K. Bromberg - Slow Burn

What in the hell did he do to me? No one orders me around unless his hand is fisted in my hair and he’s fucking me from behind. But this … this reaction he’s caused in me is unsettling. It has to be everything else that’s going on that’s making me react this way. It has to be the unknown and the waiting that makes me want to jump at the chance to go wherever he’s taking me just so I can push all of that away for a bit.

“What?” I’m finally able to speak as I shove the desire away and as guilty as I feel about how I’ve treated him, I refuse to comply with his demand in some warped form of apology. I take a deep breath as I regain the rights Gloria Steinem fought for and cross my arms across my chest and lean against the door behind me. “ We are not going anywhere.” I snort at him like he’s crazy, but hell if my eyes aren’t dragging up over his khaki shorts and Under Armor shirt, which offers just enough of a hint at the muscles bunching beneath it.

He steps forward and places one arm on the door beside my head and braces himself there, his head angled to look at me, a lascivious smirk ghosting that irresistible mouth of his. He laughs low and taunting. “Well, that’s where you’re wrong, City. We are most definitely taking a drive.”

I start to protest when he cuts me off by placing his free hand on the curve of my neck and holding it there. I swear my body ignites with bursts of energy whenever our skin touches, the tiny explosions trailing straight to my core so that the ache intensifies and my need swelters.

“And correct me if I’m wrong here, but you’ve made it clear that there is no we , so that leaves me to make the decisions.” He darts out his tongue to wet his lips, his eyes holding me captive from getting out the words I want to say. “Oh, sweet Haddie, you may have said no strings, but sure as hell I’m taking over the reins here.”

“Bullshit.” The word is off my tongue, but it is such a contradiction to the hardening of my nipples and the tingling between my thighs in reaction to his comment.

“Don’t tempt me.” He warns, but then that smirk is back. “Then again, please do because I’d give anything to throw you back over my shoulder to prove a point.”

Our eyes hold, a silent exchange of wills seeing how far we’re going to take this game, and I’m all for it. Bring it on, Daniels, because let’s face it: I have a vagina; therefore I win. My temper streaks through me, displacing the desire with anger, sarcasm leading the way. “SoCo, you couldn’t handle me even if you tried.” I raise my chin and glare at him, anything to try to gain some of my own footing back.

He works his tongue in his mouth and I swear I can’t help that it conjures up the memory of where else it’s worked me. “SoCo, huh?”

“Yeah. You’re like drinking Southern Comfort … trying to act all smooth and steady, but then you sneak up on me and try to make your presence known.” I say the words with a bit of a bite to them, so I’m confused when he blinks at me like he can’t believe what I’m saying before throwing his head back and laughing deeply. Whatever he finds amusing in what I’ve said is lost on me.

“Goddamn woman,” he draws out with a shake of his head before looking back at me. “I’m all for whiskey, but I prefer something a little smoother, more refined … like a Macallan.” The smirk plays over his lips like an inside joke that I’m missing, even though I feel like I’m a part of it.

My brows furrow. “Being country and all …” My words fade off as he steps into me, our bodies so close that our chests just barely brush against each other’s when we drag in a breath.

“Well, Had, being country and all, I was raised around and got used to wild animals.” He leans in closer so that his lips are a breath from mine, and I can’t help myself from lifting my chin in anticipation of his kiss, which never comes. I flash my eyes back open to find his so close to mine, I can see flecks of darker blue speckled in the aqua. “I learned that you have to learn a lot of patience to tame them.”

I know I should be offended, know I should be pissed he’s drawing a comparison between me and an untamed animal, but hell if I can think of a comeback other than: “Tame them?” My words mingle with the warmth of his breath, and as we stand here on my front porch, it feels like we’re the only two people in the world.

“Mm-hmm,” he murmurs, and just lets the comment hang in the air between us. “But I learned a long time ago that no man should tame what is wild.”

“Really?”

His fingertip trails down my bare arm, slowly, taunting, knowing exactly what he’s doing to me. “Yep,” he whispers so that his lips just barely brush mine. I want to groan out in frustration but grasp firmly to my dignity that’s slipping oh so slowly from my clutches. “Wild keeps a man on his toes … causes him to always pay attention, not take a single thing for granted. When a man gets complacent, he can lose sight of what matters most.”

My breath is shaky, his soft spoken words hitting deep within me. Making me want and need and hope for things I don’t think I deserve, things I’ve told myself are not fair to ask for.

“Becks …” I swallow over what I tell myself is the lust lodged in my throat, but I know it’s so much more than just lust between us.

He moves his head so that his lips are near my ear, causing me to remember what they said the last time they were so close. “Did you come yet, Haddie?” The change of subject shouldn’t surprise me. I should have known he was going to bring us back to this, but fuck me if that question doesn’t leave me weak in the knees.

“Yes. Thank you for last night. It may have been my hand, but my thoughts were on you … and it was mind-blowing.” I lie. It’s all I have at this point because if we continue this little power play charade, I’m going to be in a puddle at his feet in mere minutes. And hell no, I didn’t get myself off, didn’t want to ease that ache he’d ordered me not to assuage because there is something so goddamn hot about doing what you’re told when it comes to sex.

I hear his breath catch in surprise, his fingers pressing into my arm where they trail along my skin, and his face pulls back so he can look in my eyes. It’s my turn to give him that smug look, that “Who has the upper hand now?” challenge in the raise of my eyebrows. His eyes search mine, and I know before long he’ll know I’m lying, so I reiterate my thoughts from moments ago. My lips curl up, and my head angles to the side. “I have a pussy. I win,” I taunt him. And I think a small part of me wants him to call my bluff, right here, right now, and drag him upstairs to prove otherwise.

But he doesn’t. He just meets me stare for stare, smirk for smirk, challenge for challenge. “While you may have a point, I think you’re wrong. You may have the pussy, Haddie, but I’m most definitely the one who will win it.”

“Pretty sure of yourself, aren’t you?” And hell if the confidence isn’t sexy on him.

“Hm. You may have said no strings, but you most definitely didn’t say anything about rope.”

Damn. “You want to tie me up, then? I never took you for that type, Becks.” I try to deflect him with my comment, but hell if the words don’t have me wanting him even more.

He laughs low and suggestive. “I might be. I might not be. What type I am doesn’t matter because what does is the fact that ropes or no ropes, I plan on making you weak, making you hoarse, leaving you breathless. Baby, I can dominate with the best of them. The question here is, how bad do you want it?”

Desperately .

And the volley of power resumes. The dark promise of his words leaves me wanting to relinquish the upper hand because it’s no fun being at the top if there’s no one underneath you.