Roni Loren

Nothing Between Us


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were out there. Some of them scared her, in theory, but she knew real fear and she’d never felt that when thinking of Colby. She didn’t feel it now. And the thought of experiencing that even once with him, having his hands on her, that big body pressing against her …

      She leaned back, needing some breathing space and some solid ground. “I don’t know what to say.”

      “Say what’s on your mind. There are no wrong answers here.”

      She sighed and looked up at him. “I’m not going to sit here and lie that I haven’t thought about what it’d be like with you … like that, submissive. I can’t stop watching … and thinking. But it’s scary. The thought of putting myself out there like that.”

      He watched her intently, as if considering every one of her words, then nodded. “Well, know there’s no pressure here. You don’t have to answer now or ever. But I’m telling you all this because I’m not one to bullshit or play games. I like you. I want you. But I also am the way I am, and that’s not for everyone.”

      No lies or games—what a novel concept. Most days she felt her whole life was balancing on intricately weaved, wispy-thin threads of deceit. Something free of all that was so goddamned tempting. Colby was so damn tempting. But this was anything but simple. This was no longer some fantasy scenario she was watching from a safe distance. It would be her tied to that big bed of his.

      She rubbed her lips together and peered over at him. “I don’t know if I’m capable of being submissive.”

      “You say that.” The shadow of his dimple appeared. “But you like watching me and imagining you’re there with me? In those scenarios, do you picture being in charge of me?”

      She held his gaze for a long while, but the truth sat full on her lips. “No. I can’t really imagine you like that. It doesn’t make sense.”

      “And when you think of being on your knees for me, does that make sense?”

      She swallowed past the dryness in her throat. “Sometimes. In the fantasy world.”

      “That fantasy world is where a lot of truth hides. We could test what’s true for you.”

      “What do you mean?”

      “Here, let’s try something.” He settled back against the arm of the couch. “Turn around.”

      “Why?”

      He cocked an eyebrow.

      With a huff, she complied. “You use that eyebrow thing on your students?”

      “Yes, it’s very effective. Now, put your back to me. I promise I won’t touch you anywhere that I couldn’t in public.”

      She had no idea what he was up to, and the thought of letting him touch her in any way made her belly do flips. What if she panicked? But every instinct in her told her Colby was okay. Even so, it was hard to trust her intuition. It had let her down so spectacularly with Phillip. But looking back, she knew she had ignored signs early on. She wouldn’t make that mistake again.

      But right now, she needed to take this risk, give her gut a test run, trust that Colby wasn’t a dangerous guy. He’d never done anything to make her think otherwise. And even if something went wrong, she had enough self-defense moves to get out of this position if she needed to. She’d trained hard to make sure she never got caught defenseless again. She turned around fully, and he put his hands on her waist to drag her back against him.

      He situated her against his chest, wrapping his arms around her and letting her head rest on his shoulder. Lord, he was big. She braced herself for the inevitable anxiety she expected to rush forward. But instead, after giving herself a moment to take a breath, she realized she felt just fine. Better than fine. She was deliciously cocooned in Colby’s warmth and the clean scent of freshly showered man. It was pretty damn nice, actually.

      “There,” he said, settling into the position. “Now I want you to close your eyes and keep them closed while we try this. You’re a writer, so I’m sure you have a vivid imagination. I need you to use it.”

      “But—”

      “Hush,” he said softly. “Just relax and listen. I think this may help.” His fingertips traced along her arms, and the music from the TV drifted around them. He took his time, caressing her and letting her adjust to being held by him, and then he started to speak low against her ear. “I want you to picture standing in the doorway to my room. I’ve turned the lights down and lit candles. The shadows are dancing along the walls. It takes a minute for your eyes to adjust, but when they do, all you can see is the outline of me sitting in the armchair in the corner. I’m still in my work clothes but I’ve loosened my tie. I’m waiting for you.”

      Georgia’s skin warmed and tingled where he touched, the scene appearing in her mind, colors filling in with fine brushstrokes as Colby shared more details. She could see him sitting there, legs spread wide, the posture of a confident king holding court—sexy and intimidating. Her heartbeat kicked a little harder against her ribs.

      “Can you see me?”

      “Yes,” she whispered.

      “I tell you to come in. You’ve worn a red dress and look beautiful, but that’s not what I need tonight. I want nothing between us. I order you to undress for me. Slowly.”

      His breath brushed against the shell of her ear with every word, and a hot shiver worked its way down her body. She pictured herself standing there in the middle of his room, the window she’d so often spied through bearing silent witness. She could almost hear the zipper dragging down as she imagined reaching behind her and tugging it to slip out of the dress.

      “You’re wearing a lacy bra and panties, and I can see just enough beneath to drive me crazy. I love your body, those curves, the gorgeous glow of your skin. It reminds me of warm cocoa.” He pressed his lips against the curve of her neck and grazed her with the tip of his tongue. “And I know it will taste just as sweet.”

      Holy Moses. The tiny touch sent every muscle tightening, and a moan built in the back of her throat.

      “I tell you to come closer to stand between my knees. You do so without saying a word. I haven’t given you permission to speak. I don’t touch you yet. You haven’t earned it. But your nipples are dark shadows beneath the lacy material, the little points begging for my mouth, and your panties are clinging to you.” His voice dipped even lower. “You’re so wet for me already, I can taste your scent in the air.”

      Her thighs pressed together, the imaginary arousal becoming all too real.

      “I can barely stand to stay patient. My cock is pressing against the fly of my pants, aching for you. But I like riding that edge, taking my time. And I owe you a punishment.”

      “Why?” she asked, her voice barely audible.

      “Because you were seven minutes late for our date.” His fingertips trailed along the tops of her thighs, lighting up nerve endings in their wake even through the material of her jeans. “I tell you to lose the bra and to kneel down next to me. You’re being a good girl and you follow my instructions. The bra falls to the floor and those full breasts are there on display for me. I lay you across my lap and capture your arms behind you.” His fingers circled both her wrists and applied pressure. “You’re all mine now.”

      Mine, her mind repeated, the word sounding sexier than she’d ever heard it. Phillip had used that word like an angry child—mine!

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