Drawn That Way Page 3

  A slow smile spread across his face, and she paused for a second and stared at him, looking almost stunned. But she shook it off just as quickly and thrust her blade at him. He parried and spun, trying to catch her off balance, but she was too quick. She blocked his attack and danced out of range.

  She grinned at him, and he loved the competitive light in her eyes. “Will I get written up by H.R. if I thrash my boss in a swordfight?”

  He swung at her again. “For tonight, we’re just co-workers. If you think you can actually take me down, go for it.”

  She swung at him again, spinning to the side and nearly losing her balance when he attempted to return the blow. He couldn’t ever remember enjoying this process as much with anyone else.

  He lost track of how long they went at it. And, though they’d both scored points off each other, he’d lost track of those, as well. All he knew was they were both getting winded, and he was hornier than hell. Battling with Tristan was more arousing than actual foreplay with other women. He hoped she wouldn’t notice the aching bulge behind his fly.

  She feinted to the left and, without warning, swept his legs out from underneath him. He landed on the mat with a hard thud and, just as quickly, found Tristan looming over him, her chest heaving, nipples taut points and her blade pressed against his neck. “Got you.”

  Her face was flushed, and she was panting a little as she squatted next to him, triumphantly gloating. He was almost content to lie there and let her win, but his competitive nature was just as strong as hers. As soon as she lifted the blade from throat, he sat up, gripped her shoulders and pushed her on to her back, pinning her to the mat.

  She let out a squeak of surprise as he held her there. Her pupils dilated as her gaze dropped to his mouth and hovered on his lips for several telling seconds before climbing to his eyes again.

  Christ. He’d never wanted to kiss someone so desperately in his entire life, but he smothered the urge and sat back on his heels, reluctantly releasing his grip on her. “You were saying?”

  Chapter Five

  The imprint of Rory’s hands had been seared into Tris’ shoulders. She swore she could still feel his touch as she pushed up on her elbows and stared at him. What had been an easy camaraderie moments before seemed to vanish into thin air. He glanced at her, then away, as if he were uncomfortable again. Of course, that may have been because she’d been lying there wanting him to kiss her, and it had been painfully obvious. That was more than enough to make someone pull back. She was an idiot. She’d let her libido get away from her and imagined an attraction where there was none.

  He extended his hand toward her, and she took it, letting him pull her up off the mat with a surprising amount of strength. Releasing her, he walked to the camera, turned it off and removed it from the tripod.

  “You’re really good at this,” he tossed over his shoulder as she picked up their swords from the mat. “Any chance you’d be willing to come in and do it again? I have a feeling we could get a lot of usable footage.”

  “Yeah. I could definitely do that.”

  “I’d pay you, of course.”

  She shrugged. “You don’t have to. This was a better workout than going to the gym. And a lot more fun.” Granted, she wouldn’t mind the money, but she’d feel guilty getting paid for something she’d do for free.

  He shook his head, frowning slightly. “I’d feel better about paying you.”

  That’s right, Tris. This is a business arrangement. Nothing more. Pack up your stern professor fantasies and take them home to the shower where they belong. Idiot.

  “So, can I get copies of the video and the pictures? I’d love to see everything.”

  “Sure. Just give me a second.”

  Rory left the room, and she grabbed her bottle of water and downed the rest of it before beginning to pick up the weapons they’d used for the shoot.

  “What’s your password?” he asked, setting a laptop on his tall drafting table.

  “The Doctor’s Companion. All one word. Capital T, capital D, apostrophe S, and capital C.”

  Rory snorted and typed it in as she turned around. “I’ll just upload the files from the SD card so you can have a copy, too.”

  He typed it in on her keyboard.

  On her laptop.

  Her laptop that he’d just grabbed from her office.

  Where she’d been looking at, well, basically porn, when he’d walked in earlier.

  “Close the lid. Close it,” she practically screeched, crossing the room to do it herself.

  His eyebrows drew together, and he stared at her, his expression quizzical. Then, he slowly turned his head back toward her screen. She could see the flickering image of the .GIF reflected in the lenses of his glasses. Even without looking at the computer, she knew what he was seeing.

  She must have watched that image cycle through twenty-seven times before he’d entered her office earlier. A man stood behind a woman and slid his hand over her chest to gently wrap his long fingers around her neck as he yanked down the cup of her bra with his other hand, baring her breast. Her nipple hardened right before the .GIF repeated itself in an endless loop.

  Scorching heat rushed to her face, and she closed her eyes. If there were any justice in the world, the floor would open and swallow her whole. Or there would be a tsunami on Lake Michigan, and it would drown her. “Just so you know, I wasn’t looking at…that site…on company time. I didn’t open it until after five.”

  The man’s hands had reminded her of Rory’s. It was part of the reason she’d watched it over and over. That and the stupid conversation she’d had with Clover.

  “I believe you,” he said, somewhat distractedly, clicking the buttons on her touch pad. “You’re not one to slack off at work.”

  She forced open her eyes, only to discover that he’d moved from her dashboard to her actual blog where she’d reposted all of the images that had turned her on and was scrolling through them. All of the images that made her want more than the boring, safe sex she always ended up with. All of the images that were currently revealing her desperate needs to her boss.

  “At least, I know my instincts about you weren’t wrong.”

  “What are you on about?” She didn’t actually want to know, but the words were already out of her mouth, and it was impossible to call them back.

  He turned to face her. “Earlier today, when you and Clover were discussing my sex life in the break room—”

  She dropped her head back to stare at the ceiling. “You heard that.”

  “From the phrase, ‘one tall blonde with’ I believe it was, ‘ginormous tits after another’ until you noticed me.”

  “Fabulous.” Where the hell was that tsunami when she needed it?

  “It piqued my interest—”

  “Of course, it did.”

  “So, I waited a moment before entering the room.”

  Tris put her hands on her cheeks, surprised her face hadn’t melted off like that guy’s in Raiders of the Lost Ark. This was, by far, the most humiliating moment of her entire life.

  “You waited and heard us gossiping about you like a couple schoolgirls in the bathroom between classes.”

  “I would hope schoolgirls aren’t discussing kinky sex.”

  She couldn’t stifle the laugh that bubbled up. “You’d be surprised.” She sighed. “I’m sorry. I owe you a huge apology.”

  “For having porn on your computer?” He sounded…amused.

  Was he laughing at her? At this cocked up situation? She opened her eyes and met his gaze. His eyes seemed a brighter blue as he stared at her.

  “No,” she said, flatly. “For discussing your personal life when it’s clearly none of our business.”

  He shrugged. “If it makes you feel any better, your responses to the rumors gave me a fair amount of insight into you, and this,” he said, nodding at her laptop as he scrolled through a few bondage shots, “confirms it.”

  “Confirms what?”

  �
��That you’re turned on by the thought of kinky sex and, possibly, even rough sex.”

  She opened her mouth, but there was nothing to deny.

  “The way you squirmed and wiggled in your seat when you were quizzing her about whether I was into spanking or flogging. Or,” he tapped her screen where a woman was cuffed with her wrists above her head, “bondage.”

  The words “are you” were on the tip of her tongue. As much as she was dying to know, it wasn’t any of her business.

  Another thought occurred to her, and worry started edging out humiliation. “Did you arrange this photo shoot to get back at me, somehow? As some kind of punishment for being stupid and nosy?”

  He rubbed his hand across the back of his neck. “Tristan.” His voice had that rapsy edge that sent flutters through her middle whether she wanted them or not. “I asked for your help because I want to make the games better. I think that your idea—not to mention, your fencing skills—will help me do that.” He gestured at her computer again. “Finding out we have…mutual interests…is just a delightful surprise.”

  She guessed that was her answer. And, now, she couldn’t do anything but imagine him restraining her while he yanked off her clothes.

  “Actually, delightful isn’t the right word for it.”

  “Why?” she surprised herself by asking.

  He took off his glasses and rubbed a hand over his eyes before looking at her. “Because as much as I’d love to explore our shared interests, I can’t. I’m your boss, and there’s an inherent power imbalance. One that’s not conducive to consensual sex.”

  “I thought you said that tonight we were just co-workers.” She had no idea where this ballsy side of herself was coming from. And she wasn’t sure if she liked it or not.

  Rory set down his glasses next to her laptop and dragged his hands through his hair, pulling it slightly. “You’re killing me.”

  She couldn’t help but wish it were her hair he was yanking.

  “Even if that’s the case,” he said. “It wouldn’t work. I don’t do relationships.”

  Now, it was her turn to frown.

  “Did I say I was looking for anything more than a good time? Time? Singular?”

  He stared at her, his eyes the most intense shade of blue she’d ever seen. “You’re not worried it’ll affect our working relationship?”

  “Just because I’m female and single doesn’t mean I’m looking for someone to put a ring on it.” She supposed it was easier to be completely honest when all of her secrets were out, and there was nothing left to lose. “Women just want a good, meaningless shag, now and then, too, Rory.”

  His expression hardened, and he seemed to make a decision. Without warning, he reached out and spun her around, locking an arm across her chest and pulling her flush against his body. His cock was already hard and pressing against her bottom.

  “What’s your safeword?” he practically growled against her ear, weakening her knees and sending shivers down her spine.

  “I don’t have one,” she choked out.

  Chapter Six

  Rory swept his thumb back and forth, stroking the silky skin over her collarbone. “You don’t have one because you don’t play safe? Or because you’ve never played?”

  She shook her head, seemingly unable to answer.

  “Which is it?”

  She took a breath. “Never…” Her answer drifted off as she trembled under his touch.

  The news that she was basically innocent as far as any sort of rough play was concerned should have killed his arousal. But, oh god, it didn’t. If anything, it just made him more desperate to touch her. He sighed, resting his forehead against the top of her head.

  She pushed her ass into his groin, looking for more contact than he was giving her. He tightened his hold across her chest, rendering her motionless without words. She stilled, taking a shuddering breath that went straight to his cock. He should take her inexperience for what it was—a sign from the universe that this was a terrible idea.

  Instead, he heard himself ask, “What are your limits?”

  She was quiet for so long, he was afraid her next words would be to be to ask what he meant by limits. And, if that happened, he really would have to bow out.

  Still standing completely still in his hold, she said, “Condoms.”

  “Of course.”

  “No marks—none that would be visible while I’m wearing work clothes, anyway.”

  He nodded to let her know he’d heard.

  “No closed fists.”

  “Not a problem,” he murmured, stroking her skin.

  “No calling you Daddy. I’m not…okay with that.”

  He stifled a chuckle. “I’m not okay with that, either, so we’re on the same page.”

  “No coming on my face or in my hair. I get that that’s a thing, but I don’t like it.”

  “Other places on your body?”

  “That’s fine.”

  He couldn’t help but picture jacking himself all over her tits while her hands were cuffed behind her back. It was all he could do to keep from groaning.

  “Anything else?” he asked after he pulled himself from that particular fantasy.

  She shook her head. “Not that I can think of, right now.”

  “Okay.”

  “What about you?” she asked.

  “What about me?”

  “Do you have any limits?”

  The question stopped him short. No one had ever asked him that. Perhaps they’d just assumed that, since he was the one in control, he didn’t have any. But Tristan had been concerned enough to ask. There was only one limit he saw being necessary with her, and as much as he didn’t want to enforce it, he knew it would be better for them both if he did. “No kissing,” he finally answered. “On the mouth, I mean.”

  She haltingly nodded her acceptance.

  It wasn’t that he didn’t want to kiss her. He did. Desperately. And that was the problem. Kissing was too intimate. It was easier to remain emotionally detached if it wasn’t an issue.

  “Do you want to be called Master or anything?”

  “Rory is fine.” He wouldn’t admit it aloud, but the truth was he didn’t want her to call him anything she might someday call anyone else. “I think it’ll still be clear who’s in charge here.”

  “All right.”

  “Which brings us to orgasms.” He stroked his thumb across her collarbone again, loving the way she quivered at his touch. “I realize that you’re new to this.”

  She nodded.

  “If I were playing with someone more experienced, I’d expect them to hold back until I’d given them permission to come. I’m going to ask you to try. You won’t be punished if you can’t, but try. It’ll feel so much better if you do.”

  “Okay.” It was little more than a strangled whisper in the quiet of the room.

  “Are you sure you want to go through with this?” he asked, giving her a chance to be the voice of reason for both of them, because he certainly couldn’t do it.

  She nodded.

  “Out loud,” he insisted.

  “Yes.” It was more of a breath than a word, but he’d take it.

  “Your safeword is red. Say it, and everything stops. The whole encounter. I don’t want to push you into something you’re not ready for. If things are getting a little too intense and you need me to back off, but you want to continue, the word is yellow. Do you understand?”

  “Yes.” Her voice was a little stronger now—still quavering, but stronger.

  “There’s no shame in safewording. If you need to, I won’t think any less of you.”

  “I won’t need to.”

  He wasn’t going to acknowledge her bravado. “Your words are red for stop. And yellow for slow down.”

  “Right,” she said as he splayed his free hand across the softness of her stomach. Her muscles jumped beneath his palm as he stroked her, keeping her pinned against his body with his other hand.

  “And you re
alize there will be consequences if you don’t obey?” He nipped at the side of her neck waiting for her answer.

  “What kind of consequences?” Her voice was strained. He couldn’t tell if it was fear or excitement. Judging from the way her body practically vibrated, he guessed it was a potent mixture of both.

  He was already primed and ready to explode. He wasn’t sure how he was going to make this last. But he needed to. It would be the only chance he had to explore her body. The only chance he had to experience her submission. She only had one first time to live out her fantasies, and he wanted to make sure it was unforgettable. He didn’t want to think about subsequent times with her and other guys. Smothering thoughts of anyone else’s hands on her, he focused instead on the warmth of her willing body pressed to his.

  He lifted his arm from her chest and tugged at her shirt with his other hand. “Take it off.”

  A sharp intake of breath and her trembling fingers moving to the hem of her shirt were the only signs she’d heard. She skimmed the snug-fitting fabric up and over her head to drop it on the floor. She reached around to unhook her bra.

  “Did I tell you to take that off?”

  Her hands dropped to her sides. He didn’t miss the way she clenched and released her fingers as if she needed something to cling to, but there was nothing to hold.

  He returned his hands to their previous positions on her chest and stomach. This time, he let his fingers dip below her waistband, stroking the area just above the edge of her panties. He wanted to slide his hand down farther and see if she was wet, yet, but he didn’t. He forced himself to wait. To make this last as long as he possibly could.

  Pushing on her abdomen, he pressed her against his groin, letting her feel his raging hard-on through the thin fabric of her leggings. Remembering the first image he’d seen on her computer, he slid his other hand upward and wrapped his fingers around her throat. Not tightly. Just enough to give the suggestion of pressure without impeding her ability to breathe. If she wanted more later, she’d get more. But, right now, he wanted to work her into this. Her heart pounded erratically under his forearm, matching her wildly fluttering pulse beneath his fingertips.