One Night of Trouble Read online

Page 8

“I heard that,” Jordan shouted.

  “You were supposed to,” Brett shouted back. Grinning, she reached for AJ’s hand and gave it a little tug. “Come on, let’s go see what these boneheads are arguing about.”

  The second their skin made contact, heat spread through his body in long, pulsing waves. “Actually, I think I’d like another tour,” he drawled. “You didn’t show me the upstairs last time.”

  Her breath caught when he rubbed his thumb over the center of her palm. “You wouldn’t,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

  “Wouldn’t what? Keep tormenting you?” He chuckled softly. “But I promised you I would—and I always keep my promises. I’m going to tease you all day, angel. All. Fucking. Day.”

  She visibly swallowed. “You’re evil.”

  “Damn straight.” He stroked her wrist, then laced their fingers together and turned to address the Conlons. “Excuse us for a second. Brett wants to show me some of her old drawings…”

  AJ stayed true to his word. For the next two hours, he found three more excuses to get Brett alone. Three more opportunities to coax her to the edge of orgasm before cruelly wrenching her back. By the time they were preparing to leave, she looked ready to explode, which would have been funny if he weren’t hovering over the same lust-filled powder keg. He just hoped her family hadn’t noticed how many times he’d had to rearrange the front of his pants. He doubted it, seeing as they’d been bickering about sports, cars, and tattoos the whole time.

  Despite their three-track minds, though, he’d genuinely enjoyed hanging out with the Conlons. They were entertaining, interesting, and incredibly easy to talk to.

  But AJ was tired of talking. It was time to put him and Brett out of their misery before they both went up in flames.

  Since Brett had arrived in her own car, they drove to her apartment separately, and even the act of pressing his foot on the gas pedal made his cock ache. Miraculously, he managed to make it to Brett’s place without coming in his pants.

  As he hopped out of the Jeep, he was greeted by the scent of garlic and ginger wafting from the Korean general store. The door had been propped open by a milk crate to let the fresh spring air in, the same warm breeze that brushed AJ’s bare arms like a teasing caress.

  When Brett’s car pulled up behind his, his pulse took off in a gallop. Christ, he wasn’t leaving her side until both of them were sated and sweaty and limp from pleasure. The club didn’t open until seven and he’d already told his bartenders he might show up late, so he had nothing but time on his hands.

  He planned on taking advantage of every damn second.

  “Upstairs. Now,” he commanded when Brett met him at the curb.

  “Yes, sir,” she said with a mock salute, but he didn’t miss the impatience in her gait as they climbed the stairs to her apartment.

  This was his second visit to Brett’s domain, and he found it as soothing as the first. With its funky mismatched furniture and dozens of colorful paintings on the walls, her place was so much more welcoming than his. Her style was an odd mix of modern and antique, and so frickin’ cozy it brought a pang of longing to his gut.

  His own apartment was neat, sterile, and bland. He hadn’t had the heart to say no to his mother when she’d insisted on decorating it, but he couldn’t deny that her efforts had succeeded in making him feel like an intruder in his own home.

  “Bedroom.” Brett’s voice sliced through his thoughts.

  He narrowed his eyes when he noticed the look on her face. Stern and steely, a sure sign that she was up to something.

  Deciding to humor her, he headed down the hall, and when they entered her bedroom, she pointed to the bed. “Lie down.”

  AJ raised one eyebrow. “You’re bossing me around now?”

  “Damn straight.” She lifted an eyebrow in return. “Did you think I was going to let you get away with what you did last night? And what you did today? You really don’t know me at all, Adam James.”

  No, he really didn’t, but he sure as hell was enjoying getting to know her. He loved the fire simmering beneath her surface, the way she wasn’t afraid to speak her mind. He’d already caught several glimpses of her temper, already learned firsthand that it didn’t take much for it to spill over, but he liked that about her. Brett Conlon was full of life, and damned if he didn’t admire that.

  It was almost a shame she’d decided to rein in that fire in order to please her family. AJ much preferred this scorching, passionate side of her.

  She fluttered a hand at the mattress again. “Lie. Down.”

  He sauntered over to the bed and stretched out on top of the quilted bedspread, propping his hands behind his head as he watched Brett march toward the closet. She leaned inside and disappeared in the row of hanging clothes, making mysterious rustling sounds as she rummaged around.

  When she turned to face him, she held a silk necktie in each hand.

  “Are we playing dress up?” AJ said casually.

  “Nope.” Her expression turned downright wicked as she approached the foot of the bed. “Take off your shirt.”

  He sat up and yanked on the collar of his T-shirt, peeling the material over his head. Brett’s eyes darkened with approval when his bare chest was exposed, and man, knowing his body turned her on was a goddamn ego boost.

  Her hips swayed seductively as she joined him on the bed. She gave him a forceful shove so he was on his back again, then climbed on top of him and straddled his crotch.

  Fuuuuck.

  The intimate contact turned his dick to stone, and his hips involuntarily rose so he could rub up against her. The friction was so insanely mind-blowing he almost blacked out, but a sharp tug on his left wrist snapped him back to reality.

  He eyed her warily. “What are you doing?”

  Rather than answer, she looped one tie around his wrist, then wrenched his arm up and aligned his hand with one of the bedposts. He didn’t protest as she secured his wrist to the post. He was far too fascinated.

  “This”—she fashioned an impressive-looking knot and pulled hard—“is what I like to call payback.”

  A second later, he was tied to her bed.

  Chapter Eight

  Brett was proud of her handiwork as she tested AJ’s bindings—and slightly surprised that he’d allowed her to do it without a single objection.

  “Payback, huh?” he echoed. “Whatcha gonna do, Brett? Spank me? ’Cause I’d have to roll over for that, and I’m afraid I’m a bit tied up at the moment.”

  She snorted. “Ha-ha, hilarious. And please, don’t tempt me—you totally deserve a spanking for the way you tormented me.”

  Her hand lowered to his waist to toy with the button of his khakis. She deliberately grazed her knuckles over the ridge of his very obvious erection, enjoying the way his abdomen tightened as he sucked in a breath. His chest was truly wonderful. An endless expanse of smooth golden skin, lightly dusted with dark blond hair and rippling with power.

  “You should get some ink,” she mused, skimming her fingers over his defined pectoral muscles.

  His hot male flesh quivered beneath her touch. “Yeah?”

  “Oh yeah.” She traced one flat nipple, then bent forward to flick her tongue against it.

  AJ groaned.

  “Most MMA fighters I’ve seen on TV have tats,” she remarked. “How come you never got any?”

  His features had grown taut, a sheen of moisture appearing on his forehead as she teased both his nipples with her fingers. When he spoke, his voice came out strained, distracted. “There was never anything I considered important enough to permanently put on my body.”

  “Pity.” She kissed the patch of hair between his pecs, then followed the wispy line down to his groin.

  “Jesus,” he mumbled. “I’m totally digging this payback, baby.”

  “You won’t for much longer. I haven’t even gotten started yet.” She smiled sweetly. “I’m going to torture you, baby.”

  “Yeah?” He didn’t seem
too concerned by the threat.

  “Oh yeah. Like I said, I don’t like being dicked around.”

  He blinked innocently. “Really? I happen to enjoy it.” His lower body rose off the mattress, his thick erection bumping her hand. “Dick me around, Brett. Please.”

  She swallowed a laugh. God, this man never failed to surprise her. All the memories she had of him from high school, all the assumptions…flawed, each and every one of them.

  The AJ Walsh she’d admired walking the halls of Hawthorne High had been a fantasy. The man she’d spent the weekend with? He was real. He was playful and sexy and far more dominant than she’d ever expected. In fact, if Troy or any of her former boyfriends had bossed her around the way AJ did, she probably would’ve slapped them upside the head. But for some reason, she totally got off on AJ’s bossiness.

  Of course, being the one in charge also had its benefits.

  As she undid his pants and freed his erection, a sense of power she’d never experienced surged through her veins. With his hands secured to the bedposts, he was completely at her mercy. She could do whatever she wanted to him, and he was helpless to stop her.

  She stroked his shaft, enjoying the weight of him, the smooth, hot flesh beneath her fingers. He was long and thick, hard as a rock, and soft as velvet. She could see his pulse throbbing in his cock as she moved her fist in long, leisurely strokes.

  “Best payback ever.” AJ moaned as he thrust into her hand.

  “You still think so, huh? Then I guess you’ve forgotten about all those times you got me close today and then took your hand away.” She flashed a devious look. “But I sure haven’t. PS—I’m going to do the same thing to you now.” She nodded at his immobile hands. “And there’s not a damn thing you can do about it.”

  Smirking, Brett leaned over and swiped her tongue along the tiny slit on his engorged head, licking the drop of salty moisture pooled there.

  He jerked on the bed, wrists smacking the posts as he tried to move his arms.

  “Don’t waste your time,” she said helpfully. “Fun fact—my dad and brothers are avid fishermen. Every summer we take our boat out to the Finger Lakes for a two-week fishing trip. Which means I know my knots.” She beamed at him. “I tie a mean bowline, if I do say so myself.”

  AJ made an unintelligible sound. His features contorted in agony when she gave his erection a teasing squeeze. Then she licked him again, a slow circle around the crown of his cock, and a strangled groan tore out of his throat. She peered up and encountered the sexiest sight on earth. AJ in full-blown arousal mode—lips parted, cheeks flushed, strong throat working as he swallowed repeatedly.

  Her sexual tormenting continued in the form of featherlight licks up and down his shaft, each delicate flick of the tongue summoning another anguished noise from him. When she decided to take pity on him by sucking on his tip, he shuddered as if she’d dumped a bucket of cold water over his head.

  Brett lifted her head with a mocking chuckle. “You doing okay?”

  “What do you think?” he croaked.

  “I think I’m going to let you come.” She firmly wrapped her hand and lips around him, pumping hard as she tightened the suction of her mouth.

  Five strokes, six, seven…and just as she felt his body tense up, she released him with a pop and leaned back on her elbows.

  “Actually, no,” she said cheerfully. “I changed my mind.”

  The expletive he let out was so loud and tortured she choked on a giggle.

  “Oh, I’m sorry, what was that?”

  “I hate you,” he mumbled.

  “No, you don’t.” She cupped his sac and fondled it lightly. His cock had gone impossibly thicker, resting on his navel and pleading for attention.

  Oh yeah. This was power, all right. She had AJ Walsh right where she wanted him, and he wouldn’t get an ounce of relief until she decided to give it to him. How many orgasms had he deprived her of already? She quickly did the math—one last night, at least three today.

  She had a lot of work to do.

  For the next thirty minutes, she showed him exactly what she thought of his blasted anticipation. Her soft licks and teasing pumps, intermixed with greedy sucking and the hard squeezing of his balls, turned the man on her bed into a cursing, trembling mess of need. And all the while, Brett gauged his responses with delight, until she knew his body better than she knew her own.

  When his six-pack tightened and his balls drew up, it meant he was close.

  When he wheezed as if all the oxygen had drained from his lungs, it meant he needed more.

  When his bound hands thrashed against the bedposts, it meant he was losing his frickin’ mind.

  The third time she took him to the brink, his release nearly breached the surface, and only the fast, sharp squeeze of her hand managed to ward it off.

  AJ grunted, but there wasn’t an ounce of pain in his eyes. Just smoky pleasure and unadulterated lust. He was no longer fighting the knots, either. He actually seemed to be enjoying the complete lack of control.

  “You like this,” she marveled when she saw his face.

  “Fuck yeah,” he growled.

  Brett wondered if she would like it if their roles were reversed. If she was the one at AJ’s mercy.

  The answer was swift and unequivocal: God, yes. She’d love every dirty second of it.

  Releasing him, she inhaled a wobbly breath and slid off the bed. She didn’t say a word as she stripped off her clothes. Just kicked each garment away until she stood naked in front of him.

  AJ’s gaze smoldered as it roamed her body. “Payback’s over?”

  “Are you kidding me?” She stuck out her tongue. “It’s time for round two.”

  If she managed to survive it.

  Every muscle in her body was coiled tighter than a rattlesnake, every nerve ending crackling with sexual energy. She was wet and achy and so damn ready, but she’d set a course of action, and she intended to follow through on it.

  Round two entailed the same level of teasing as Round One, only this time she brought her own body into play. This time when she bent over, it was to rub her nipples over his cock—and this time, they were both groaning with abandon.

  God. She was torturing herself now, and she wasn’t sure she was capable of the same awe-inspiring patience AJ seemed to possess in spades.

  She straddled him again, more for her sake than his, because the feel of his cock rubbing her aching clit was absolute heaven.

  “Holy hell, that’s hot.” The intensity of his expression made her shiver. “Keep doing that.”

  She gripped his erection and rubbed the blunt head over her sensitive bud, until his shaft was slick from her juices and her clit was so swollen it hurt.

  Struggling for breath, she eased backward. One hand stayed on his cock but went motionless, while the other traveled between her legs. Although AJ had a perfect view of what she was doing, she didn’t feel vulnerable or exposed. If anything, the hungry gaze fixed on her core only fueled her arousal.

  When she rubbed her clit with her index finger, he growled again. “Christ. That’s it…touch yourself.”

  Her knees parted as she slipped one finger inside, and his eyes burned with lust.

  “I bet you wish it was your finger inside me right now, don’t you?” She grinned. “Do you want me to tell you how wet I am?”

  “I can see how wet you are,” he rumbled, tracking the movements of her hand. There was no mistaking the moisture shining on her finger.

  Another surge of feminine power coursed through her. Whoa. He was looking at her like she was a treasure chest and he held the map to unlocking it. His erection pulsed and twitched against her hand, but rather than give it what it craved, she let go altogether.

  With one finger lodged inside her, she used her other hand to tend to her clit.

  Oh crap. She was getting close.

  “Don’t,” he commanded when he noticed her trembling. “You’re not allowed to come. Not until you’re sitt
ing on my dick.”

  “Wow. Still issuing orders even when you’re tied up. You’ve got some balls.”

  He glanced at his crotch, smug and unashamed. “Yup. Big ones. How about you put your mouth on them again?”

  Brett smothered a laugh. “Maybe later.”

  She eased the pressure of her fingers, lightly stroking herself. God, she wanted him inside her. It was all she’d been thinking about ever since he’d ordered her to leave last night.

  When she was no longer convinced she could stop her impending orgasm, she withdrew her fingers and reached for him again. Her hand was slippery from her arousal, making it easy to glide her fist up and down his shaft.

  AJ took one look at his glistening erection—and lost it.

  “No more.” The desperate words ripped out of his throat. “Get up here and ride me, or I’ll break this goddamn bed to splinters trying to get loose.”

  It would have been fun to torment him a bit longer, but her patience had disappeared like a puff of smoke. Brett left the bed only to find a condom, then climbed back on his lap and hurriedly rolled the latex over his shaft.

  Rather than guide him inside her, she leaned forward so one nipple brushed his lips. AJ sucked without hesitation, his eager tongue lashing the rigid bud as he drew it deep in his mouth. Lord, even tied up, the man was fully capable of setting her body on fire, and as a sizzle of electricity zinged from her nipple to her core, Brett had no illusions about who was in charge.

  He might be on his back, but AJ Walsh was in complete control. He had been from the start.

  Her nipple was still in his mouth when she impaled herself on him, and the wild groan he let out vibrated in her breasts and sent shivers up her spine.

  “Sweet Jesus, Brett. Fuck me. Now.”

  She couldn’t have denied him even if she’d wanted to. Her body moved of its own volition, grinding against him in a frantic rhythm.

  AJ lasted four strokes.

  She lasted five.

  The orgasm was unlike any she’d ever experienced. It tingled in her fingers and toes, rippled through her body, burned in her blood like jet fuel. It was too much. Too damn much. She collapsed on top of him, convulsing violently through the onslaught of ecstasy.