Jack was pissed.
When he’d first realized that Red and Professor Prickly were one and the same, he’d been shocked. Then he’d been aroused by the memories of eating her out and making her orgasm last night, not to mention damn near euphoric knowing he wasn’t going to have to settle for fucking a woman who looked like his witch, but instead would get the real deal.
But now he was pissed. Goddamn pissed. For a combination of reasons.
First of all, it irritated him to no end to realize that for the past two years he’d been pining away for a woman who had let him know in no uncertain terms through her holier-than-thou pompous tones and attitude that she was too good for him, only to find out she’d been for sale to the highest bidder all along.
No, no, that couldn’t be right, he qualified with a frown. She was new here, so obviously this was her first time, but…why then?
Why was she working for John?
He stilled.
John. John, his best friend who had masturbated her, he thought angrily, his heart rate speeding up.
Sweet Jesus that better have been all the man had done.
And there she was on the other side of the tiki hut serving drinks to every man but him. Jack was forced to sit at his table and do nothing while he watched a bunch of spoiled men who’d been born with silver spoons in their mouths grope and fondle her. With every moment that passed by he grew angrier and angrier—and more determined to be the highest bidder at the auction. If he had to watch one more goddamn man run his hands over her sweet ass…
She had been assigned to work the table he was seated at, but he had heard her beg John to give her another one. Any table, she had said. Any table but his.
Worse yet, John had backed down and had complied, leaving Jack pissed off at him too. He felt like he was purposely being toyed with, the way his supposed best friend had dangled Kris Torrence in front of him like a piece of ripe cheese and then snatched her away. He was being toyed with and he wasn’t the type of man to take insult lightly.
Of course, he conceded, John didn’t know that Red was his witch.
“Last call,” a naked busty blonde named Barbi cheerfully called out from the bar. “Closing time is in ten minutes.”
Jack glanced away as a drunken patron reached for Barbi’s big breasts and dove his face into them with a groan while she giggled. He checked his watch. Two-fifty a.m.
Ten more minutes and John and the women would retire to a private bar to wind down for the evening. He’d make sure he was invited.
For the next ten minutes Jack sat in his seat, his eyes narrowed angrily at the sweet ass he refused to look away from. With every hand he saw touch it, with every set of eyes that grazed over her naked, oiled body, his possessiveness increased until he felt ready to explode.
Tomorrow was Exploration Day. He’d be on her like white on rice to make sure no man but him touched her.
The next day he could buy her. And she’d be all his.
While he waited for the ten minutes to pass, he thought up the various things he would do to her when that body belonged to him.
All of the things he hadn’t been able to do in the Massage Hut.
* * * * *
By the time three a.m. rolled around Kris was tired and weary. She’d tried to enjoy all the sensual touching she’d experienced, but much to her dismay she hadn’t. She could only assume her lack of interest in the hedonism going on around her was due to
him
.
The Grinch.
She nibbled on her lower lip as she and Elizabeth followed the others to a remote, first floor tiki bar to unwind from the crazy atmosphere that had permeated the evening. Would Jack McKenna rat her out to the university, she wondered? The very worry of it made her stomach knot until she felt like she might vomit.
Her entire life as she knew it was about to end. She would lose her tenure, if not her job altogether, and be forced to retire in disgrace.
And all because she had wanted to bring a little bit of excitement into her life.
Elizabeth had assured her that none of the men here would rat her out because in order to do so they would have to admit they’d been to Hotel Atlantis, but clearly Elizabeth had never dealt with Jack McKenna before. The big bruiser wouldn’t care who knew he’d been to Hotel Atlantis. In fact, she thought grimly, he’d probably be proud of it. Sort of like a notch on the bedpost.
When she arrived at the bar, the first thing she did was take a deep breath. The second thing she did was down the pina colada Elizabeth had handed off to her in less than a minute.
“Sheesh! That was quick.” Elizabeth grinned. “Care for another?”
Kris sighed. She smiled when John walked by and handed her another pina colada, then turned back to Elizabeth who was standing up leaning against the bar just like she was.
Her eyes absently flicked over Elizabeth’s perfect, naked body. It was strange, she thought, but it hadn’t taken her long to accustom herself to total nudity. Once she had been out there in front of the men and exposed to them, she had quit feeling shy in less than ten minutes.
“I’m having one hell of a bad night,” Kris confessed. She saluted her friend with the tropical drink, then proceeded to sip from it.
Elizabeth’s brow furrowed. “Why? I saw that Frenchmen all over you and he is so damn hot.” She playfully nudged her in the shoulder and smiled. “Bet he bids on you.”
“Bet he doesn’t win.”
Kris froze at the sound of that very familiar, and very surly masculine voice speaking directly from behind her. Instinctually, she set her drink down on the bar and covered her breasts and mons as best as she could, then turned around to face her nemesis.
Jack rolled his eyes. “A little late for modesty, ain’t it, professor?”
Elizabeth’s eyes widened. “He called you professor,” she murmured. “He knows…” She stopped abruptly. “Oh shit,” she muttered.
Kris took a deep breath. Her thoughts exactly.
“Come here,” Jack said in a would-broach-no-argument tone. “Now.”
Kris’ first instinct was to straighten her spine and tell him what he could do with his growled out commands like she always did, but she was too tired and too upset to argue with him. Besides, she wanted to find out what his intentions were. If he was going to get her fired, she needed some mental prep time.
“Fine,” she said weakly, her hands still covering her breasts and mons as best as they could. “Where?”
Jack grunted. Rather than answer her, he took her by the arm and gently guided her to the far end of the bar and away from curious eyes. When he was sure they were out of earshot from the others, he whirled her around to face him. She was still covering herself, her hands shielding her private parts from him.
He rolled his eyes again and tore her hands away from her body. With a warning growl he planted them firmly at her sides. “Do not,” he bit out, “shield yourself from me.” His nostrils flared as he got his first good look at her nude, oiled down body up close and personal. Well, the first good look he’d had at it once he’d been aware of the fact that it belonged to the Prickly Professor and not just any old prostitute. “Lord knows you haven’t bothered shielding yourself from anyone else.”
She sighed, too tired to care if he looked his fill at her or not. “Are you going to get me fired?” she asked bluntly, coming straight to the point. “Is that why you brought me over here? To gloat?” Her body stiffened. “Because if it is, save yourself the trouble. I already figured out the moment I saw you that I’d need to look for a new job as soon as I return to San Francisco.” She said the words boldly, but was pretty sure even a man as insensitive as Jack McKenna could hear the trembling in her voice.
His eyes softened a bit, surprising her. “Hell no I’m not gonna get you fired! Jesus, I’m not that bad, lady,” he said gruffly.
She stilled, not certain as to whether or not he could be believed. Then again Jack McKenna was an in-your-face kind of man. She doubted he was the type to give her hope about something so serious and then go back on his word. If he wanted to rat her out, he’d be gloating over it, not acting all surly over the fact that she had thought he’d do something like that to her to begin with.
That in and of itself confused her. Why did he care what she thought of him anyway?
They locked gazes, dark brooding eyes meeting worried cat-like green ones.
“Why are you here?” Jack murmured. He placed his large, callused hands on her shoulders and began to gently knead them. His dark eyes softened for a fraction of a second, then resumed their normal level of steel. “Do you need money, sweetheart?”
Perversely, the fact that after two years of grunting and growling at her Jack McKenna was trying in his surly way to be nice to her, made her feel like crying. Between that and the fact that she was tired and had experienced so many extreme emotions today made her eyes tear up for just a second. She cleared her throat, blinked them away, and answered him truthfully.
“No,” she admitted. She glanced away for a second and sighed, then looked back at him. “Listen, Mr. McKenna…”
“Jack,” he growled.
“Jack,” she conceded. She sighed again. “I really appreciate the fact that you’re trying to help, but I don’t need any money.” She took a deep breath. “I’m doing this for me,” she said quietly. “Not for money.”
That dark eyebrow shot up, though this time out of confusion and not to irritate her. “I don’t follow.”
She closed her eyes briefly, expelling a shaky breath as she did so. When she opened them again, she explained how she felt as best as she could given how tired and bone weary she felt. “I’m getting older, Jack. Not old, but older.” She shrugged her shoulders, which he was still kneading, and glanced away. “I wanted to do something wild and crazy just once in my life. For as long as I’ve lived and breathed I’ve followed the rules, as you know and like to belittle me for all the time, and…” She felt his body still at the truth as she glanced back to him. “…and for once I didn’t feel like following them anymore.”
“But why here?” he asked, still not quite getting it. “I can understand the wanting to do something wild and crazy part, but I don’t get why you wanted to—”
He stopped abruptly, his dark eyes widening in dawning comprehension, then narrowing in arousal.
He stared at her, his cock as hard as a rock, his heavy-lidded eyes studying her lips. “You like the submissive part, don’t you, baby?” he asked huskily.
Kris wet her lips and looked away. When he called her pet names like that it did things to her it shouldn’t. Like harden her nipples and make her clit pulse. “Maybe,” she squeaked. She cleared her throat. “Maybe.”
“Maybe my ass,” he murmured. His hands fell from her shoulders, trailed down her back, and possessively palmed her buttocks as he drew her in closer. She drew in a surprised breath, but didn’t try to push him away.
Goddamn, Jack thought, he was horny as hell.
All these years he’d been trying to find a woman who was submissive in general, catering to his every whim, but had grown quickly bored by each and every one of them. As it turned out, what he’d really wanted all along was a free-thinking woman like Dr. Kris Torrence. An independent, infuriating woman who would give as good as she got out of the bedroom, but who would also worship him and his cock inside of the bedroom, or wherever he wanted.
He hadn’t realized this facet of his personality until a few seconds ago. Until the woman he’d had more masturbation sessions fantasizing about than he could count had more or less admitted she craved to be sexually dominated. And he had his submissive little witch right here in his arms…
“I want you, Krissy,” he said thickly, his large hands kneading her buttocks as he pressed his erection against her bare belly. He wanted to get as naked as she was. “I’ve wanted you for a long, long time.”
Her eyes flew up to meet his. “And I’ve wanted y—” She stopped her confession abruptly, then looked away. Her heartbeat sped up, thumping madly. “Jack,” she breathed out. “We can’t do this. It’s best if you leave me alone. I see you at work all the time even if we rarely speak,” she said in a rush of emotion and tripped over words. “How can I pretend like nothing ever happened when I see you? I’m not so cold as that—”
“I don’t want you to be cold,” he interrupted, his voice thick with arousal. He ground his erection, concealed through the fabric of his black Italian trousers, against her belly again. “The last thing I want from you, sweetheart, is cold.”
Kris was about to open her mouth and argue, but was given no time. Jack’s mouth came down on top of hers, firmly, possessively, broaching no argument as he thrust his tongue between her lips.
She whimpered a bit—in defeat, or in admission of her attraction to him she couldn’t say. But she didn’t even bother to try and fight him. Lord knows she’d secretly wondered a million times what his kisses felt and tasted like and now she knew the answer. Paradise.