Nailed (4 page)

“Because he and his brothers own one of the hottest
development companies out there today. If I can land them it would be a score
in my favor.”

“Jack, I’m all for your success.” She busied herself
shifting folders around. “But again, what does that have to do with me?”

“Two things.” He moved forward until he was standing in
front of her desk. “First of all, if we land this account I get high marks with
Larkin. Secondly, Tyler McMann is one good-looking dude. He might even appeal
to
you
.”

Jen ground her teeth. “As a compliment, that falls a little
flat. As an enticement, it’s worthless. Besides, you know I never mix business
with pleasure.”

He leaned forward, hands flat on the desk. “You never mix
business with business, either. What’s that all about? Jen doesn’t have to go
to client meetings?”

She wanted to smack him with something. How dare he shove
himself into her space. The Domme side of her surfaced without warning and she
rose from her chair, nearly nose to nose with him.

“What it’s all about is none of your fucking business.” She
spit her words out, each one like the slice of a knife. She curled her fingers
into fists. “Now get the hell out of my office.”

Jack Shelton looked as if she’d just doused him with ice
water. His eyes bugged out and his jaw dropped. He backed up slowly.

“Jesus, Jen. Put away the claws.” Then he stopped and gave
her a slow smile. “But it’s nice to know there’s some fire beneath that layer
of ice.”

“Out,” she repeated. “Right now.”

The minute he left she came out from behind her desk and
closed the door. Then she dropped into a chair in front of her desk and put her
head in her hands. Why was this happening now? She’d been going to Finesse for
seven years, ever since what she thought of as her forever relationship went
sour. She deliberately dressed the way she did at work and behaved the way she
did so she gave no clue as to the person under that public image she’d created.
Only as Flame could she really be herself.

Now her two lives seemed to be colliding in a very public
arena and she wasn’t sure what to do about it. Or how she was going to avoid
Tyler McMann, whom apparently she now shared a building with.

Damn, damn, damn!

Unable to concentrate on the work awaiting her, she opened
her browser and Googled Tyler McMann.

The day had been a busy one for Tyler and at seven o’clock
he was ready for it to be over. He had three fairly large jobs in progress in a
three-county area and he’d paid a visit to each one. Beginning tomorrow, he’d
spend a full day at each site, coordinating with the job supervisor. He had at
least three weeks before he had to return to Wyoming. Plenty of time to give
his attention to the jobs in process and start the hunt for sharp, dependable
guys to hire on permanently. He’d be watching the ones already in place to see
if they were good candidates.

Now he was dusty and tired and pissed at all the traffic
he’d had to fight his way through. He just wanted to go home and have a hot
shower and a cold beer. But there were additional specs for one of the jobs he
needed so here he was waiting for the elevator that would take him from the
garage to the floor where the offices were. He was pretty sure his brothers had
already left and probably most of the other tenants also.

He waited impatiently for the elevator, ready to hop in as
soon as the door opened. Preoccupied with his thoughts he nearly mowed down the
woman stepping off. She stopped, her expression like a deer caught in the
headlights. He was sure she was the woman Jack Shelton had tried to introduce
him to earlier in the day. He recognized the stuffy suit and the tightass
hairstyle.

For a moment they were frozen like a tableau. Tyler’s eyes
locked on hers and something sizzled inside him.

Really? Miss Stick-up-her-ass?

She pushed her way past him, leaving him to stare after her.

“Hey,” he called. “Jen?”

The woman paused for a nanosecond then kept on walking.
Okay. Maybe he was wrong and it wasn’t her. Could this building be filled with
women who looked like that? If that was so, how come he’d never seen them
before? He had, after all, a reputation as someone who appreciated the female
flesh. Even now, his eyes fastened on the slight sway of the woman’s ass, more
tantalizing because she tried to camouflage it with her outfit.

As fast as she was walking, she disappeared quickly down the
row of cars. There was something about that ass… Tyler shook his head. He was
obviously imagining things. But he instantly thought of Flame, naked and bent
over the padded bench as he fucked her from behind. At once his cock hardened
and a tingle raced through his balls.

Maybe instead of beer and bed, he’d drop in at Finesse. Work
off some of this excess testosterone suddenly surging through his system. Maybe
tonight Flame would be there. Daks had told him she only played on the weekends
but there was always a chance she might change her schedule. If she was there,
maybe he could cajole Marco into squeezing him into her schedule.

Just maybe.

Chapter Four

Jenyfer Mayhew sat in Marco’s office wondering why she was
so nervous and hoping it didn’t show. The dungeon master watched her with
curiosity but said little, taking his cue from her. He was well aware she was
breaking her rule coming here on a weeknight. She had good reason for those
rules. If she played hard on Friday and Saturday nights, she had Sunday to
recuperate before work on Monday. And Marco always set limits for her Doms
before each scene. She didn’t have to worry about sitting on a very sore ass at
work or dealing with any other residual effects.

So why was she here on a weeknight? Because seeing Tyler
McMann had thrown her off her game. A lot. Having a last name to go with the
first somehow personalized him to her and that was definitely not good. Outside
the confines of Finesse she never mixed her two personalities.She was afraid she was about to cross her invisible line in the
sand.

She was still dressed in the slacks and a sweater she’d worn
from home. She didn’t become Flame until she changed into her signature outfit
and donned her club persona. Coming here tonight was probably a mistake but
after nearly being knocked over by Tyler McMann in the parking garage, she
hadn’t been able to get him out of her mind. Marco had been curious when she
called to ask if she could come in the back entrance but he seldom refused her
anything. Not when she was one of his star attractions.

He said he was going to call Marco. I should just have
waited. Now he’ll think I’m going out of my way to be with him.

And that might give him power she didn’t want him to have.
Jen wanted to bang her head on the desk. How stupid she was. Had she learned
nothing from the disaster she’d barely extricated herself from?

“If you’re as worried about it as you look, you should just
go home and forget about tonight,” Marco told her. He poured a glass of water
and handed it to her across the desk. “You’ve worked very hard to keep Flame a
separate entity. Why endanger it now?”

Because there is something about this man that makes me
want to break all my rules. That makes me feel more than simple desire for him.

She sipped the water slowly, trying to formulate her words.
She knew Marco was right. She was taking a big chance here. But it seemed she
couldn’t help herself.

“He interests me,” she said at last. “And I like to think
that after all this time I still have control over myself when I need it.”

Marco studied her, a concerned look on his face. He was the
only one who knew the story of her heartbreak and disaster and was a very good
friend.

“I hope you’re right,” he told her. “But there’s no
guarantee he’ll show up tonight. You know that. And this isn’t even one of
your
regular nights.”

She nodded. “I know. I just took a chance. If he doesn’t
show I’ll just leave by the back door and no one will be the wiser. What about
my room?”

“I made sure it’s available.” He leaned back in his chair.
“I’m curious. Why didn’t you just have me call him as he requested and schedule
him in?”

Jenyfer shrugged. “I think I’d feel better about it if it
happened spontaneously.”

One corner of Marco’s mouth tilted in a half smile. “Might
you be looking for something more here than just a different partner?”

Was she? No. She wouldn’t let herself think in that
direction. She shook her head.

“I just find him…interesting.”

The phone buzzed on Marco’s desk and he picked up the
receiver.

“Yes? Fine. Very good. Thanks.” He replaced the receiver and
looked at Jen. “That was Daks. Tyler’s here and scanning the crowd. Either he’s
hoping you decided to show up on a weeknight or he’s in need of some heavy
sexual release.”

Jen’s stomach flip-flopped. “Well, then. I guess I’d better
get dressed.”

Marco stood as she picked up her purse and headed for the
office door. “Good luck.”

“Thanks. I’ll probably need it.”

She tried to stop her hands from shaking as she changed
clothes in the women’s dressing room. As she pulled on the tall boots and laced
the bustier, her anxiety faded. By the time she’d brushed out her long mane of
hair, rouged her lips and fastened the mask in place, Jenyfer Mayhew had
disappeared and Flame had taken her place.

One last look in the mirror and she was ready. Striding
confidently down the hall to the lounge, she scanned the people sitting in
pairs or groups. Some of those she knew nodded then went back to their own
activities.

She spotted Tyler at the bar where she’d first seen him.
Tonight he was dressed all in black—long-sleeved shirt and slacks—that accented
his golden masculine beauty. He turned his head and his gaze locked with hers.
He lifted his coffee mug in the gesture of a toast and his powerful muscles
rippled beneath his shirt. Flame ran her tongue seductively across her lower
lip, never taking her eyes from him. She waited to see what he would do.

He took his time, setting his mug on the bar and moving
slowly across the lounge to her. She forced herself to stand still, waiting for
him. As he got nearer, she lowered her head, her silent signal of submission.
Now it was up to him.

He didn’t stand next to her as much as he invaded her space,
his wonderful male scent reminding her of forests and lakes. She was sure she
could breathe in his essence forever.

A lean finger touched her chin and tilted up her head. Dark
brown eyes highlighted with gold flecks looked into hers.

“You have the club collar on. Does that mean you’re
available tonight? Or as Daks told me, is it just a hands-off symbol except to
those Doms on your schedule?”

How should she answer him? Her dominant and submissive sides
warred within her. She wanted him to take her and do whatever he wished with
her. At the same time she no longer gave complete control to any man, even
during playtime. Perhaps that was one reason she was so in demand. Each Dom
wanted to be the one to break through that thin wall. But she had to keep at
least some tenuous hold on this particular situation. Establish some ground
rules. If he didn’t like them…

“Maybe I wanted to choose someone new tonight.” She said it
with just a touch of impertinence.

“So you have an open schedule?” he asked. His fingers still
held her chin, forcing her to look up at him. Awareness flared in his eyes, as
if he knew she was playing some kind of game. “I was told you never come to
Finesse during the week.”

God! The deep timbre of his voice sent shivers ricocheting
through her.

“That’s correct.”

“Then why are you here tonight?” When she said nothing he
cupped her chin with all his fingers, tightening them a fraction. “A good sub
knows enough to answer all questions. Truthfully. Now. Why are you here
tonight?” Heat flared in his eyes. “Is it because you hoped I’d be here?”

“Yes, Master.”

His smile was filled with satisfaction. “Good. Then I’m glad
I’m here. Do I need to let Marco know you’re taken for the evening?”

A tiny thrill skated through her. “Am I?”

“Damn straight.”

She let out a breath. “Then I’ll inform Marco.”

His hand slid to her wrist, his fingers closing around it.
“We’ll tell him together. If any other Dom thinks he can have you after me he’s
very much mistaken.”

He led her to where the dungeon master was leaning against a
wall, a half-smile playing on his lips. He had a slim key card between two
fingers. As they approached he held it out to her.

“I’ll take it.” Tyler plucked it from his hand.

Marco looked at Flame, arching one eyebrow.

She nodded, afraid if she spoke again she’d betray both her
nervousness and eagerness. It had been a long time since she really wanted a
man the way she wanted Tyler McMann. There was a lot more than sexual desire
bubbling up inside her. Past history warned her not to go down this road again
but she seemed unable to help herself. Her body had locked away her brain.

Tyler led her down the hall, his fingers still clamped
around her wrist. At the door to her room he slid the card into the lock,
pushed the door open and led her inside.

This was all so different to her. Even in her preferred role
as a sub, she usually waited in the room for the Dom to enter, prepared to
follow his instructions. Setting it up that way, she still maintained a
semblance of control. Tyler had taken that away from her and rather than making
her anxious she was filled with anticipation.

After closing the door, Tyler led her to the middle of the
room and dropped her hand. He took a step back and folded his arms across his
chest.

“I want the bustier off. Now. And slowly.”

She unfastened the laces one at a time, her movements
deliberately teasing.

Don’t tempt the tiger.

But something inside her made her provocative. Playful. And
from the look in Tyler’s eyes he was far from angry.

When the laces were completely undone she slid the garment
slowly to the side and dropped it on the floor next to her. Then stood awaiting
his next command.

“You are so hot wearing nothing but those boots and that
damn mask.” Desire gave his voice a husky quality. “Spread your legs.”

She moved her feet as far apart as she could and still keep
her balance. Tyler moved close to her and slid a finger between the lips of her
pussy. Flame sucked in a breath. Just his touch seemed to set her on fire. When
he pinched and tugged her clit, she had a hard time maintaining her balance.

“You’re already wet for me.” He smiled with satisfaction.
“That’s good. I like my subs good and slick.” He gave her clit one last pinch
and stepped back. “But I sense a little impertinence in you tonight. Before we
begin I think a little punishment is in order.”

The pulse in her cunt throbbed harder and her breath caught
in her throat. Would he choose the crop again? The paddle? The cane? Maybe two
different implements? She watched him study the various items racked against
one wall then turn back to look at her. A flutter set up in her tummy when he
selected a very thin cane, a triple leather slapper—three wide strips of
leather held together with a wrapped handle—and a bloodwood ruler. Three
instruments? Truly? Lust surged through her and sent a fresh spate of cream
into her pussy.

He placed all three items on a small table and carried it
over to where she was standing.

“Let’s up the ante a little tonight, shall we?” The smile he
gave her was positively wolfish with hunger. Testosterone fairly oozed from his
body. “What do you think?”

“Yes, Master. I would like that.”

His gaze raked her body then settled on her face. “Warning.
No matter how this arouses you, do not under any circumstances come without my
command. Understood?”

She nodded.

“Good.” He looked around the room as if searching for
something, spied a heavily padded ottoman against one wall and dragged it over.

“On your knees,” he ordered. “Bend over so your upper body
and your head are resting on this.”

When she was kneeling and braced on the ottoman he adjusted
her body to his satisfaction. She watched him move away and open a drawer in
the big chest, remove some items and then he was back beside her.

“One of the things I enjoy the most is the heightening of
senses. Don’t you?”

“Yes, Master. I do.” She grinned, knowing he could see her.

In return he pinched each cheek of her ass.

“Wench,” he growled. “You must be begging for your
punishment. Let’s see how you like it in the dark.”

In the dark? Oh god. How did he know she loved it that way,
when she could see nothing and the most prevalent sense was that of touch? She
was afraid she’d come just from his preparations.

I should have talked to him more. Explained myself. Let
him know what an aphrodisiac pain is for me. Let him know…

What if…?

No. Stop it. He’s different.

She drew in a deep, calming breath and let it out slowly.

Seconds later a soft band of silk covered her eyes, the ends
tied behind her head. The binding pressed the mask into her face but she
welcomed the tiny bite of pain. Next her hands were tugged behind her back and
soft cuffs clamped around them. Finally her legs were pushed apart and what she
knew was a spreader manacled to each ankle. She lay there without sight,
helpless, her legs far apart, Tyler behind her. Which instrument would he use
first? The anticipation grew feverishly.

He ran his hand over the curve of her buttocks, the
callouses on his warm palm slightly abrading her skin. She remembered from what
she’d read on the Internet that he was the brother who handled all of the
construction. Obviously he did more than supervise.

“I like a little spice in my sauce.” His voice rolled over
her like warm molasses. “But I think we need to make sure we both know who’s in
charge here.”

Flame had learned early on that spanking was a sensation
heightener. And that it established right from the start who was in charge.
Wielding the instrument was like wielding a sword and whoever held the sword
held the power. She just had to keep reminding herself to limit that power
without appearing to.

Without warning, he removed his hand and instantly she felt
the smack of the leather slapper, along with the first release of endorphins.
Heat burned through her at once, warming her ass and the lips of her cunt. She
jerked slightly then did her best to hold still. The triple straps intensified
the sting and sent it vibrating everywhere. The next slap descended and another
one. He alternated between her buttocks and the backs of her thighs, even
placing a light tap on her fully exposed cunt. She was overcome with an urge to
squeeze her legs together, an impossibility with the spreader. When she tried
to rub herself against the rough fabric of the ottoman another blow descended,
this one the sharpest of all.