Mastering Her Desires Page 3

  “Hardly the place for it,” the cop replied. “Ma’am, are you here of your own free will?”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  He wondered about the expression on her face, but he watched the cop, who in turn watched Kenan’s fingers as he played with the slave ring.

  “We were just a little eager,” Kenan said. He pinched on her clit one more time. Despite the fact he hadn’t told her to, Piper’s hand moved to his thigh, and then slid over to his crotch where she massaged his length.

  “So it seems,” the cop said. “I’d like to see some IDs, please.”

  Kenan moved his hand from between her legs to reach for his wallet. He noticed her hand on her skirt, as if she meant to pull it down. He shook his head ever so slightly, and even in the dark of the car, he could see her flush. She reached for her purse at the same time he gave the officer his license.

  One glance back at her showed she hadn’t moved the material, although it had shifted on its own when she’d moved. He still had just a peek at her bare mons.

  This just might work after all, he thought to himself as he took her license and passed it through the window. As the man examined the documents, Kenan gave her an approving look. She nodded ever so slightly, and then she smiled. His fingers dipped down between her legs again. Her nervous gaze shot to the window. He didn’t have to look back to know the cop was watching them again.

  “You should watch yourself, Ms. Hutchinson,” the officer said. “You never know what trouble this one is going to get you into.”

  The change in her expression was priceless, going from nervous and excited to pissed off in zero point zero seconds. Kenan laughed as he held out his hand for the IDs.

  “Thanks a lot, Mick. Say hi to your wife for me.”

  “Will do. We’re doing a scene at the club tomorrow night. Want to come and watch?”

  “What time?”

  “Around midnight, after I get off and change. I’ve got some new ropes I want to try out.”

  Kenan pinched her clit one more time. This time she shoved away his hand before she lowered her skirt.

  “Looks like you’ve got your hands full with this one,” Mick said with a laugh. “Maybe I need to loan you some of the rope.”

  “I’ve got my own,” Kenan growled out. “We’ll be there.”

  “See you then.” When Mick was gone, Kenan glared at her. “What the hell was that?”

  “You let me think he was a stranger? You…you…” She let out a howl of frustration.

  “Do you think I would finger you in front of a cop who might throw us in jail for public indecency? And how could you not think I know all the police around here? I’m a bounty hunter. I work with them on a regular basis.”

  “I just…this isn’t going to work. Take me home, please.”

  He straightened back up and started to put the car into gear. Before he could, she put her hand on his arm.

  “Wait, I’m sorry. I don’t want to go.”

  “Be more specific, please.” He took his hand off the gearshift.

  “I don’t want to go home. It’s just been a while, and—I’ll be better after this weekend, I swear it.”

  Kenan thought about what sort of story he could tell Doms at the resort about his disobedient submissive. Would she help him or hinder him?

  “We’ll see how the grocery store goes, but we’re making one stop before then. Not one word out of you unless directly spoken to. Got it?”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  She lowered her gaze, and he appreciated the wonderfully submissive gesture. “Finger your pussy while I drive, get yourself nice and wet for me.”

  He exited the parking lot, turning left instead of heading right as he had been before. Why was this so difficult?

  He should have thought about it more before he’d come up with this plan, but it was all set into place now. If he went to the resort on his own, he would be expected to play with the subs that were there. That wasn’t something he wanted to get into. They might prove to be clingy and want him to claim them. He’d thought taking his own playmate, one who knew he had other priorities, one who didn’t want a bond, would be the perfect solution.

  But he hadn’t expected one who challenged him at every turn. He wondered if Mick’s former sub, Chasity, was available. She’d always had eyes for Kenan and was one hundred percent obedient. But then again she would expect more out of him than he was willing to give, and he didn’t want someone clinging to him when they returned home. This was a work proposition, clean and simple.

  The sound of Piper’s fingers sliding in and out of her wetness was a distraction as he drove, but he kept it on the straight and narrow and soon pulled into his favorite sex shop.

  “While I’m inside, put the seat down all the way and lay on your belly.” He exited the car and then hit the alarm so he could hear if someone bothered her while he was inside. He found what he wanted quickly. As he paid, he ignored the flirtatious looks from the clerk.

  She handed him the bag after he’d pocketed his change. “Lucky girl you’ve got there,” she said, her voice deep. “If you want one more, I’m available. I’m sure the two of us can please you.”

  “I’m sure you could,” he replied, “but at the moment I’m a one-woman man. Thanks anyway.”

  Back at the car he found Piper in the exact position he’d ordered her into. He lifted her skirt and slapped her ass. “Good girl.” Then he set about opening packages and inserting batteries. He used the cleaner he’d bought to make sure the item was nice and sanitary, and after he’d dried it, he placed it at the opening of her pussy.

  “Lift your ass up.” She wiggled to obey him, her rounded bottom enticing him. He couldn’t tell in the dark if she still had a few marks from the spanking he’d given her earlier. Either way, he planned on spanking her again tonight at the club. It would be the perfect way to see how she reacted to public play.

  He pushed the bullet inside, thrilled when no sound escaped her lips. She was so beautifully pliant, both in her submissiveness and her physicality. It slipped into her wetness easily. He slapped her ass one more time, then hit the remote. Her deep groan was muffled, and he wondered if she’d bit her lip to keep from crying out or buried her head in the seat. Either way she’d fought to remain silent.

  One more slap to her ass as a reward for good behavior. “Excellent. Now, let’s go shopping.”

  Chapter Three

  There was nothing like trying to be an innocent shopper when there was a vibrating egg going off every few seconds inside your pussy. Piper reached for a bunch of radishes, biting back a groan when the bullet went off.

  Okay, so he didn’t want radishes. This would have been much easier if he’d given her a list, or at least told her the foods he wanted to work with this weekend. Instead, he’d said they’d shop together, and she could pick out the ingredients—sort of. He would let her know when she wasn’t picking things he wanted to eat, or cook with, by turning on the toy he’d bought during their stop.

  So far it had gone off four times, and they weren’t even out of the produce section yet. She moved her hand away from the radishes, letting it gravitate toward the broccoli. The egg stopped moving inside her, and she selected broccoli stocks that looked the best to her.

  After she put them in the bag, she examined the other things on the shelf. Cauliflower? No, something told her he wasn’t a cauliflower man. She moved away from that section, and the item inside her remained quiet. Good, she’d made the right decision. The broccoli would go well with a steak and some potatoes. She had a wonderful potato recipe he would love. She could make the marinade tonight, and cook it for dinner tomorrow before they went to the club. Maybe they could have a veggie salad for lunch. Or would salad fill him up? He seemed more a meat and potatoes guy to her, what with his size. A Panini would work well, maybe a chicken one. She didn’t want to serve red meat twice in one day.

  Still, they’d need a salad. She reached for some lettuce, and the bullet went off.
This would be so much easier if he’d let her talk to him. She stared at the different offerings in front of her. Maybe it wasn’t lettuce he was objecting to, but the type she’d selected. Perhaps iceberg wasn’t to his liking.

  Another groan threatened to escape her mouth as she reached over the iceberg and picked up some romaine. The vibrator switched off. Thank heavens for that. By the time they left the produce section and she’d picked out apples—Granny Smith, not Honey Crisp—oranges, grapes, and bananas, her clit was on fire. If she didn’t come in the middle of the dairy department trying to figure out if he wanted cream with his coffee and what type, it would be a miracle.

  At the meat market, he leaned over and whispered she could talk to the butcher. She ordered two flat iron steaks, a chicken with the backbone cut out, and some fresh Italian sausage.

  “How are you feeling?” he asked while the butcher filled her order.

  “Like a thanksgiving turkey,” she retorted. “I’m in the oven and have a meat thermometer inside me, one that’s on remote control.”

  His chuckle sent shivers up her spine. “Just remember you’re not ready to come out of the oven, so to speak, until the indicator comes out, in this case when you have permission. I have a few things I want to pick up. You seem to be doing fine on your own; just keep shopping and I’ll meet you in the bakery.”

  Piper watched him leave, her gaze glued to his wonderfully formed ass. It wasn’t until the butcher said, “Hey lady, pay attention to my meat, not his,” did she realize she’d been staring for a while, and those around her noticed. She received knowing smirks from a few women, and a few condescending frowns from others. She took her order from the butcher; he winked before turning to his next customer.

  She hurried off before her face could redden anymore. Let them think what they would, but she didn’t want her flush to give credence to their suspicions. She gathered a few more items, not wanting to get too much since they would be leaving on Monday.

  It was while she was examining loaves of bread that the egg inside her buzzed.

  “Oh crap,” she muttered, putting her hand on the glass case to steady herself. Damn, that felt good. It made her clit pulse, and the urge to put her hand inside her pants to make herself come was strong.

  “I know what you’re thinking,” Kenan said from behind her. “Bad, bad Piper.”

  He dumped a few things in the cart and then nodded to the bread. “Hurry up, I’m hungry.”

  She selected a ciabatta roll and a rye loaf. After she’d put them with everything else, she eyed his selections, a set of wooden spoons, a spatula made of hard rubber, and a bag full of ginger.

  “Are you telling me you want Asian food? Because if you do, I need to get a few more things.”

  His grin was almost evil; she quaked because he looked so damn sexy. “Silly Piper,” he leaned close to her. “The ginger is for your asshole.”

  * * * *

  Kenan had a kitchen most cooks would kill for. A huge island contained a stovetop with enough space next to it for chopping and dropping; on the far wall were two ovens and another stovetop. The amount of counter space was tremendous, and all the appliances were stainless steel.

  Piper salivated as she studied the environment.

  “I didn’t design it,” he said in answer to her unspoken question. “I bought it this way. I think the couple who lived here before threw a lot of parties. There’s a pantry that could hold enough groceries for a year.”

  “It’s a big house for one person.” She blinked at him.

  “I liked it,” he replied. “The bottom floor is perfect for a public face, and the top floor is great for my bedroom and three different playrooms, all with lots of fun equipment for your submissive enjoyment.”

  “Three? Seems a bit excessive.”

  A look of displeasure clouded his features, and she knew she’d opened her mouth without thinking.

  “I’m sorry, Sir.” She turned her gaze back to the kitchen.

  His frown reminded her she needed to watch her mouth.

  “Which room I use depends on my mood. There’s a room for spanking, a room for bondage, and a room for…other things.”

  She wasn’t sure she wanted to know the purpose of the “other” room. Something told her this Dom was very creative and had the toys to prove it. It was best to keep things on track, or else she’d be forgetting the “I won’t have sex with you” part of their deal.

  You’ve already forgotten it, a voice whispered inside her head. Just remember, no penetration.

  “Would you like me to start dinner?”

  “What’s on the menu?” His gaze raked over her, and her nipples tightened.

  “I thought I’d make a goulash; that way there will be leftovers for Sunday evening, after the special brunch I have planned.”

  The look on his face showed he wasn’t impressed. “You want to be a chef, and you’re going to fix me goulash for your first offering? Not very impressive.”

  “Mine is,” she said, her back stiffening. “I got an A on it during Home Ec. class.”

  Dork! she screamed at herself. You sound like an idiot.

  “Well, then impress me. I’ll bring in the groceries while you look around the kitchen, familiarize yourself with where everything is.”

  She once again let her gaze sweep across the large space. She’d been impressed with the house when they’d pulled up. It was a detached, single-family unit, with a garden in the front and a swing on the front porch. It gave every appearance of being a normal home, and not one where a bounty hunter lived. She wondered if his neighbors knew about his dangerous job.

  The kitchen was painted a lemony yellow, and she wondered if that was a left over from the previous owners, or if he’d picked the color himself. It didn’t take her long to find what she needed—a large skillet, pasta pan, and a baking dish. The utensils were in a large crock-pot near the stove on the center island. He was definitely a man who knew how to organize.

  Before long he was back, putting the sacks on an empty counter near the sink.

  “Before I start, do I need to be naked, Sir?”

  He gave her what she figured passed for a grin in his world. “That’s a nice idea, watching you prance around here in the nude. But cooking without clothes on can be dangerous. Oil can splatter and hot foods can fall on body parts. I’d rather have you clothed and ready to be played with later in the evening.”

  “Thank you, Sir.”

  “You’re welcome.” He thumped a sack. “Take what you need, and I’ll put the rest up.”

  Piper grabbed the lamb stew meat the butcher had cut for her, an onion, carrots, and potatoes. She put them down before going back for tomatoes, green peppers, celery, and the few spices she’d bought. She needed to get the lamb going, or else dinner would be very late.

  Once the meat was browning in oil, she found a knife and started to dice the vegetables. She could hear him moving around, putting things up. Then came the unmistakable sound of a bottle of wine being opened. A glass of the white liquid soon appeared before her. He pulled out a bar stool across from where she worked and sat down.

  “Tell me about yourself, and before you start, you should know I don’t want to know how you became a sub. That’s a trite question, if you ask me. Obviously someone proposed the idea, and you enjoyed it. What I want to know about is your family. Part of our cover is that we’ve known each other for quite some time, and that means I know your history, and you know mine. You go first. And for this exercise we’re just two people getting to know each other. This is valuable research for our work next week.”

  Piper stirred the meat in an effort to gather her thoughts. How could she tell him her life story without sounding pitiful? Unless she lied to him. No, that wouldn’t do. Best to keep things on the up and up.

  “I grew up in Trenton. My parents never married, and I’ve never even met my father. My mother is a…well, she’s a…”

  “She likes to party?”

 
“Yes.” Tomatoes, she needed tomatoes. She never went for the canned ones. Why hadn’t she picked them up when she’d been gathering ingredients? Because your arms were already full, she answered. A glance around the room showed he’d put them in a bowl not far from her. She walked slowly, picking out four when she arrived.

  “Go on.”

  “With what? I just told you I never met my father, and my mother’s a hound dog. She had a different man in her bed as often as she could.”

  She went back to her workstation and slapped the tomatoes on the counter. Maybe she should ask for a mallet, and she could pound them into pulp instead of cutting them up and mashing them with a fork.

  “Only child?”

  She glanced at him. Instead of a glass of wine, he had a beer bottle in front of him.

  “No, I have two younger sisters, and before you ask, we all have different fathers. None of them stuck around to perform their duties, other than providing sperm.”

  Piper waited for the inevitable “I’m so sorry” she usually heard after she’d told people her life story. She was thrilled when it didn’t come.

  “So you cooked for them?”

  “It was either learn to cook or walk to the nearest fast food restaurant and get our meals there. Hamburgers and fries get old, real fast. One thing I can say for Mom is she did work. She always left money for us, so we could eat. She just wasn’t there to prepare it.”

  She took a drink from her glass, setting it down gently. Sometimes when she thought about her absent parents, she got so angry she thought she should break things. At least her mother had stopped at three.

  “So your love for cooking came out of necessity?”

  “I suppose so. I figured out I had a talent for it and made sure I signed up for Home Ec. every chance I had. The teacher recognized my ability, and when I’d taken all I could for credits, she asked me to be her aide. She taught me more about cooking than my mother, who always said, ‘Mac and cheese is fine for dinner tonight’. Of course, she meant the box kind.”

  She looked up to see the one eyebrow lift.