For His Protection (9 page)

Ty’s apartment echoed with silence yet an undercurrent
screamed through the rooms. The deafening silence had brewed since the park.
The understanding they’d come to. To finish what they’d started. Every time
they’d looked at each other that knowledge flashed between them. The second
half of the work day had stretched on for what felt like a week. She’d been wet
and breathless and fucking terrified every moment as the clock ticked closer and
closer toward the end of the workday.

Ty tossed his briefcase into the corner and turned to her.
Anticipation rippled through every one of his movements. He stepped toward her.
Brooke backed up. The time had finally come and this would only happen one way.

“Go to your room—” she said, her voice taking on a husky
sound as her throat closed. “Take off your clothes—” She caught her breath. “And
wait for me with your back to the door.”

Ty’s eyes shut for a moment then opened slowly. Heat, lust
and raw masculine refusal emanated from him. She knew what he wanted, what he
needed. He wanted to grab her, throw her down and fuck her with every bit of
the frustration her teasing had caused him. She shivered, torn between the urge
to let him, to let him fuck the resistance right out of her and the urge to
swipe his legs out from under him and bring him to his knees.

He breathed in deep, his big chest expanding, then turned.

“Just remember when you get there—you don’t move, don’t
breathe unless I say.”

Ty’s back straightened but he said nothing, just stalked to
his room. Brooke watched him disappear into the hallway and willed her legs to
move, to hold her up. She tugged off her shoes then walked past his room to
hers, pulled the black case out of her bag, undid the zip and stared silently
at the contents. A small taser, expandable baton, torch and…handcuffs. Her
heart fluttered across her ribs. She wiped the back of her hand over her
forehead then reached for the cuffs, curling her fingers around the cool metal.
Calm settled over her as she held them. They told her who she really was.
Bodyguard. Protector. Fighter. Strong enough to seize what she wanted.

She rose and stepped slowly to the bedroom across from hers.
Her heart stopped. Ty’s broad back presented to her, naked down to the soles of
his feet. Her tongue moistened, begging her to fall forward, press her tongue
to the dimples on his lower back where his spine curved out to his bare ass.
Her teeth ached to sink into the hard muscle on his rump.

Ty stood as though he’d been carved of marble. Completely
motionless. A triumphant surge of exhilaration lightened her limbs. She closed
the distance between them, letting his naked backside rest against her belly.
His shoulders, level with her eyes, clenched. She planted her lips briefly
against one twitching muscle then ran her palm down the outside of his arm and
took his hand. His fingers curled around hers and she drew it behind him to the
small of his back. She placed one of the metal handcuff arms around his wrist and
clicked it shut. Ty shuddered and his head fell forward. Satisfaction rippled
through her core. Power rushed over her. Intense liberation.

He was hers to take.

“Are you ready to behave for me, Ty?” She ran her palm over
the curve of his ass, relishing in the way his muscles contracted and tightened
at her touch.

He remained silent. His shoulders moved with giant breaths.

“You are, aren’t you?” she said and brought her palm down
hard on the place she’d just caressed.

He jerked and she saw it—his masculine energy fighting for
dominance.

“Yes, Brooke.”

She closed her eyes and rested her nose against his spine.
Warm sensations she never knew she could experience flooded her for this man.
“Good boy,” she whispered against his skin then reached for his other hand. “Do
you know what happens to good boys?”

“What?”

She turned slowly, leading him by the wrist until his back
was to the wrought iron bed foot. She clicked the free end of the handcuffs to
the edge and placed his un-cuffed hand over the links in the center. He wrapped
his fingers around the chain.

“They get rewarded.”

She placed a hand at his waist and circled him, coming to
stand in front of him. Her head swirled. Fuck this man was amazing. Her fingers
splayed on his abs. This time her gaze didn’t hesitate; it went straight to his
cock. Moisture flooded her pussy and her tongue darted out. Veins corded the
length of his erection, every inch hard and begging.

“You’re hard, Ty. What have you been thinking about?”

He looked up, catching her gaze. Nothing about his
expression said submissive. “I’ve been thinking about you. I’m always thinking
about you.”

Her stomach rose the way it did when she rode a roller
coaster, giving her a full body high. A smile itched along her lips. “Really,
be specific. What have you been thinking?”

His jaw set.

She ran her fingertips over his hip. “What have you been
thinking that’s made you so hard?”

Color rose to his face. Holy shit she’d made Ty blush.

“I’ve been thinking about what you might want me to do,” he
said.

She slapped his thigh. Not hard but the sound crackled
through the room. Ty jerked but didn’t let go of the cuffs.

“I said be specific.”

His lips shook when he looked at her. “I’ve been thinking
about you touching me. I’ve been thinking about you on your knees for me. I’ve
been thinking about you wrapping your sexy fucking lips around my cock the way
you did my thumb.” He panted. “Is that specific enough?”

Her smile faltered as the images assaulted her. She looked
down at his cock. How would it feel in her mouth? It’d be hard and salty and
perfect. She could feel it there, taste it.

“Let go of the cuff and show me how you can stroke your cock
like a good boy.”

Ty shut his eyes and brought his hand to his front then
closed his fingers over his cock. He moved slowly, drawing his palm over the
beautiful pink head.

“Your cock looks good in your hand, you know that?” she
whispered, shifting closer to watch every flex. “Do you do this when I’m not
watching? Do you do this and think about me?”

His hips arched and his head fell back. “Dammit, Brooke. Do
you need to be so cruel?”

Her gaze flicked to his pained expression and she wrapped
her hand over his wrist. He stilled mid pump.

“Am I cruel, Ty?”

He opened his eyes and looked at her. “Very.”

“Why?”

“Because you know exactly how much I want you. You know
exactly what I’ve been dreaming about for years. You know exactly how much I
need you to touch me, and you don’t.”

She rested her cheek against his chest and breathed in the
spicy masculine scent of him. “You’re right. But I still want to hear.”

“Jesus. I don’t know if I can say.” The skin under her hand
trembled.

Brooke moved behind him again, pulled a key from her bra and
undid the cuffs.

“Thank God,” Ty whispered and made to turn.

Brooke grabbed his shoulder. “No.” She took his free hand
and cuffed it to the other, manacling him to the bed frame. “I’m not done with
you yet.”

Her gaze washed over him and every part of her curled in
pleasure. She stroked his belly, trailing her fingertips over his fine hairs.
His cock twitched. His big beautiful cock that wasn’t half as scary with his
hands chained behind him.

“I asked you a question.”

He glanced at her fingers on his belly, his forehead
creased. “Yes,” he whispered.

“Yes what?”

His gaze snapped to hers. “Yes I touch my cock and think
about you. I can’t remember a night when I haven’t.”

Her stomach fluttered as though someone opened a barrel of
moths.

“Thank you,” she whispered then stepped back, hooking a
thumb under a dress strap. “Have you thought about me naked?”

He stared at her shoulder and his Adam's apple moved. “All
the fucking time.”

She tugged one side down then moved to the other and pulled
that strap down too. “And what happens when you think of me naked?”

“I get hard.”

She slid the dress to her waist where it hooked on her hips.
“That’s right. I’m the one who makes you hard.” She peeled the black fabric
over her hips and kicked it aside.

Ty growled and rushed forward. The bed frame groaned and
rattled and his thick arms jerked and strained behind him.

Brooke’s heart hiccupped. She breathed, reminding herself he
was chained—contained—at her disposal. If he’d forgotten that, it was her job
to remind him.

She raised a finger at him. “No.”

He fell back but his eyes blazed and the muscles on his
shoulders rose.

“Naughty Ty,” she said and closed the gap. “It’s interesting
that you say you want me on my knees.” She touched his shoulder, running her
hand up the back of his neck and to his hair. “Because I’ve been dreaming of
you on yours.” She closed her fist in his hair and tugged.

He went down, smoothly sinking to his knees. His arms lifted
behind his back. Instead of resisting he smiled. A dark, seductive smile that
switched their roles, put him in the driver’s seat. Her mind went blank. She
had him on his knees. She had Ty on his knees and had no idea what to do with
him. All she could see was his sexy grin, his straining muscles, his lips
inches from her skin.

Then he leaned forward, pressed his open mouth on her belly.
He kissed her just above her panties, his warm, wet tongue sliding against her
flesh. Swirls of pleasure radiated to her pussy. She clutched his hair, half to
pull him closer, half to hold herself upright. His tongue flicked over a small
scar above her panty line. She twitched but then he moved, dragged his face
over the lace covering her.

Her neck, face, chest, arms, stomach flushed hot.

He inhaled against her crotch. “Fuck, you smell like heaven,”
he whispered and ran his nose from the top of her pubic bone to her labia. “I
knew you would.”

She stared at him, her fingers tightening in his hair. Her
wrist shook. Her breath hitched. Ty gazed up from her panties. He opened his
jaw, closing his mouth over her lace-covered mound, grazing her clit. Her hips
arched.

Tension tightened between her legs, begging her thighs to
spread, begging her to open up, begging her to let Ty push her over a ledge her
entire being strained toward. His tongue pushed out, pressing against the thin
fabric covering her and wedged between her folds.

Brooke gasped, pleasure and panic slamming through her
system and lighting color behind her eyes. She jerked on his hair, arching away
from his touch.

Her skin chilled, aching for his warmth. Ty panted. Her body
screamed, need clawing, turning her inside out. The urge to cry squeezed her ribs.
This need was like being frozen, seeing a fire right in front of you but being
so damn sure that instead of thawing you, the flames would incinerate you.

She needed him, needed to touch him, to feel him. Brooke sank
to her knees in front of Ty, ran her hands over his shoulders, rubbed her palms
up his neck, his stubble scraping her skin. She touched his jaw, stroked her
thumbs under his lips and kissed him.

His tongue met hers and her vision clouded. Her eyelids sank
and all she could do was taste him, breathe him, touch him. She rubbed herself
against his chest, her nipples hard as glass through her bra. She touched,
groped, caressed every part of him she could reach. Ty groaned into her mouth,
kissing her as though he could extract her soul through her lips. She scraped
her nails over his naked ass.

His bare cock brushed her belly.

Her heart jumped, painfully flipping over. She broke the
kiss, arching away from his cock but unable to let him go completely.

Ty kissed along her jaw, sucked her earlobe. Shivers
trembled her pussy.

“Enough, Brooke. Whatever you want, you win.” He rested his
forehead against her temple. “I yield. I give whatever you’re after—anything.”
His voice broke. “Please enough playing. I want you.”

Brooke sank her teeth into her lip and tasted blood. Every
part of her screamed yes—every part of her screamed no. Every part of her
wanted to cry—to crumble—to give in—to run.

“I need you, I need to touch you.” His breath tickled her
ear. “Un-cuff me,” he begged.

She fell back onto her heels. Cold ripped the heat right out
of her. Nausea turned her stomach.

What the fuck had she thought would happen? She’d reduced Ty
to begging, toyed with a man she knew wanted her and thought he’d be content
with kinky foreplay? This halfway lovemaking would never be enough for him.

It would never be enough for her either.

The attraction between them had gravitational forces. They
were just in orbit, getting sucked closer and closer to a crashing death.

He wasn’t the only one who’d spent five years longing.

She pressed her palms over her face. Her head spun, oxygen
ceased replenishing.

“Brooke?” Ty whispered.

I’m fucked. I’m fucked. I’m fucked.

She panted into her hands. She’d never be normal. How had
she done this? How had she thought she could go here?

“Brooke,” he said louder.

She shot to her feet and stumbled around him. “I’m so sorry.
I shouldn’t have started this.” She fumbled in her bra for the handcuffs key.
It fell to the ground beside his knee. “I should never have done any of this.”
She knelt and picked up the key. “I’m so sorry.”

Ty twisted, trying to look at her. “What’s happening,
Brooke?”

She jammed the key toward the lock. The key slipped, making
grinding sounds on the metal.

“I’m so sorry,” she repeated.

The key found the lock and she turned it, yanking the arms
open then backing away from him. Ty rose slowly then faced her. He said nothing
but the look on his face said it all—he’d just figured out her secrets.