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G age’s face was as forbidding as she’d ever seen. She had finished the scotch and lay back on the cushion waving the glass. He took it and filled it with water. She tried to lighten the mood. “Hey, he didn’t hurt me. I got away before he could…do anything.”

“I am sorry. This should not have happened.” He repeatedly clenched his fists.

“It’s not your fault. I should have alerted security that I came downstairs. I just wanted to check out the playroom but needed to pee. He caught me by surprise and was pressing me to quit the club so men couldn’t ogle me in outfits like this.” She waved a hand at her costume. “He didn’t really hurt me.” She clenched the glass, trying not to think about what might have happened.

Before Gage could respond, the doctor arrived. He was wearing flowing white robes with a sheikh’s headdress. Brynne wanted to apologize for interrupting his evening, but he was all business and asked her if she had any headache, imbalance, or confusion. After checking her pupils and examining the bump on her head, he suggested they continue the cold compresses and, seeing the glass, added, “Nothing alcoholic to drink, and in a few hours you can take two painkillers before bed. You don’t appear to have a concussion.”

Gage thanked him and walked him to the door. When he turned, his lips were compressed in a solemn line. “Get your things. I’m going to take you home now.”

She shook her head. “Your party is still going. I can take a taxi.”

“No arguments. I’ll carry you out if I have to.”

“Good grief,” she huffed. When she got to the door of his office, she paused. “I would rather not go to the locker room alone.”

He was beside her in an instant, his protective hand on her back the whole way. She didn’t change, wanting to get out of that room as quickly as possible.

They exited the club from the lower level into an underground car park she had never seen before. A big man, dressed from head to toe in black, waited beside a gleaming silver Bentley sedan. The guy reminded her of a Hollywood mafia enforcer with his thick goatee and bulging arms. He tipped his peaked cap to Gage and moved with lightning speed to open the rear door. For a guy built like a tank, he was fast on his feet.

The warm leather seat enveloped Brynne, and she let her head fall back. The car smelled like new leather, and Gage—an intoxicating combination for her already addled brain. She watched him exchange words with his driver. Moments later, they were both seated in the car, gliding toward the exit ramp. Sharing the enclosed space with him made her stomach flutter, and she absently played with the silky material of her pantaloons.

Gage was staring out the window, brooding. She had to break the uncomfortable silence. “I wish we brought the scotch with us.”

“The doc said no more alcohol.”

“Just because you’re taking me home doesn’t give you the right to boss me around.”

“I beg to differ.” His jaw tightened.

“Well, I appreciate the ride home, but I’m really fine and could have taken a taxi.”

He turned to her, his eyes narrowed. “You don’t get it. Dimitri is one of the wealthiest men in Russia and he has an unhealthy obsession with you.” Gage ran a hand roughly through his hair. “He’s ruthless in business and acquires women like other people do cars.”

She sat forward. “What does that mean? Am I in danger?”

“This is London, not Moscow, so his powers here are not above the law. But I want you to be extremely careful over the next few weeks.”

Brynne tried to make light of it. “He doesn’t know my real name. There is no Tinkerbell in the phone listings and my next shift isn’t until Wednesday.”

“Regardless, take a taxi to work, not the train. The club will reimburse you.”

Brynne took in his hard expression and wondered aloud, “I never gave him the impression I was interested.” She was getting herself worked up. “I only smiled at him because it’s in the job description!”

He took her hand in his and hissed, “Jesus, you’re freezing. Give me your other hand.” His hands were hot, as usual, and she let him warm her icy digits, enjoying his rare display of affection.

“Russian men have a reputation for taking the tiniest display of interest and blowing it out of proportion.” Gage turned her chin so she was facing him. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”

His eyes dropped to her mouth and lingered. Brynne licked her lips and waited. But instead of doing what she knew they both wanted, he dropped her hands and sat back in his seat. Psych! His iron control won out again.

She looked out the window and didn’t recognize the area. “Where are we? Don’t you need my address?”

“I have it from your file. We are taking a detour, in an abundance of caution.”

She crossed her arms over her chest and fumed. “Christ, if you’re trying to scare me, you’re doing a fine job of it!”

Ten minutes of awkward silence passed and finally they turned into her street. She didn’t want the night to end like this. He was closed off again.

The car glided to a stop in front of the old fourplex and she unclipped her seat belt. He followed suit. Brynne tried the door, but it wouldn’t open. He and the driver got out, looked around, and then he came around to help her out.

Gage said something to the Tank, to which he grunted in response and got back in the car. Brynne asked, “Was that Gaelic?”

He nodded and took her by the arm. She fished out her keys and decided she had nothing to lose except a little of her pride. “Would you like to come in for a cup of tea?”

He loomed over her while she fumbled with the two locks. She assumed he would deposit her and leave, so it was a surprise when he stepped in ahead of her and felt the wall for a switch. “Sure, why don’t you do that while I look around?”

“Wait, a second!” She ran after him, realizing too late that her place looked like a bomb hit it. Gage stood there looking totally out of place in her tiny sitting room. Springing into action, she closed her laptop and gathered all the stray papers into a pile. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him walk toward her bookshelves, sending her heart banging against her ribs. Just what she needed—him prowling around her dirty book library and making judgments.

She cleared a space on the sofa and squeaked, “Why don’t you sit down and relax while I put the kettle on?”

At his silence, she grew more anxious. “I have been working long hours and my place has gotten a bit out of hand. It’s not usually like this. I’m normally very tidy…” Her voice trailed off.

“You have quite an eclectic taste in books.” His gaze traveled up to the top shelf. “And erotica.”

She rolled her eyes, exasperated. “It’s for research. I’m writing a novel, and so I’ve been studying the craft.”

He laughed. The sound was gravelly from disuse, and it reverberated along her nerve endings. Collecting herself, she filled the kettle and found some clean cups. When she turned to ask him how he took his tea, he was gone.

“Jesus,” she said under her breath and hurried toward her bedroom, plowing into him in the doorway. He steadied her, and she caught sight of something bright pink in his hand. She blushed at the roots of her hair. “Give me that! How dare you touch my things? Have you no manners?”

Amusement twinkled in his eyes. “Just trying to unlock the mystery.”

“No mystery. Just a red-blooded woman with needs!” She held out her hand.

He ignored her and kept studying the thing. When she grabbed for it, he held it up out of her reach. He was grinning, and the sight of his smile knocked the breath out of her.

“Explain to me how this works,” he said playfully.

She made an unladylike snorting sound. “You mean you can’t figure it out?”

He turned it over and found the switch. Fortunately, nothing happened. He lifted an eyebrow. “Och.” He grinned at her. “Did you wear it out, Red?”

Brynne noticed his accent became more pronounced as he teased her. He had found her broken Womanizer sex toy. She stuck her chin out and lit the proverbial match. “If you must know, I rode it to death.”

His eyes darkened as he stalked toward her. She backed away until she was up against the refrigerator. He stopped just short and looked down at her. “You like playing with fire, don’t you, Brynne?”

The way he said her name kick-started her pulse. “I know what I want, if that’s what you mean.”

He planted his hands on either side of her head. “Tell me what you want.”

“For you to stop playing games. If you want me, then take me to bed.” There, she’d said it. This chemistry had been building since the first day she laid eyes on him. He might be unwilling to admit it, but she was past caring.

He took another step and pressed his whole body up against hers. She gasped when he maneuvered a foot between her legs and nudged them apart. The heat from his body seared her skin; his distinctive scent of citrus and sandalwood overwhelmed her senses. He took a fistful of her hair and pulled her head back, forcing her to look at him. “Will you do exactly what I tell you to do?”

She responded by grinding up against the muscular thigh wedged between her legs.

His grip tightened. “I need you to say it.” His deep, gravelly brogue ignited her like a tinderbox.

She glared at him. “Yes. If that’s what it will take. Anything to get you out of my system!”

Brynne saw the muscle twitch in his cheek. She sensed his control was slipping by the minute, which was exactly how she wanted him. Slowly, his head descended, his mouth hovering over hers, just out of reach. She tried to close the distance, but his grip on her hair was unyielding.

He spoke in a strangled whisper against her mouth. “You think one night will be enough?”

She brazenly stuck out her tongue and licked his bottom lip. “There’s only one way to find out.”

His eyes burned into hers and the hand that imprisoned her suddenly cradled her head, and his mouth was on hers. He kissed and licked and nibbled at first. She wanted more, her fingers clutching his shirt. She opened for him, and their tongues met and danced. Still, he held himself back, like a starving tiger chained just out of reach of his prey. She wanted him to pounce and devour her.

He stepped back, and she almost sank to the floor, a whimper escaping her lips.

“Give me your wrists.”

She tentatively put her hands together and extended them toward him. He grabbed one of her tea towels and twirled it at the corners to make a long band.

His face had changed, all playfulness gone. “Turn around and put your hands behind your back.”

Brynne shivered and pleaded with him. “Couldn’t they be in front?”

“That’s one.”

“One what?”

“One act of defiance to be punished.” His voice came out rough, and it vibrated along her nerves. She spun around and clasped her hands behind her.

He crossed her wrists and bound them tightly with the towel. Heat built between her legs when he secured her hands; it was the strangest sensation.

“This will have to suffice, unless you have some ties around?” He took hold of her shoulders and turned her around. Brynne looked up at him, her eyes begging him to kiss her again.

She licked her lips. “My raincoat, it’s by the front door, it has a belt. My robe does too. It’s hanging on the back of the bathroom door.”

His green eyes glittered. “One might think you want to be tied.”

She looked away, flushed with embarrassment. “I have a fantasy or two.”

“I’ve seen your reading material, Red, so I know you’re lying. That’s two.”

“Oh, come on, that’s not fair,” she whined until his squinty-eyed look quelled her to silence.

“Never said I play fair.” He bent down and tossed her over his shoulder.

“Ooh, ow!” She gasped.

“Shhh,” he said as he smacked her behind.

He grabbed the raincoat and yanked the belt out of it. Then he carried her into her bedroom and laid her on her unmade bed. Rolling her off the coverlet, he pulled the spread down to the footboard and folded it into neat layers.

She watched, fascinated, and said, “You’re a bit OCD, aren’t you?”

His eyes bore into hers. “That’s three.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake!”

“Four.” He shook his head. “Tut, tut, do I need to gag you?”

Brynne clamped her lips shut and shook her head. He went into her bathroom and retrieved the tie from her bath robe. When he came out, he was holding up her new vibrator, a wicked gleam in his eye. It, too, was hot pink, had six fabulous speeds, and was fully charged.

“What? That fine piece of German engineering prevents good girls from taking bad boys home with them.”

The look on his face was pure amusement. She rolled her eyes and sighed heavily.

Gage stared at her as he took the belt out of his pants and threw it on the bed. She saw it and worried her bottom lip. Squirming against the bonds, she moaned with need, “Please, Gage…” She was losing her mind, and he had hardly touched her.

Finally, he crawled onto the bed and lay beside her, his head propped on his hand. He placed a hand on her bare stomach, and she chewed her lip to keep from talking.

“Before we go any further, we need to get a few things out of the way.”

“Yes, I want this. Yes, I consent to you touching me, tying me, and fucking me!” She should probably stop babbling but couldn’t stop herself. “Haven’t you made me wait long enough?”

He put a finger to her lips. “You need to hush, or I will find something to silence you.”

She whispered against his finger, “Promise?”

“First, I’m going to punish you. Then I’m going to strip you naked. I might fuck you. I haven’t decided.”

She nodded, giddy with excitement.

“Your safe word is red . If you need me to slow down, or your fingers get numb, for example, you say yellow . Do you understand?”

“Yes!” She nodded excitedly.

He placed a kiss on her nose and shifted himself off the bed. She watched in a trance as he fastened his belt around her thighs, just above her knees. He rolled her onto her stomach to undo the buttons and hooks on her harem pants. He pulled them down to mid-thigh, along with her panties. She moaned into the sheets when his hands ran over her ass, squeezing and pinching until she flung her feet in the air to deter him.

“With each little defiance comes one more level of restraint.”

She tried to roll away, but he leaned his heavy torso over her legs and made quick work of securing her ankles with one of the cloth belts. The restraints made her feel more helpless and more aroused than since…well, ever.

When he rose and pulled her legs toward the edge of the bed, she let out a squeal of pain. He stopped and turned her over. “What’s wrong, Brynne?” Concern creased his forehead.

“My top, it hurts. The beads are digging into me.”

In a split second, he unhooked the clasps, ripped the straps and threw it on the floor, his eyes dark with purpose.

“Oh no!” She pouted. “It was so beautiful, and you ruined it.”

He looked down at her bountiful breasts and laid feathery kisses where the underwire had marked her delicate skin. “Sonya will make you another one that doesn’t hurt you.”

Her nipples hardened under his attention, but he concentrated everywhere but there. Finally, he captured her breasts in his large hands, cupping them with his fingers and pressing them together, his eyes dilated with desire. Her areolas were dusky pink, hard little points jutting from the centers, begging for attention.

He rolled her nipples between his fingers until her mouth opened, her breathing ragged. “You should have said something sooner.”

“I didn’t care. I’m out of my mind waiting for you to put me out of my misery. Please, god…”

He bent low and used the point of his tongue to flick and torture the hard peak, making her moan. His mouth sucked and nibbled one and then the other until they were glistening and aching for more. Her head was buzzing, and her pussy swelled in anticipation.

“First things first,” he said, picking her up effortlessly and laying her over his lap.

“Oh god,” she breathed, squirming on his hard-muscled thighs.

“No screaming, we don’t want your neighbors to call the police,” he said as he pulled her bound hands higher on her back.

“How can I promise that?”

Smack! The first blow on bare skin caught her by surprise, and she moaned loudly.

“That was nothing. Surely you are tougher than that?”

“Bite me,” she blurted without thinking.

“Aye, lass, that’s five, or was it six?” She heard the amusement in his voice.

Smack! His hand came down hard. She whined and pressed her lips together, refusing to be a wimp. Again and again, he smacked her cheeks and her upper thighs. Heat was spreading, and she squirmed to avoid the next blows, but he had her pinned. She realized by grinding herself against his thigh, she might be able to bring herself off. She struggled to bring his leg into contact with her mound and smiled when his hard cock pressed up against her stomach.

“Don’t you dare.” His tone was dark and threatening.

She was not averse to begging. “Oh please, I’m so close.”

“I decide how and when you come, my sweet, and it won’t be wasted on my leg.” His tone was serious as he laid her carefully on the bed and stood. “My god, you’re a beautiful sight, all trussed up for me. I’m going to devour you.”

She stared up at him in awe, her body drunk on helplessness. He started stripping off his clothes. Her mouth watered and her lady parts followed suit when he revealed his muscled chest and washboard stomach, lightly covered in dark hair.

He undid the button on his pants but stopped and rolled her onto her stomach. “That’s long enough to be tied this way. You are probably oblivious to the numbness in your arms.” He made quick work of releasing her wrists and rubbed her arms and hands to restore full circulation.

Brynne moaned when he turned her back over. “Ooh god, that’s better—they are tingling a bit!” Then shyly she looked at him. “I, I liked it. Being tied that way, it did something to me.”

“It did something to me, too.” His jaw was rigid as he untied the belt at her ankles and fumbled with the last tie. “Now get those pretty pants off, unless you want them ripped to shreds.”

Brynne finished undoing the belt and dragged the flowy harem pants off, then sat in rapt fascination as he stripped off his pants and boxer briefs. His long thick cock jutted out from his body, and she marveled at how beautiful it was—dark, shiny, and rock hard. She licked her lips in anticipation. He saw and responded in a low dark voice, “Lay back on the bed and spread your legs. I want to look at you.”

Brynne blushed deeply, unable to meet his gaze, but did as she was told.

“Wider.”

His voice had dropped deeper than she’d ever heard it. She swallowed a whimper.

“Look at me,” he ordered. “Now, use your fingers and spread yourself open.” He ground the words out between gritted teeth.

Brynne looked at him in stunned silence, but his eyes warned her not to disobey. She slowly put her hands on herself, tempted to conceal her arousal.

“I’m waiting,” he rasped, impatiently. She was trembling in anticipation as she trailed her fingers over her mons. Her legs twitched in reaction when she inadvertently grazed her aching clit.

Gage raised an imperious eyebrow. “Did I say you could touch that?”

She shook her head and watched him grasp his hard length and squeeze. The beautiful plum head of his cock glistened with pre-cum.

“Spread those luscious lips and show me how hard your clit is.”

Oh, dear god, I will do anything you ask. Her brain processed his commands, and she fell more completely under his dominant spell. He made her feel beautiful and safe and willing to do anything he asked.

“Keep them there. I’m going to taste you.”

He pulled her body closer to the edge of the bed, so that her feet almost touched the floor—then he kneeled between her spread legs.

“So pink,” he whispered before his tongue circled her clit, causing her to shudder. “So wet.” His fingers spread her wetness up and down while he continued to tease and lick her engorged flesh. She was panting and concentrating on not begging, afraid he would stop before giving her what she needed. His tongue lapped at her core, then two fingers entered her slowly, but not nearly deep enough. She was at her limit; her legs were shaking, and she was about to grab his head and pull him to her.

Sensing her desperation, he spoke in the scariest voice she had ever heard. “Don’t let go, or I will not let you come.”

“Jesus,” she pleaded, “I’ll do anything you ask, please may I come?”

“When I decide, and not before.”

“Yes, sir.” She sighed heavily, signaling her surrender to his will.

His tongue returned, circling at first, then softly sweeping back and forth over her clit. His fingers dipped into her vagina, then out, in a little deeper, and out again. Brynne’s legs tensed; her fingers stayed holding her swollen flesh open for him. Finally, when she was certain she couldn’t take any more, he latched on and sucked hard on her swollen nub, thrusting his fingers into her as she came apart. A keening cry came from somewhere deep within and her hands let go to cover her mouth as she cried out and shuddered against him.

Slowly, the little tremors eased, and her breathing returned to normal. Gage dug a foil packet from his pants and donned a condom. She sat up and looked at him, her mouth in a pout. “I wanted to return the favor.”

Shaking his head, he ground the words out. “I can’t wait one more second to be inside you.”

He climbed onto the bed and pulled her into his arms, his mouth devouring hers in a kiss so intense it stole her breath away. She tasted her juices on his tongue, and it sent her heartbeat into overdrive. The head of his cock pressed at her entrance, and she wiggled impatiently. He held himself still and through clenched teeth said, “Don’t move.”

Brynne held her breath as he pressed forward excruciatingly slowly, stretching her, filling her inch by delicious inch. She sucked on his tongue and yanked on his hair but kept her hips as still as she could. It would be easier if he’d tied her down, so she could not move a muscle.

When he finally sank his full length into her, Brynne sobbed into his mouth. He stopped kissing her and brushed her hair out of her eyes, looking questioningly. “Did I hurt you?”

“No. I just…it’s been a while. It feels exquisite. Don’t stop…please don’t stop.” She felt her face flush and closed her eyes, suddenly shy.

His hand encircled her neck, “Look at me, sweetheart.” The playful curve of his lips vanished, replaced by an intensity that darkened his eyes. His whole demeanor shifted. “I’m going to fuck the living daylights out of you.”

“Please, yes!” She pulled him down to kiss him, hungry for his mouth.

Gage withdrew slowly, leaving the head inside her. This time, when she raised her hips up to him, he drove it home like a tiger unleashed. One hand grabbed her wrists and pinned them over her head, the other grasped her jaw possessively, angling her mouth so he could deepen the kiss. He was as deep as he could go—his tongue in her throat and his cock buried to the hilt. She exulted in feeling totally possessed. Brynne wrapped her legs around his waist and tilted to receive him fully, stunned to feel the delicious ache of another orgasm building. When his grip on her tightened, she knew he was close, as if he feared she would try to escape. When his pace quickened, she heard a wail in the distance, unaware that it was coming from her. She screamed into his mouth as light exploded behind her eyes.

She was still shuddering and twitching, her legs having fallen to the bed, when he lifted himself up slightly, and thrust deeper still. He stilled, every muscle rigid. His mouth was open, but no sound came out. As his cock swelled and pulsed inside her, his body was like a statue, as if every ounce of blood and breath and cum left him petrified.

When he sank down on top of her, he buried his face in the crook of her neck. Their bodies were still joined, and she couldn’t tell if it was her heart or his pulsating on her chest. Her eyes opened in shock when he continued to twitch inside her. It took every ounce of her willpower to let him go when he carefully withdrew and rolled onto his back.

He rose and said, “Be right back. Don’t move.”

Where the hell am I going? I feel like a bowl of Jell-O.

Gage turned before reaching her bathroom door, leveling a glare meant to intimidate, but all she could do was laugh.

He shook his head and tried not to smile. “Impossible brat.”

Brynne lay there, her head spinning with what this night meant. Would he let her keep working for him? Would he be willing to do this again? She was loath to ruin the moment by telling him the earth moved. Women probably gushed all over him, literally and figuratively. She would not be one of those. But god help her, it was the most amazing sex she had ever had.

During college, she learned how to maintain her distance and perfected the art of indifference. It was better to be the one who left first. She watched her girlfriends try to sink their teeth into the men they fell for, only to be dumped a couple of weeks later. Brynne learned from an early age not to get attached to anyone. Sex could be fantastic without all the gooey emotions that her friends fell prey to.

With Gage, she had to be careful. He didn’t seem like the attachment type. However, that wasn’t the most worrisome problem. She just might want him beyond her three-date limit. In fact, she wanted him again right now—and it wasn’t just about writing better steamy sex scenes.

Nothing sent a man running faster than a clinging female post coitus. No choice but to play it cool. There was only one way to pull that off. She grabbed her pillow, turned over, and pretended to be asleep.

Gage stared at himself in the pitted mirror of her little bathroom and asked his reflection what the fuck he was thinking, taking a vulnerable, inexperienced member of his staff to bed?! He couldn’t lay the blame solely on the harem outfit, although it was a factor. No, it started long before that. He knew he wanted her from the moment she dropped the ice cubes in his office. Tonight, he’d let his guard down and succumbed to playing knight in shining armor.

He was more content and sated than he had been in months. The self-imposed celibacy was obviously to blame. When she dared him, with that pouting bottom lip begging to be kissed, he should have turned around and left. But he didn’t. How the fuck could he? Cole was right. She was begging to be taught. And god help him, he wanted to be her teacher.

He was hard again just thinking about it. If he didn’t escape right now, he’d bury his cock between her sweet thighs again. Determined to make a quick exit, he washed up and returned to find her sound asleep. He smiled, hearing her soft breathing and intermittent snoring.

He pulled the covers up and tucked her in, unable to stop himself from touching a lock of her silky auburn hair. Leave now, Mack. He grabbed his clothes off the floor and went into the living room to get dressed. She lived modestly; her bedroom was the size of a broom closet, and her entire apartment could fit into the living room of his penthouse. He sat down on the rickety couch to put his shoes on and took in the clutter. Piles of handwritten pages littered her coffee table.

He was tying his laces when he saw the Limits list, which she must have filled out for Mistress Patricia. Against his better judgment, he took out his phone and snapped a picture of the two pages with all her ticked boxes. On the front were two sticky notes, one with the names of several kinky websites and the other with the web address of a BDSM chat room. Christ, he hoped she didn’t think that was a safe way to meet people! He took that sticky note and put it in his pocket. A justifiable act of protection.

Taking a closer look at the list of websites, he wondered what the hell she was researching: Hogtied.com, PornHub, Sex&Submission, plus one he had not heard of—Badgirlsbible.com. His little pixie was quite the online adventurer.

He texted Angus that he was coming out and then perused her bookshelves one more time. She obviously didn’t want him to see her library of vintage Black Lace books , The Story of O, Anne Rice’s tales of Sleeping Beauty, plus two shelves of historical romances. He would have to dig a little and find out what she was writing. She refused to tell him, but he could hazard a guess.

On the way back to the club, Gage checked his phone. Garrick said the party was winding down. Everyone was having a great time, and the bar was humming with the news of Dimitri’s ousting.

He saw that Cole had tried calling him a few times, and he read a string of text messages.

Cole: Trouble back in Houston. Sorry man, I’m on my way back stateside. Will take a rain check on Berlin. I hope your harem girl is okay. And if you haven’t properly bedded her, you’re a fool.

Gage: Properly bedded, but it changes nothing.

If only he believed that.