happy.

I did the same now as the doormen pulled open the doors for us and Everett strode in as if he owned the place, tugging me with him. We didn’t have to wait for an elevator and within seconds we were up on the top floor where Everett’s suite was.

The trip in the elevator might have been odd and uncomfortable for me but, because I wasn’t allowed to speak, I couldn’t say anything. And for some reason that helped me just relax into the moment, since there wasn’t much else I could do. Not when Everett didn’t say anything either.

He didn’t say anything when he opened the door to the suite and ushered me inside either, though the nerves that had been sitting in the pit of my stomach since I’d gotten out of the car suddenly tightened, tangling like wet yarn.

The suite was one of the biggest in London apparently, and the views over the city were amazing. Earlier, I’d looked around with amazement at the massive plate glass windows and discreet low furniture upholstered in varying shades of gold and cream, overwhelmed by the understated luxury of the place.

There was a dining table down one end, where Everett had been working that afternoon, his laptop and papers still scattered on the table-top. I stood in the living area as he strolled over to it, taking out his phone and his wallet as he went, and putting both down calmly on the tabletop. Then he turned to me, catching my gaze with his.

He held it as he shrugged his jacket off and put it over one of the chairs, then lifted one hand to the bow tie of his tux and pulled it free, dumping that on the table. Then he undid the top couple of buttons on his shirt, revealing the tanned skin of his throat.

I took a shaky silent breath, pinned by the intensity of his gaze.

He began to undo his cufflinks, the movements slow and measured, and then, once they were off and deposited on the tabletop as well, he began to roll his sleeves up, exposing sinewy forearms and strong wrists.

I’d had no idea that a guy simply taking his jacket off and rolling his sleeves up could be so insanely sexy. But, oh, my God, it was. The lights of the city illuminated him, highlighting the way his shirt pulled across his muscled shoulders and chest, turning his short blond hair silver and shadowing his eyes.

He looked mysterious and powerful. A beautiful stranger. Not the man I’d known for over twenty years. Not my friend.

My skin prickled, my breathing coming faster and harder and, despite my nerves, I could feel an ache beginning between my thighs. It was insistent and normally I’d be trying to hold on to the feeling for all it was worth, trying not to let it escape the way it always seemed to.

Yet this felt different. This felt like it had out in the corridor in the museum, a steadily growing sensation that would overwhelm me rather than the other way around. Something I couldn’t escape from even if I wanted to. Which was a frightening thought, yet also exciting at the same time.

God, what was my brain doing?

‘Seems like you’re overthinking,’ Everett murmured as he finished with his sleeves, strolling casually over to where I was standing. ‘Perhaps you need something to occupy yourself with instead.’

He seemed even taller now and I had no idea how that had happened. Not to mention more muscular. It was almost like I had to tip my head back even further to meet his gaze and, when I did, his height did that strange thing again, making me feel small and dainty next to him.

I wanted to ask him what he meant by me needing something to occupy myself, but then I remembered that I wasn’t allowed to speak and had to catch my breath instead.

His relentless blue gaze turned approving. ‘Good girl. See? You can be quiet when you want to.’

Again, a weird warmth glowed in my chest, something in me liking that I’d pleased him. But then maybe it wasn’t weird. He was my friend and I liked doing things for him.

He’s not your friend now.

No, he wasn’t. Yet the warmth filled my chest all the same and somehow my nerves settled. Perhaps it was good I wasn’t allowed to talk. Not speaking meant I didn’t have to try and think of things to say, to be funny to ease the mood. I could stand here and not say anything, and it would be fine.

One corner of Everett’s mouth curved slightly and I found myself staring at it, fascinated, wondering what on earth was making him smile since he smiled so very rarely.

But he didn’t explain. That fascinating almost-smile played around his mouth, his blue eyes glittering. Then he said, ‘Strip for me, Freya.’

CHAPTER EIGHT

Everett

HER EYES WIDENED in shock then immediately darkened, and for a second there was a moment where I wondered if she’d actually refuse. I wasn’t sure what I would have done if she had, but then it didn’t matter because the moment passed and she was stepping back slightly, reaching behind herself for the zipper of her dress.

I didn’t say anything and I didn’t offer to help. I wanted her to take her clothes off for me of her own free will, unwrapping herself like a present just for me.

She had a bit of difficulty but then the zipper came down and she was shrugging the straps off her shoulders, the green silk sliding down, over her breasts and hips, down her thighs before pooling at her feet.

The lights of the city bathed her body, making her skin look pearlescent and the freckles scattered across it like gold dust.

It wasn’t anything I hadn’t seen before. I had seen her in a bikini after all and she was still wearing a nude bra and a pair of lacy panties in the same colour. This felt different though. Because now that underwear was the only thing between me and her naked body, and soon she would be taking that off too.

My cock ached, hard as a fucking rock, but I’d had a lot of experience in ignoring it and so I had no problem ignoring it now. In fact, nothing was a problem now. All the damn issues and dramas of before seemed to have vanished the moment Freya had looked into my eyes and told me that she wanted me.

Perhaps it had been a stupid decision to agree to this. Perhaps we’d regret it later. But I knew the moment she’d put her finger on my mouth that I was going to do this. That I was going to have her.

The dominant in me wanted her and, even though she had no idea what she was getting herself into, she’d given me her consent. It was something she’d only find out by experiencing anyway, and maybe afterwards she’d change her mind. But we weren’t at that point right now.

We were in the moment and that was exactly where I wanted to be. No future or past. Just me and her. Where I was in charge of her and where I could give us what we both wanted.

Complete control. It was a good feeling. A calm, settled feeling.

We’d both crossed the line and now there was nowhere to go but onward.

‘Nice,’ I said softly, letting my attention linger on her curves and making sure she noticed me look. ‘You’ve got a beautiful body, did you know that?’

A blush washed through her and her lashes swept down, veiling her gaze, though she didn’t move.

She wouldn’t agree and I knew it. She was probably thinking of her aunt and her cousins, and their narrow standards of beauty. How she wasn’t little and blonde and girly like they were. About how she wasn’t supposed to care about that, and yet somehow did.

Silly, Little.

It was time she learned just how good this lovely body of hers could make her feel.

‘Take off the rest,’ I ordered.

She hesitated a second, then began to take her bra off.

‘Slower,’ I murmured. ‘Tease me some.’

Again she flushed, but her movements slowed, the straps of her bra slowly falling, one arm holding the cups to her tits, while the other reached around to unclip it. She gave me a look from underneath her lashes and, whether she’d meant it to be or not, it was insanely sexy.

‘Very nice.’ I let her see how it pleased me. ‘Keep going.’

She glanced away again, but the tightness around her mouth eased as she let the fabric fall away, her bra dropping to the floor.

Beautiful. Sheer fucking perfection. Her breasts were full and round, and perfect for my hand. Her nipples hard and pink, all ready for my mouth.

Oh, yes, I was going to spend a lot of time with those pretty tits of hers.

‘Panties, please,’ I reminded her when it seemed like she’d stopped.

She blinked then pushed her hands into the waistband of her underwear and eased them over her hips, and down her thighs to her ankles. Then she stepped out of them and straightened up, finally and gloriously naked.

My breath caught, my fucking dick aching.

And for a second all I could do was stand there and look at her. Because she was gorgeous. Tall and athletic, and with curves to die for. Pale, silky skin and a pretty nest of bright red curls between her thighs.

Fuck, she was amazing. I’d known she was built like a goddess, but whenever I’d admired her it had always been in a detached, intellectual way. As a friend, not a lover. Tonight, though, it was different. Tonight, I could admire her in a way I never had before, a wholly sexual way.

And I did. As though the embers of attraction had always been there, glowing hot, and all it took was a breath to make them burst into flame.

I gritted my teeth, desire gripping me even tighter than before, and it took me a second to control my breathing, to get myself locked down.

Once I had myself back in hand again, I moved over to her. She stilled, and I could see that she was shaking a little. Which wasn’t a bad thing, because nervousness could make pleasure more intense for some people. Certainly, out in the corridor at the museum, she’d been shaking like a leaf. Just before she’d come all over my hand.

So I let her get nervous of me, let her get wary. Intruding into her physical space and letting her get a feel for how much bigger than her I was. Because the dark part of me loved to intimidate, loved to make someone feel small and vulnerable and exposed.

I watched her as I did so, studying her to make sure arousal was in her eyes alongside the fear and, sure enough, it was there. I hadn’t been mistaken back at the museum. She did like me looming over her physically.

I got even closer so she could feel my heat, and then very slowly I circled her, watching her, letting her get a taste of the predator in me.

She stood very still, her breathing getting faster and more audible in the silence, and her skin was deeply flushed. I could smell the musky scent of her arousal, see the shivers that chased over her skin, goosebumps rising in their wake.

Oh, yeah, she was finding this all very arousing.

You knew she’d like it. You knew she’d be into it.

I hadn’t known, not really. But I did now. Fuck, yes, I did now.

I stopped behind her, very close, and then I reached up and wrapped my fingers around the base of her plait, holding on to it. ‘You like me looming over you, don’t you? You can speak.’

‘I’m not sure—’

I tugged lightly on her plait. ‘Honesty, Little.’

She caught her breath. ‘I…guess I do. Yeah. I like it.’

‘Why?’ Slowly, letting her feel it, I wound the silky mass of her hair around my wrist.

She shuddered. ‘What are you doing?’

‘Answer the question.’

‘W-why do I like it?’ Her breathing had become ragged. ‘Because…because you’re tall. And you make me feel…small.’

I’d already suspected that was the answer, but it pleased me to hear her say it, pleased me that she was being honest, because we’d always been honest with each other.

‘And you want to feel small?’ I leaned in so my breath brushed the shell of her ear, sending another shudder through her. ‘Is that what you like to feel?’

‘I didn’t think I did, but…yes. I suppose I do.’

‘Why is that?’ I tugged on her hair again, hearing her breath catch.

‘I…don’t know. Maybe it makes me feel…’ She faltered. ‘I didn’t think it mattered. I thought I was over it.’

I tightened my grip on her plait, frowning at the note of hurt in her voice, a dark, possessive feeling uncurling inside me because I didn’t like the sound of that, not one fucking bit. ‘Over what?’

‘It doesn’t matter.’

Without warning, I wrapped one arm around her waist and pulled her against me. At the same time, I tugged hard on her plait, jerking her head back against my shoulder so she was looking straight up at me. ‘It matters,’ I said flatly. ‘Tell me.’

She trembled, her naked body warm and pliant, her eyes wide and dark with arousal. ‘Okay, okay. I like it when you make me feel small because it…it makes me feel more like, I don’t know, more kind of f-feminine.’

I should have felt satisfied that I’d been right, but I wasn’t satisfied. I was just fucking pissed off. Because I knew where this had come from. ‘Your fucking aunt, right?’ I demanded, staring down at her, holding her tightly.

‘Don’t be angry with her, E. Please. It’s not her fault that—’

‘It is her fault,’ I said sharply, the anger on Freya’s behalf making me feel a little bit savage. ‘Do you think you’re any less female? Any less of a woman because you’re tall? Because you’re built like a fucking goddess?’

Her mouth opened as she searched my face and I let her see the heat in my eyes. Then I pressed my aching dick against the softness of her ass, my fingers spreading out on her stomach and holding her there. ‘You feel what you’re doing to me? That hard cock is for you. Because of you.’

Colour swept over her skin and her throat worked as she swallowed, staring at me as if she was looking for lies. But there were none. I’d demanded honesty from her and I gave back the same. ‘I like you tall,’ I growled. ‘I like you strong. I like your body exactly the way it is. And you know what else?’ I pulled on her plait tighter, drawing her head back further, exposing her throat. Forcing her to rise on her tiptoes to prevent it from getting painful. ‘I like it because I’m a big man, Little. And you’re built to take me and that’s fucking hot.’

She blinked up at me, a whole raft of emotions flickering over her face, gone so fast I couldn’t read them.

‘Can you?’ I demanded, tightening my grip to make her aware of how I held her and how restrained she was by me. ‘Can you take me, or am I wrong?’

If I’d thought in any depth about how badly I wanted to hear her agree, it might have disturbed me. But I didn’t think about it. I simply held her gaze with mine, letting my authority do the work.

‘No,’ she whispered, her green eyes darkening still further. ‘You’re not wrong.’

A deep satisfaction unwound inside me, the pleasure of knowing I’d got it right, that I’d read her responses correctly. And I liked that she’d trusted me enough to tell me too.

And that trust was her gift to me.

If she only knew the real you…

Yeah, but she didn’t. And she wouldn’t. The only dark part of myself that she’d ever see would be the one I’d show her tonight. The one that would give her the most pleasure. And that was my gift to her. To tap into her deep desires, give her pleasure beyond anything she could imagine for herself. Pleasure she didn’t even realise she was capable of.

God, I wanted to show her that. In fact, I hadn’t realised how much until now, until I had her naked and in my arms, under my control.

‘Good,’ I murmured. ‘In that case let’s take this further.’ Tugging on her hair, I eased her head to one side, exposing her neck. Then I bent and kissed the silky skin just below her ear. ‘Remember what I told you in the car? About how I was going to pull your hair while you sucked me off? And then I was going to fuck you from behind?’

‘Yes,’ she said breathlessly.

‘And you thought it was a joke, didn’t you?’

‘I didn’t—’

‘Well, it’s not,’ I interrupted, then bit her, my teeth grazing the delicate cords at the side of her neck, the taste of her skin both salty and sweet in my mouth. Fucking delicious.

She gasped, trembling, and I nuzzled down the side of her neck to the sensitive place where it met her shoulder. Then I bit her again to prove my point, harder this time. Giving her a hint of pain. Showing her I was serious.

‘Ohhh…’ She exhaled sharply, squirming against me, her soft ass grinding against my hard dick. ‘Yesss…’

I grinned. And because I was an asshole and I loved making her break, I said, ‘Naughty, Little. You weren’t supposed to make a sound.’

She froze. ‘But you said—’

I let go of her hair, then smacked her on the ass at the same time as I gave her another bite, the sound of my palm connecting with her flesh echoing in the room.

She made a half-choked noise, jerking in my grip, and I grabbed her hair again, pulling it back so I could see her face. See what that small taste of punishment had done to her.

There was shock in her eyes, but it was clearing, giving way to heat and…yes, fuck yes, challenge. She didn’t speak and I waited, allowing her a moment to say her word if she needed to. But she remained silent, the deep green spark in her gaze daring me to do my worst.

She was brave to push me like this. But then that was Freya, wasn’t it? She always pushed me. Teasing me, giving me shit, not letting me take myself too seriously. Not letting me brood too long when things got dark. Cutting through my ego when I got too full of myself, being honest with me when other people were too afraid. Grounding me.

I’d had no idea she’d bring all that to what we were doing now, but she was and it made everything that much hotter.

‘That’s what will happen when you disobey,’ I said softly, looking down into her eyes, letting my own challenge meet hers. ‘Punishment. And I like giving out punishment, so by all means feel free to test me.’

She didn’t look away, only bared her teeth, which sent a jolt of electricity crackling down my spine.

Pretty, brave Little.

I tightened my grip on her plait, making sure she couldn’t move. ‘Time to get on your knees.’

She gave me a look that was nothing but fire. Another challenge, if I wasn’t much mistaken. Then, slowly—because I still had a grip on her hair—and not a little gracefully, she went down onto the floor in front of me.

Heat streaked through me and my dick was so hard it hurt, but I took a couple of moments to appreciate the view because she was so fucking fine. She was naked, her skin pale and lovely, the tips of her breasts pink and hard, the curls between her thighs glowing fiery red.

I could see her pulse beating fast in the hollow of her throat and the light coming through from the windows showed how flushed she was.

You don’t get that this is even slightly wrong? Making your best friend kneel before you?

Oh, yeah, it was fucking wrong. And maybe it was that wrongness that made it so damn hot. But I was in it now and there was no going back. Who knew if we could recover our friendship from this? All I could do was keep going, make sure that this was the best damn experience she’d ever had in her entire life.

‘Get my dick out.’ I kept up the tension on her plait, watching the flames leap in her eyes and her jaw get tight.

She didn’t like me ordering her around—or rather she did, but she was just annoyed that she did. And she was going to make me pay for it, I suspected.

Good. Bring it on.

Her hands came to my belt buckle and I could see her fingers trembling slightly as she pulled it open.

‘Not scared?’ I murmured, wanting to push her, get her into challenge mode because it was fucking turning me on in a major way. ‘Too much for you, huh?’

Her gaze flicked to mine, full of emerald flames, letting that speak for her. And I read her answer loud and clear.

Fuck you, asshole. I’ll show you how scared I am.

I grinned as her fingers found the button on my pants, flicking it open, letting her see how much I was enjoying her challenge. Because I had one of my own. ‘You know how I said you were built to take whatever I give you? Well, you’ve been good about not making a sound and I’m impressed. But I’m going to make it harder for you to stay quiet.’

I could see the muscle in her jaw flex as she bit down on whatever it was she was going to say and grabbed the tab of my zipper. I was expecting her to jerk it down roughly, but she didn’t. Instead she held my gaze as she drew it down slowly, so achingly slowly. Her knuckles brushed over my insanely hard cock, sending sparks scattering though me and I was aware, suddenly, that I was hanging by a thread.

And that she’d put me there.

How the hell did she do that?

I had no idea. I didn’t ever let myself get too on edge, not given how dangerous that was for me. Yet my best friend strips naked and brushes her hand over my dick and apparently I was holding onto that edge by the skin of my teeth.

Perhaps I should have pulled away, but it was too late for that and I knew it. I couldn’t have walked away from her if I’d tried.

My breathing was loud and getting louder and Freya’s gaze held a hint of triumph, as if she knew just how close to the boundaries of my control I was, not to mention her role in it, the hot little witch.

She was spreading the material of my pants wide now, fingers brushing over the ridge of the hard-on pressing against my boxers, and clearly very satisfied with what she was doing to me.

I needed to get control of this situation and fast.

I flexed my wrist, pulling her hair tight, and she let out a hissing breath. ‘No playing,’ I said flatly. ‘Get my cock out and suck it like you mean it.’

She was breathing fast, the quick rise and fall of her tits showing me how much. But the flames in her eyes didn’t lessen one iota.

She did as she was told, pulling down the front of my underwear, her fingers reaching inside the cotton, circling my dick, and it was all I could do not to make a sound. Because the feel of her touching me just about blew the back of my head clean off.

I gritted my teeth as she got me out and even though it was stupid given that I was a damn adult and didn’t need any kind of validation, I couldn’t stop the burst of satisfaction that went through me as her eyes widened.

I was not a small man.

Her fingers tightened around me and she squeezed, running her thumb up the length of my shaft and then over the slick head.

A growl rumbled in my chest, pleasure licking straight up my spine.

‘I said no playing,’ I murmured. ‘Which means you just earned yourself another punishment.’

She lifted one red brow, giving me a plain ‘Bring it on’ look.

Oh, she had no fucking idea, did she?

‘Open your mouth,’ I growled.

CHAPTER NINE

Freya

I COULD BARELY hear anything over the sound of my own heartbeat, chills chasing themselves all over my bare skin.

I was on my knees in front of my best friend, his cock was in my hand and I was naked.

He was giving me orders. He was talking about punishments. He was pulling my hair and biting me. He was telling me I was built to take him.

He was so fucking hot I swear I was seconds away from coming and he’d barely touched me.

Holy crap. What was wrong with me?

Everett’s cock was hot and smooth in my hands and a whole lot goddamned bigger than I was expecting. Though why I should have expected otherwise, I had no idea. Not when, as he’d said, he was a big guy anyway.

I’d never thought of that part of a man’s anatomy as beautiful. A little bit comical, a little bit ridiculous, kind of vulnerable maybe. But not beautiful.

Everett’s was though. He felt warm and smooth and hard, like the metal of a car sitting out in the hot sun. Yet not quite like a car because his skin had a velvety feel to it, making it silkily touchable. His dick curved up towards his stomach, giving me a glimpse of the chiselled lines of his six-pack beneath his shirt.

My mouth went even drier than it was already and I wanted to push his shirt up, lick my way up that fantastic abdomen, find his chest and stroke him there too, explore all those beautiful muscles.

‘What did I say?’ His voice was low and rough, scraping over me deliciously. ‘I gave you an order, Freya.’

Oh, yeah. Open my mouth, right?

I took a shaky breath, conscious of his hand holding my plait tightly, sending delicious prickles of pain over my scalp. I’d never thought that someone holding my hair like that would be so hot, but it was. And part of me wanted him to do it harder. The weird part of me that wanted to push him, make him do…more somehow.

I had no idea why I wanted that, but there was something in me that found it exciting to challenge him. That was thrilled with the leap of green in his eyes in response. Because he liked it when I did that too. I knew him well and I knew when he was excited about something.

You. He’s excited about you.

Heat washed over me at the thought, making the pressure between my thighs become even more intense than it was already. But I didn’t want to think about that too much and, anyway, he was getting impatient. And even though part of me didn’t want to do what he said purely to mess with him, I wanted to taste him more.

So I opened my mouth.

He didn’t hesitate, thrusting forward, his dick sliding into my mouth.

I groaned, I couldn’t help it, the salty, masculine taste of him hitting me with a vicious punch of lust. So. Damn. Good.

‘You like that?’ His grip on me tightened, sending more prickles of pain over my scalp. ‘You like having my cock in your mouth?’

I couldn’t speak so I just nodded, panting almost.

‘Look at me, Little.’

I didn’t even think about disobeying him this time and I looked up. He was so fucking tall from this angle. So fucking intimidating too, all power and authority. All blazing blue eyes, a ferocious expression on his handsome face.

I loved it.

‘I like this,’ he said roughly. ‘I like seeing my cock in your mouth. It’s fucking hot.’ He reached down with his other hand and stroked my cheek, his fingers unexpectedly gentle. ‘You know what to do now.’

Oh yes. I did.

Tightening my hold on his cock, I lifted my other hand and gripped one of his powerful thighs for leverage.

Then I proceeded to blow his fucking mind.

At least that was the idea. I’d never had particularly strong feelings about blow jobs one way or the other. Sometimes they were fine. Sometimes they weren’t. But they were, without exception, never hot.

Everett was now the exception.

I sucked him, teased him. I ran my tongue along his cock, licking around the sensitive head, teasing the tip, tasting his raw, masculine flavour. I heard the deep, rough sounds I drew from him, felt the grip in my hair change, become even tighter. Felt the muscles in his thigh get rock-hard. And an intense satisfaction filled me.

Yeah, I could do this to him. I could make my best friend the billionaire groan and shake. I could make him curse. I could push him.

I could give him pleasure.

Me, the big, awkward redhead. The elephant in a family of gazelles.

‘Deeper,’ he ordered roughly. ‘Harder.’

So I opened my mouth wider, took him deeper so he was brushing the back of my throat. I didn’t care. I just wanted more. I wanted to make him come.

Increasing the pressure of my mouth, I sucked harder, glorying in the feel of having him in the palm of my hand. Of giving him as much pleasure as he could handle.

Except it wasn’t only him who was getting off on this. I was too. I could feel the pressure climb inside me, and I couldn’t stop from reaching down between my thighs to touch myself.

‘No.’

The word crashed over me even as he pulled my hair hard, tugging my mouth away from him, leaving me panting and aching, and weirdly empty.

His gaze was fierce as he stared down at me. ‘Did I say you could touch yourself? No, I fucking didn’t. I own that pussy tonight, understand? And it’s mine to touch, not yours.’

I was breathing so fast I thought I was going to pass out, and again, like so much of this, I had no idea why the blatant ownership in his voice was so freaking hot, but it was.

You’ve always been his. You know that.

Maybe I did. Certainly, in this moment I was more Everett’s than I’d ever been anyone else’s. Not the family I’d been brought up with, that was for sure.

I looked up at him, all authority and possession, and the devil in me wanted to keep on pushing, to see how far I could go. Because I loved that look on his face and I wanted more of it.

So I held his gaze and deliberately circled my clit with one finger, sending streaks of white heat through my veins. God, I’d never thought I’d find touching myself while he watched so hot. I’d never thought of touching myself in front of someone else, period. Yet I was doing both now, and it was so erotic I knew I’d come in seconds flat.

He growled, his grip on my hair tightening even more, making me gasp, and then he reached for my hand and pulled it away. Keeping his gaze on mine, he then lifted my fingers to his mouth and sucked them inside.

I shuddered as wet heat surrounded my skin, his tongue licking my fingertips like they were his favourite flavour of popsicle. His teeth grazed my skin and I was lost in the pressure of his mouth as he sucked. And he watched me the whole time, sending the heat level inside me into the stratosphere.

‘Fucking delicious,’ he said after he’d given my fingers a last lick, his voice rough and raw and gritty. ‘I’m going to taste that pussy of yours soon. But you didn’t do as you were told, Little. And you know what that means?’

I was panting, the ache between my thighs so insistent it was all I could do to keep still. Not that I could have moved anyway, not with the grip he had on my hair. It hurt. And yet it felt so good. My heart was going double-time, adrenaline careening through my central nervous system…

Of course I knew what that meant.

Everett gave me a feral grin. ‘My favourite part. Punishment.’

I could have said no. I could have stood up and walked away, and he would have let me go. I didn’t have to kneel here and take it.

But I’d pushed him, knowing full well what it would lead to. Which meant some part of me wanted this. Wanted my best friend to give me whatever punishment he usually meted out to his lovers in the clubs he frequented.

Some part of me wanted to know what it would feel like, because I was sure I was going to like it.

Besides, if I walked away now it would make all this line-crossing we were doing weird and pointless the next morning.

It’s already going to be weird tomorrow.

I didn’t want to think about that, though, so I shoved it away.

Everett was doing that intense searching look again, probably checking to see I was still on board with him, so I lifted my chin and gave him another ‘Bring it on’ look. The green glitter in his blue eyes became pronounced, which thrilled me right down to the bone. Oh, he liked me challenging him. He really liked it.

Without hesitation, he urged me to my feet. I felt a bit unsteady and he must have noticed because, as he walked me over to the couch, his free hand was on my hip, steadying me. Ready to catch me if I fell.

He sat down on the couch, pulling me down with him, arranging me face down over his knees. I was breathing so fast and I could feel his cock, hard and ready, pushing against my stomach.

‘Keep still,’ he ordered. ‘And don’t make a sound. Take your punishment like a good girl.’

He didn’t give me any time to wonder what he was going to do, though, given the way I was lying across him, I kind of knew. And it was weird. I wasn’t exactly a small girl and I would have felt entirely self-conscious with another guy, no matter how dominant.

I didn’t with Everett though, because he was so big. His thighs were muscular and powerful beneath me, easily taking my weight, and when he released my hair finally and put one hand in the small of my back I could feel how large it was in comparison to myself. And I could feel how strong he was as he held me down. Making me feel small. Making me feel delicate.

At least until his other hand came down on my butt. Hard.

I gasped because even though a part of me was expecting it, I didn’t know quite how it was going to feel. And it hurt. Because he wasn’t holding back.

‘Take it,’ he growled, low and rough. Then he gave me three smacks in rapid succession, leaving me barely any time to breathe, barely any time to react. Making my body jerk in helpless response, my skin turning to fire as the pain spread out.

His hand came down a fourth time, but this time he stroked me, his fingers trailing over the curve of my ass, lightly massaging my stinging skin.

And I didn’t know how or why, but like the way he pulled my hair, the pain began to morph into something else, turning pleasure on its head and giving it teeth. So I was squirming in his lap, unable to keep still, wanting more, wanting something I couldn’t name. Something I ached for, something only he could give me.

There were tears in my eyes and I didn’t know why.

‘Please, E,’ I heard myself plead hoarsely. It was breaking his rules but I didn’t care. ‘Please.’

He squeezed one butt cheek gently, making my ass sting and me shudder, pushing everything higher. ‘Are you begging me, Little?’

‘Yes.’ My hands found the couch material and I was gripping it like it was a lifeline, my hips lifting against his massaging hand. ‘Oh, please.’

The heavy, warm hand in the middle of my back pressed down, holding me still again, and I groaned.

Then he slipped his other hand between my trembling thighs, his fingers finding my pussy, stroking through my folds. I squeezed my eyes shut as the pleasure ignited every raw nerve ending, tearing a desperate sound from my throat.

‘Scream for me, Freya,’ he ordered quietly.

And then his finger found my clit and he pressed down.

The orgasm came like a thunder clap, annihilating me, crushing me under the weight of the pleasure it brought with it.

And I opened my mouth and screamed and screamed.

CHAPTER TEN

Everett

SHE WAS SHAKING across my knees, her screams of pleasure echoing around me, and all I could think of was that we had to do this again. We had to.

Because she was so fucking magnificent. Responsive. Obedient, yet challenging. Pushing back when I pushed her, letting me know what she wanted without having to say it. We were so in tune. I could feel the high that dominance gave me hurtling through my veins. It didn’t happen that often—in fact, I couldn’t remember the last time it had—because, for it to hit, perfect trust had to be attained. The sub giving me her trust while she took mine, each of us knowing what the other wanted instinctively. It only happened with people who knew each other very well or, very occasionally, with a stranger who just happened to be compatible.

I’d never found that perfect partner and deliberately so. I loved the high, but I’d never felt comfortable giving myself to someone so completely.

But right now, right here with Freya, somehow I had.

And even though she was the one doing what I told her, even though she’d just taken her punishment like a champion, and then come like a fucking superstar, screaming her pleasure to the heavens, it was me who was on the brink. Me who suddenly wanted, more than anything in the entire goddamn world, to lock her in my bedroom for the next month at least.

What the fuck have you done?

The question broke through my Dom high, the calm and intense focus draining away, and I was suddenly aware that my breathing was way too fast, my jaw aching. My dick was pressed to the softness of her stomach and I was on a knife-edge.

I wanted to fuck her so badly I couldn’t speak.

She shuddered across my legs, her beautiful body trembling with the force of her climax, and her ass was the most gorgeous red. I hadn’t gone easy on her, but I hadn’t been too hard for a newbie. And I’d delivered the spanking fast to get it over with so she didn’t have time to get too concerned.

I groped for my calm, for the high that had been there before, but it was gone. There was only the roar of my own need pounding in my head.

Get a fucking grip.

Yeah, I had to. And there were only two ways to deal with it: get up and leave, handle my dick myself in the privacy of my own bathroom. Or I fucked her and got it over and done with.

Fucking her, though, felt like giving in, admitting I was on the edge of my control, and I couldn’t afford that. Control was the only thing that separated me from my old man and I wasn’t giving that up for anyone. Yet what the hell else could I do? I couldn’t get up and leave immediately, not without seeing if she was okay and giving her some aftercare. Some people needed it more than others, and usually I was pretty good at it, though I kept myself at a distance, obviously.

Except I couldn’t do that with Freya. And being distant with her, walking away, would hurt her far more than any spanking would.

Christ, I was screwed. Or, rather, I would be. Soon.

‘E?’ Freya asked in a croaky-sounding voice, beginning to shift on my knees.

That decided me. I didn’t want her to see how close to the edge of my control I was, and if she got up she would. So I held her down, my hand on her back. ‘Stay there,’ I ordered curtly. ‘I haven’t finished with you yet.’

Then I moved, shifting her so she was lying face down on the couch before kneeling behind her. I pulled out a condom and rolled it down over my cock with hands that were shaking far too much for my liking. Then I pulled her up on her knees so that perfect ass was facing me, still reddened from where I’d spanked her.

Fucking gorgeous.

I wanted my high back, wanted the calm so I could focus on her more, but it had gone and there was no time.

‘E?’ She shifted, trying to turn her head toward me. ‘Are you okay?’

Jesus. After spanking her, she was the one wondering if I was okay.

I didn’t answer. Instead I gripped my dick and fitted the head to her perfect little pussy. I’d wanted to tease her, make her beg for this, make her beg for me, but the feel of her blew the last shreds of my control sky-high.

‘Going to fuck you now,’ I growled, letting her know where I was at, and then I shoved myself home.

She groaned, her back arching. ‘Oh…yes…’ Pleasure vibrated in her voice and when I shoved deeper she trembled.

The heat of her wiped every thought from my head, the clutch of her pussy around my cock like nothing I’d ever felt in my life. She held me so tightly, so completely. Like the way she hugged me, it felt like she was grounding me.

I found myself stroking her ass, her skin like warm satin, and I couldn’t stop myself from moving, sliding out of her and then back in. Deeper. Harder. Faster.

She panted, lifting her hips to my thrust, taking me as hard as I was taking her. And I’d been going to lean forward and take that silky plait in my hands, wind it around my wrists and use it to tease her, edging a little pain, but all thought of more teasing was gone. Completely.

Instead I put my hands on her hips and gripped her tight, thrusting hard into her. She felt so good, so fucking good. Too good. As if our friendship had been a jigsaw puzzle that had always been missing a piece and this—sex—was it. The final piece that made an entire picture.

I shouldn’t have done this. I shouldn’t have had her. I should never have touched her. But now it was too late. Now, I was going to come and hard, and way before I was ready.

Jesus, when had that ever happened? Fucking never.

She was moaning, her whole body trembling, and I wasn’t going to last, not the way I wanted to, so I reached around and slid my fingers down between her thighs, finding her swollen clit. Then I stroked her as I thrust.

A cry broke from her and her pussy clenched hard around my cock as she came, and then I was thrusting harder, deeper, driving myself into her as the pleasure swept up my spine and exploded in my head like a fucking firework.

I think I might have roared her name. I definitely shouted something as it hit, and it was all I could do to hold myself together as it annihilated me.

As the pleasure bounced around on the inside of my skull, echoing and re-echoing, I slumped forward over her, barely aware of where I was. She was all softness and sweet musky heat beneath me and I wanted to nuzzle against her skin, lick her all over, then take her again. Harder this time.

Make her yours.

The thought glowed in my head like a neon sign and for a second I couldn’t do anything but stare at it, because what the hell? Make her mine? She already was mine. My friend. And a friend she needed to stay.

I didn’t want to move but I forced myself to pull out of her, getting off the couch and heading straight into the suite’s bathroom, shutting the door.

My hands shook as I dealt with the condom and then I stood there, holding the basin, my head bent, trying to pull myself the fuck together.

Because I had to. I was the Dom. I had to be in control, always.

And I wasn’t now, because she’d got to me. She’d got under my fucking skin. She’d given me that Dom high, made me think things about making her mine, and that wasn’t supposed to happen, not with her. This was a one night only deal and we weren’t going to do this again.

So what are you going to do? Leave her out there alone? Not touch her again tonight?

I couldn’t do that, not after what I’d promised her. She deserved more. And she definitely deserved a man who was in control of himself, not losing it like—

I shut my eyes, my dad’s face and his pleased smile replaying itself in my memory. To this day I don’t know what made that night any different from all the others, because Dad got drunk every Saturday night and he always took it out on me. I usually tried to make sure I was in my bedroom with the door locked, but that night I went downstairs to get a drink of water, thinking that he was passed out on the couch, that I was safe. But I wasn’t safe and he wasn’t passed out on the couch. He was in the kitchen and he cuffed me around the head, starting in with his usual litany of bullshit, about how hard it was being a single dad and all the opportunities he’d missed because he’d had to look after me. He usually lost interest after a couple of punches, but that Saturday I realised something: I was bigger and stronger than he was.

And something in me snapped.

Rage poured out of me, years of putting up with his shit coming to a head, and I turned around and punched him in the face before I could stop myself. And after that I kind of lost it. The next thing I knew, Dad was on the floor, blood all over his face, and just before he fell into unconsciousness he smiled, like he was proud of me, and said, ‘Real chip off the old block, aren’t you, son?’

He saw it in me even then, and I’d felt it in the rage that had nearly eaten me alive, the potential to be like him. So, control it had to be. I had to keep a tight rein on my temper, keep everything locked down, because I never, ever wanted to turn into him.

So far, I’d never had a problem keeping my shit together. Never had anything that would threaten it.

Until tonight. Until Freya.

Overreacting much? You fucked her once and it was good. That doesn’t mean anything.

True. Perhaps I was overreacting. It was just a night after all. It wasn’t going to happen again. Besides, I certainly couldn’t go back in there and pretend none of this had happened, or walk out like a fucking coward. That wouldn’t be fair on her, not when she’d been so into it.

And so into you and what you did to her.

I gritted my teeth against the wave of intense satisfaction that thought brought me. Yeah, I didn’t need that kind of temptation in my head right now.

We’d had sex, just like I’d promised, and maybe if I’d been less concerned with her feelings I would have told her it was over and we needed to go to bed. Separately.

But I couldn’t do that with her. I couldn’t spank her, fuck her, then have everything return to normal immediately. Perhaps I could have if she’d been a stranger, or an experienced sub, but she wasn’t either of those things. She was my friend, who’d trusted me to introduce her to a new experience, and I couldn’t tarnish it by being a dick about it now.

I couldn’t let her down like that.

Pushing myself away from the basin, I went back out into the suite.

Freya had found a throw from somewhere and was sitting on the couch wrapped up in it. She gave me a wary look as I came back, and I could see the worry in her eyes. Of course she had no idea why I’d walked away like that and naturally she’d be questioning herself.

‘What’s up?’ she began. ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t—’

‘Why are you covering yourself?’ I held her gaze, letting her know that nothing had changed, that I was resuming my Dom role. ‘I didn’t tell you that you could.’

A flush moved through her skin, turning her the most delightful shade of pink. Her eyes glowed, the tension in her body gradually bleeding away. ‘Oh, but I—’

I grabbed one end of the throw and jerked it away from her, leaving her naked on the couch. ‘Much better.’ Taking a step towards her, I raised a hand to the collar of my shirt, beginning to unbutton it, liking how her gaze dropped to watch as the fabric parted. Hunger rose in her eyes and satisfaction coiled deep inside me. I could find that high again. With her it would always be within reach. And maybe I’d let myself have it for tonight. It would make it much better for the both of us—no, not just better. It would make it phenomenal.

And if there was one thing that my Little deserved it was phenomenal.

Tomorrow could take care of itself.

‘Now,’ I murmured, shrugging out of my shirt, ‘where were we?’

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Freya

I CRACKED OPEN an eye the next morning and for a second couldn’t work out where I was. It looked like a hotel room—a very nice hotel room—with views across a city—a familiar city…

Recognition hit me, along with the memory of everything that had happened the night before. The orgasm that Everett had given me in the hallway at the British Museum. The orgasm he’d given me back in the living area of his hotel suite. The orgasm I’d had with him deep inside me…

So. Many. Orgasms.

Heat washed through me and I had to close my eyes again, more than a little overwhelmed. By everything Everett had done to me the night before. By my own reaction to him. By the sheer amazingness of the sex.

By the weirdness of doing all of that with my best friend.

We’d done a whole lot more out in the living room after he’d come back from the bathroom, and I had to admit to being more than slightly exhausted by the time he’d picked me up in his arms and taken me into the master bedroom, where he was sleeping. Then he’d laid me in the bed and got in beside me, wrapped his big, warm arms around me and told me to go to sleep.

And I had. Instantly.

But now I was awake and the morning was here, the next day beginning and… I opened my eyes once more and turned my head on the pillow.

There was no one beside me. I was alone.

My throat felt a bit achy, which was weird, and I told myself it didn’t matter that he wasn’t here. We’d said it was only for the night and the next day we’d go back to normal. Put it behind us, no harm, no foul.

Yet I had a sneaking suspicion it wasn’t going to be as easy as that. Not when last night had been…well…were there enough superlatives in the world to fully describe it? Amazing. Phenomenal. Incredible. But even that didn’t cover the way Everett had made me feel.

It went beyond simple physical pleasure. He’d made me feel good about myself in a way I hadn’t felt for a long time. And that brought a little bit of pain with it, because I’d always thought I was fine with being the big Clydesdale in a room full of show ponies. But apparently I wasn’t all that fine. Because with a burning look and a few simple words of praise, Everett had nearly made me cry.

He’d always accepted me as I was, liked me as I was. So to know that he also lusted after me as I was had flicked a switch inside me. Last night, even though I’d followed his orders, I’d felt powerful and sexy and strong, not to mention intensely feminine.

I’d never felt that way before and it was…pretty damn good.

And now it’s over.

The ache in my throat deepened. Yeah, of course, it was over. One night, that was what we’d said. And I didn’t want anything more. Everett was my friend, and a friend was more important to me than anything else. Relationships were more hassle than they were worth, especially when the shine wore off, as it always did. At least a friend stuck by you, no matter what.

On that rousing thought I pushed myself out of bed, wincing slightly as unfamiliar muscles pulled, reminding me of everything Everett and I had done the night before. Hunger for him gripped me suddenly and sharply, and I had to stop and take a steadying breath to force it back.

He’d given me what I’d asked for and it seemed like he’d enjoyed himself too, but now we’d satisfied our curiosity that was it. I’d successfully achieved Operation Orgasm and I was certain it would happen again. With another guy.

Yeah, are you sure about that?

Ignoring the niggling doubt, I slipped into the massive bathroom and treated myself to a hot shower. A part of me didn’t want to wash the scent of him and of sex away, but keeping that on my skin would have been weird so I gave myself a decent scrub. Might as well start as I meant to continue.

There was a thick white towelling robe hanging from a hook near the shower, so after I’d got out I put it on and belted it firmly. I had no idea what time it was, but it was clearly full morning and I was starving.

Breakfast and caffeine were needed, stat.

I wandered out into the living area of the suite, only to come to a dead stop as I spotted Everett sitting at the dining room table. He had his laptop open in front of him and he was clearly in the middle of some work. It would have looked very professional if he hadn’t also been wearing only a pair of jeans.

My mouth went bone-dry, my brain helpfully replaying memories of the night before in my head. Him, unbuttoning his white shirt. Him, unzipping his pants. Him, naked. Golden skin. A scattering of crisp blond hair on his powerful chest. Sharply defined, rock-hard muscle. The way my stern Viking was built was enough to make Thor jealous.

I couldn’t stop looking at him now, the way the light fell on him through the windows gilding his smooth skin, turning his blond hair bright gold. He was frowning at his computer screen, his profile all intense concentration, and something inside me clenched hard.

You’re never going to find another man like him and you know it.

I swallowed. No, of course I wouldn’t. Everett Calhoun was one of a kind. There wasn’t anyone else like him, and if I wanted anything resembling a future sex life I was going to have to adjust my expectations.

Pushing aside the way my stomach dipped, in what I told myself definitely wasn’t bitter disappointment, I strolled over to the table, pulled out a chair beside him and sat myself down in it.

He didn’t look up, which was probably for the best, since looking at him close up wasn’t any better for my peace of mind than looking at him from far away. In fact, it was worse because there was a mark on his neck that I knew I’d given him, and there was one on my inner thigh that he’d given me in punishment.

And then thinking of punishment set off another train of memories that I didn’t need right now, making my butt suddenly feel hot and my pussy throb and every other inch of skin feel achingly sensitive.

Goddamn it.

‘Hey,’ I said into the silence. ‘So, is there breakfast?’

He nodded over to a trolley that I’d somehow missed seeing, covered in various silver-domed platters. There was a basket of rolls and pastries and also—blessedly—a steaming carafe of coffee.

‘Oh, great,’ I said, staring at him. ‘Thank you.’

He still didn’t look up. His blond brows didn’t even twitch.

‘A “Good morning, how are you today?” might be nice.’ I probably shouldn’t have pressed the issue, but I couldn’t help it. I just wanted him to look up and make eye contact.

Finally, his gaze lifted, his direct blue gaze meeting mine. There was nothing of the heat that had been in there the night before, nothing of the hunger or the intensity. There was only slight exasperation, the look he always gave me when he was in the middle of doing something and I was interrupting.

Clearly we were back to being friends again.

‘Good morning, how are you today?’ he said without inflection. ‘There. Happy now?’

I should have been happy. I should have been really pleased that we were back to normal. But I wasn’t.

I forced a smile. ‘Ecstatic. Want a coffee?’

He looked back down at his computer. ‘Yeah, that would be great.’

My gut dipped again, a sudden lurch that I couldn’t deny this time was nothing but disappointment. Though I didn’t know what I was expecting from him, not after we’d promised each other that a night was all it would be.

He was only doing what we’d agreed. What the hell was my problem?

Annoyed, I pushed myself out of the chair and went over to the breakfast trolley, picking up the covers over the food and taking a look at what was inside. Bacon and eggs and a fluffy omelette. Blueberry pancakes. All my favourites in other words, and that needled me too, though again I had no idea why.

My annoyance morphed into anger and I found myself putting the covers back on the food with slightly more force than was needed.

Stupid—I was being stupid.

Trying to get it together, I busied myself with getting coffee for us both, ladling Everett’s up with sugar since he liked his coffee black and sweet, before turning to bring it back to the table.

Only to find him staring at me, his blond brows pulled down.

It was so like the stern look he’d given me the night before, as he’d told me what to do, that everything in me tightened, my breath catching.

God, he was hot. Why had I liked the way he’d ordered me around? No, not just liked it. I’d loved it.

‘What’s the matter?’ The question was brusque, with an edge of command to it that I wasn’t sure was intentional or not.

What I did know was that I found it unbearably exciting.

‘Nothing,’ I said, equally brusque, even more pissed off than I was already.

His gaze narrowed, his focus intensifying. ‘Bullshit.’

Heat prickled over my skin, something in the heart of me responding instinctively to that edge inside him. I tried to ignore it. ‘You want this coffee or what?’

‘Little.’ There was a warning note in his voice.

‘No,’ I snapped. ‘You don’t get to do that now. I’m not taking your orders any more.’

Something that looked like surprise shifted in his gaze, as if he hadn’t realised what he was doing. Then, slowly, he leaned back in his chair, his gaze flicking back down to his screen. ‘Yeah, fair enough. And sure, I would like that coffee.’

Him backing down should have mollified me. But it didn’t. If anything it made me feel even grumpier.

Get a fucking grip.

I gritted my teeth and tried to get a fucking grip, moving back over to the table with the mugs of coffee I’d poured for us. Of course, I put his down with a little more enthusiasm than I should have and it slopped over the rim of the mug.

Everett stared at the brown stain on the tabletop and then looked up at me. ‘Nothing, huh?’

I could feel my face getting hot. ‘I’ll get a cloth.’ I put my mug down and turned away.

Only to feel Everett’s strong fingers wrap tightly around my wrist.

‘Hey,’ I snapped, turning back. ‘What are you doing?’

His blue gaze bored into mine, his grip unrelenting. ‘And you don’t get to do that either. If you’re not taking my orders, don’t start behaving like you’re desperate to be punished.’

My cheeks flamed and abruptly I was trembling. The heat of his touch and the way he was holding me, the slide of light over his bare skin, outlining every muscle—it was all too much. It was all making me intensely aware that maybe one night wouldn’t be enough, that I’d want more than that. And that maybe he didn’t want to give it to me.

‘Or do you want some punishment?’ His voice turned hard, his gaze blue lightning. ‘Is that what you’re trying to say?’

Heat streaked through me. He wouldn’t be talking to me like this if he didn’t want it as badly as I did, surely? No, he wouldn’t. And he wouldn’t be looking at me so intently either, the way he had last night, as if he was reading every thought in my head.

I pulled against his hold deliberately, watching the flames in his eyes leap. ‘Punishment? Why the hell would I want that?’ I lifted my chin and pulled again, harder this time. ‘Let me go, asshole.’

But he didn’t. Instead he shoved back his chair and rose to his full height, making excitement buzz in my veins and a wild thrill ripple all over my skin.

He jerked me close, right up against his chest, his hot skin like a furnace burning through the material of my robe. He looked down at me and there was nothing of the friend in his eyes. Nothing at all.

Holding me tight, he tugged at the tie of my robe, pulling it undone and letting the material gape open. Cool air whispered over my skin, closely followed by the heat of his hand as he slid it blatantly between my thighs.

I shuddered as his fingers stroked over my sex, and instantly I was wet. Already I was on the verge of coming and it shocked me how ready I was for him. ‘We said only one night,’ I forced out, a moan escaping me as he found my clit with one finger and began to circle it lightly. ‘I…d-didn’t think you wanted more.’

‘I’ll tell you what I want and what I don’t. You don’t get to assume anything, understand me?’ Staring down at me, he slid one finger inside me, making me shake. ‘Fuck, you’re wet. You want my cock? Is that why you’re so pissy? You want my cock and you don’t know how to ask for it?’

I could barely speak as pleasure began to uncurl inside me, slow and liquid. ‘Yes,’ I breathed. ‘I want it. But not just for a night.’

He eased another finger inside me, stretching me gently, and I gasped. ‘I see. Well, perhaps I’m in a generous mood. And perhaps I’d like to give you what you want. But you have to take some punishment first, because I don’t like lies.’

This was probably a bad idea. No, not just bad. It was the worst idea in the history of the world. One night we could have chalked up to curiosity and moved on. But more than one…? Yeah, I wasn’t sure we could do that.

Yet right now I wasn’t thinking about that and I was pretty sure neither was he. Because he’d responded so quickly to me, and so intensely, he must have wanted this as badly as I did. And he’d been waiting for a sign from me.

I tipped my head back and looked up into his stern blue eyes. ‘I don’t want to be punished,’ I lied. ‘And I’m not turned on. Not even a little.’

Everett grinned. Then, before I could move, he turned me around and pushed me down face first over the table.

CHAPTER TWELVE

Everett

I SHOULDN’T HAVE done it. I shouldn’t have pushed her down over the table. I shouldn’t have pulled the robe off her. I shouldn’t have spanked her ass bright red. I shouldn’t have turned her over and fucked her hard right there on the table-top, making her scream even louder than she had the night before.

And I definitely shouldn’t have picked her up, thrown her over my shoulder and carried her into the bedroom, where we did it all over again.

No, what I should have done was keep on with my spreadsheet and ignore the increasingly annoyed looks she was sending me. Ignore the fresh scent of her skin, undercut with the musk of her growing arousal. Ignore the flashes of skin that her robe kept showing me. And yeah, I should have ignored the way she’d snapped at me, making it perfectly obvious what she wanted from me, even though she really didn’t understand it herself.

But I didn’t ignore it.

I gave her what she wanted, what we both wanted, and now what should have been just one night included a morning, and still my goddamn cock wanted more.

Freya was lying beside me on the bed and both of us were naked. The sheets were on the floor. She was on her front, hugging a pillow, while I lay on my back, staring at the goddamn ceiling, trying to figure out where the hell we went from here.

One night, I’d said. And what had I done the second she’d come into the room, all warm and sexy and freshly showered?

The control I thought I’d mastered was lying in shreds on the ground along with the fucking sheets.

‘So,’ she said quietly, her voice husky. ‘What now?’

It was a very good question and one I didn’t have an answer to. ‘It was supposed to be a night.’ I didn’t look at her, though I could feel her gaze resting on me.

‘Yeah, I know.’

A small silence sat between us.

‘Do you still want more?’ I asked, because I had to know where this was going, and I thought I knew the answer.

‘I mean…do you?’

I turned my head.

Her eyes were the green of a forest as they looked into mine, the freckles dusting her nose golden. Her hair had dried into thick waves over her shoulders and it had turned to fire in the sunlight coming through the windows.

My God, but she was beautiful.

‘Yes.’ I let her see the truth in my gaze. ‘I do.’ And I did.

I’d tried keeping her at a distance that morning, but that had lasted all of five seconds. And sure, I could draw a line under it now and really make an effort to keep everything locked down. But, by taking her this morning, we’d crossed yet another line and it seemed stupid to try and cross back over it again. She wanted more and so did I, so why not? Why not keep doing this until we’d both finally had enough, and then move on? She could get me out of her system and vice versa. And, besides, admitting that she was getting to me would mean accepting that my control wasn’t as perfect as I thought it was.

True, it hadn’t been last night, but perhaps that was me being a pussy about it. Perhaps I just needed to harden up. And wouldn’t carrying on doing this with Freya be the perfect way to go about it?

What about your friendship? How is that going to work?

It was going to work how it had worked before. We’d put this aside and go on as if nothing had happened.

‘You’re here for another five days,’ I went on, calmly blasting all the plans for this week to smithereens in favour of my dick. ‘So let’s keep doing this until it’s time for you to fly back to the States.’

It was only five days. What harm could it do?

Something that had been tight before relaxed in her face, her green eyes glittering. ‘I…would be very okay with that.’

‘Just five days. No more.’

‘And then we go back to the way it was before, right? Just friends again.’

‘Yeah.’ I turned onto my side and propped my head on my hand, looking down at her. ‘Just friends. And afterward we draw a line under this. We won’t talk about this again.’

She nodded, her gaze already dropping to my chest. ‘That’s fine. I can deal with that.’

I put out a hand and stroked my fingers over the satiny skin of her shoulder, allowing them to trail down her side, watching as she shivered gratifyingly. ‘Are you happy with me taking charge?’

‘Yes.’ There was no hesitation at all in the word. ‘Why do I like it so much when you do?’ Her brow wrinkled. ‘Is it weird? Does it mean there’s something wrong with me?’

‘Why the hell would you think there’s something wrong with you?’ I frowned, not liking that she’d think that way, though, knowing Freya, it wasn’t any wonder.

She gave a small shrug. ‘I dunno. Perhaps it’s weird.’

‘If it makes you weird, then it makes me even fucking weirder.’

‘You’re not weird, E.’

I stroked back up her shoulder again, relishing the feel of her silky skin against mine. ‘No, I’m not. And there are lots of other people just like me and just like you that get off on it too. So no more talk about how it’s wrong, understand?’

‘Oh, I don’t think it’s wrong really. I just… I’m surprised by how much I like it.’ She had a very serious look on her face. ‘But I think it only works with you. The thought of doing this with another guy leaves me cold.’

The same satisfaction I’d felt the night before shifted in my chest again. As if I was pleased she didn’t want to do this with another man. As if I’d punch anyone in the face who even dared to think they could do the same thing with her.

Dangerous.

I tried to ignore that thought. Yes, the urge to punch someone was dangerous, but what Freya did or didn’t do with another guy shouldn’t affect me. Because what the hell did I care if she wanted to follow someone else’s orders? Have someone else’s hand spanking her perfect ass?

A growl caught in my throat at that particular image and I had to shove the urge away hard before it got out.

Perhaps you shouldn’t be thinking about her with other men?

Yeah, no. Definitely not. It didn’t bode well for the five days we’d just agreed on, but shit, if I couldn’t control myself for five days then there was no fucking hope for me. This would be a test.

‘You don’t need to do it with another guy,’ I said. ‘You have me for the next five days and what we do together during that time is no one’s business but ours.’ I lifted my fingers from her shoulder and trailed them over the curve of her cheek instead. ‘I don’t think you’re weird. And I don’t think what we’re doing is wrong. You like it. I like it. That’s enough.’

Freya’s lovely mouth curved, the serious look vanishing. ‘Yeah, that’s true.’ She lifted her hand, her fingers reaching to stroke my chest. ‘I mean it, E. I don’t think you’re weird either. But…’ She gave me a questioning look. ‘What do you get out of orders and punishments?’

I’d never been asked that before but, since I’d demanded honesty from her, I couldn’t give her anything less than honesty myself. ‘Control.’ I turned my hand over, letting the backs of my fingers brush against her cheek. ‘That’s what it’s about. You giving me control, you making me responsible for your pleasure, is a gift. I like making people feel good, I like helping them out, and I get off on anticipating a woman’s needs. I get off on pushing her too, showing her what her body is capable of, what she is capable of.’ I let my hand drop away and put it over hers where her fingers brushed against my chest, holding her fingertips against me. I’d never articulated this to anyone before and for some reason I really wanted her to know. It was a part of myself I hadn’t shared with anyone. ‘There’s a moment when it’s all really good, where I’m just in the moment. Intensely focused. Powerful too. I’m completely and utterly in control of everything. It’s…like a drug high, only better.’

Her eyes were wide. ‘That sounds awesome.’

‘Submissives can get a high too, when it’s really intense. Basically, a massive endorphin rush.’

She blinked. ‘Really?’

‘Sure.’ I eyed her. ‘You might have had a taste of it last night.’ There was no ‘might’ about it. I’d recognised that glazed, spacey look.

Her eyes went even wider. ‘Was that what it was? A high? I mean, it did kind of feel like that at the time.’

‘Well, that’s what it is. I like taking control…you prefer to give it up.’

‘Huh.’ She gave a slow nod. ‘Maybe I do. But why is taking control so important to you?’

Freya knew about my dad, and what he was like, but we never talked about it because I didn’t like discussing it. Especially not with her. Back when I was younger, being with her was the only time I could get away from him, so talking about him made me feel as if he was intruding where he didn’t belong. Freya made me happy and I didn’t want to taint it by talking about that old bastard.

I let out a breath, not wanting to talk about it now either. But she was looking at me so earnestly I couldn’t not give her a straight answer. ‘You know what Dad was like. Always drinking. Always having to fight something. Fucking angry at everything, with not an ounce of self-control. I didn’t want to be like him.’

‘But you’re not like him.’

She had no idea. She hadn’t seen me punching the old prick in the face and kicking him to the ground. Or seen the recognition in his eyes as he’d lain on the floor, looking up at me standing over him with my knuckles bloody. And she definitely hadn’t heard that note of smug satisfaction in his voice as he’d told me how much like him I was…

‘There’s always that potential.’ I kept my tone noncommittal, hoping she’d get the hint and not ask too many more questions. ‘Alcoholism runs in families, and violence goes along with it, so I thought practising a little self-control myself wouldn’t hurt.’

Her palm was warm against my chest, unwavering as her support of me had always been. ‘Yeah, I suppose that’s fair enough. But, for what it’s worth, I don’t think you’d ever do that.’

The conviction in her voice was unshakeable, as was the certainty in her gaze. She’d always seen something in me that wasn’t there and I didn’t have the heart to tell her she was wrong. Besides, I liked it when she looked at me like that. It made me feel like there was hope for me after all.

I said nothing, but I squeezed her hand, letting her know I appreciated the statement.

She smiled. ‘So…that high. Does it happen every time?’

I shook my head, holding her palm tight against my chest. ‘No. It’s only happened to me a handful of times. You have to have a certain level of trust with someone before it works like that, and it really involves absolute trust. Trusting your partner and them trusting you. And trust can only really be found in the clubs if you’re not in a permanent relationship.’

‘Oh? Why is that?’

‘Because clubs have rules and people monitoring them. It’s once you go out of a club, where no one is checking up on people, that things can get dangerous and scary.’

Freya’s green eyes searched my face. ‘I… Did it happen with…uh…us?’

I’d known she was going to ask and though something in me wasn’t happy giving her the truth, I couldn’t lie about it either. ‘Yeah,’ I said.

Her eyes went wide. ‘It did?’

‘Last night. This morning.’ I shouldn’t have gone on, but I did. ‘It felt like I could read your mind, Little. Like I knew exactly what you wanted, without you having to tell me. And you knew exactly what I wanted from you too. I could feel your trust in me and how absolute it was, like you’d trust me with anything. Anything at all.’

She nodded, her gaze still wide. ‘Yes, I would.’ Her throat worked as she swallowed. ‘It’s not like that with everyone?’

‘No. No it’s not.’

We stared at each other for a long moment and I could feel something thickening in the air between us. Something that really shouldn’t have been there.

And it was clear she felt it too, because she suddenly looked down at my chest again. ‘Why me then?’ The question came out sharply, as if she hadn’t meant to say it. ‘Why is it different with me?’

‘I think because you’re my friend and we have a level of trust in each other already.’

‘So…the other women this has happened with… You had the same level of trust with them?’ That sharp note was still in her voice, as if the idea of other women bothered her. Almost as if she was…jealous. Which was odd, because she’d never been jealous before.

You’ve never slept with her before.

Another thread of emotion twisted inside me and I didn’t like it. Complications. Christ, if I needed a reminder of why this whole thing had been a bad idea then here it was.

‘Those other women are in the past.’ I reached to take her chin in my hand, to tilt her head back so I could see what was in her eyes. ‘You’re the one in my bed right now.’

‘Yeah. Yeah, I know.’ She pulled away before I had a chance to take hold of her, tugging her hand out from under mine and turning away. ‘You know, I didn’t have breakfast and I should really have something to eat.’

Then, before I could stop her, she’d slipped off the bed and headed out the door.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Freya

AS SOON AS I went back into the living area of the suite, belting the robe I’d grabbed to wear around me again, I knew I’d made a mistake. I’d succumbed to a stupid burst of jealousy about the other women Everett had gotten his ‘high’—or whatever the hell it was—with.

It was dumb. I knew I was special to him. I knew it. I was his friend and that meant a lot. But…somehow, knowing he’d felt that high with other people, knowing he’d had that experience with someone else…

I don’t know. I guess I wanted to be even more special. I wanted him to have it with only me. I had lots of other things he shared only with me—that mention about his evil old man, for example—so why not this? But saying that to him would make what had happened to us into something more than it was. And we weren’t doing that.

Five days. That was all, and hell, that was fine by me. More than fine. The moment he’d pulled me to him this morning, all hot, sexy authority and dominance, I knew I wanted more. That one night wasn’t enough to explore what we’d discovered. And doing this again over the five days I was in London, before I left for home and Tiffany’s stupid wedding…yeah, that was perfect.

So, no more making a big deal about the sex. And no more getting jealous or possessive, right?

Yes. Right. I’d enjoy what we had here and now and once I left we’d both draw a line under it like he’d said.

In the meantime, breakfast.

The food had cooled, but I didn’t care. I got myself a plate of bacon, scrambled eggs and some pancakes, then I sat down at the table and started to eat.

Everett wandered out a few moments later, wearing jeans and nothing else, which was more than okay by me, though I preferred him naked.

He was frowning, giving me a gauging look, and I knew if he asked me what was wrong yet again I’d probably scream. I didn’t want to have to explain my reaction to the thought of those women. I didn’t want to have to admit to him that I was jealous. Because then everything would become a big deal and that was not what this was about.

So, instead, I swallowed my mouthful and said, to pre-empt him, ‘Hey, so I’m not in London all that long and I’d sort of planned to do some sightseeing. Go and see the Tower of London, Big Ben, Buckingham Palace—all that stuff.’

It wasn’t a lie. I had wanted to go and do all that stuff and I still did. I also could use a break and some fresh air to calm myself down, get rid of the sex hormones clouding my brain with stupid things like jealousy and wanting to be special to him in some way.

Plus, maybe it would be good for us both to put on some clothes and be just friends again for a while.

He stood there watching me, rubbing at his chin with one hand, the other buried in his jeans pocket. He had some golden morning beard running along his jaw and it looked good on him, made him look even more like a Viking than normal—a disreputable one—and I wanted to touch it, to see if it felt as soft as it looked. I also wanted to touch him, to run my fingers over his golden skin, trace the muscles of his powerful chest and stomach…with my tongue…

No, bad Freya. I wanted to do some sightseeing and that was sightseeing of the city, not yet more of Everett’s glorious body.

I tore my gaze away from him and shovelled some more bacon into my mouth.

‘Sightseeing,’ he echoed, as if the word didn’t mean anything to him.

‘Yeah, you know. As in seeing the sights. Doing touristy stuff.’

There was a silence.

Then he came over to the table and pulled out one of the chairs where he’d been sitting before, sitting down fluidly in it, his long legs stretched out before him. His blue gaze swept speculatively over me.

I held up a hand. ‘Don’t do it.’

One fair brow arched. ‘Don’t do what?’

‘Do that Dom thing. Looking at me like you’re trying to read my mind.’

Instantly he frowned. ‘I wasn’t.’

‘Yes, you were. I don’t want to talk about anything, E. I said I wanted more and so that’s what we’re doing. But I’m in London and I don’t want to spend all of it in bed, okay? So stop analysing my every reaction.’

He said nothing, the look on his face unreadable. And for a second tension gathered in the air between us the way it had before, and I knew that all I’d need to do was throw out a challenge and we’d end up back in bed again.

But that wouldn’t get me seeing the sights of London and right now I needed out of this hotel room. So I didn’t throw out a challenge. I ate some of my pancakes instead.

Eventually, Everett let out a breath. ‘Okay, sightseeing it is. I’ve got a few things organised for you anyway.’

I felt the usual combination of irritation and pleasure that always went through me whenever Everett ‘organised a few things’. He was a thoughtful guy, and often did things to help me out. But it was always a double-edged sword. I liked that he thought of me, yet I preferred to handle things myself. Especially after Aunt Helen used to make such a big deal of it. ‘You’re a big, strong girl,’ she’d tell me whenever I asked her for something. ‘You should be able to handle it yourself.’

And so I had. And I continued to do so. And though I might have needed Everett’s help with the orgasm stuff, I could handle looking around London on my own.

‘Thanks,’ I said, ‘but you know you didn’t need to do that. I was planning on having a look around myself.’

A muscle flicked in his impressive jaw, a subtle tension gathering around him, and when he spoke his voice was gritty with irritation. ‘Can’t you let me do just one fucking thing for you?’

I blinked at him, surprise washing over me. He’d never got angry with me when I refused his help before. Never even got irritated. He would simply shrug one of those impressive shoulders and say stuff like ‘Well, the offer’s there’. He’d never seemed bothered one way or the other.

But he was definitely bothered now. Which in turn bothered me.

I put my fork down. ‘Hey, I didn’t ask you to organise anything. I was happy to look around on my own.’

‘Yeah, you’re always happy to look around on your own. You never want anyone to do a single fucking thing for you.’ He put his hands on the arms of the chair and shoved it back forcefully as he stood up. ‘Fine. We’ll do it your way.’

Then, before I had a chance to reply, he strode from the room.

I watched him go, open-mouthed, shocked. He’d never before let me know that my insistence on standing on my own two feet bothered him. Never.

But shit. What did he expect? I couldn’t go running to him every time I needed something. He was very generous, I knew that. And he always wanted to help.

So why don’t you let him?

I frowned, because I had no answer to that. I just didn’t let him. He’d offered me money and support and all kinds of things over the years and I’d never accepted any of it—well, definitely not the money anyway.

The business was mine to deal with and I wanted to deal with it my way. It was the only thing I had that was wholly mine, the one place in the world where I felt at home and I didn’t want to be reliant on anyone else.

Not the way I’d been reliant on my aunt and uncle after my mother had died. Coming into their house with nothing, knowing my aunt in particular didn’t want me there, even though Mom was her sister. Knowing that if Mom hadn’t been killed, they wouldn’t have had a grief-stricken eight-year-old to bring up, because my dad was long since out of the picture.

But… Everett didn’t know that, did he? I’d never talked in any great detail about growing up with my aunt and uncle, though he’d picked up on quite a bit.

Perhaps he should know why you’re being a jerk? Especially after what he told you just before.

Yeah, when I’d asked him about what he got out of ordering women around and taking charge. Because I’d been curious. It hadn’t surprised me when he’d talked about control, especially in relation to his dad. Though Everett was nothing like his dad and never would be. I hadn’t been surprised when he’d mentioned that having control was less about the power he had over other people and more about giving them what they really wanted. Of course he’d see it in terms of giving to people, about helping them, because that was what Everett had always been about.

And he’s always offering to help you and you keep refusing.

Yeah, but he’d never said it bothered him before, so where did he get off suddenly being all angry at me about it?

Annoyed with him and feeling guilty for being annoyed at him, the pancake I was chewing on suddenly didn’t taste very good.

Come on, he was trying to do something nice and you flung it back in his face.

That was true. And then I’d snapped at him when he’d been irritable about it. Perhaps I needed to go and explain my position to him, so he understood. Hell, maybe I could even let him do whatever things he had ‘organised’ for me. It wasn’t a big deal and it would make him happy, so why not?

Irritated with myself, I got up from the table and went to find him.

He was in the bedroom and he must have had a lightning-fast shower because he had a towel wrapped around him and his golden skin was glistening with moisture.

God, he was gorgeous.

I couldn’t help simply standing there to watch him as he leaned down to pick up some underwear that he had on the bed, the towel dropping from his hips to reveal his magnificent naked body.

Leaning against the doorway, I tried to moisten my suddenly dry mouth and find my voice. ‘Hey…uh… I didn’t mean to snap at you before. I’m sorry.’

He gave me one searing blue glance, then turned away, beginning to dress.

There was a thick silence.

Oh, yeah, I’d really offended him, hadn’t I? Shit.

‘I didn’t know it bothered you so much that I didn’t accept your help,’ I said quickly, hoping it didn’t sound defensive. ‘You should have told me.’

Stepping into his jeans, he tugged them on, doing up his zipper. ‘It’s not your problem.’

‘Well, you’ve kind of made it my problem now.’ I swallowed. ‘I don’t want to upset you, E.’

He turned to pick up the dark blue T-shirt that was lying on the bed. ‘I’m not upset.’

I snorted. ‘Now who’s talking bullshit?’

He went still, his back to me. Then he turned abruptly, and there was something fierce burning in his blue eyes. ‘I’ve got all this fucking money. And if I can’t help anyone with it, then what’s the fucking point of it? What’s the fucking point of any of it?’

Surprise rippled through me. I’d never thought that much about his money, about him as a billionaire. I mean, I knew he was loaded and I knew he worked hard for it. But I hadn’t thought about what he did with that money, other than donate to charitable foundations and stuff, plus helping out worthy causes in our small town.

I never thought he’d have definite feelings about that money either.

Are you sure this is just about the money?

Good question.

Frowning, I folded my arms. ‘What has helping me got to do with “all this fucking money”?’

He ignored that, staring at me, an expression I couldn’t interpret on his face. ‘Why won’t you let me help you?’

An uncomfortable feeling shifted inside my chest and I was conscious of the wood of the doorframe digging into my shoulder. I didn’t really want to talk about this, but it was probably something he should know, given how much it was pissing him off.

Sex is really dealing out massive truth bombs all over the place, huh?

Oh, that was crap. Telling him this had nothing to do with the sex. Nothing.

‘I don’t know,’ I said. ‘I think it’s got something to do with losing Mom. With having to go and live with Aunt Helen, and having to rely on them. And I was so different to them. Not just physically, but in other things as well. My cousins were into girly stuff and I was more interested in cars and fixing things.’ I folded my arms, not sure why I was finding this difficult to talk about. ‘I had to be given things. And my aunt always kind of made a big deal out of having to buy me clothes, and stuff I needed for school. Not in a bad way, just…in a way that made me not want to ask her for things.’ I bit my lip and looked away from him, the way he was looking at me making me feel weirdly exposed. ‘I didn’t like mentioning when I grew out of my clothes because she always made some comment about how big I was getting and how tall, and how expensive it was to have to get me new clothes all the time.’

‘So that’s why you kept wearing those sneakers that were way too small for you and jeans that were always too short?’

Oh, God. He’d seen that? How embarrassing.

I glanced away again. ‘I didn’t want to tell her.’

‘Because you wanted her to notice, right?’

I could feel my face getting hot. ‘No, of course not.’

‘And the more she didn’t notice, the more you wore clothes that were too small, shoving it in her face.’

He’s right. You were punishing her for that.

I kept my gaze on the windows behind him. ‘How do you know?’

‘Because I noticed,’ he said. ‘I noticed everything about you, Freya.’

My cheeks burned and I kept staring at the city glittering in the sunlight beyond the glass. I didn’t know why I felt so weird about the fact that he’d noticed my stubborn rebellions. Perhaps because it had felt petty. Aunt Helen hadn’t had to take me in after Mom’s death, yet she had, saving me from going into the foster system.

But still. I’d got a certain satisfaction out of seeing her eventually take notice of the fact that my T-shirts were way too tight and my jeans too short. That I winced when I walked because my feet hurt. She’d huff, irritated, and then make noise about having to buy me more and what a shame it was that I couldn’t get hand-me-downs from her girls because I was too big.

‘Yeah, well,’ I said, deciding this conversation needed to get back on track. ‘Me not wanting to accept help wasn’t to do with you, okay? It was my deal. Plus…the garage is mine. It’s kind of the only thing that really is and I didn’t want anyone coming in and taking over.’

‘I wasn’t taking over. I was only offering you some financial help.’

‘Sure.’ I glanced at him again. ‘But you’re a take-charge kind of guy, E. So forgive me if I was trying to protect myself from that.’

‘You don’t want to be protected from it,’ he shot back, staring hard at me. ‘You like it. And you’re strong enough to push back if it’s a problem for you.’

He’s not wrong.

No, he wasn’t. Damn him. I really liked it in the bedroom after all.

Shifting restlessly yet again, I couldn’t work out why this conversation felt so difficult when it was supposed to be about him, not me. Which, on reflection, was probably why this conversation was difficult. ‘Look, I just wanted to explain why I didn’t want you to organise sightseeing stuff for me. And to say sorry. And also that if you had organised a few touristy things for me—’ I steeled myself and met his relentless blue stare ‘—then I’d like to take you up on them.’

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Everett

I STARED AT FREYA, my T-shirt still gripped in one hand, forgotten about.

Hell, was this her actually accepting something I’d done for her for a change? She’d accepted my help the night before about the orgasm stuff, but then she was the one who’d come to me.

This was different. This was about me offering, wanting to do something for her, and her refusing, the way she always did.

It shouldn’t have affected me the way it had out there in the living area. Sure, I found it frustrating normally, but she was right. I’d never told her how much it bothered me. Mainly because I didn’t want it to bother me.

Yet it had really fucking bothered me just before and, for some reason, my patience with it had just snapped.

Nothing at all to do with the fact that you crossed the line and started screwing her.

I shoved that thought away. Sex had nothing to do with this. It wasn’t supposed to have any impact on our friendship and I wouldn’t let it.

You need to stay in control, man.

That was true. Yet I hadn’t. I’d let myself get pissed off, then I’d snapped at her and stalked off. I hadn’t expected her to follow. And I hadn’t expected her to explain or apologise. And now here she was, doing both.

She leaned against the doorframe, looking sexy in the white towelling robe, her hair flowing, long and thick and tousled, over her shoulders. Her arms were folded and she was giving me a defiant look, as if daring me to argue with her.

As if I would.

I’d been offering her things for years and she’d never accepted any of it, and now I finally got why. And I understood. I’d seen her stumbling around in too small shoes and too small clothes and wondered why she’d never just asked her aunt to get her new ones. She’d never really explained why not and because we’d both been young I hadn’t pushed for more of an explanation. And afterwards I’d kind of accepted that it was just part of Freya being stubborn.

But it wasn’t. It was Freya wanting to be noticed. Freya wanting to be cared about.

Unwanted emotion sat on my chest like a stone, sympathy for her and yet more anger at her goddamn family who had been so reluctant to take her in after her mom had been killed, and who’d never made any attempt to hide how much of an imposition it had been for them.

I couldn’t do anything about that, couldn’t change the way her aunt especially had treated her. But I could make her feel noticed. I could make her feel beautiful and special, and all the things she truly was.

I could make her feel cared about. And perhaps this time she’d let me.

‘Good,’ I said gruffly. ‘I appreciate it.’

Her expression softened. ‘I know you do.’

I wanted to pull her into my arms in that moment, kiss her, take her over to the bed and make slow, sweet love to her, show her how appreciative I truly was. But slow, sweet love wasn’t our dynamic, and it sure as hell wasn’t mine. And, besides, it would have been changing something that was already working well, and since everything already felt like it was in a state of flux I ignored the urge.

Instead I said, ‘You’d better get some clothes on. Can’t have you running around London bare-assed.’

She grinned. ‘You’d kind of like that though, wouldn’t you?’

I gave her a measuring look. ‘Keep pushing and you might just find yourself on the receiving end of a few punishments. Such as taking a naked stroll, sure.’

‘You wouldn’t.’

This time it was my turn to grin. ‘The question isn’t whether I would or wouldn’t. The question is whether you’d obey me or not.’

She flushed, which was interesting, then pushed herself away from the doorframe. ‘I’m going to…uh…go get dressed.’

I let her go, finishing getting ready myself then going back out into the living area to complete a few tasks. Ulysses had left me a couple of texts and more than a few voicemail messages, asking me where I was because we needed to meet to go over the funds we’d raised at our event the night before, and also where the fuck was Damian, because he wasn’t answering his texts.

I did care about the fundraiser, but it didn’t require ten texts and five missed phone calls about having a goddamn meeting right the hell now. I cared even less about whether Damian was answering his texts—given his preferences, he was probably still asleep in some woman’s bed. And I cared even less than that about Ulysses being pedantic about all this shit.

What I cared about was that finally Freya was letting me do something for her and I was going to take that opportunity with both hands.

So I ignored Ulysses, made a few other phone calls, arranged a few things, then I turned my phone off.

And waited for her.

The things I’d arranged were a private tour of the Tower of London so we didn’t have to wrestle with the crowds, including a look at the Crown Jewels and a visit with the Ravenmaster who looked after the ravens. And after that I took her for a special lunch at a historic London pub, where she had a pint and a ploughman’s lunch and then made me laugh at the face she pulled at the packet of pork scratchings I’d also bought for her to try.

Afterwards, I took her up in one of the Black and White helicopters—I’d flown in the army and I liked to keep my hand in—and we took a sightseeing trip over London by air. She loved that, I could tell, though I thought she was at least as interested in the helicopter as she was in the city below us, which made sense: Freya loved machines.

Back on the ground, we went back to the hotel and got rid of some of the steam we’d built up over the course of the day by indulging ourselves for a couple of hours in the suite. Naked.

Then I took her out for dinner on the Thames, on one of the company’s luxury yachts, motoring slowly under a beautifully lit up Tower Bridge.

She stood on the deck, leaning against the rail, and I watched her tip her head back to look at the bridge as we went under it, the lights shining on her face. She was grinning, her eyes alight, and the tight feeling I’d experienced back in the suite that day returned.

It felt good to make her smile like that. To make her happy. Because if there was one thing Freya deserved it was to be happy.

‘This is great, E,’ she said as the lights slid over her skin. ‘Thank you.’

Simple words and yet I knew she meant them. And that meant something to me too.

I didn’t speak. I just reached out and took hold of her hand, lacing her fingers with mine, and for a moment I felt like I had the night before, when I’d pushed myself inside her. As if the final piece of a jigsaw puzzle had been found and locked in, revealing the entire picture. A picture I’d never seen the whole of before.

Why are you thinking about goddamn jigsaw puzzles? And, more to the point, why are you holding her hand?

Shit.

I glanced at her to see if she’d noticed, but she was still looking at the bridge. Yet her fingers were tight around mine as if holding hands was something we did every day.

It wasn’t, of course. Because holding hands wasn’t something friends did.

But I didn’t pull my hand away and neither did she.

After the boat trip, we went back to the hotel and I had her on her knees in the elevator as we went up to our suite, ordering her to get me off by the time the doors opened or else there’d be trouble.

Little witch was damn near successful too, but I’d had years of controlling my physical responses and I managed to hold off until we got back to our suite. Which naturally meant I could dole out a few punishments, which she loved.

We didn’t get to sleep until exceptionally late and that involved another sleep-in the next morning. I’d arranged a few more trips that day too, another helicopter ride, this time to Windsor Castle, and then a private tour around a wizard theme park based on one of her favourite books as a kid. She squealed a lot about that and even let me buy her a few souvenirs.

But I’d saved the best—or at least what I considered the best—till last. I knew she didn’t like shopping and wasn’t much into clothes, and part of that was because she just wasn’t interested. But I wanted to show her how beautiful she was. That I noticed her. And so I’d booked a private couple of hours in one of London’s most exclusive sex stores. It wasn’t sleazy, catering only to ultra-high net worth clientele, and you couldn’t just walk in off the street. You had to make an appointment.

It was tucked away in a historic building in an alley near Oxford Street, and Freya was still talking about the wand I’d bought her as the limo stopped outside it and I got out, holding the door open for her.

‘Where to now, Jeeves?’ she asked in a terrible faux English accent, looking around at the old buildings surrounding us.

I took her hand and pulled her to the entrance of the store and pushed the buzzer. The door opened and a small, delicate Bambi of a woman pulled it open, smiling at us both. ‘Mr Calhoun, Ms Johnson, please come in.’

Freya was frowning now as I pulled her through the door and into the plush interior of the store.

The floor was dark, ancient-looking wood polished to a high sheen and covered with silk rugs. The walls were painted dark blue with lots of medieval-looking paintings in heavy gold frames. Thin stainless steel rails held hangers on which were positioned bits of silk and lace in every kind of colour there was, as well as long negligees and nightgowns. All very pretty and all very vanilla. As long as you didn’t see that the rails also contained all sorts of very expensive and exquisitely made fetish-wear too.

Freya looked around, her eyes getting rounder and rounder as she took in the glass cases on the walls with all the jewellery in them—jewellery you wouldn’t find in a normal jewellery store, that was. Rings and chains and studs for all kinds of piercings, plus clamps and plugs in various different metals, studded with gems or plain. There was a variety of vibrators and dildos and lots of other fancy sex toys too.

I tended to go for plain and functional when it came to toys, though I did prefer the materials to be of the highest quality.

‘What the hell is this?’ Freya hissed in my ear as the shop assistant made herself scarce, as per my instructions.

Once she’d vanished out the back, I turned to Freya and said, ‘I wanted to buy you something.’

‘Buy me what?’ Her face had gone very pink. ‘Because if you’re thinking that rubber mask thing over there then—’

‘I want to buy you something pretty and frilly and sexy,’ I said very deliberately. ‘Something feminine. Something that’s just for you. I’d also like you to choose something that we can both find pleasurable.’

She blinked, glancing at the rails of pretty lingerie and then the cases full of jewellery. At the crops and whips displayed on the wall, and the leather restraints displayed nearby. ‘Um…’

I watched her face, saw the doubt and anxiety flicker across her familiar features. ‘I don’t go for hardcore stuff,’ I said, addressing the anxiety at least. ‘So don’t worry about that. This needs to be something you’d like too.’

She looked back at me. ‘And if I don’t like any of it?’

I’d prepared for her refusal and I knew what I was going to say. ‘Then you don’t have to. But—’ I paused, holding her gaze ‘—I would love to see you in something pretty, Little. Because I think you would love it too.’

She shifted on her feet, clearly uncomfortable. ‘I don’t like this kind of stuff, E, you know that. I don’t like shopping and girly things…’ She faltered, her gaze sliding to the rails again.

‘Yeah, I think you don’t like it because of all the bullshit your aunt put in your head. I think you’d love to put on some pretty lingerie for me, to get yourself feeling all sexy and hot just to tease me.’

She continued to stare at the clothing on the rails, the flush in her cheeks deepening. ‘None of these things are going to fit me…’

It was strange how much I wanted her to do this for me. Or maybe it wasn’t strange. Maybe I only wanted her to be able to see herself the way I saw her—tall and strong and beautiful. A complete fucking goddess. I wanted to get all that shit her aunt kept telling her right the hell out of her head.

‘Yeah, they will. All the lingerie in the store right now is your size.’

That made her look sharply at me. ‘What?’

‘I made certain that everything on the rails right now is stuff that fits you.’ It had been a precaution; I wanted nothing in here that might potentially get in the way of her enjoyment of this. And I knew if she allowed herself this she would enjoy it.

And so would I.

Her gaze narrowed. ‘How?’

‘I asked them to.’ I allowed myself a slight smile. ‘One of the benefits of being a billionaire.’

Freya snorted, but when she looked around again her gaze was more appraising.

‘Well?’ I didn’t want her to know how much I wanted her to say yes. Shit, I didn’t know how much I wanted her to until this moment. ‘Or will I have to order you to do it?’

She turned that appraising look on me. ‘You’d like to see me in something like this? Pretty lingerie?’

‘Yes.’ I shoved my hands into the pockets of my jeans. ‘In fact, right now, there’s nothing I’d like better.’

‘Hmm.’ She gave me another look, making everything inside me draw strangely tight. ‘I guess I could try something on.’

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Freya

HE LIKED THAT. I saw it in his eyes, the familiar blue spark of desire catching alight. And that made me feel good too.

In fact, the past couple of days had involved nothing but pleasing him by going on the trips he’d organised for me. And when I knew I’d pleased him I felt pleased too. It was a little closed circuit of pleasing each other, the good feelings flowing back and forth between us in perfect harmony.

Of course, it wasn’t only about pleasing him. I’d really enjoyed the trip to the Tower and Windsor Castle. And it had been super cool to be on the yacht at night, watching the lights of Tower Bridge move overhead as we went underneath it, feeling his fingers close around mine as he held my hand. And the theme park had been amazing. I’d decided I’d let him arrange the trips, but under no circumstances was he to buy me anything and…well, I’d caved as soon as I’d seen some cool wands. They’d been expensive—nothing I’d normally buy for myself—and he’d been very pleased to get them for me and so I…simply hadn’t objected.

But this…this felt different. This wasn’t a souvenir of a cool place or tickets to a tourist attraction, but something I would wear. Something specifically designed to make me look sexy. Oh, yeah, and pretty and feminine too.

I didn’t know why I felt uncomfortable about it. Actually, no, I did know. It was all exactly as Everett had said. It was about the bullshit my aunt had put in my head about my size and my height. How unlike a woman I was, as if that was something to be ashamed of. And I’d thought I’d got over that years ago, that I was comfortable with myself, but…yeah, I wasn’t. And the thought of putting on lingerie, of trying to be pretty and sexy for Everett…

The way Everett was looking at me was very intense. He’d said it would make him happy and I could see that he hoped I would do this.

I didn’t want to make a big deal of it. We only had another couple of days to go anyway so…why not? And the truth was I was kind of excited to do it. Everything here was in my size, which meant I wouldn’t have the humiliating experience I’d had as a kid of being way too big for their biggest size, and my aunt rolling her eyes as I told her nothing here fitted me. ‘You’ll need an adult size then,’ she’d said. ‘That’s going to be expensive.’

That was me. The size of an adult woman at twelve and ‘expensive’.

Breaking his intent stare, I turned and went over to one of the rails, looking through the sets on the hangers. They were…pretty. Very pretty. In lots of different colours, some lacy and some not. Silk and satin and velvet. Bows and hearts and sequins.

I liked them, I realised. And more than that, I wanted to wear them. I wanted to put them on and see what I looked like. And then I wanted to turn around and watch Everett’s face as he saw me in them.

A hot streak of desire spiked in my blood, my mouth going dry at the thought. Would he like what he saw?

You know he will.

Yeah, he liked my naked body and he’d never made any secret of how much. The way he looked at me, the way he touched me, making me feel beautiful and sexy and feminine…

Oh, hell. Why was I hesitating? He was going to love this.

My hesitation disappeared and I gave him a flirty look from over my shoulder. ‘Anything in particular you want to see?’

His blue gaze burned as it met mine. ‘Something really skimpy. And lacy and frilly.’

‘They’re all lacy and frilly.’

‘Then anything.’

Guys. They were all the same.

Smiling, I turned back to the rail and took a handful of hangers off, then headed toward the very luxurious-looking fitting rooms. Each of them had stained glass doors that cleverly hid most of what was going on behind them, while revealing enough to be a little sexy and provocative.

There was a couch opposite, upholstered in rich gold velvet, and Everett sprawled down in it, stretching his long legs out, his gaze on me. ‘You don’t need to close the door,’ he suggested. ‘I told the shop assistant to take some time off. It’s just you and me in here.’

I grinned, stepping into the fitting room. ‘Bold of you to assume that I’d be into just you and me being here.’

He gave me a very intent look. ‘Fortune favours the brave.’

A shiver went down my spine. A very good shiver. Because if there was something I knew about Everett Calhoun it was that he was both brave and bold and, given that we were alone in here, I was thinking he wasn’t going to let me leave without at least ordering me to do something to him.

Well, I was more than okay with that.

Firmly closing the door—he could use a little anticipation—I stripped off my clothes and held up the first piece of nothing. Green silk and gold lace that hid precisely zero. I pulled a face but telling myself nothing ventured, nothing gained, I pulled it on.

It fitted beautifully, just as he’d promised. But it was very revealing. It was mostly just lace so my nipples were clearly visible and so was my pussy, the bit of string between my butt cheeks not covering a damn thing. The waistband had a frill, which seemed utterly pointless, and for a second I caught myself wondering what the hell I was doing putting this crap on.

But I shoved the thought aside. I was doing this for Everett, because he would take pleasure in it, and not for any other reason.

There was a full-length mirror inside the fitting room but I didn’t look at it. I wanted him to see me first.

Taking a breath, I pushed the door open and stepped out into the store.

As soon as he saw me his eyes went wide, the blue spark igniting into flame, and the doubts that had settled in my head were abruptly gone. His hands went to the couch cushions as if to push himself up and out, but I held up a finger. ‘Uh-uh,’ I murmured. ‘You stay there.’

I didn’t expect him to do as I said, yet he froze, staring at me. Then, after a second, he relaxed back against the cushions, his gaze moving in a slow, steady sweep over my body. ‘Are you gonna tease me, Little? Push me? See how far you can take me with that sexy body of yours?’

There was so much appreciation in his look, in the husky sound of his voice that any remaining shreds of doubt vanished.

I took a couple of steps toward him then stopped. ‘Oh, dear, I think I dropped something,’ I murmured. Then I bent down, letting my plait fall over one shoulder, giving him a really good view of my cleavage, before straightening again.

He was sitting there, ostensibly relaxed, but I could see the tension in his posture. I could also see the rapidly growing bulge in his jeans.

I smiled, slow and sexy, coming close to him before moving around him, reaching out to trail a casual finger across his chest and then, as I walked behind the couch, across his shoulders. ‘Is this frilly and sexy enough for you?’

He turned to watch me, tracking my movements as I circled around the other side of the couch. There was a hungry expression on his face and he reached out as I came to stand in front of him again, his palm possessively cupping the back of my calf. His skin was hot, the touch sending electricity crackling through me.

‘Tease,’ he growled. ‘There’ll be trouble if you keep doing that.’

Anticipation had begun to coil deep inside me, making my breathing get faster. I could see how much he was enjoying this and it made everything feel so much more intense for me too. And it was becoming very, very clear how much I enjoyed pleasing him. Because in pleasing him I was pleasing myself.

‘Uh-uh, no touching,’ I murmured. ‘Not unless you don’t want the blow job I have planned for you.’

He gave another growl but let me go, and I grinned, backing away toward the fitting rooms again.

Once the door was closed I took a shaky breath, feeling the burn of excitement coursing through me. Then I turned around and looked at myself in the mirror, trying to see what he saw.

A tall redhead in frilly green and gold lingerie, pale skin, pink nipples and the flash of red curls between my thighs. My cheeks were flushed and there was a definite sparkle in my eyes.

I looked… Yeah, okay, I looked sexy. I certainly felt sexy, especially remembering how intensely Everett had stared at me.

Reaching behind me, I pulled the elastic band out of my plait and shook out my hair, letting it fall in thick red curls down my back. I didn’t need my hair down to look sexy, I realised, but it was nice to have it free, nice to have the brush of it on my skin, enhancing all the other sensations.

Excited now, I carefully took off the green and gold silk, then reached for a teddy in deep blue silk. Again, it was basically lace, my body completely visible beneath it. There must have been some kind of silver thread in the lace because there was a slight shimmer to it, a sheen that followed my curves as I moved.

Holy crap, Everett was going to love this one as well.

I turned once more and pulled open the door, putting my hands on my hips and striking a sexy pose that for once wasn’t ironic.

He was sitting forward on the couch, his fingers loosely linked between his knees. It looked casual but the way his gaze raked over me was anything but.

‘Fuck,’ he muttered and there was even a note of reverence in his voice.

I strutted over to him, getting right up close, daring him to touch me. And he did, putting out one of those big warm hands and sliding it up my hip and along my side, his fingers brushing the underside of my breast.

‘Oh, dear,’ I murmured, shivering under his touch. ‘That’s not allowed. Do that again and there’ll be no blow job for you.’

There was fire in his eyes, the dominant nature I’d grown to adore rousing—and rousing hard. But he was obviously getting off on me teasing him because he did what I said, pulling his hand back. ‘Doesn’t work that way, baby,’ he said roughly. ‘Giving me orders is only going to end in a spanking.’

I blew him a kiss. ‘Promises, promises.’

Beginning to back away toward the fitting room again for the next change, I was brought up short by his hand wrapping around the back of my knee, his gaze bright and blue and sharp. ‘You don’t need the fitting room. Change right here in front of me.’

Another streak of heat shot through me, but all I did was raise an eyebrow. ‘Haven’t you ever heard of the benefit of anticipation?’

Apparently, though, I’d come up against one of his boundaries because he only shook his head. ‘Do it.’

In spite of myself, I looked toward the door of the store because, even though we were the only ones here, it was still a store. And people could come in at any time. The windows were curtained, but still…

‘Don’t worry about them,’ Everett ordered in a low voice. ‘The only person you have to worry about is me. And how to please me. And right now what would please me is to watch you strip naked in front of me.’

My breath caught and I was pushing the straps of the teddy off my shoulders before I knew what I was doing, easing it down and stepping out of it.

Everett leaned back on the couch, his gaze sweeping over me and lighting fires wherever it rested. ‘Beautiful. Absolutely fucking gorgeous.’ He didn’t take his eyes from me. ‘On the rail closest to the fitting room is a sexy gold playsuit. I want you to put it on for me.’

I blinked. Okay, it was something I hadn’t picked up yet he’d obviously had it in mind for me.

Over the past few days he’d conditioned me into obeying him so I turned without protest and went over to the rail, conscious of the air moving over my bare skin and the silky rugs on the floor under my feet.

It was instantly clear which particular item he was talking about.

It seemed to be made of nothing but gold ribbon that fastened behind the neck and travelled down the body in a kind of harness linked by gold hoops. Delicate golden chains adorned with crystals were fastened between the ribbons, clearly designed to highlight a woman’s curves.

It was beautiful and delicate and I was sure I’d break it the second I stepped into it.

‘I can’t wear that,’ I said, holding it up and looking at the delicate structure. ‘I’ll destroy it as soon as I put it on.’

‘No, you won’t.’ His voice was a deep rumble of sound behind me.

‘E, come on. I’ll—’

‘I had it made especially for you.’

The words fell into the space around me, each one echoing weirdly. He’d had it made…for me? This beautiful, delicate thing was actually for me?

Slowly, I turned around, forgetting entirely that I was naked, meeting his intense blue stare. ‘What?’

His stare didn’t even flicker. ‘When I said everything is in your size I meant they were made for your measurements. And that includes the playsuit.’

I didn’t know why that felt confronting, but it did.

‘E, that’s stupid. Come on—’

‘Bring it here.’

There was no resisting him when he was in full-on Dom mode, at least not for me, and I found myself walking over to him before I could even think twice about it.

When I reached him, he took the playsuit from me, divested it of its hanger and held it up for me to step into. There was something about the way his strong capable hands held it, carefully and delicately, that made my whole body tighten.

He was looking at me with that challenge in his eyes, the one I recognised whenever he gave me an order he knew I wouldn’t like. Daring me to do it.

And the tight feeling in my body crept all the way up to my heart.

He’d done this for me. He’d filled this store with pretty, frilly things that were made just for me. Not for anyone the same size as me, but for me. They were mine.

I’d never had anyone do that for me before. Not one single person. Not since my mother had died.

My eyes felt scratchy, like there was sand underneath my lids, and my throat ached. It was stupid how a store full of tailor-made lingerie made me feel this way, but it did. And of course it would be him, because he was Everett and he’d always cared.

Then something in his expression softened, as if he could see the ridiculous emotional moment I was having. ‘You’re going to look so beautiful in this,’ he said quietly. ‘I can’t wait to see it on you.’

Still, I hesitated, desperately trying to swallow the massive lump in my throat.

And this time Everett didn’t issue any orders. He only said, ‘Please, Freya. For me.’

It was the ‘For me’ that did it. Because, of course, I’d do anything for him.

‘Give it here,’ I said thickly.

Everett shook his head. ‘Let me.’

How could I say no to that?

Trying to pull myself together, I let out a breath and put my hands on his shoulders to steady myself as I stepped into the delicate structure of chains and ribbons and crystals. His hands were gentle, smoothing the ribbons against my skin and adjusting the chains, handling me this time as if I was just as delicate as the playsuit he was dressing me in, and for some reason that made my eyes prickle. Those hands could be rough and hard, delivering both pain and pleasure, yet I hadn’t thought they could be gentle too. Holding me as if I were a precious thing.

I blinked hard, trying to ignore my flailing emotions as he settled the metal bits against my skin, then adjusted a few things before fastening the ribbon that connected it all together behind my head. Then he sat back and began to carefully arrange the chains so they framed my breasts and curved around my hips, before spinning me around and arranging them to drape over the curve of my butt.

Then he spun me around again so I was facing him and leaned back on the couch, his gaze travelling over me achingly slowly, from my knees all the way up my body until he was looking straight into my eyes. ‘You,’ he said simply, ‘are a fucking goddess.’

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Everett

I KNEW THE moment we’d walked into the store she was going to look fantastic. And she did. The chains lay against her pale skin, beautifully framing her perfect tits and the curve of her hips and thighs. The crystals glittered in the light and the chains gleamed, drawing attention to every female part of her, from her hard, pointed nipples to the fiery curls between her thighs, again framed by the chains and ribbon that circled the top of each thigh. Red hair cascaded over her shoulders and her eyes gleamed like emeralds.

Sensual. Beautiful. Powerful. Intensely female.

But she was more than that. She’d put that bodysuit on, even though she didn’t want to, even though I hadn’t ordered her to, and she’d done it for me. Because I’d asked her to.

I was so fucking hard I ached, but that wasn’t the only thing aching as I’d carefully adjusted the bodysuit against her skin. There had been tears in her eyes when I’d told her that everything in this store was for her, and I could see how much that had meant to her. It had made my chest ache, and it shouldn’t.

We only had another couple of days together like this and afterwards that would be it. We’d go back to being friends again. But the way she’d looked at me, those tears in her eyes… Shit, could we ever go back to being just friends?

You don’t want just friendship from her, admit it.

I forced that thought away and ignored the aching sensation in my chest. Because it was a moot point anyway. I couldn’t offer her anything more than friendship and that was the bottom line. It had always been the bottom line.

She might think I wasn’t my old man’s son through and through, but she didn’t know what I’d done to him. And she’d never know, because I couldn’t bear her to look at me differently. I couldn’t afford for her vision of me to change, because then I’d have nothing to aim for. Nothing to aspire to. Nothing to live up to.

I needed her to believe that I was a good man, because if she didn’t then all that was left for me was that potential, the seed of violence I knew was planted deep inside me. That would grow if there was nothing to keep it at bay.

‘See?’ I said roughly, looking into her pretty face, letting my total and utter admiration and appreciation of her show. ‘It didn’t break. And you look incredible.’

She flushed, the chains glittering along with her heightened breathing. ‘I’m a bit afraid to move in case they do.’

‘But they won’t.’ I nodded toward the fitting room. ‘Go and look at yourself in the mirror.’

‘E—’

‘Please.’ I didn’t often say that word, but it came all too easily with her. ‘I want you to see what I see when I look at you.’

She let out a breath, clearly reluctant. But then turned toward the fitting room and walked slowly into it. Yeah, she was doing all of this for me, making the pressure in my chest get even worse.

I wanted to see what was in her eyes when she finally saw her reflection, so I pushed myself out of the couch, coming to stand behind her as she looked at herself in the fitting room mirror.

A crease appeared between her brows as she stared at it, and she bit her lip, the crease deepening the more she stared. I took another couple of steps until I was close and then I trailed my fingers down her sides, disturbing the chains and making them glitter, sending the crystals swinging. ‘See how the ribbon and chains outline and frame your curves?’ I murmured. ‘And here…’ I lifted my hands to her breasts, cupping the warm weight of them gently. The chains pulled over her nipples and she shivered. ‘See how they frame your breasts too? You look stunning.’

Moisture glittered on the ends of her lashes, powerful emotions shifting in her green eyes as she met my gaze in the mirror.

I stilled. ‘Little…’

‘No one ever did anything like this, E,’ she said, her voice soft and faintly hoarse-sounding. ‘No one ever did anything that was for me, to make me happy. To make me feel good. Aunt Helen only did things for me when she was forced to and she was always pissed off about it. And I know why. She didn’t want her sister’s kid forced on her and I don’t blame her. She already had three kids of her own, and then she got lumped with me.’

My chest felt like a boulder was sitting on it, because the pain in Freya’s face I could feel inside myself too, a stab right through my heart.

She’d always told me she didn’t care about her aunt’s opinion of her, but I’d known how much bullshit that was. So I’d tried over the years to do things for her so she knew that I fucking cared about her and that her aunt’s opinion mattered for shit. But it was hard to help someone who kept insisting there was no problem.

Except right now, here, that insistence was gone, and the fact that she cared, and cared deeply, was written all over her face.

I settled my palms on her stomach, pulling her close, holding her against me so she was in no doubt. So there would never be any doubt ever a-fucking-gain. ‘Well, you didn’t get lumped with me,’ I said flatly. ‘I chose you to be my friend, Freya Johnson. And I will always choose you. Every single fucking time.’

Her eyes were liquid, glittering like the jewels on the chains against her skin. ‘Why? Why would you do that?’ She sounded like she genuinely didn’t know. ‘Why the hell would anyone want me?’

I stared at her, a hot, fierce sensation sitting in my gut. ‘Haven’t you been listening? Haven’t you heard a single word I’ve said to you over the years? What your honesty and your humour and your loyalty have meant to me?’

Red crept through her skin. ‘I…’

‘No, you haven’t. Because you’re too busy telling yourself you’re fine. Too busy telling yourself you don’t give a shit. Too busy listening to other people who don’t care about you when you should have been listening to the people who do.’ The words were far too strong and far too vehement, but they were out now and I couldn’t take them back.

Freya stared at me in the mirror a second longer, her green eyes shimmering. Then, abruptly, she turned in my arms and looked up at me as if she didn’t trust the reflection she saw in the mirror. ‘E—’

‘You ground me, Little.’ I cut her off because I couldn’t seem to stop the words from pouring out. ‘You give me shit when I need my ego checked. And you stand by me when I need support. And you’re sexy as fuck.’ I lifted my hands and cupped her face. ‘The question isn’t why would I want you. The question is why wouldn’t I want you?’

She took a short, sharp breath, the expression on her face full of some powerful emotion that I didn’t understand. Then, without warning, she rose on her toes, her hands sliding to the back of my neck, and she brought my head down so she was kissing me, hot and deep and desperate, pressing that gorgeous body of hers against me as if she’d die if she didn’t touch me.

This wasn’t about simple friendship any more, and I knew it. Could taste it in her kiss and in the craving that suddenly gripped me tight. A craving that demanded more, far more, than that. A craving that demanded nothing less than total and complete possession.

I should have pulled back then. Put her from me and walked away.

But I didn’t, because I couldn’t. The only thing I wanted was her and so I took her, pushing my fingers into her silky hair before I could stop myself, cradling the back of her skull. Then I kissed her back just as desperately as she was, my tongue in her mouth, tasting, exploring. Demanding. She gave a moan and the kiss turned even more desperate, feverish. She kissed me like she was starving, like she couldn’t breathe and I was her air, and that wouldn’t have been a problem if the dominant side of me had stepped in to control the situation.

The problem was, I didn’t seem to have a dominant side any more.

I was all dominant. I wanted to be that air. I wanted to be the one who gave her fucking life, the one she turned to, not only for fun and friendship, but for help and for comfort. For pleasure and release.

For everything.

I wanted to be everything for her, the way she was everything for me.

I wanted her to be mine. Mine and only mine.

Something roared to life inside me in that second, something I’d been trying to keep locked down and under control, that simply burst the chains I’d kept on it and tore through me like a fucking wildfire.

I picked her up in my arms and took her back to the couch outside the fitting room. I sat down with her in my lap, kissing her desperately the whole time as I reached for my wallet in my back pocket and the condoms that were in it. Her hands were already dealing with the button and zipper of my jeans, clawing at them, because apparently she was as hungry for me as I was for her.

I ripped open the condom packet with my teeth and slid one on. Then I gripped my cock in one hand and put the other on her hip, adjusting her so her pussy was right where I wanted it. Then I thrust in hard, watching her face as I did so, her green eyes going wide and dark, a sharp breath escaping her as I slid in deep.

She felt so good. Hot. Tight. Wet. The muscles of her pussy clenching around me, holding me to her. Her face was flushed, the colour of her eyes so vivid, and she stared at me as if I was the only thing in her entire universe.

And I wanted to be the only thing in her entire universe. I wanted nothing and nobody else to be there but me.

Freya, my best friend. My lover. Mine.

I took her mouth hard, my fingers digging into her hips as I thrust up into her, and she tried to move with me, her hands gripping my upper arms for balance. It should have been slow and sensuous—at least that was what I’d intended it to be. I’d wanted to play with those sexy chains, scrape them over her nipples and press them against her clit, drive her wild. But the fire blazing in my veins wouldn’t allow it.

My fingers were gripping her so tightly I knew I’d leave bruises on her delicate skin, but I lifted her up and brought her down hard on my hungry cock. The sound of her flesh meeting mine was loud in the silence of the store, and she was panting. I brought her back down on me harder, at the same time as I thrust up, angling her hips so she could take me deeper. The feel of her around me was indescribably good and yet it wasn’t enough.

There was a roaring in my head, the ache in my chest getting worse and worse even as the pleasure built higher and higher, a bonfire inside me. The raw possessive need for her was suddenly overwhelming.

She was mine. All mine. And I would make sure of it.

I moved, needing her beneath me, pulling out of her and pushing her off my lap and onto her back on the couch. Then I hooked one leg then the other over my shoulders, shoving myself inside her again. She gasped, her hands moving to my chest as I leaned forward to grip the arm of the couch, sliding as deep into her as I could get. Then I began to fuck her—and not gently, because the feeling inside me wasn’t gentle.

It was a raw and savage need that I couldn’t control like I knew I should have, and I was blind to everything but the desire to possess her utterly.

Another woman might have protested, but Freya didn’t. Her hands slid to my shoulders, her nails digging into my skin, and she shifted and bucked beneath me, trying to fuck me as hard as I was fucking her. There was a wild light in her green eyes, her teeth bared, and she was panting.

I’d never seen anything so beautiful.

‘You’re mine,’ I growled down at her, pinning her with my weight to keep her still. ‘You’re fucking mine.’

‘Yes,’ she gasped, her body straining as she tried to move. ‘I am. Always.’

The satisfaction was so intense I leaned down and stopped her mouth with mine, kissing her, biting at her lower lip as I shoved myself inside her, deeper, faster. Because of course she was mine and now she knew it too.

The pleasure was becoming unbearable now, and I only just had the presence of mind to slip my hand down between her slick thighs to find her clit, to apply some pressure and some friction, making her stiffen and arch upwards as the orgasm hit her.

Then it was hitting me too, like a fucking freight train, and I was shoving myself into her as the pleasure exploded like a bomb in my head, my hands hard on her as I proceeded to lose what was left of my goddamned mind.

I lost myself for long minutes afterwards, feeling like I’d been hit with a baseball bat, my head ringing, my heart shuddering inside my chest.

What the hell happened to you?

I’d lost control of myself. That was what had happened. And it hadn’t been anger that had been the catalyst, not this time, but good old-fashioned lust.

No. It wasn’t lust.

A cold thread wound through me because I knew deep down that of course it hadn’t been lust. We’d done nothing but have sex for the past three days and I hadn’t lost it like this before.

You know what it is.

But I didn’t want to think about that, so I shoved it aside as I felt her squirm beneath me, pushing myself back to give her some room and also so I could see her.

She was looking up at me, her gaze brilliant, her face flushed. But the delicate bodysuit of hers was a wreck. Some of the chains had broken and the ribbon had snapped. A few of the crystals had come loose and were embedded in her soft skin, leaving marks. Scratches. All signs of the control I’d lost.

What the fuck were you thinking? You know how dangerous that is.

The cold thread wound tighter, the boulder sitting on my chest getting heavier and heavier.

‘Wow,’ Freya breathed, looking up at me. ‘That was…’ Then she stopped and frowned. ‘Hey, what’s up?’

I was good at controlling my expressions, but clearly not good enough. Shit. The last thing I wanted to do was explain any of this to her. Not the heavy feeling sitting in the centre of my chest, the knowledge that something was wrong. Something I should have held tight to, that I’d let go.

And I knew what happened when I let go. My dad, bloody on the floor and smiling at me like he’d finally seen something in me that pleased him, that made him proud.

‘Real chip off the old block, aren’t you, son?’

The ache in my chest became a crushing pain that I dealt with by ignoring it completely.

‘Nothing,’ I said shortly. ‘I’m afraid I ruined your pretty playsuit.’ I began to ease myself away from her, only to have her reach for my wrist, her fingers circling around it to hold me where I was.

‘E, you said you wanted honesty from me.’ Her grip on me tightened, her gaze searching my face. ‘But you need to be honest with me too. What’s going on?’

Ah, shit. What the hell was I going to do now? I didn’t want to talk about this crap with her. Not here, not now. Pretty much never.

Gently, I disengaged her fingers from my wrist and moved off her, getting up off the couch and getting rid of the condom in a wastebasket near the counter. ‘I’m pissed off that I ruined your suit.’ I kept my attention on doing up my jeans. ‘That’s all.’

‘No, that’s not all.’ She pushed herself off the couch, seemingly not at all bothered by the remains of the playsuit that left her pretty much naked. ‘What’s the problem? The suit presumably you can replace. It’s not as if you’re strapped for cash.’

I finished doing up my jeans then looked at her. ‘I’m not having this discussion now. I’m going to get all of this packed up and sent to the hotel—’

‘E,’ Freya interrupted and there was a note in her voice that stopped me cold. ‘Why are you lying to me?’

‘I’m not lying,’ I snapped, knowing I sounded petulant but unable to help it. ‘What the fuck does that matter, anyway?’

‘It matters because you matter, Everett.’ Her gaze was as direct and honest and brave as she was. ‘And I know something’s wrong. I saw it in your eyes just before. So why don’t you tell me? Please.’

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