Page 16 of Bonded

“That would depend. What’s your friend’s name?”

“Um… Darius, Darius Jackson, is he in here?”

“You really shouldn’t be here.”

She frowns, taking a breath, wondering why each time she mentions Darius’ name it seems to induce such a look of fear. But before she can question him further, a shiver runs down her spine, and turning around she faces the hard stare of purple eyes.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing in here?”

“Oh hey,” she smiles, her words stuck in the back of her dry throat. “Sorry, I… I just wondered where you were because you’re missing the fun. I mean… this is nice but, there’s not all that much fun going on, right?”

“You need to go. This place isn’t for you and Digby will be anxious about where you are.”

“I’m sure he’ll be just fine. Well, as I’m here, I thought you could buy me a drink?” She smiles and with the earlier ‘orgasms’ still clouding her judgment, she touches her fingers lightly against the expensive cotton of his designer shirt. He feels good, his muscular chest firm under her touch, but he smells even better. Whatever the designer aftershave is he wears, it has a powerful effect on her usually lacking sense of smell.

“I said Digby will be looking for you.”

“Yeah, well, I can go where I like. You know he doesn’t own me. He might think he does, but if that carries on then, things might change.”

“Really. Well, I don’t care about that, but you do need to leave.”

“You really want me to leave… But why? I mean, you’re in here, so why can’t I be? What, you don’t think I’ll be safe?” she whispers, hushing her voice, giggling. “Are they all sadomasochists’ or something?” He doesn’t respond to her joke and she frowns. “Oh, whatever… Excuse me!” she calls back the server. “Actually, I’ve changed my mind. I will have one of those drinks.”

Before he steps forward, the server seeks Darius’ permission—he nods and the young man holds the tray forward. Darius takes one flute filled with champagne and hands it to Kat.

“Well, that was presumptuous of you. I mean, I might have wanted one of those red cocktails?” she cocks her eyebrow, watching the expressionless look on his face.

“Trust me, you wouldn’t like them. Now, shut the hell up and drink. Then you need to go.”

“Okay, well, I’ll just have to take your word for it… about the drink, I mean.” She continues to stare at him and he seems awkward—almost a nervous gait to his stance, and she can see him darting random glances around the room like he’s watching for something. She smiles, teasing again—almost like a game. Winding him up, she tries to provoke a reaction. Smoothing her hand over his chest, the crisp of his shirt feels nice, and then without a word, she takes her drink and walks away.

He watches her—protectively, as she wanders the room, parading herself in front of him, her hands gliding across the arm of the velvet couch, feeling its soft smoothness under her touch. Then she turns back to look at him and drops her gaze submissively and toying with him. She leans over the back of the couch and it makes the fabric on her outfit gape. She grins.

He looks so good. So sexy.Deep burgundy shirt, his dark hair tousled just right, and that dark shadow of stubble—gives him such a powerful look. The mauve of his eyes burn into her, and she can tell he’s looking at her breasts displayed beneath her outfit. She continues to tease. Holding her position so he can look at her longer. This game of trying to tempt him is such a massive turn-on.

“So, what is this place? I mean, I like the décor, it has a very expensive feel to it but it’s like some bacchanalian boudoir. What exactly goes on in here?” she frowns, watching as someone in the corner snorts a line of coke from a mirror tile, while another injects something from a tray. “I’m curious as to why you come to a place like this?”

The sudden sound of muted clapping makes her turn around and she watches the guys sat alone applaud the sultry singer as she ends her set. “This place really doesn’t seem like much fun?”

“I told you, you wouldn’t like my kind of fun. Now it’s time you went.” He frowns, noticing she’s attracting attention from the men seated at the back of the room. “It’s not your scene here.”

“Oh…” she places the empty glass on the table and steps toward him. Looking up into his eyes, she smiles. “How do you know it’s notmy scene? You don’t know what my ‘scene’ is yet.”

“No, but I doubt it’s the same as mine.”

“Oh, really? Well, you don’t know everything about me. Maybe you should’ve researched a little harder.” She grins, biting her teeth against her lip. Teasingly, she places both hands on his chest, massaging slowly, and then playing with the buttons on his shirt, she unfastens one.

He takes hold of her hand and stops her.

Focusing his eyes on her, they stare at each other and he can’t work out what she wants or whether she’s just playing with him, but whatever it is, it’s having an unexpected effect and he registers the stirring in his groin as his cock stiffens. It’s wrong, but it’s out of his control.

Kat can feel the effect she’s having on him and with a playfully wicked glint in her eyes, she runs a finger along the collar of his shirt, her other hand sliding to his hip. “I like it here. Maybe I’ll get myself a membership or… maybe you could add me to your guest list?” she whispers breathlessly.

Removing her hands from his body. “It’s not Digby’s scene,” he whispers against her ear. “So you might need to reconsider those thoughts?”

A broad smile fills her face, and the look in his eyes tells her she’s breeched one of those tough outer layers. “Well then, maybe I should come alone? You know, I don’t always have to do what Digby says. I’m not tied to him.”

“Kat, you’re drunk and you need to go before you do something more stupid that you can’t undo. You really shouldn’t be here.”

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