Wicked Lovers 05 Belong to Me by Shayla Black Read Free Book Online

virginity wasn’t exactly comfortable, but no way would she give him the slightest hint that burning stare of his unnerved her. And no way in hell was she staying in this BDSM palace with him for even two more seconds.
    God, it figures he’d wind up spending “a lot of time” in a place where men played mind games and used women for pleasure. Logan had excelled at that, even in high school. And she refused to let him use her again.
    Not sparing him a glance, she stormed toward the door.
    “Tara.”
    Her first instinct was to turn and look at him. Because his voice snapped with command and made her pussy ache for some mysterious reason? Because she’d deluded herself into thinking that she heard pain?
    Tara kept walking.
    She was so angry she could spit nails. It was irrational, she knew. Logan hadn’t done anything to her today but surprise her. Too much frustration piled onto too little sleep, mixed with too much fear that her friend and fellow agent, Darcy Miles, could die any minute she spent in this tie-’em-down-whip-’em-up dungeon learning her role.
    But her new boss, Jon Bocelli, had been perfectly clear when finally granting her this assignment. She’d been given this opportunity because she solved mysteries well, kept her cool, was hell with a gun, and fit the victims’ general background. Of course, he could find all that among existing agents. She’d also been told she was the perfect bait because she had the physical attributes these men seemed to want. She was voluptuous and had a soft look about her. It didn’t hurt that word had it they were looking for redheads. Beyond all that, though, what she possessed that others lacked, according to her psychological profile, was a submissive streak. Tara shuddered. Even the suggestion made her bristle. She hated being told what to do, but if the misconception worked in her favor, Bocelli could believe whatever he wanted. If she patently denied her “nature,” Bocelli would shuttle her behind a desk again, filtering intel.
    She’d volunteered for a field assignment to see if she was cut out to be an agent . . . and to see if following in Adam’s footsteps would make her stepfather proud. She’d only been given this assignment now because Bocelli didn’t have a better option. No one would work harder to rescue Darcy.
    And Tara knew that, unless she did something, Logan would be squarely in her way.
    If she wanted him gone, she’d have to talk to the club’s owner. Mr. Thorpe seemed like a calm, rational man. Then, hopefully, she’d never see her high school flame again.
    But Logan was faster than her and took hold of her elbow.
    He didn’t exert pressure; he didn’t need to. His touch alone sizzled through her like the shock of a live wire. To her horror, Tara felt her entire body heat up.
    “Stop.”
    His snapped command detonated through her system, his voice so hypnotic, so deep, it compelled her to obey. The need was almost more than she could resist. Her nipples peaked. An ache took up residence between her legs.
    She hesitated, though her entire body stayed tensed for flight.
    “Look at me,” he demanded.
    Damn it, she didn’t want to. But that tone alone nearly seduced her compliance. Refusing would only make her look ridiculously stubborn. Or scared. The last thing Tara wanted to do was give Logan a reason to think he mattered, to presume for an instant that she’d measured all lovers against him and found each lacking.
    Drawing in a bracing breath, she met his gaze.
    “Good,” he murmured. “Let’s sit and talk. You can tell me more about this mission, and we’ll talk about our best next steps.”
    No way was she going to risk Darcy’s safety any more by wasting time with Logan. Yes, Tara was a professional, but she’d have to be dead not to be distracted by the perceptive, gorgeous man staring at her now. Toss in their crappy history, and this had train wreck written all over it.
    “Or you could fuck off.” Tara jerked from