Surrender by Tawny Taylor Read Free Book Online Page B

he interrupted as he pulled up a chair. He set it directly in front of me, then eased into it. He sat, legs apart, leaning back, still studying me with an expression I didn’t know how to read. “I can see you’re willing to learn.”
    “Yes, sir.” Willing for now. Willing until I found a new job and could walk away from all of this. It scared me as much as it intrigued me. And the fact that I was so intrigued frightened me more.
    “And you’re only doing this to keep your job?”
    “And to keep you from going to the police,” I added, making sure he didn’t forget that part.
    He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Why are you willing to go to such measures to protect your brother?”
    The answer seemed obvious to me. “Wouldn’t anyone do the same?”
    He shook his head. “No. If I had a brother, which I don’t, I wouldn’t protect him.”
    “Really?”
    “Really. I wouldn’t.”
    “You wouldn’t protect your younger sibling?” I echoed, shocked and disappointed. Did this man care about anyone but himself?
    “Not if he’d broken the law. Not if he’d risked my job. No. I’d let the law take care of him.”
    I didn’t respond right away, fearful my initial reaction would make him angry.
    “What do you think about that, Abigail?” His tone was cool.
    I doubted he wanted to hear the truth. “I guess we see the situation very differently.” My tone wasn’t much warmer than his.
    “That’s all you’re going to say?”
    “It is.”
    “Hmmm.” He stood, circled me, doing a full 360 before making a second lap. This time he stopped behind my back again. A fingertip traced my arm, from shoulder to the silk binding my wrist. Little tingles pricked my skin where he’d touched me. “You confuse me, Abigail.”
    I confused him? “I’m sorry,” I apologized again. This time I wasn’t sure exactly what I was apologizing for. At his soft touch, the muscles of my arm tensed slightly. My fingers curled into fists. And a tiny shiver wriggled up my spine.
    “Are you different from the others?” he murmured. I didn’t think he was speaking to me, so I didn’t respond. I just held very still and let him do whatever it was he wanted, hoping it would be over soon and trusting what he’d said, that he wouldn’t force me to have sex with him.
    He continued around to my front again, pulled the chair closer, and sat, leaning forward. Our gazes met, and his lips parted slightly. His tongue slid out, swiping across his lower lip. I felt myself mirroring him.
    Something passed across his face, and his jaw tightened once again. He reached between my legs, fingering my folds. His intimate touch, after having taken a break, startled me. I felt a little invaded. But within seconds, the tissues his fingers were exploring warmed. My insides clenched as a gently pulsing heat beat deep within me.
    I closed my eyes, both in shame and in pleasure. The darkness swallowed me up, allowing me to just feel. His fingers grazed my skin, teasing me, tormenting me, never quite pushing hard enough or dipping deep enough. The longer the torture continued, the tighter my thighs became. I scooted my knees apart, surrendering to the demand of my burning tissues. They craved more. A lot more. I shoved the doubts and guilty thoughts out of my head and focused on the glorious sensations his touch was stirring.
    I was his. To touch. Anywhere. Any time he wanted. That was our agreement. In essence, I was his toy. His plaything. It was all him.
    His choice.
    His demands.
    Him.
    For some reason, those thoughts eased my guilt. As if not having control made me less culpable, less slutty.
    When he curled his hand and shoved two fingers inside me, I tumbled into a swirling world of heat and need. His strokes were slow, exactly what I needed. I felt my hips rocking back and forth, my greedy body working with his hand, my need building. My teeth sank into my lip. Within seconds, the burning between my legs was almost unbearable.