Crave Me Page 10

  “Good morning,” I said. “How are you?”

  Simon’s chuckle was deep and warm in my ear. “I believe that was the question I had for you.”

  I shifted in my chair, aching beautifully from the reminder of his hand on me. “Sore,” I admitted. “Every time I move on my chair or walk today I think of you.”

  “In a good way or bad way?” Concern thickened his voice.

  “The best way.”

  “Good. I want a photo.”

  “What?”

  “You heard me, Chloe. I want you to lift whatever sexy skirt I imagine you’re wearing today, pull down your panties, and send me a photo of your ass. I want to see my marks on you.”

  “Oh God,” I whispered, my throat going dry. “Are you at home?”

  “No, I’m in my office in the locker room waiting for a practice to start, and I’m not getting a damn thing done because I keep thinking of you and your ass and the way you scream when you come.” He grunted.

  My mind ran away from me. “Are you—are you hard right now?”

  “Yes,” he growled. “Hard as a rock and if you can’t obey, I’ll have to figure out how to punish you, which will only make me harder. I’ve got practice in ten minutes and can’t have a hard-on when I hit the ice, so I’m asking you to obey, Chloe.”

  I pushed out of my chair before I could think about it. I turned over my desk, flipping my blonde hair so it fell down my back and lifted my skirt. Then, in order to tease him, I pushed my lace thong panties down just beneath my ass. They tightened around the curve of it, plumping my small cheeks, but he’d like the hint of red lace.

  “Hold on,” I whispered. My hand shook as I held my phone behind me, twisting in order to get a shot of myself splayed out over my desk, my hair visible, my ass on display for him.

  I took the photo, smiled when it wasn’t too blurry, and texted it to him.

  “Holy shit,” he whispered. I’d just readjusted myself and taken a seat in my chair when he groaned. “That’s the sexiest thing I’ve seen all day. Better than the vision I had in my head.”

  My pulse fluttered with approval. My hand went beneath my skirt, teasing my wet flesh.

  “Simon,” I whispered, tracing the seam of my thong with my fingers. “I’m wet.”

  His voice went sharp as a sword. “No one touches you but me, do you understand?”

  My fingers stilled. “But?”

  “No buts. You’ll come when I tell you, that’s what we agreed to.”

  “And if I don’t obey?” I took my hand out of my skirt, but damn I wanted to hear his threat.

  “Every orgasm you give yourself is one I will deny you, while I orgasm repeatedly, and you’re forced to the edge, denied, watching me take my own pleasure from you. Is this a risk you want to take?”

  I imagined him jacking off in front of me, his cum splashing over my lips, my breasts, my pussy, all while I writhed beneath him.

  The vision turned me on and left me squirming in my chair. But it was the sound of disappointment in his voice I clung to.

  “No, it’s not a risk I want to take.”

  “Good.” I could practically see his grin from his tone. “Then take care. I’ll be in touch soon.”

  He hung up before I could respond. I stared at the screen for several moments, hoping for a text and directions, but nothing came.

  Fool. He’d turned me into a fool for him in less than twenty-four hours.

  How in the hell was I going to survive three more weeks?

  Chapter Twelve

  Simon

  As members of the hockey team entered the locker room, my dick was still hard. I shouldn’t have called her, even though I’d promised her I would. I should have been smart enough to wait until the end of the day, or when I had to time to stroke my dick, getting myself off to the memory of how incredibly sexy she was. Her teasing behavior on the phone only fueled my growing fascination with her.

  I wanted to fuck her again, and I didn’t want to wait.

  When she left the hotel last night, I’d had to fight the urge to throw her back into the bed and not let her leave until morning. That would have been too dangerous. When I’d waited for her in the hotel bar, hidden so I could get a glimpse of her as she entered the hotel, I’d arrested at the sight of her. Shoulders back, golden hair swaying as she moved confidently through the lobby, I had already known Chloe was going to change everything for me.

  After the tastes of her I’d had, I was in too deep.

  She was already more than just a sub to train. We had history, one I actually enjoyed. When Cassie had ended it with me, despite my anger and frustration at her threats and the way she so quickly turned on me, it had actually been Chloe I thought of more often afterward. How I’d never see her spar with her father, or the way her laugh filled the room when she helped her mom cook holiday meals I was invited to. Something about Chloe drew people in and held them tight and while I didn’t see her frequently over the years when I was with Cassie, a friendship of sorts had grown between us.

  Now, all of our past was twisted together with the taste of her pussy and the hint of cinnamon on her lips.

  I came this morning in the shower, my hand wrapped around my dick lamenting that it wasn’t her pussy, wicked plans already forming in my head for our next encounter way too many days away.

  And if she disobeyed, came before I told her she could, I would make good on every threat I gave her. The idea of my ejaculate splashing across her perky tits made my balls grow tight.

  The locker room door slammed and shouts from the teenagers rang in my ears. Shoving paperwork aside, I grabbed my skates.

  Half the kids were already getting dressed. Some of them had their phones in their hands, tapping out messages with their thumbs faster than some of them could pass a hockey puck.

  “Suit up,” I called. “Now. We’ve got a busy morning and if you’re late on the ice I’ll torture you with suicide drills today. Your chicks can wait, the ice can’t.”

  “Yes, coach,” a few boys responded. The others groaned and put their phones into their lockers.

  I had just gotten my skates on and jumped over the wall onto the ice to begin warming up when the first few members of the team filtered out of the locker room.

  “On the ice!” I yelled. “Start your laps.”

  The boys moved quickly, the captain and co-captain always the first ones to listen, ready to play, and even more ready to fight. Charlie Boyd and Garrison Gibas would most likely end up playing Division One Hockey and I needed to get my head in the game, so to speak, to be able to coach them to their full potential.

  I spent two more hours putting my team through their drills and practice, working them so hard I barely had time to think about Chloe.

  I showered after practice was done and the locker room had emptied of all the players. I’d worked the boys hard, but we had a State Championship to work for and there wasn’t a single moment to waste. I was just throwing my duffel bag over my shoulder when Bennett Ashby walked into my office.

  “Hey, want to go get something to eat?”

  He was a friend of mine I met at Luminous two years ago. We bonded over our love of hockey. When he wasn’t running his real estate development company, he came out and watched our hockey practices. Like me, he was also searching for a long-term sub who he hoped would someday become his wife. He was also as picky with play partners as I was.

  He’d probably make the perfect Dom for Chloe when I was through with her.

  A low growl escaped my throat and Bennett eyed me warily. “Bad day?”

  Shit. “No. Yes, shitty week. You mentioned food?”

  “Sounds like you need some beers, too.”

  Hell yeah, I did. I walked toward him and he stepped out of my office. After I tu
rned and locked my door, I asked, “Boondox sound good? They’ll have the game on.”

  He slapped my shoulder, and I jolted forward. He might have been my height, but he was also broader. Black hair to my brown, dark brown eyes to my blue, he was my opposite. And he probably had the ability to fuck Chloe into oblivion.

  “Asshole,” I glared at him, not just for the shove but for images now flashing in my head of Bennett and Chloe together. I crossed him off my list of potential Doms for Chloe. When our time was up and I had to hand her over to someone else, I didn’t want to have to see her with a new Dom. “I’ve got twenty on the Red Wings, tonight.”

  He huffed. “I’ll take your twenty. Blackhawks are number one in their division, right now.”

  “It’s November, Bennett. Lots of season left to play.”

  He shoved open the heavy metal locker room door, banging it against the concrete wall. “That’s what losers say.”

  * * *

  “So tell me about her.” Bennett took a pull from his beer.

  Around us, the bar was only half full, which was pretty typical for a Saturday afternoon. Most of the customers were dressed in either Detroit Red Wings or Chicago Blackhawks clothing. They roared their approval and disapproval.

  While Bennett and I were usually in the fray and excitement, today we were sitting far away from the bar, at a table where we could see the televisions, but be able to talk without shouting.

  “What girl?” I asked, shoving my cheeseburger into my mouth. We’d arrived, ordered drinks, then food, and talked about the team and the first game coming up right before Thanksgiving.

  “Known you for years, Simon. This last week you haven’t been yourself. Either your dog died, or you’re all twisted up over a chick. And since you don’t have a dog...” He tilted his beer bottle in my direction, waved it in a circle and waited.

  Fucker. Sometimes it sucked to have friends. They always needed shit from you and wanted you to talk when you wanted to ignore them.

  “Chloe.” I practically growled her name. “Her name’s Chloe and she’s a new sub I’m training.”

  His interest piqued. “You? Training a sub?”

  I set my beer down, folded my arms on the tabletop and leaned forward, lowering my voice. I didn’t need anyone from town overhearing how the local hockey coach liked to get his dick wet. “I know her. She’s actually Cassie’s little sister—”

  “Fuck, Simon. The hell?”

  I shook my head. “She’s not like that. I swear it, Bennett. She’s younger, but she came to me.”

  “When?”

  Six month ago, when I first brushed my lips over hers, when she hid herself from me in the bird-like masquerade mask. I’d jerked off to the thought of her, the image of her hidden behind sparkling crystals and black feathers. Fuck. I was gone for her months ago.

  “Had our first session last night.”

  “That’s not when she came to you. Come on, Simon. You know what you’re doing?”

  I was beginning to think I didn’t have a damn clue.

  “She’s not Cassie.” No way would Chloe pull the shit on me that Cassie did. “She’s younger, but she’s tougher. She searched me out, months ago, and I pushed her away. But last week when I was at Luminous, I ran into her, and she was hurt, badly. I told her I’d give her a month to train her so she didn’t get messed up with the wrong Dom and then I’d help her find a good one.”

  His shoulders relaxed as I quickly explained but when I mentioned her getting hurt at Luminous, his brown eyes sparked with fury. “She was the girl who was caned?”

  Anger suffused his features. Hell, he was ready to launch over the table and pummel the asshole who’d hurt her and the guy was nowhere near. This was why Bennett and I were friends. We had the same values on just about everything.

  “Yeah.” I ignored the lingering anger bubbling in my veins at the idea of the two of them being together. At Chloe dropping to her knees to take Bennett’s dick in her mouth. How he’d treat her like a damn queen even while he consumed every inch of her body. “That was her.”

  He settled back in the chair and smirked at me. “Mind telling me why you look as though you want to rip my head off right now?”

  I drained my beer and turned, searching for the server. “No.”

  “What does she mean to you?”

  “Nothing.” The lie burned on my tongue. Where was the damn waitress?

  Bennett threw his head back and laughed. “Right, and I’m as virginal as the Pope. Don’t lie to me, Simon. You suck at it. Who is she?”

  “Right now, she’s a sub I’m training.” Two beers were placed onto the table and I thanked the waitress before taking a deep pull. “Potentially? Everything.”

  His eyes widened so large they risked popping straight out and onto the table. Grinning, he shook his head. “You are so fucked. When do you see her again?”

  “Tomorrow.” I made the decision as the word came out of my mouth. I’d planned to see her once a week, maybe twice. No way was I waiting so long to see her again. “I’ll see her tomorrow.”

  I chugged my second beer while Bennett laughed like the asshole he was.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chloe

  Sunday, CC’s was closed. I filled it with running errands, doing laundry and cleaning my apartment. Not that it ever got too dirty with only one person living in it.

  I was meticulous to a fault, but I hadn’t always been. At some point during college, when I realized all I wanted to do was work for myself, I’d become uber-organized and goal-oriented. I threw myself into ensuring every decision I made would be successful. It was rare I had a single moment to relax.

  Friday night, Simon had seen all of that inside of me, within only moments. He’d been right, too. Letting go, dropping my walls and my need to be in control, and just obeying had been almost as electrifying as the orgasms he gave me. I’d spent the entire weekend remembering our night, barely able to concentrate at work after his brief phone call the next morning. And while I desperately desired to take care of myself, to relieve the constant ache I’d had since I spoke to him, I also wanted to please him. But thinking of Simon and all the wicked things he’d threatened to do to me had also exhausted me.

  I rarely took a day to veg out. And even though there were dozens of unmarked items on my disregarded daily to-do list, I was still dressed in flannel plaid pants and a matching button up top I’d thrown on after I woke up. I barely moved from the couch all day. I’d barely eaten, only snacking on chips and salsa while occasionally having a glass of wine, and I felt no guilt for it.

  I was in the kitchen, refilling a glass of wine, when three quick raps of a knock hit my door.

  I jumped, wine sloshing over the rim of my glass, and I grabbed a towel to wipe my hands. I hurried to the front door, frowning. Unannounced visitors were rare. Peering out the peephole, I gripped the towel tightly in my hand. Simon’s face was slightly blurred and misshapen due to the peephole. What the hell was he doing here?

  He lifted his hand to knock again, his face looking directly into the hole where I was looking out and I unlocked the door before his fist hit it.

  I pulled it open, standing in the way so I could only open it a few inches. “What are you doing here? Is everything okay?”

  My pulse thundered in my veins. We hadn’t spoken since Saturday. He’d made it clear we wouldn’t speak again until he wanted to see me naked.

  He scanned my body and smiled. “I was in the neighborhood, picked up some dinner and decided I didn’t want to eat alone. Care to join me?”

  He lifted two heavy paper bags at his sides. I caught the most delicious aroma of ginger and garlic and everything Asian.

  Damn. It was like he’d catalogued my every weakness.

  Still, I didn’t open the door f
or him. “I don’t understand. You said we wouldn’t talk.”

  “I said I would still follow up with aftercare, and tonight, I decided you needed dinner from Huang-Mon’s.

  One of my favorite places. How did he know all this about me?

  “Let me in, Chloe. I just wanted to check on you, feed you, take care of you.”

  For the last week, he’d done an incredible job. He rescued me, pampered me, bathed me, fed me, and then fucked me until I barely knew my name. My heart couldn’t handle any more of his gentle care.

  Still, it was Huang-Mon’s.

  I stepped back and opened the door so he could walk through.

  “Nice jammies,” he whispered, leaning close to me as he entered. “They hide every one of your curves but you’re still sexy as hell in them.”

  I followed him, dumbfounded, as he headed to the kitchen and took control of the space like it was his own. He moved succinctly, with confidence, not wasting time on unnecessary moves. Instead of offering to help, I plunked down on a stool and drank from the wine glass I’d left on the island.

  “You were in the neighborhood?” I asked. He hummed a response, popping open cardboard containers. “Doing what?”

  His head lifted and he peered at me over the rim of his glasses. “Picking up dinner.”

  “Where do you live then?”

  He was a teacher for a high school in an eastern suburb of River Hills. Grand Rapids wasn’t large, but not small, either. I couldn’t imagine he lived downtown, anywhere near me enough to decide Huang-Mon’s, which was a local, non-chain, neighborhood restaurant, sounded like a good idea for dinner.

  He scooped out rice onto a plate and glanced at me, gesturing toward the plate with his spoon. “More, please,” I murmured at his silent question. He dished out more and then popped open three other containers, digging out two bags holding crab rangoon and egg rolls.

  “Help yourself,” he said, handing me my plate and sticking more spoons into the cardboard containers.

  I went straight for the scallop and shrimp pad thai.