Power Play: Katie and the Dom (2 page)

“Take
another look, little brother.” Liam sneered over his shoulder at Patrick and
then turned his attention back to Katie, taking the ball-gag gently from her
mouth, glistening with her saliva. “She’s sobbing.”

“Aardvark!
Aardvark! Aardvark!” Katie croaked hoarsely, her face full of tears and snot
and, she imagined, a great deal of mascara.

“Your
safeword?” Liam guessed, using the sleeve of his black turtleneck to gently
wipe her cheeks.

She nodded,
looking at Patrick, her chin quivering. “I tried to say… I tried…”

“But we
hadn’t even started,” Patrick whispered, his expression moving from anger to
confusion.

“You need to
pay attention!” Liam roared and Katie shrank back from him as he shifted focus to
his brother. “Every minute. Every second.
Every single fucking breath.
” Liam’s
jaw clenched as he turned back to Katie, his massive hands gentle as he
loosened her wrist straps, moving more carefully when he saw the fear in her
eyes.

“I told you
that you weren’t ready for this!” Liam’s words were meant for his brother but
she felt them resonate in her belly like a tuning fork.

Patrick
stood, blinking, his crop forgotten, falling to the floor. “Rookie mistake?” he
whispered, his face pained as he watched his brother take Katie down from the
restraints, her body collapsing. Liam cradled her against his chest.

“Not to
her,” Liam snapped, his voice growing quiet as he shifted his attention. “What’s
your name?”

“K-K-Katie…”
she managed. She was shivering now, uncontrollably, although she had no idea
why. She tried to speak, to tell him what had happened, that it was just a
mistake, she’d made a mistake, but no words would come out, just little hitches
in her throat from crying so hard.

“We’re going
to get you dressed now, Katie, okay?” Liam stroked her hair as he reached
behind her to unfasten her leg restraints one-handed. She clung to him—he was
solid as a tree trunk, but far more pliable and warm. He got her other leg
undone and pulled her fully into his arms.

“Patrick,
hand me that blanket.” There was a black one in the corner, meant for sensory
deprivation, Katie guessed—she’d read extensively about the subject. It was
soft and Liam wrapped it around her shoulders, pulling her slowly to a standing
position, but her legs felt like jelly and wouldn’t hold her, so he scooped her
up, his arm under her knees, like she was just a little bit of fluff, carrying
her over to the big bed in the corner.

“Patrick,
get me a glass of milk,” Liam ordered, sitting on the edge of the bed. Katie
couldn’t quite grasp what was happening. Her mind felt as if it was going in
slow-motion, not able to catch up.

“Milk?”

“Go!” Liam
growled, waving his brother away. Patrick left, looking for all the world like
a puppy slinking away with his tail tucked between his legs. Even still in
costume, shirtless with his leather pants and snakeskin boots, to Katie, he
looked like a little boy playing dress-up in his father’s clothes.

“I’m sorry.”
Liam apologized, letting out a pent-up breath and wrapping the blanket more
tightly around her. “Your first time?”

Katie nodded
against his chest, not wanting to open her eyes and look at him—at anything.
She wished she could disappear, or wake up from this crazy dream she was
having.

“How did he
find you?” His hand smoothed her dark hair down her back, the motion incredibly
soothing. Her trembling was beginning to subside.

“I answered
an ad, on…on Craigslist,” she admitted with a whisper.

“Sonofabitch.”
His jaw tightened again. She could feel it. His arms around her tightened too.
“Finally!”

Katie opened
her eyes to see Patrick had reappeared holding a glass filled with milk.

“You stay
right here.” Liam put her gently on the bed. It was covered in black
silk—sheets, duvet cover. Except for the red heart accent pillows. Somehow she
found those sweet—and strangely amusing. It made her want to giggle and she
did, trying to stifle the sound with her hand.

“What’s the
matter with her?” Patrick whispered to his brother as Liam took the glass of milk
over to the dresser. There were candles there, unlit, and a decanter filled
with amber colored fluid.

“Shock,”
Liam said shortly, pouring from the decanter into the milk.

“I don’t
understand,” Patrick whispered, looking back over his shoulder at Katie. He was
looking at her like she had three heads or something. She hugged the blanket
more tightly around her, even pulling her feet up underneath, as if she could
make herself completely disappear. “She gave her consent. Everything was fine,
and then all of a sudden…”

“It can
happen. That fast.” Liam turned to his brother, holding the milk glass in his
hand, cloudy with alcohol. “I’ve told you time and again, Patrick—you’re a top.
You’re not a dominant. You can’t do what I do.”

Katie
blinked up at Liam as he approached, holding the milk out to her. “Drink this.”

She reached
for the glass, studying the liquid with a frown. She knew what Lori would
say—could hear her friend screeching in her head about being drugged and raped
and dismembered—but when she looked into the man’s eyes, she trusted him.
Utterly. Completely. She took the milk and began to drink.

“Good girl.”
When he smiled, just a brief flash, she thought she might faint. The world
actually tilted sideway for a moment, and she clutched her glass like a little
girl, her blanket falling away from her shoulders, making her shiver.

“Patrick,
hand me her clothes.”

Liam took
her half-empty glass and set it aside as he helped her get dressed. She flushed
bright pink as he slid her panties—sexy, black lace, bought just for the
occasion—up her thighs. He even turned her around so he could hook her bra
before helping her pull the soft, brown cashmere sweater she’d worn over her
head. Her hair stuck out, full of static, and he smoothed it before sitting her
down on the bed, getting her into her jeans, one leg at a time.

“Drink,”
Liam instructed, putting the glass back in her hands and sitting beside her on
the bed. She did as she was told, watching as he took one of her bare feet into
his lap. In spite of the fact that he’d just seen her completely nude and had
rectified that situation mostly himself, there was something incredibly
intimate about watching him put on her socks for her.

“Shoes?”
Liam glared at his brother and Patrick produced a pair of brown clogs. Liam
raised an eyebrow, looking at her. “These aren’t exactly made for the weather,
are they?”

She flushed,
murmuring against the lip of the glass. “They’re fashionable.”

He didn’t
say anything as he slipped them on her feet, taking Katie’s offered coat from
Patrick.

“Think you
can stand now?” Liam asked.

“I’m fine.” She
swung her legs over the side of the bed and slid off, setting the milk on the
night table beside it. The world tilted again as she stood, but when she
wobbled, Liam was right there at her elbow, solid as a rock.

“I’m sorry,
Katie…” Patrick said as he watched his brother help her with her coat.

She smiled
at him, trying to remind herself who he was.
Oh right, he’s the guy from the
ad, the one who was supposed to do all those things I wanted…
For some
reason, she’d almost forgotten he existed at all!

“It wasn’t
your fault,” she murmured, Liam’s hands on her shoulders warm and heavy, a
delightful weight.

“Oh it was,
decidedly
,
his fault.” Liam’s voice was low and serious as he glared at his brother,
retrieving Katie’s purse from the dresser where she’d left it. “How did you get
here?”

“I drove.” She
took her purse. Yes, she vaguely remembered bringing it with her, setting it on
the dresser, looking at Patrick in his leather pants and snakeskin boots.
They’d seemed so sexy at the time, but now all she could see was the hulk of a
man in front of her, his gaze never leaving her face.

“I’m going
to drive you home,” Liam told her, reaching around her to pick up the glass of
milk. “Patrick will follow in your car.”

“That’s not
necessary.” Sanity was beginning to return—at least, she thought it was. She
was embarrassed by her actions. By this whole situation.

“Yes it is,”
Liam insisted, holding the glass out. There was only a little bit left. “Drink
the rest.”

She did,
dutifully, and blushed when Liam used his sleeve—the one he hadn’t used to wipe
her face earlier—to dab the milk mustache from her upper lip.

“Feel a
little better?”

“Thank you.”
She smiled up at him, buttoning her coat, strangely much more steady on her
feet now, in spite of the alcohol. “You really don’t have to drive me home.”

“Keys.” Liam
shook his head, holding his hand out to take them when she retrieved her key
ring from her coat pocket. “I don’t want you driving, not in your condition.
Besides, it’s snowing.”

“It is?” she
asked as he handed her car keys over to Patrick, Liam guiding her up the
stairs. Outside, the world had gone white. There was nothing more thrilling than
the first snow of the season and it lifted her spirits, falling around them in heavy,
fat flakes.

“What are
you doing?” Liam asked, opening the passenger door to a red sports car, waving
her inside. Katie laughed, tilting her head back and trying to catch snowflakes,
turning in lazy circles.

“Whoa,
there!” Liam grabbed her around the waist as a wave of dizziness washed over
her. He smiled, bemused. She liked his smile. “Get in. Before you end up face
down in the snow.”

Katie let
him urge her into the car. “Oh don’t worry, I’m sure my humiliation bucket is quite
full for the day.”

He laughed,
shutting the door, telling his brother to follow him before getting in beside
her.

“What kind
of car is this?” she inquired, running a finger over the pristine white,
leather interior. The car was a deep, dark red, very low to the ground. The
engine purred to life when he turned the key.

“A
Maserati.” He glanced over, raising an eyebrow. “Put your seatbelt on.”

“Buckle up
for safety.” She giggled, pulling the harness across and searching for the
latch. He let her fumble for a moment before reaching over and taking it out of
her hand, clicking it seamlessly into place.

“You’re good
at that.” Katie felt his breath against her cheek. They were just inches away
from each other in the closed space of the vehicle, just close enough that she
could focus on the little flecks of gold in his dark eyes. She hadn’t noticed
that before.

“Thanks.” He
smiled—she really did like his smile—and moved back fully into the driver’s
seat, reaching for his own buckle.

“
Click it
or Kick it
.” She giggled again as he looked sideways at her, that sexy
smile playing on his lips.

“I think
it’s
Click it or Ticket
,” he corrected, putting the car into reverse—it
was a stick shift, and watching him manipulate the gearshift was… well, it was
hot.

“I think I’m
a little drunk,” she confessed, watching out the window as Patrick finished
clearing her little Honda’s windshield of snow.

“Lightweight,
huh?” He chuckled, pulling out of the driveway, checking in the rearview mirror
to make sure his brother was ready to follow.

“It’s a
convertible?” She fingered one of the buttons, curious.

“Yes.” He
took her hand and put it back into her lap.” But I don’t advise letting the top
down. Not in this weather.”

“Sorry.” She
blinked at him as he stopped at the corner, looking at her expectantly.

“Which way,
Katie?”

“Oh…” She
giggled. “I get to give
you
directions? I bet that’s a switch.”

“Yes.” He
laughed, turning left when she pointed. “And for the record, I’m all Dom,
sweetheart. Not an ounce of Switch in me.”

The roads
were slick with snow—it was coming down even heavier now—but Liam took the
curves without any hint of hesitation. She glanced back over her shoulder,
making sure Patrick was following. She had driven her vehicle long enough to
know it couldn’t handle roads like this quite as well as Liam’s sports car.

“Are you
cold?” Liam glanced over at her, huddled against the door. “You’re shivering.”

“I am?” She
hadn’t noticed but her teeth chattered when she said it. “My feet got wet.
Stupid clogs.”

“That’s what
you get for trading practicality for fashion.” He turned on the heat.

Katie sighed
with relief, leaning in toward the vent. The air was warm against her cheeks,
but her lower half was still cold.

“Put your
feet on the dash.” Liam pushed another button and she felt warm air near the
windshield.

She
hesitated, looking sideways at him and then at the spotless, white leather
dashboard. It looked soft and supple enough to sleep on. “Are you sure?”

“Take your
shoes off,” he instructed. “And put your feet up.”

She did,
leaning back in the seat, the warm air beginning to thaw her frozen toes. “Ohhh
that’s so yummy.”

Liam guided
the car onto the expressway at her direction—it was almost a straight shot to
her house now—glancing occasionally in the rearview to check on his brother,
and keeping an eye on her in the passenger seat.

“How fast
can this car go?” she inquired, watching him shift gears, easing the vehicle
faster.

He shifted
again, settling at a respectable speed, considering the weather. “About two-hundred
miles an hour.”

She gave a
low whistle, shaking her head. “I bet no one can keep up with you.”

“You could
say that.” He didn’t look at her, but a smile played at the corners of his
mouth.

Katie
wiggled her toes—they were finally getting warm—and watched him out of the
corner of her eye. He was way more handsome than Patrick, she decided. Less
boyish and far more broad than his brother, Liam had an air of quiet confidence
and experience about him that made her feel immediately at ease. She remembered
how quickly he had taken charge of things in the basement, but she didn’t dwell
on that thought, her face burning at the memory. What had she been thinking?