Roni Loren - Caught Up In You

“You absolutely can,” he assured, some of the darkness and tension lifting from his face, hope replacing it. “So you’ll do it?”

Twenty-five grand would solve her most pressing issue with the snap of her fingers. She’d be able to move and get on her feet, find another job. One magical sweep of the money wand and it’d be done. Someone else fixing her problems for her again. The carrot danced in front of her at the end of that stick. And it looked mighty delicious.

But before she could reach out and take a bite, she thought back to her session yesterday with Hawk, the way she’d felt when he’d dropped that fifty-dollar bill on the table. Did she want to be bought by yet another man? Hired help? The little spark of pleasure she got when she was around Wyatt would be twisted and tainted once money got dumped into the mix. And that spark was the only pure thing in her life at the moment.

A menacing voice whispered in her head. You’re going to trust this guy, you stupid girl? You’ll be all alone with him. He could hurt you, Kelsey. It could be a trap like last time. Why else would someone like him want trash like you?

She swiped her damp palms on her pants and mentally gave Davis Ackerman’s ghost and his ugly whispers the finger. “I’m not taking your money, Wyatt.”

His mouth went slack. “What? If it’s about sharing a room, I can get a suite with a sofa sleeper—”

She shook her head and held up a palm, halting him. “You may be able to survive sharing a room for all that time. But I won’t.”

He clamped his mouth shut, his brows quirking upward.

“I’m not exactly in the market for a relationship either, you know. I’m not searching for some guy from the castle on top of the hill to come save me from my poor, peasant life. Up until that asshole dragged me into the alley, I was pretty damn happy with where I was. And now I’m just pissed that I have to turn everything upside down because of him.”

“I wasn’t trying to imply that—”

“I’m not done,” she said, shifting her feet back to the floor and leaning forward. “What I need is a job that pays more so that I can get away from this current mess and get back on track with my plans. And what I have to have in order to get that job is for a dom to put me through a month of sub training.”

He scowled. “With that fucking lumberjack.”

She smirked. Colby would love that nickname. “Maybe. Or maybe you and I could do an even exchange.”

“An exchange?” he asked, his tone growing wary.

“I’ll go with you to your retreat and be the best pretend girlfriend a guy could have.” Before she could think too hard on it and chicken out, she slid off the chair and onto the floor, her knees hitting the cool wood and her heart trying to pound right out of her chest. “And you knock the dust off your dominance and put me through my paces for the first week or so of this. After that, you can decide if you want to finish my training or send me back to Colby for the rest.”

He made some noise in the back of his throat, and she couldn’t tell if it was a pleased sound or a horrified one. “Kelsey, I don’t … I haven’t since college.”

She sensed fear there, resistance, but it was underscored by the pure need that flared in his irises. And that alone sent more heat through her than anything she’d experienced in years. “Were you any good, Mr. Austin?”

He closed his eyes, rubbing his brow bone, as if looking at her wasn’t allowing him to think properly. “I mentored under the best. He told me I was a natural.”

She didn’t doubt it. The man reeked of power and control. And she had a feeling Wyatt Austin didn’t do anything unless he could master it completely. “Why did you stop?”

His eyes snapped open at that, a veil sliding down between them, his whole demeanor going distant. “Things got too … intense. Kelsey, I don’t think I can—”

She scooted closer, sliding her hands onto his spread knees. His reluctance only added more fuel to her resolve. He was scared, too. “It won’t be easy for me either. It’s been a long while since I’ve been with any guy. And giving over control triggers a lot of old fears in me. But with you, I feel like maybe I could do it. Like I want to try.”

He looked down at her, conflicting emotions waging a battle in the set of his mouth, the clench of his jaw. He cupped her face. “You asking me this while on your knees in front of me is not even close to fair fighting.”

She let a slow smile curve her lips. This was what she loved about being around Wyatt. He didn’t see her as the fuckup or a trauma victim or even as a piece of ass. He saw her as a woman. He saw her . And the simplicity of that felt amazing, empowering. “A week away. We both get something we need and something I think we’ve both been wanting since the day you sat in my section. And at the end, I don’t expect anything of you, and you don’t expect anything of me. Clean finish.”

He traced her cheekbones with his thumbs, and the simple sensation rocketed through her. She rarely let subs touch her, and never without permission. But even a brush from Wyatt had her swallowing hard. “I’d be taking advantage of your situation.”

“Maybe I’m taking advantage of yours,” she countered. “I’m attracted to you. I wanted you to kiss me in the car that day. And I’ve wanted you to act on those looks you throw at me in the restaurant. I was just afraid to make a move because I figured you wouldn’t like what you saw behind the sweet, young waitress image you’d assigned to me.”

He gave a rueful smile. “You are young. And I still think you’re sweet.”

“I’m twenty-five.”

He groaned. “Christ. I’m more than a decade older than you.”

“Like that matters.” She let her hands slide farther up his thighs, growing bolder there at his feet. “And I promise you, I’m not as sweet as you think.”

His gaze devoured her, and he pressed his palms into the couch cushions, as if it was taking everything he had not to reach out and pillage. “I wasn’t an easy master. You need to know that. And if I open up that part of me again, I’m afraid I won’t be able to keep it to a CliffsNotes version.”

A shiver went through her, some strange cocktail of apprehension and anticipation stirring. She knew—really knew in the deepest part of herself—he would never harm her. She’d been eye-to-eye with evil before and could sniff out the stench of it like a dog. But seeing the honest worry in the lines around Wyatt’s mouth and the tight hold of his shoulders had her wanting to curl into his lap and kiss away those fears. “You aren’t a man who does things halfway. I wouldn’t expect anything less from you in this arena either.”

He regarded her for another long moment, then finally reached out for her.

“Come ’ere.” He cupped her shoulders, his palms hot against her bare skin, and guided her off her knees and onto the couch, straddling his lap like it was the most natural spot for her to be. Like they hadn’t been simply server and customer a few weeks ago.

He adjusted her, and the hard ridge of his cock pressed against her through the thin material of her yoga pants. She closed her eyes, overwhelmed for a moment with the feel of him, his heat, the heady masculine scent she’d only gotten teasing whiffs of before. God, how long had she imagined being this close to him? Moisture coated her sex, her whole body going into melt mode at the contact. And the feeling was good —so good—to just be turned on and hot for a guy. A taste of normal.

She forced her eyes open, not wanting to miss a moment of this. Up close, Wyatt was even more potent than she’d imagined, the blue in his eyes more intense, the curve of his mouth more sensual. Male beauty tucked behind dark-rimmed glasses and a stoic’s disposition. His palms glided across her shoulders and over the straps of her tank top, then his fingers were threading in her hair. He touched her as if he were sculpting a piece of clay to create her form—a reverence and appreciation there that made everything in her want to break open. “Promise me you won’t let me hurt you, Kelsey.”