Scorch (Missoula Smokejumpers Book 6) Read online

  If only her fellow associates could see her now.

  He remained silent, yet she fumed, struggling to the point the metal dug into her skin. Only his eyes gazing into the rearview mirror reflected his thoughts, powerful and dominating.

  She became lost in his gaze, but with every ounce of strength, she tried to pull away, to fight the urge to lash out. In her mind this was nothing more than a tool, one to keep her on edge, allow her emotions to rush to the outer fringes. He knew exactly what would drive her to the brink. She clenched her eyes shut, refusing to give him the satisfaction of enjoying her incarceration.

  Minutes later, she knew he’d stopped the vehicle, arriving at the destination. Whatever was going to occur from here would no doubt be challenging. The man had another thing coming if he truly believed she’d succumb to his tyranny. When the door was opened, and she was tugged onto the pavement, she squared her shoulders, pushing away her emotions.

  “Your penance begins soon,” he stated, his steps laced with purpose.

  “Whatever,” she muttered under her breath and heard the catch in his breath. She would pay for the single word.

  After unlocking the door, he whisked her inside, immediately leading her down a set of stairs, the light shadowed.

  He was no doubt trying to unnerve her, well, the man had another thing coming. Exhaling, he opened a massive steel door, ushering her inside and immediately unlocking the handcuffs. “Do you understand why you’re here?”

  “Because I didn’t follow the rules.” She answered the question with disdain in her tone of voice, a sneer on her face.

  “Turn around,” he commanded.

  Reese remained where she was.

  “I said. Turn. Around.” His voice was almost guttural.

  Sniffing, she did as she was told, shifting ever so slowly until she faced him. The way his eyes flashed, almost gleaming in the muted light created a series of tingles dancing down her spine. “Now what?” This was an entirely new level of play and very unexpected.

  “Remove your clothes. All of them.”

  Licking around her mouth, she debated her actions as he folded his arms, the expression even more authoritative. He had the upper hand. She adored their games, relished the way that he took her, using her body, the desire building to a combustible roar. He was pushy, even obsessive with her, no doubt a product of his profession, his level of influence on almost everyone he knew.

  “If I am forced to repeat myself, I’ll use extreme measures.”

  “Yes, sir.” Her eyes never leaving his, she slid her suit jacket from her shoulders, wiggling until the tight material was crumpled on the floor. After kicking off her heels, she realized just how fragile her position was, but she was committed to following his orders. Trust. Yes, she trusted him, although she often wondered why. She slipped her arms behind her waist, unfastening her skirt and shimmying the thin material down her hips. The look on his face was carnivorous and she could barely maintain her role. He seemed far more dangerous tonight, villainous as if taking a play from her actual life. Dear God, excitement tingled every nerve.

  He exhaled and fingered his mouth, moving his index finger back and forth as if ticking down time.

  She knew him to be an impatient as well as forceful man, a dominant who achieved every goal, obtained exactly every desired item no matter the odds.

  And he wanted her. Every. Naked. Inch.

  “You tease me with your body,” he managed.

  “Yes, sir. Yet, I know what you require.”

  His laugh was laced with danger, seductive and provocative. “I know you do. You’re as intelligent as you are beautiful, even though your penchant for punishment can be daunting, but damn if my mouth isn’t watering.”

  And she was shivering all over, her pussy clenching. This was their game, fantasies created by their respective dark cravings, the kind of kink few could tolerate and fewer still would ever understand. He was her Achilles heel, intense hunger fueling her dreams. She nodded and lowered her head out of respect as she unbuttoned her blouse, her fingers trembling.

  When she stood in a matching lace bra and G string, he huffed before walking around her in a circle, his polished wingtips clipping against the hard cement floor.

  With every step she trembled. He had utter control over her body as well as her mind. At least for now. They weren’t lovers, not in the traditional sense, but the shared moments allowed them both to break free from the strict hold placed on both. They were well respected. They were trusted. They were feared. And Christopher Sampson was the master of dominance.

  But tonight, held a different set of feelings, a darker need, a stronger hold.

  She could almost feel his hot breath as he eased behind her, could even tell what he was thinking, what he was desiring. Clenching her fists, she relished the way his fingers gently unsnapped her bra, his rugged hands sliding over her shoulders as he guided the straps down her arms. She watched as the unwanted lingerie fell to the floor, the whooshing sound reminiscent of his favorite implement.

  “You’ve been a very bad girl. You are aware of that. Working late hours. Ignoring me. I do check on you, remember?” His voice little more than a whisper, he lowered his head, breathing across the back of her neck. He pressed his lips against her heated skin, mouthing the base of her neck, darting out the tip of his tongue as if to taste her.

  “Yes…” Goosebumps floated up along her arms, creating a warm vibe in her belly. “Yes, sir.”

  “You’ll pay for the indiscretion.” He gripped the back of her neck, squeezing as he continued kissing along her shoulder bone to the top of her arm. Very gently he slipped the clip from her hair, bunching her long locks before allowing them to fall to her back. “Pay indeed.”

  She held her breath as he wrapped a single finger around the thin lace of her thong and yanked, the inertia forcing her body to sway forward and backward.

  Christopher moved until he was in front then lifted her chin with his index finger. “Mine to do with as I please.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Come.” He pushed her shoulder, guiding her toward a series of dangling chains. “Arms over your head.”

  This was his private area, a special room located in his basement and the normal location of their playtime. There were times she wondered if anyone else had ever been here. ‘Their room’, as he called it. She both revered and feared the location, given his special proclivities, but trusted him implicitly and had since their first meeting. She obeyed his command, placing her arms over her head. The arrangement was almost perfect.

  Almost.

  He secured her with ease, making certain her wrists were bound tightly. “Agony and ecstasy.”

  “Yes, sir. Mmm…” She longed to touch him, to fall to her knees, sucking his cock, but tonight was all about his need to punish her, make certain she remained well aware of her position, both in and out of bed. The thought was almost ridiculous. She’d never been allowed in his bed.

  When he was finished, he brushed his fingers around her waist then cupped both breasts, rubbing her nipples between his fingers. “Your skin is perfect but will be marked tonight, a reminder.”

  Her heart racing, she was prepared for the pain, the agony that would create a flourish of emotions. “Oh, yes, sir.”

  Christopher pinched her nipples, twisting and pulling as he studied her face, his eyes glistening with anticipation.

  There was something about the intensity of his needs that brought a series of questions to her mind. He was never this brazen and even though the ‘arrest’ had been exciting, he’d taken chances, which he’d never done before. No one was to ever know of their relationship. They’d gone to great lengths to cover up their tryst.

  He continued pinching as he exhaled. “Tonight, I’ll use the quirt.” Dipping his hand between her legs, he swirled his finger around her clit.

  Another rush of quivers shifted into her stomach, creating butterflies. She loathed the implement, the way the leather sl
iced against her skin. The welts were an intense but effective reminder. She gathered a whiff of his cologne, the exotic scent intoxicating, mixing with the musk of her feminine desires. She was wet and hot all over.

  Christopher moved his hand up to her face, caressing her chin, rubbing his thumb across her ruby stained lips. “I can’t wait to fuck you.”

  As he moved away, she listened to every sound, capturing the way his breathing had changed, the way he opened the cabinet slowly, as if savoring every second of anticipation. He’d never know what thoughts roared through her mind, how much she craved as well as loathed their sessions. She always felt like a wretched failure after their time together, even to the point of taking several showers. She swallowed, trying to push away the bile, creeping up from her stomach, sliding along her throat.

  Crack!

  “Oh!” Jumping to the sound, she struggled in her bindings, concentrating on the clanging of the metal chains.

  Using a single finger, he pushed the tip into her skin as he moved down her spine to the crack of her ass. “I love the marks you wear for me. If only others could see them.”

  Crack! Pop!

  “Ooh…” The strangled moan seemed to echo even in the expansive space as pain tore through her.

  Smack! Slap!

  “Aahh!” She heard the snap of his wrist, every action disciplined. Controlled. As he paused, she tried to catch her breath, to hold back her screams of agony as her body shook.

  Slap! Crack!

  “Yes…” he breathed out, the word full of such pleasure.

  Smack! Pop!

  With every hard strike, she was lulled into a separate place in her mind, the growing peace she could only feel from punishment.

  Crack! Slap! Whoosh!

  Panting, she licked her now bone-dry lips as she tried to focus but her vision was marred, shooting spots in front of her eyes.

  Slap! Pop!

  Christopher picked up the rhythm, smacking her ass and her upper thighs, moving from one direction to the other.

  Crack! Slap! Pop!

  Her body going slack, her feet dragging on the floor, she was shivering as a distinct cold slithered into every muscle. No longer exclaiming, she fell into subspace, enjoying the sensations, the rush of anguish until she could only feel raw ecstasy.

  Smack! Crack!

  “You still me,” he whispered and caressed her ass cheeks, working his fingers into her bruised skin. “I might have to fuck that tight ass of yours.”

  Reese heard the drop of the quirt as if in slow motion and knew he was cranking the chains, lowering her down several inches. Electricity created a shimmer in her loins as she allowed her body to dangle, her head lolling down. Somehow, the floor seemed so very far away. Beads of perspiration slipped down from above her eyes, dripping one by one onto the scrubbed and polished floor.

  As he released her hands and pulled her against his chest, he slid his arms around her waist, holding her in a protective stance, his face pressed into her neck. “I could do this every day.”

  “Mmm… Yes.” She placed her hands on top of his, caressing, holding, longing to feel his thick cock pumping into her. She caught the way his heart was beating, thumping against his chest. He was always so collected, never rattled either in or out of the courtroom.

  Gathering her into his arms, he cradled her against his chest, kissing her forehead as he walked toward the entrance.

  “Where are we going?”

  “To my bed.”

  She lifted her head, studying his eyes. He was no longer looking at her and there was a level of sadness she hadn’t seen before. But this moment was too precious, so different than she was used to, so she nestled her head against his shoulder as he took the stairs two at a time. Why was there a queasiness in her stomach?

  Easing her down, he cupped both sides of her face, kissing her lips, her nose and her forehead. “You are so special.”

  “Thank you, sir. You’re not so bad yourself.” She toyed with his tie, pressing her hand over the designer silk. Always the consummate professional.

  Winking, he turned her around, pushing her over the edge of the bed.

  Smack!

  The sharp slap of his hand against her ass gave her another series of tingles.

  “I’m going to fuck you long and hard.” He snaked his hand between her legs, shoving two then three fingers inside, flexing them open. He pumped slowly and methodically as he bit down on her arm.

  “Mmm…” Reese arched her back, meeting every hard thrust.

  Crack! Pop!

  Within seconds, he moved away, leaving an emptiness furrowing deep inside. She darted a look over her shoulder. This was so unexpected, so out of the norm, but there was still no concept of passion. Just hard fucking. Dropping her head, she waited, expecting him to fully undress. Only a few seconds later, he gripped her hips and kicked her legs open wide, instantly thrusting the entire length of his cock deep into her pussy. The scratch of his pants against her thighs was startling.

  The man hadn’t bothered to undress.

  He plunged hard and fast, skin slapping against skin, his grunts floating into the air above them.

  She clenched her hands around the comforter and kept her eyes on the floor to ceiling windows that covered one entire side of the impressive room. From here she could see the shimmer of the pool, the luminescent LED lights twinkling in various colors. And for a few seconds, she was no longer enjoying or even feeling his almost brutal thrusts. A single tear slipped from her right eye, dripping onto what she knew had to be an expensive comforter. Everything was perfect about his life.

  Except for her.

  “God, so wet. So damn tight.” His grunts turned into almost savage growls as he drove in and out. He fisted her hair, dragging her head back at an awkward position.

  She bit back a series of cries, preferring to keep the loneliness, the bleak feelings buried deep inside.

  “I’m going to come.”

  And she no longer cared.

  “Yes. Fuck, yes!”

  Clenching her eyes shut, she was shaking but her condition had nothing to do with her body’s reaction, but one of her mind. At this moment, she hated him. Hated all he stood for.

  And mostly, she hated herself.

  Christopher draped his body over hers, licking the back of her neck. “Damn, I love our time together.” Within seconds, he’d walked away.

  Reese shuddered as she tried to stand, almost falling across the bed. He’d never been this way, not once. Ice cold. Something had changed between them.

  “Here you go, beautiful. Why don’t you put on my robe and we’ll have some wine on the deck?”

  “Okay,” was all she could manage. She stood up and tipped her head to watch him, catching the expression on his face. Unfeeling. She was nothing but an object. “Damn you.” The whisper was hoarse, full of anger, but she doubted he’d heard. She slipped into the robe and walked into the bathroom, turning on the light. Glaring at her reflection, she no longer could stand the face staring back at her. This was going to end. Period. She deserved more than a man who had no clue about passion, no idea about romance. There’d been no flowers, only a few professional dinners out, talking about criminals and various sentences.

  After all, he was the county prosecutor, a man of extreme power and wealth and she was a low on the totem pole defense attorney. Why the hell had he bothered? Tying the sash as tightly as she could stand, she walked through his marble and glass, steel and leather house, finding him already on the outside deck. Gone was his suit jacket and tie. In his hand was a glass of wine. Red wine. His choice.

  “There you are. The night is beautiful. I thought we could talk,” he said casually as if he was on top of the world.

  “Why not,” she said with as much conviction as she could stand then grabbed her glass of wine, joining him at the railing but keeping a wide berth.

  “Come here.”

  “I’m fine. Just cooling off.”

  He remain
ed quiet for a full minute before shrugging. “Whatever you say.”

  She took a sip then a gulp of wine. There had never been an awkward silence between them, not in the six months they’d been doing this. Whatever this was.

  “How’s the case?”

  “He’s a horrible monster but I stand a chance of doing my job just like a good little monkey.”

  “Whoa. That’s harsh. You’re defending your client.”

  Laughing, she shot him a look. “I guess that’s what others would say. I know he’s guilty.”

  “Then my prosecutor will convict him.”

  “Your prosecutor couldn’t fight his way out of a paper bag, Christopher. The kid is wet behind the ears and you should be the one trying this case.”

  “You have a complete understanding of why I can’t, Reese,” he insisted, sounding exasperated.

  “Because of us.”

  He laughed and turned to face her. “Of course not. Because of this case in general. You know what the public is expecting. They think he’s a saint.”

  She narrowed her eyes before registering what he was saying. “You didn’t want to come within two feet of this case. You were terrified of losing or worse, you didn’t want the possibility of convicting him tarnishing your reputation. Right?”

  “It’s more complicated than that, Reese and you know exactly my reasons why. You are well aware of what’s at stake here.”

  “You mean because he’s a Congressman’s son? You mean because you’re selling out?” Anger mixed with contempt. “You’re a coward!”

  The silence between them was palpable.

  “I’m just doing my job,” he stated and took a sip of wine. “Look, I wanted you to know something.”

  “Okay. Tell me something.” She wasn’t certain she cared what he had to say.

  “I’ve been doing some thinking and well, Marcy and I have been spending some time together.”

  “You mean Marcy, your almost ex-wife, the one you’ve done nothing but bad mouth the entire time we’ve been together?”

  “God, you can be a bitch,” he huffed.

  She exhaled and concentrated on the lights twinkling in the expensive pool. “Just answer the question.”