Bound by Love Read online

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  Cobblestone Press

  www.cobblestone-press.com

  Copyright ©2006 by Loribelle Hunt

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  NOTICE: This work is copyrighted. It is licensed only for use by the original purchaser. Making copies of this work or distributing it to any unauthorized person by any means, including without limit email, floppy disk, file transfer, paper print out, or any other method constitutes a violation of International copyright law and subjects the violator to severe fines or imprisonment.

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  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Bound by Love

  Copyright© 2006 Loribelle Hunt

  ISBN: 1-60088-003-7

  Cover Artist: Louisa Gallie

  Editor: Brandi Loyd

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.

  Cobblestone Press, LLC

  www.cobblestone-press.com

  Dedication

  To Arthur for all the years of support and encouragement, and Krissy for putting up with an often distracted and phone-call-screening best friend. Love you both!

  Chapter One

  "I'm here to see Rick,” she told the bouncer. “He's expecting me."

  A long line of hopefuls stretched out behind her, and she heard a grumble or two when she'd waltzed to the front. She could have told them you practically had to have an engraved invitation to get in. She did, in fact, but she tried not to dwell on it.

  "Name?” he asked, indolently leaning against the door, arms crossed over his chest. He was tall and more beefy than muscular. A blond, blue-eyed California boy by the looks of him. Not a bad specimen, but definitely not her type.

  "Nikki,” she answered.

  She hoped Rick filled in his door help, so she wouldn't have to use her last name or rank where so many people could overhear. The last thing she wanted or needed was for word to get out that she'd been to a sex club.

  He opened the door and spoke to someone on the inside before nodding her through. Two bouncers at one door? The owner took his security seriously. The second bouncer was a carbon copy of the first, and she blinked with surprise as she realized Rick had instructed her to dress just as his employees did; in boots, jeans, and a plain black t-shirt.

  She didn't get much of a chance to look around as she followed him up a narrow set of stairs near the front door and into a glass enclosed room that overlooked the club's ground floor. Her general impression of the downstairs was a large smoky room.

  Three men sat facing away from her, and she hung back as the bouncer leaned down and spoke quietly to one of them.

  When the man stood, she stepped around the bouncer. He was tall and lanky with short-cropped graying hair and reserved eyes. Approaching him, she held out her hand and said, “You must be Rick."

  "Yes,” he answered, pausing a moment before briefly clasping her fingers. “Nikki. This is a very unusual request."

  "I understand,” she answered. “But the guy I'm looking for is one of my best people, and I don't want to charge him with AWOL.” She shrugged. “Some of his platoon buddies told me I'd find him here."

  Rick nodded, the remote expression not leaving his face. She got the impression she had been judged before she even arrived, and found lacking.

  She arched an eyebrow. “I don't want to be here anymore than you want me here. With any luck I can find him quickly and get out of your hair."

  Curiosity overcame her better judgment, and she approached the glass wall, looking down into the club while Rick considered her words.

  "Don't want to partake of our hospitality, Nikki?” The amused drawl came from one of the other men seated behind her. She stiffened in recognition. Damn. Slowly, she turned her head to look over her shoulder.

  "Mack. Why am I not surprised to find you here?"

  "Fate at work?” he asked in a sexy voice that skittered up her spine.

  She laughed. “Oh no. This is so not my scene. You know that."

  He did know that, because they'd discussed it the first time he asked her out. She was in charge of a special military investigative task force, and he was in a similar position on another team. For the last six months they'd shared office space. The proximity was making her a little crazy, and her poor vibrator had been through the ringer. He infuriated her, he made her laugh, and he sure as hell turned her on, but she wasn't about to risk her career to test an attraction for something a little risqué. In her book, dominance and submission games definitely fell into that category. If anyone ever heard about it, she'd never be taken seriously again. Uh huh, no thanks.

  She had someone to find and then needed to get the hell away from the temptation that was Mack Chastain. She turned back to the glass. Maybe luck was with her tonight after all.

  "There he is,” she said, stepping toward the stairs.

  Mack scowled at her. “You don't need to go down there. Stay here. I'll get him."

  He was back in minutes, towing Whitman behind him. Whitman stood sheepishly before her, a studded collar around his neck, but otherwise unremarkably dressed. A quick once-over showed her he wasn't wearing his cell phone. She arched an eyebrow and crossed her arms.

  "We've been trying to get in touch with you for two days, Whitman."

  "I'm sorry, First Sergeant,” he said contritely. “I don't have my cell phone with me."

  She snorted. “You know better. Leave's been revoked. We have a mission next week, and everyone is to report in Monday at 0600.” She paused and gave him her most severe look. “Can you manage that, or do I need to send you in now? Because it'd be a real shame to be charged with going AWOL on Monday morning, don't you think?"

  He straightened to attention. “Of course, First Sergeant. I'll be there."

  She nodded. “You better be, Whitman. Dismissed."

  When he cleared the stairs she turned and smiled at Rick. “See? That was quick and painless. I'll just be getting out of your hair now."

  She made it to her car before she realized Mack was behind her. He plucked the keys out of her hand and had her in the passenger seat before she could blink. Bemused, she watched him slide behind the wheel and turn the switch. He casually rested his hands on it and stared out the window.

  "Did you want something?” she asked.

  He gave her a piercing look she felt clear to her soul. “Other than you, you mean?"

  She sucked in a breath. She knew he just said things like that to egg her on, but it hurt—this offer of the impossible.

  She shook her head. “Why do we keep having this conversation?"

  He shrugged and smiled slightly. “Because you keep pushing me away?"

  She rolled her eyes.

  "Then you turn around and flirt with me,” he added, raising his eyebrows.

  Outrageous! “I do not! I talk to you. Friends talk. We are friends, aren't we, Mack?"

  He was silent a long moment, and she reached for his hand. Couldn't she at least have that much?

  "Mack?"

  "I don't think I can be just friends with you anymore, Nikki."

  Close to tears at that bald statement, she nodded toward the door of the club.

  "Well, we're at an impasse then, because I can't do that.” She choked over the words, but forced them out. “And we're both adults. We both know how important a satisfying sex life is in a relationship."

  "How do you know you can't? You've never tried it."

&nb
sp; Oh, she was tempted.

  "You're tempted,” he said with a sexy grin, as if he knew her thoughts.

  She laughed. “For the sex, sure. But I have no interest in being dominated, in having no control."

  Liar, liar, pants on fire.

  "That's not what it's about, Nikki,” he said. “It's about you trusting me enough to let go of control. We can stop anytime you want to. I'd never push you farther than you're willing to go."

  She stared out at the night, thinking about it. If she closed her eyes she could see them together. She had the sneaking suspicion it would be ten times better than her fantasies. And she had plenty of them involving giving Mack total control. A shiver ran up her spine.

  "Say yes,” he whispered, bringing her knuckles to his mouth and nibbling lightly. Tendrils of heat curled through her, and she stopped fighting it. She'd decided when she walked into that club tonight and saw him there.

  Without turning to look at him, she slowly nodded her head. “Okay."

  Chapter Two

  He drove, wordlessly accepting her reticence, her confusion and anxiety in stride. She had no idea what he had planned and serious misconceptions about what he expected. That was his fault and he owned up to it. When he met her he thought, submissive. But he didn't realize at the time it was an instinct she buried to survive in their world. He intended to educate her. And keep her.

  After the first few times she turned him down, he changed tactics. She knew him better than anyone. And he now knew her better than she knew herself. It had been a long six months, but he sensed he was wearing her down. She had no idea how determined he really was. And he was out of patience with this just-friends game.

  Rick's call to verify her identity was just the impetus he needed. He dropped his other plans and arranged to ambush her on his own turf. She fell right into his lap and, seeing a weak spot in her usual calm demeanor, he finally managed to get her where he wanted her. Almost.

  The silent drive—him anticipating, her nervous—was like an aphrodisiac. It pushed all his buttons. The thought that he would be the one to initiate her, and he fully intended on keeping her after that, was making him crazy. His control was clearly being tested.

  Finally he turned on his street. He watched her taking it in from the corner of his eye. It was an average tree-lined road, full of average Middle American houses. His was on a cul-de-sac, and he pulled into the drive trying to see it as she might. An L-shaped ranch, the garage in the front and the door tucked back in an alcove. He grinned. It no doubt did not fit her image of a sex-crazed dominant.

  He parked and ushered her inside, straight down the hall to the bedroom. No point in delaying was there? God forbid she change her mind. He firmly shut the door behind him and stalked her across the room until the backs of her legs hit the edge of the bed. Without touching her he leaned in and lightly bit at the pulse pounding in her neck.

  Though he was dominant by nature, he didn't actively participate in the lifestyle. A passing conversation on that subject months ago had obviously left her confused on his preferences. Quickly formulating a plan, he went with his favorite fantasy of her.

  "Why don't you take off the boots?” he asked, though it was clear to them both the request was more along the lines of an order. With a hand on her shoulder he gently pushed her into a sitting position, and then he walked to the dresser and rummaged in its top drawer. He looked over to see her eyeing the door and crossed his arms.

  "Thinking of escaping?"

  She studied it a minute and he watched her elegant throat gulp. Finally she shook her head no and bent to the boots. Returning to the drawer he pulled out two silk neckties and, after a moment's hesitation, a blindfold.

  In the mirror he saw her set her boots aside, stand, and hesitatingly reach for the snap on her jeans.

  "Did I say to remove anything else?” he asked casually. Her hand immediately dropped, and she met his gaze in the mirror.

  "No,” she answered, lifting her head.

  He almost smiled at the look he recognized in her eyes. He'd seen it often enough. She'd decided to endure, to just get through whatever was coming. As far as he was concerned that was not in the spirit of the bargain.

  Approaching her quietly, he turned her around and pulled the elastic out of her hair. The auburn tresses fell halfway down her back, and he lifted a handful and breathed the vanilla scent deep. After a moment, he tied the blindfold around her eyes. She gasped.

  "Okay? Not too tight? No light getting through?"

  She shook her head no, and he lightly swatted her on the butt. She jumped, but didn't say a word.

  "Always answer me verbally if you're able,” he whispered close to ear, leaning in behind her. “Next time you'll have to be punished."

  She started to nod again and quickly said, “Ok. Yes. I understand."

  "Sir."

  "Excuse me?” she asked incredulously and he smiled.

  "Sir. Or Master,” he said as an afterthought, pulling the T-shirt over her head and admiring the smooth skin of her back.

  She held her breath when he lightly ran his fingers up her spine and hovered over the hook of her bra strap. Red lace. If he hadn't seen it for himself, he would never have believed the always practical Nikki wore red lace undergarments. He popped the catch and slid his hands around her, under the material. She responded beautifully, goose bumps rising under his touch. He barely bit back his groan of delight when her nipples hardened beneath his hands. When he plucked them, she shivered and thrust them forward.

  "Don't move,” he said softly, waiting for her response.

  "Okay,” she said in a breathy voice, belatedly adding, “Sir."

  "Poor Nikki. The rule's so hard to follow, hmm?” he asked lightly. “Shall I bend you over my knee? Spank that luscious ass of yours? I think I will anyway for tempting me so long."

  A charming flush spread up her neck. “No, sir,” she whispered. It sounded like a half-hearted protest to his ears.

  "Hmm,” he answered, hands gliding down to the button on her jeans. He opened it and slowly dragged down the zipper. The jeans were a relaxed fit and easily slid down her legs. Again he was surprised to find a red lace thong. She was full of surprises, his Nikki. He grinned. He definitely needed some excitement in his life. He left the thong on.

  He sat on the bed and took her hands in his, placing a kiss on each palm. Trying to inject a note of sadness in his voice, he tugged her over.

  "Punishment first, don't you think?” he asked, laying her over his lap. He lightly ran a hand up the back of a thigh, noticing the tremor that went through her and imagining his mark on her with satisfaction.

  Playfully at first he dropped a hand on her butt, enough to get her attention but not enough to sting. Enough to lull her into stillness. When she relaxed, he delivered the first sharp swat. She winced, but kept quiet. He grinned, considering how much she would take or how far she'd be willing to let him go. Normally doling out punishment wasn't alluring, but she'd put him off for so long he was looking forward to it.

  He was not a stickler for rules. He couldn't care less if she called him sir or master and preferred to hear her screaming Mack when she came. When she didn't automatically answer in the traditional submissive way, however, it occurred to him as a pathway to the punishment she did deserve for keeping him at arms length for so long.

  He dealt a series of sharp slaps that had her gasping. Giving her a brief respite, he ran his hand over the stinging area, down her thighs and back up to the juncture in between. He paused a moment before nudging them apart and sliding his hand between her legs. He found her pussy warm and wet and realized with gratification that she didn't find this the turn off she claimed. She groaned and moved against his hand.

  He grinned, raising an eyebrow she couldn't see. Letting her move rhythmically on his fingers, he dropped the hardest slap yet on her ass. Followed by another and another, leaving a satisfying trail of handprints in their path. He continued with the spanking until s
he was keening and clenching around him with her first orgasm. He left her to shudder around his hand, lightly running the other over her to sooth the burn he'd brought.

  When she calmed, he picked her up and laid her in the center of his bed. She moved to curl onto her side, but he stopped her. Moving up her body, still fully clothed, he pressed close enough for there to be no doubt about his erection. He caught her hands and lifted them above her head.

  "Oh, I'm nowhere near done with you tonight, sweetheart,” he whispered in her ear.

  He sat, straddling her hips, and tied her hands together with one of the silk ties. With the other he secured her to the headboard. She lay almost naked and replete under his avid gaze, and he nearly growled with a sense of possession.

  Mine. All mine.

  He'd waited a lifetime for this woman. Now to convince her they were perfect for each other. He wanted an equal partner in his life, a strong independent woman. Everywhere except this room. If she could trust him enough to give him that, he'd make her deliriously happy. He was as certain of that as he was the sun would rise in the morning.

  "Comfortable?” he asked when she tested the bonds. “Not too tight?"

  "Yes, sir,” she said quietly.

  "Mack.” He laughed huskily, leaning to capture her lips. “Always call me Mack,” he whispered. “I just wanted an excuse to spank you, for keeping us apart so long. And you enjoyed it, didn't you?"

  "Yes,” she said, her voice cracking.

  "Surprised?"

  She snorted, some of her equilibrium returning. “Yes."

  "Hmm ... there's more to come,” he said.

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  She shivered with uncertainty. How much more could she take? She could ask him to untie her, and she knew that he would let her go. But did she really want that? Her darkest fantasies couldn't have conjured that spanking. Well, it could, but not the pleasure from it. And now she was tied. Would he cover all her secret fantasies in one night?

  The blindfold was a nice touch. She'd started out an intelligence officer and knew all about sensory deprivation, although it never would have occurred to her to use it quite this way. Without the use of her sight, everything was more intense. Her skin seemed more sensitive, and she strained to hear every rustle of movement. The soft oldies station on the radio flowed over her, and his scent permeated the air.