her nipples once he had her breasts bound. His fingers would be hard
and punishing.
“Please, Mick,” she whispered as she turned the other vibrator on—this one a small
pink textured vibe. It was long, narrow, but had a powerful buzz she loved.
Squeezing her sex so the bullet would stay put, she touched a fingertip to one hard
nipple, squeezed her breast, kneaded it, finally drew out her nipple between her fingers.
Then, pinching hard at the base, she touched the tip of the vibrator to her sensitive
flesh.
She moaned, did it again, just brushing her taut nipple, the electric shivers running
through her body joining with the vibrations deep inside her sex.
Her climax hovered, but she bit it back. For him.
She breathed in, held the air in her lungs, held on as long as she could. But in moments
Mick’s face, his words, the shivering vibrators, did their job. She pinched her nipple
hard as she came, pleasure exploding in her body, in her head. Stars whirled behind
her closed eyelids. Mick’s face was there, his big hands. His deep voice commanding
her to come harder.
She did, her hips jerking until she had to press her fingers to her clenching pussy
to keep the bullet inside her.
“Oh, God . . . Mick . . .”
Even his name was hot on her lips. And before her climax could fade away, another
began, shaking her, making her sob his name.
“Mick!”
The long vibrator slipped from her hand, but it didn’t matter. It was knowing she
was going to him, and oh, God, the things he was going to do to her. That alone was
enough to make her come.
Finally her body calmed and she pulled the bullet from her sex, switched it off. She
sank to her knees on the hard porcelain, trying to catch her breath as the cool water
poured over her.
It was never going to be enough. Because it was Mick. Even once they were playing
together, when the fantasies in her head were finally brought to life, would that
be enough for her?
She didn’t know. He was intoxicating. Dangerous. She hadn’tknown the truth of it until she’d seen him again. She hadn’t known exactly what that
man could do to her body simply by talking to her, by just being
himself
. And how much more powerful would his effect on her be when she was naked beneath
his hands? When she was vulnerable in subspace?
For the first time she had to question the viability of her plan. Maybe she was crazy
to think she could be with Mick. Be with him, if he was not going to . . . what?
“If he’s not going to love me,” she admitted, her voice a breathless whisper.
The water fell, echoing around her. She let the cold calm her.
No. She could do this. If Mick wouldn’t give her his heart, then at least she could
finally give him her body. All of it, with everything out on the table between them.
Except that she was still in love with him. That secret she would keep to herself.
CHAPTER
Three
M ICK LOCKED THE door to his flat and went downstairs. Moving out onto the quiet New Orleans street,
he jogged down the sidewalk. Nothing too fast, keeping an easy, even pace, warming
up for the workout he’d do once he reached the gym ten blocks away.
He needed the workout. Not only to keep in shape for his fights, but after seeing
Allie, his blood had been humming too damn fast. Too damn hot.
He needed to work her out of his system before she was in his hands.
A part of him could hardly believe he was going to have Allie at The Bastille. Under
his command. In his ropes. He was a bastard for agreeing to her crazy plan. But she
had the references. She obviously knew what she was getting into from the BDSM side
of things. She sure as hell didn’t know what she was getting into with
him
, no matter how many years they’d known each other.
He took a right down Esplanade Avenue, free of traffic and crowds this early in the
morning, heading toward the Faubourg Marigny. He picked up his pace, reveling in the
way his lungs
and punishing.
“Please, Mick,” she whispered as she turned the other vibrator on—this one a small
pink textured vibe. It was long, narrow, but had a powerful buzz she loved.
Squeezing her sex so the bullet would stay put, she touched a fingertip to one hard
nipple, squeezed her breast, kneaded it, finally drew out her nipple between her fingers.
Then, pinching hard at the base, she touched the tip of the vibrator to her sensitive
flesh.
She moaned, did it again, just brushing her taut nipple, the electric shivers running
through her body joining with the vibrations deep inside her sex.
Her climax hovered, but she bit it back. For him.
She breathed in, held the air in her lungs, held on as long as she could. But in moments
Mick’s face, his words, the shivering vibrators, did their job. She pinched her nipple
hard as she came, pleasure exploding in her body, in her head. Stars whirled behind
her closed eyelids. Mick’s face was there, his big hands. His deep voice commanding
her to come harder.
She did, her hips jerking until she had to press her fingers to her clenching pussy
to keep the bullet inside her.
“Oh, God . . . Mick . . .”
Even his name was hot on her lips. And before her climax could fade away, another
began, shaking her, making her sob his name.
“Mick!”
The long vibrator slipped from her hand, but it didn’t matter. It was knowing she
was going to him, and oh, God, the things he was going to do to her. That alone was
enough to make her come.
Finally her body calmed and she pulled the bullet from her sex, switched it off. She
sank to her knees on the hard porcelain, trying to catch her breath as the cool water
poured over her.
It was never going to be enough. Because it was Mick. Even once they were playing
together, when the fantasies in her head were finally brought to life, would that
be enough for her?
She didn’t know. He was intoxicating. Dangerous. She hadn’tknown the truth of it until she’d seen him again. She hadn’t known exactly what that
man could do to her body simply by talking to her, by just being
himself
. And how much more powerful would his effect on her be when she was naked beneath
his hands? When she was vulnerable in subspace?
For the first time she had to question the viability of her plan. Maybe she was crazy
to think she could be with Mick. Be with him, if he was not going to . . . what?
“If he’s not going to love me,” she admitted, her voice a breathless whisper.
The water fell, echoing around her. She let the cold calm her.
No. She could do this. If Mick wouldn’t give her his heart, then at least she could
finally give him her body. All of it, with everything out on the table between them.
Except that she was still in love with him. That secret she would keep to herself.
CHAPTER
Three
M ICK LOCKED THE door to his flat and went downstairs. Moving out onto the quiet New Orleans street,
he jogged down the sidewalk. Nothing too fast, keeping an easy, even pace, warming
up for the workout he’d do once he reached the gym ten blocks away.
He needed the workout. Not only to keep in shape for his fights, but after seeing
Allie, his blood had been humming too damn fast. Too damn hot.
He needed to work her out of his system before she was in his hands.
A part of him could hardly believe he was going to have Allie at The Bastille. Under
his command. In his ropes. He was a bastard for agreeing to her crazy plan. But she
had the references. She obviously knew what she was getting into from the BDSM side
of things. She sure as hell didn’t know what she was getting into with
him
, no matter how many years they’d known each other.
He took a right down Esplanade Avenue, free of traffic and crowds this early in the
morning, heading toward the Faubourg Marigny. He picked up his pace, reveling in the
way his lungs
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