The Tango

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales are entirely co-incidental.

Text copyright © 2014 Angelica Chase

All rights reserved.

No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or otherwise without written permission of the above author. The only exception is by a reviewer, who may quote short experts in a review.

Published by Angelica Chase, Independent Author

Cover Design by Juliana Cabrera,
Jersey Girl Graphics

Editing by Edee M. Fallon,
Mad Spark Editing

Interior Design and Formatting by Juliana Cabrera,
Jersey Girl Graphics

For my K Bear, thanks for the corruption.

My elation from his sudden invitation was short lived by the three-letter word that followed it.

RED.

I knew he was angry. I knew I was about to pay for my lie. I knew I had hurt him and I had no idea what I was about to walk into. What I was sure of was that he wouldn’t physically hurt me.

RED.

I had so many things I wanted to say, an apology to make first and foremost. I also wanted to ask him why the club was closed. Surely, I had nothing to do with it. No, he might have been a little hurt by my actions, but something told me this was much bigger than me. And who the hell was I to think it could have anything to do with me? We’d had one day to explore our relationship further. Even then it was filled with light conversation and nothing heavy, well, except for the sex. I still didn’t know much about him, but in the time that I had known him, I
knew
he was a man I could fall for. And I had ruined it.

I’d been too slow in leaving my worthless husband, who was now completely out of my life, divorce pending. I had filed the day after I kicked him out. All I had to do was tell Rhys the truth. I just didn’t want to lose him. I beat myself mentally until I arrived at The Barracks. Putting my car in park, I surveyed the building, instantly on edge.

What a shit hole.

If the meeting place was any indication of the feelings he now harbored for me, I was in deep shit.

RED.

The beat down shack, known as The Barracks, was located on the outskirts of Savannah. It looked to be in shambles, resembling a hideout for crack heads, on the verge of being condemned.

I can’t go in there!

I took deep breaths, on the brink of a panic attack. What the hell was Rhys doing here? This was not his style. I was tempted to text him and call it off. Walking quickly from my car, I scanned the lot to make sure I got in safely.

Stepping into the dark bar, I saw him immediately. He was standing at the far end, and as soon as the door closed behind me, his eyes were on mine. They were as cold as ice. Sweat covered me instantly and I could feel heads turning my direction, but couldn’t tear my eyes away from Rhys. There was an electrical shift in the air then, a crackle, and it didn’t have the kind of pull that had me gravitating toward him. This was the kind that made my steps careful. I was just a few feet away from him when he turned and walked around the corner then down a flight of stairs. Swallowing the lump in my throat, I followed quietly. At the foot of the stairs, he continued walking down a dark hall with a set of rooms to the right and left. I stood behind him, silent, as he reached into his pocket. When he turned the key and walked through the door, I hesitated. He inspected the room as I quickly surveyed it. There was a large iron chandelier with cheap yellow bulbs hanging from the ceiling. Large black silk ribbons were draped from the center of it. I hadn’t noticed before that Rhys had been carrying a small black bag, which he dropped to the floor with a thud, making me jump, his back to me. He was waiting.

It was then that I understood exactly what RED meant. My Rhys was gone, and I was about to meet the version of the man that took his place.

I took a tentative step into the room and closed the door.

“Rhys, I just wanted to say I—”

He turned suddenly, taking long strides towards me, and griped my neck with one hand, nailing me to the door. I gasped in surprise; his grip was tight.

“Don’t ever call me by my name again. You will address me as sir, and I don’t want to hear a fucking word come out of your mouth. Sir or stop, that’s all you get, Mrs. Harvell.”

OH FUCK. OH FUCK. OH FUCK.

My limbs were shaking at the power in his voice and the weight of his words. His grip was tight, but he wasn’t cutting off circulation. He didn’t want to hurt me, and I knew that. I trusted him, though the look in his eyes was deadly. He loosened his tie, still holding my neck, keeping me pinned to the door.

He watched my chest rise and fall with interest. Using his spare hand, he pulled my sweater up and pulled down my tank top along with my bra underneath so that my breasts were supported by the material, leaving them exposed and clustered. Trailing his hand down my stomach, he unbuttoned my jeans and shoved it inside my pants as his grip tightened on my throat. I heard the sound of my arousal as he plunged his fingers inside. I was dripping. He stroked me roughly as he squeezed my neck. I screamed out when he drew two fingers up to my clit and pinched it. To my whine, he smirked. I had to keep cool; apparently, my pain fueled him. I wondered if my moans would do the same.

Rhys was one beautifully pissed off man.

“Tonight I will exhaust you, sate you and make you hungrier at the same time. You will think of nothing but my cock until you come, begging me to do it all over again.” He grabbed my chin roughly, forcing me to meet his eyes. “Eyes on mine at all times, Mrs. Harvell, or I will it make it more painful than it has to be.”

He soothed my now aching clit with my wetness as he stared at my nipples. Taking one with his mouth, he pulled and sucked hard as I writhed beneath him and arched my back, begging for more. He bit down on my nipple and I jumped in his hold as it grew tighter. I thrashed my head back and forth, caught somewhere between heaven and hell. And just as suddenly as he started, I found myself alone at the door, gasping and holding my neck.

He undressed slowly, his back to me.

“Take off your clothes,” he barked, making me jump out of my skin. I felt the pinch in my clit, the soreness in my neck, and more than anything else, the need in me. I stripped down quickly as I admired his beautiful broad shoulders and the curve of his perfect ass sitting on top of his thighs. I was dying to ogle the front of him, but he refused to turn around. He stood underneath the chandelier filled with hanging ribbons and gestured for me to come to him. As soon as I was within reach, he gripped my wrist, yanking me closer, and tied the ribbon into a smooth knot, pulling the other side down so it dangled my hand over my head. Once both hands were suspended, he moved to my legs, tying a longer piece of silk to each of them. I was hanging like a rag doll. He tested the hold by pulling on one of the ribbons and my arm stretched painfully.

“Perfect,” he said as he watched my reaction. I had no idea why his anger spiked my arousal, but it turned me on more than anything. I gave him a wicked grin and saw surprise in his eyes.

Bring it, baby
.

He shifted behind me, smoothing my skin with his hands. He ran his hand up and down my sex, then shoved his fingers into my mouth without warning. I sucked hard, taking my arousal off of him. I felt his cock bump me from behind as he circled me. Stopping in front of me with a sneer, he leaned in, his breath hot on my skin.

“I’m going to let you ride my cock tonight, but you won’t be in control. Nice and slow, Mrs. Harvell, or I’ll make it hurt.”

I stood on my toes, practically hanging from my arms, the burn becoming more intense by the second. I whimpered and was scolded by the slap of his hand hard on my ass. I kept my yelp to myself as his eyes challenged me. I wanted to drink him in, to admire his beautifully muscled chest and mouthwatering cock. Instead, I was forced to face his cold eyes and unforgiving expression.

As soon as the burn in my arms started becoming intolerable, he lifted me up quickly to straddle him, filling my pussy with his thick shaft. I swallowed air and clawed his back, holding myself to his chest as I adjusted to him. Hearing a rush of air escape him, I moaned and he pulled back, glaring at me. I wanted to move but knew better. My arms were now hanging limply above me, due to the slack of being held up, and although I felt a small amount of relief, they were becoming numb. The sensation of being filled by his thick dick and the numbing of my arms was overwhelming. The need to move became unbearable.

His lips were so close, only a whisper away. I needed to touch him so badly, to kiss his lips, to feel his tongue.

“Remember what I said,” he said as he twisted a nipple painfully, “and don’t test me.”

I began to move excruciatingly slow. Staring into his angry eyes was agony. It was the worst kind of torture, knowing what I could have, seeing it in front of me, and not being able to touch it. I felt the pull to move faster and tightened my legs around him as he kept his grip on my waist. I moaned and he loosened his grip so I was forced to cling to him to keep the burn out of my arms. I widened my eyes, suddenly afraid he would let me fall.

“Watch it,” he said, enjoying every minute of my discomfort as the burning between my thighs brewed.

I died a little with each slow movement of my hips as I pumped slowly, squeezing his thick length. He felt amazing, but I wanted more. Deciding to get constructive, I moved myself away from him, pulling myself up on the ribbons so I slid down his cock fully with each thrust. His mouth parted as I held my own weight, taking every inch of him. He fit me perfectly, and with each push of my hips, I saw his eyes blaze and his desire grow more intense. My arms were on fire, but it felt so damn good that soon I got lost and quickened the thrust of my hips.

His victory grin was not the one I’d grown to crave.

“Thank you.”

He let go of me immediately. My arms were brought painfully tight above my head and I was once again on my toes. I grinned back out of spite, surprising him again. He knew it hurt. He watched me twist and turn my body, trying to help ease the suffering, and then slapped my ass a few times for good measure. I struggled with my restraints as he pumped his cock, ogling me strung up before him. I could tell he liked what he saw. My body pulsated as my center screamed for relief at the sight of him stroking himself. I’d never been so damn uncomfortable and yet so turned on. My arms were useless now, almost comfortably numb. I whined as I saw his pace pick up and almost spoke up to protest his climax. Challenging eyes told me that was exactly what he wanted, so I remained silent. Licking my lips, I watched him rub my wetness all over his shaft. Filled with desire for him and longing to be the reason for his release, I whimpered as I saw the drop of arousal fall from his tip. He had brought himself to the edge and I was helpless to stop him. Despite his constant threats to keep my eyes on his, I bowed my head and closed my eyes in defeat. Seconds later, I looked to find he had dropped his hand, and when our eyes connected, a slow smiled spread across his face.