Bound in Blue Read online

  Walking as quickly as possible without looking like I was trying to escape, I headed back to my patient charts. Slumping against the wall I struggled to get control over the lingering feelings I had from my encounter with Mack. So many questions swirled in my mind.

  Why wasn’t I afraid of the things he threatened to do to me? I shouldn’t look forward to being spanked, should I? My past interludes with men never strayed to the kinky side. Maybe that’s why I found myself so intrigued?

  What did Mack really want with me? He was for all intents and purposes a relative stranger, yet he spoke to me like we were so much more. Wasn’t it just a one-night stand or was it more? Could I throw caution to the wind and spend more time with him?

  The biggest question of all though was would I be waiting for him at seven or would I find out exactly how it felt to be naughty?

  * * *

  At seven o’clock sharp, I watched a sleek black Harley Fat Boy pull up to the front doors. As the pipes rumbled before quieting and the thickly muscled legs wrapped around it straightened to the ground, I found my heart fluttering, my palms sweating, and my panties dampening.

  Standing at the nurse’s station with my messenger bag slung around my shoulder, I felt like a world class idiot for staring… and drooling.

  Normally, I wouldn’t have been watching, but in order to keep my mind off my impending “date”, I focused so intently on completing charts and taking care of cases, that I was actually done on time. There was a first time for everything.

  Mack strutted through the double set of mechanical doors looking like sin, while I stood dumbfounded with my arms at my side and my mouth gaping. His hair was even more tousled than usual, thanks to his helmet. And of course, there was that damn smirk. There was nothing more I wanted to do at that moment then find out what was hidden behind that smirk. Well… almost nothing. I did still love cocks and sex, so obviously that would be my priority with him given the chance.

  He stopped in front of me so that we were toe-to-toe. His masculine scent and woodsy cologne filled my lungs, and I felt slightly lightheaded with the headiness of it.

  “Decided to play it safe, buttercup?” His smirk widened into a full out smile that was just as charming.

  “I’m not sure I should be doing this at all,” I mumbled and started walking towards the doors. Mack fell in step with me as we walked to his bike. I couldn’t get out of there fast enough. The last thing I needed was people asking questions about who I was with. I wasn’t big on sharing details on my private life.

  When we got to the bike, Mack tried to hand me a helmet, but I shook my head so he would keep it. A brief boyfriend I had in college owned a Ducati, so I was no stranger to motorcycles and knew I’d be most comfortable in a helmet with my hair down. Reaching up to unravel the bun I always wore my long, straight black hair in while at work, I caught Mack watching me intently.

  “You should wear your hair down more often,” he commented, his voice gruffer than usual.

  For some reason, it made me far too happy to hear he liked my hair. I found myself fighting not to preen in front of him, like some giddy lovesick fool. Because of my annoyance with that fact, I found my hands on my cocked hip and myself snapping at him, “Screw you. You don’t know anything about me. I might wear my hair down all the time outside of the hospital.”

  His eyebrows raised straight up into his hairline. “You might want to dial back your attitude if you don’t want that spanking after all.”

  “What is that supposed to mean?” I raised my chin defiantly at him and crossed my arms. I had been giving him attitude, but I wasn’t ready to admit that.

  “It means that you keep up your attitude and one of two things is going to happen. One—” He held up his index finger. “I’ll decide to take you over my knee and spank your ass until it’s beet fucking red before I fuck you. Or two—” He held up his middle finger next to the first digit. “I’ll decide you’re not worth the trouble if all you’re going to do is be a bitch.”

  A sharp retort sat on the tip of my tongue, but I swallowed it down once his words penetrated. The thought of him deciding I wasn’t worth the trouble stung. I barely knew him, but I was intrigued by him and wasn’t ready for that to end. He gave me a fix like no one else ever had. I had a feeling that tonight, when we weren’t rushing for fear of being caught, was going to be an even sweeter fix.

  “Cat got your tongue?” He asked when I didn’t reply to him. I shook my head, trying to decide what I wanted to say next.

  “Look. I’m sorry we got off on the wrong foot. Let’s just go to a hotel and forget this little tiff happened?” Was what I decided on.

  “Hotel? I thought we’d go back to your place.”

  “I don’t know you from Adam,” I pointed out. “Why would I invite you into my home? Cop or not, you could be a psycho.”

  Mack threw his head back and laughed at that. All I could do was sit back and watch the show. A thick, corded neck on display, making me want to run my tongue all over it. Far too quickly though, he sobered and looked down at me.

  “You think if I was a psycho, I couldn’t still attack you in a hotel?”

  That gave me pause. Why hadn’t I thought of that myself? I knew all too well the dangers of hooking up with complete strangers.

  “You have a point. We’ll go to my house,” I conceded and then proceeded to warn him. “But don’t think you’re sleeping over.”

  “Wouldn’t dream of it,” he said with a smirk.

  I lifted the helmet out of his hands and settled it on my head. Mack straddled his bike, and I climbed on behind him. My arms went loosely around his waist, and my excitement level ratcheted up a notch.

  “Where to?” He asked.

  After giving him my address, the machine between my legs roared to life along with my libido, and I gripped Mack as tightly as possible as we rocketed from the curb.

  Chapter Two

  “Nice place,” Mack said as he not so subtly inspected my house.

  The brownstone I inherited from my maternal grandmother wasn’t overly large. I’d call it quaint if asked to describe it. Some might disagree with that assessment since it did in fact have three levels and technically wasn’t small, but to me it would always evoke a feeling of coziness, love and charm.

  Located in Georgetown, the main level was still decorated in the shabby chic decor my grandmother loved. It consisted of a formal sitting room, dining room, half bath and a large kitchen. Sometimes when I walked in, I automatically expected my petite grandmother to shuffle from the kitchen with a checkered towel in her hand to greet me.

  Upstairs is where I had put my mark on the place. It always felt like changing anything in the main area would taint my grandmother’s memory, so I couldn’t bring myself to do it. Which is why the second floor sitting room was now a cozy den with a plush, large couch and chairs that fit my style. They were perfect for relaxing and reading, and I spent most of my free time in there. Two guest bedrooms and a full bath occupied the rest of that level.

  The third level has a master suite that boasts a large, updated bathroom with a garden tub, a walk-in closet, a sitting area and a four-poster bed. The bed is made of mahogany and is both old and sturdy. The thick spindles and age give off an air of regalness. When I was younger and visited my grandmother, I always felt like a princess in that bed. Rachel and I would spin tales of princes and the evil witches they would save us from. They were some of my best childhood memories.

  “Thanks. It’s home.” I tried to sound nonchalant, but inside butterflies had taken over my stomach, and I was a mess of nerves.

  “You rent?” He inquired.

  “No. I inherited it from my grandmother. I’d never be able to afford living here if I didn’t.” I decided to leave out the fact that my sister had also inherited it. That story was for later… as in never.

  He turned towards me just as he was about to reach a collection of pictures of Rachel and me from the time we were little until th
e time we were twenty-one. I twisted my hands nervously, anticipating the questions that were sure to come once he saw them. Bile threatened to rise up my throat at the thought of having to talk about her out loud with anyone. Especially with Mack.

  “Nervous?” His head cocked to the side and a wisp of hair fell over his forehead. He looked so damn endearing in that moment, I had to fight the urge to reach out and brush it back.

  “No.” My voice croaked a little, and I breathed a sigh of relief when he took a few steps towards me and away from the photos.

  “Good.” Mack’s head dipped down, and his lips brushed mine softly. One pass. Then another. Within minutes, his tongue was in my mouth, slowly thrusting in and out. It felt like a sensual promise of things to come. I had never been kissed that way before, and all I could do was hold onto his shoulders for dear life.

  “Want to head upstairs?” I asked breathlessly after he broke the kiss. I loved the fact that we both knew what this was. There was no reason to hide behind the niceties of drinks and dinner. We both wanted sex and we weren’t afraid to cut to the chase. We were a match made in heaven in that regard.

  Instead of answering, he shook his head and gave me a devilish grin that made my stomach flip. Walking to a slipper chair covered in a blue paisley print, he turned it around and crooked his finger at me. The heated look in his eyes instantly had me believing I would go anywhere he told me to just so I could feel the scorch he was sure to deliver. Crazy, right?

  Once I stood before him, he slowly ran his hands down my arms before reaching for the hem of my scrub top and pulling it over my head. Thank heavens for the fact that I did laundry the day before so my bra was lacy red, rather than the drabby old white ones that I had been wearing.

  I really wanted to put my hands on him and get this show on the road, but Mack had other ideas.

  “Beautiful,” he murmured as his tongue drew a path along the edge of lace on my breasts. My whole body broke out in goose bumps. Dropping my head back, I closed my eyes and focused on the way my skin tingled in anticipation and the way his tongue made the pulsing between my legs grow in intensity.

  Never letting his mouth break free of my skin, he untied my scrub bottoms and hooked his fingers in the waistband of my pants, pushing both them and my panties to the floor. I stepped free of the heap of clothes and kicked them off to the side. Mack’s hands deftly unfastened my bra and drew it down my arms while his mouth descended to a taut, peaked nipple and then he sucked. Hard.

  “Oh dear God,” I gasped. My hands wound in his hair to hold him to my feverish skin, but it only lasted a second because his fingers wrapped around my wrists, and he was pulling them away from his head. I found myself pushing against his hold, trying to keep purchase on his locks. In the end, he overpowered me though and a whimper may have escaped my mouth as he laved my breast with his tongue one last time before lowering me in the chair.

  “Now, buttercup,” he started as he looked down on me. I was a petite five feet four inches to Mack’s six feet so him looking down on me was nothing new, but for some reason, him doing it now made me feel like a naughty child being forced to sit. It was an odd feeling. “I have some things planned for you tonight. Before we go any further, though, I need you to trust me. Trust that I won’t push you any further than you want to go. Can you do that?” Overall his tone was soft, but it also held an edge to it. It was like he expected me to laugh in his face and ask him if he was crazy. And there was a chance he was, in fact, crazy with the speech he was giving. Then again, there was an even bigger chance that I was crazier than him, because I was considering blindly agreeing to whatever he had planned.

  Then I remembered he might be a psycho.

  “I’m not going to agree to anything until you explain.” I crossed my arms and legs in an effort to retain control of the situation. I was naked after all.

  Mack ran his hands through his hair as he studied my face. I assumed he was trying to decide what he wanted to say. As I waited, I really hoped that whatever he decided on wouldn’t be a deal breaker. Especially after the fact that he had already turned me on. Switch flipped, I didn’t want to be left hanging.

  “I’m what many would call a dominant when it comes to sex.”

  “Huh.” I sank back in the chair at a loss for more than that word.

  “Yeah. I’m not looking for a lifestyle submissive. I don’t want to collar anyone and have them obey me in all things. It’s just that I like to control women in the bedroom.”

  “So, your way or the highway?” I asked, intrigued by the idea of letting him dictate what we do and how we do it.

  “Basically.”

  My eyes locked on his for several long moments as I considered his proposition. I was adventurous when it came to sex. I loved trying new things… doing new people. This would certainly be an experience for me since I didn’t know many men who wanted to be completely in the driver’s seat. Too often they sat back and waited for me to take what I wanted.

  Besides, I could always kick his ass out if he got too weird. It wasn’t like I ever had to see him again.

  “Are we talking whips and chains? Or handcuffs and spanking?”

  His eyes went liquid and his smirk came out in full force, making my insides clench with anticipation. “The latter. You down with that, buttercup?”

  I shrugged and hoped that my voice wouldn’t betray how scared I was of what we were about to do. I didn’t want to show any sign of weakness—not ever, but especially not after he informed me he was going to dominate me. “We need a safe word, right?”

  At my answer, which was really a non-answer, his smirk grew to a smile and he reached in his back pocket. “We do.”

  At a loss for what to choose, I went with my favorite color. “Blue.”

  He chuckled for a second and murmured, “Interesting choice.” His hands came back around to his front, and he was holding three blue silk scarves folded into squares. Each one a different shade.

  Interesting choice indeed.

  “What are you doing?” I asked when he knelt in front of me.

  “Shhh,” was all he said. His fingers wrapped around my ankle, uncrossing my legs and pulling it towards the leg of the chair. The smoothness of the silk gliding against my skin was erotic and sent chills through my body. Happy chills for sure. I silently watched as he deftly secured my leg to the chair with a scarf and then repeated the task on the other side.

  It felt thrilling to be tied down so that my legs were spread wide for him. My heart threatened to pound out of my chest, and my breaths were quick and shallow. Fingertips gliding lightly up my inner thighs had my eyes fluttering shut. My stomach dipped deliciously like I was on a roller coaster when my hands were guided behind the back of the chair and silk wrapped expertly around them. The width of the chair forced me to arch my back, which in turn thrust my breasts out and made me look and feel wanton.

  My initial thought to being tied up was that I’d feel confined. What I found though was that I felt free. I had never felt so damn alive. It was exciting and a touch overwhelming to put so much trust in him. For all I knew, he could take off and leave me tied up.

  “Fuck,” he bit out as his gaze raked over every inch of my skin. “You’re quite a pretty picture all trussed up for me.”

  “Mack…” My voice was needy, even to my own ears. I could feel my wetness growing and briefly wondered if I could have my grandmother’s chair cleaned without ruining it.

  “Megan…” He mimicked my tone. It was so hot to hear him say my name. It was the first time I had ever heard it on his lips, and I wanted to hear it again. How could a man saying my name be such an aphrodisiac? “I’m going to make you feel so fucking good.”

  Without further ado, he dropped to his knees and started placing open mouthed kisses on each of my thighs. His hands gripped me tightly just above my legs, and I chose to believe he was grounding himself with that touch. Much the same way he was grounding me with it.

  As he got closer t
o the promise land, I bit my lip and stifled the urge to beg him. Finally there, he closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. “You smell so fucking sweet.” His fingers traced my slit. He held his finger up to show me how wet it was. “You’re drenched,” he said before sucking on his finger and giving me a smirk that let me know he knew how much I liked watching his show.

  His head dipped back between my legs, and then his mouth was there. Oh dear God I wasn’t sure I was going to be able to handle him eating me. It was too… I don’t know what, but it was definitely too much of whatever it was. His lips nipped, his teeth raked, and his tongue glided.

  Embarrassingly quick I was on the precipice of an orgasm that was sure to rival any other orgasm that had come before that one. Mack sucked on my clit then. His tongue began flicking against the sensitive nerve endings and I detonated, exploding like fireworks on the damn Fourth of July.

  “I… I… Ahhhh… God… Yes…” Then words were no longer able to form on my tongue because my body was tightening, spasming and then soaring.

  Mack slowly brought me back down—petting me, placing gentle kisses all over, running his nose against my skin.

  I stared at him with what had to be a dreamy look on my face as he pulled his shirt over his head, showing me a hard chest with a perfect amount of chest hair covering his pecs and his six-pack abs, the trail of darker hair leading to his treasure. Typically not a fan of chest hair, I had to take a minute to appreciate his. It was quite simply perfection.

  Drool pooled in my mouth as he worked his belt and the fly on his jeans. Each tine separating on his zipper felt like a lifetime before he was pulling off his jeans and holy shit! He was going commando. My heart skipped a beat at the sight. There was nothing sexier than a man with no underwear. Bar none.

  Waxing poetic about his thick and larger than average sized erection could be done all day, but at that moment, I wanted it in my hands. I wanted it in me. The sated feeling I was just experiencing flew out the window and a new hunger took its place.