This is a work of fiction. All characters, organizations and events in this novel are products of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Tied by Lust (Secrets #1)
Copyright 2012 by Onné Andrews
All rights reserved
Published by Angry Sheep Publishing
Houston, Texas
Smashwords Edition
Photography by Romance Novel Covers
Cover Design by Onné Andrews
Tied By Lust
(Secrets #1)
Onné Andrews
Chapter One
Alicia Thomas’s thumb rubbed the base of the fourth finger on her left hand. “All he ever wanted with me was vanilla sex. Anytime I suggested anything remotely adventurous he’d get this look.” She screwed her face into Hank’s pompous expression. “He’d say, ‘Just where did you learn about things like that.’ But then I catch him.”
Her three friends stared at her with rapt expressions. Even the two little old ladies at the table next theirs had stopped their conversation, eavesdropping on her story.
“In his office, a ball gag in his mouth while this professional paddles his lily white ass.”
Diana’s mouthful of iced tea sprayed across the table. Micki laughed, loud and hard. Poor Beth blushed a brilliant red. And the elderly ladies’ jaws dropped.
On one hand, her tale wasn’t exactly appropriate talk for the little upscale sidewalk bistro. Alicia leaned back in her chair and took a sip of her soda. On the other hand, it felt good to get the real reason for the divorce off her chest. The four of them managed to keep their friendship going since high school despite life taking each of them in radically different directions. She gazed down Connecticut Avenue. In the distance, the Washington Monument spiked into the clear spring sky, mocking her for her failed marriage.
“Y-you would have done—” Beth cleared her throat. “Would you have spanked him if he asked you?”
“I don’t know.” Alicia stared at the faint line on her finger that still existed even though she’d taken off the damn ring the same day she’d caught Hank. “I’ve been asking myself that for the last five months.”
Micki tossed her napkin on her plate. “Maybe that’s what we all need. Something different.” She found a sudden interest in the pigeons battling for crumbs along the sidewalk. Today was the first time Alicia had heard Micki laugh since her partner had died in a police raid gone wrong last year. And she hadn’t dated in forever.
“Torrid fucks with some hot boy toys are what we all need,” Diana grumbled. “Screw this relationship shit.”
Alicia closed her eyes. At least she knew the reason for her split. Diana still didn’t know what went wrong in hers. Her fiancé had packed up and walked out while she’d been at work. He’d left a note saying he simply didn’t love her.
And then there was poor Beth.
The impulse seized Alicia. An idea so crazy it might actually work. She leaned forward. “You’re right. Let’s make a pact. Before our lunch next month, we each find a stud, use him for some type of raunchy sex we’ve never done before, then report what we learned.” She raised her soda. “Who’s with me?”
“Oh, hell, yes!” Micki held up her glass as well.
The expression on Diana’s face was dubious at best. “This isn’t one of your marketing ideas. You can’t just brainstorm a relationship into existence.”
Alicia glared at her. “You just said we needed boytoys, not boyfriends.”
“All right, all right.” Diana hoisted her ice tea to meet the other two glasses. “A freaky guy and some freaky sex before next month.”
In unison, they looked at Beth.
Pink still flushed her face. “W-we shouldn’t treat men as objects.”
“C’mon. They do it to us all the time,” Alicia scoffed. “Or at least they’d treat you like an object if you’d ditch the glasses, the ponytail and the men’s clothes.”
Beth sucked in her cheeks, then straightened in her chair. “Okay, let’s do it.”
Four glasses clinked, sealing the deal. Alicia drank a huge mouthful of soda. Now, how the hell am I going to pull off finding such a man?
* * *
Alicia swore under her breath as another crack of thunder rumbled. The Metro station was a block and a half away and she’d be soaked before she took two steps down the street. And the last thing she wanted to do was to spend a Friday night in D.C.. She’d rather be home…
No, that wasn’t true. Her little colonial in the Maryland suburbs had been cold, empty, since she threw Hank out on his well-paddled ass the day before Thanksgiving. Hell, she didn’t even have a dog or cat to go home and feed. Hank had always nixed the idea, saying they were both too busy with their careers to care for pets.
Maybe she should spend the night here. The whole reason the company’s annual meeting had been held at the hotel was for the convenience of some of their prominent shareholders. But her auburn-haired reflection gave her a disapproving glare. Not to mention, her next-door-neighbor Mrs. Abercrombie would come over first thing in the morning to check on her. The old lady seemed to have made Alicia her personal project since Hank had been sent packing.
As she debated whether to take a taxi home or wait for the rain to stop, a limo pulled up under the awning of the hotel. How nice would it be for someone else to do the driving?
“Ms. Thomas?” Sheik Abdul’s deep voice drew her attention from the waiting vehicle.
“Yes,” She turned and smiled. “Your Highness, is there something I can help you with?”
“The offer to join us for the evening is still open.” He gestured toward the limo. The sheik’s face was inscrutable, but behind him, his brother’s held a slightly hopeful look.
One of the executive assistants must have let the little fact of her divorce slip. And Sheik Abdul had made no secret that if she were ever free, he and his brother were interested.
Piercing, dark eyes examined her. The Savile Row suits didn’t hide either man’s trim physique. The sheik’s shoulders were a hair wider, his brother a hair taller. Otherwise, they could pass as twins despite the five-year age difference and the different mothers.
The temptation to say yes lay on the tip of her tongue. A weekend ménage with two foreign dignitaries would definitely qualify for the lunchtime boy toy pact. But the pact wasn’t worth losing her CFO position by having a fling with the company’s two biggest shareholders. Losing her marriage was all she could handle right now.
And having a one-night stand with a married man would make her a hypocrite. A hypocrite four times over considering the sheik’s four wives.
Alicia inclined her head. “Your offer is incredibly gracious, Your Highness, but I must decline.”
The sheik eyed her, then turned toward the plate glass separating them from the storm. “It is terrible weather. Perhaps we could take you someplace?”
Something in her gut said if she got in that limo, she wouldn’t be getting out until the men had their way with her. So why the hell were her panties damp from that thought? She gave the sheik a rueful smile. “I already have plans—”
“Alicia? There you are, sweetheart.”
She whirled at the familiar voice. Richard Brand stalked up to her, wrapped his arm around her waist, and planted a kiss on her lips. A kiss that sent tingles south. A kiss that stole her breath. A kiss like she’d never had before.
Richard Brand. A man she’d fantasized about all those nights when Hank had refused to touch her.
Richard Brand. Her ex’s boss.
Chapter Two
If it weren’t for Richard’s firm hold on her waist, Alicia would have fallen over from that kiss. She could barely catch her breath when their lips parted. Sharp, gray eyes twinkled at her. A gray so light, they appeared silver.
Slapping addled brain cells back in place, she looked at the sheik and his brother. Their expressions matched her own confusion. “Sheik Abdul, Prince Mohammed, may I present Richard Brand?”
“Alsalamo alikom,” Richard said. He held out his huge palm. “A pleasure to see you again, Your Highnesses.”
Both the sheik and his brother shook hands with Richard.
“My pleasure as well.” The sheik’s attention flicked to Alicia, then back to Richard. “I beg your forgiveness, Mr. Brand. I did not know.”
Richard made some comment in Arabic that left all three men chuckling.
Alicia wanted to pull away from Richard’s possessive grip, but some instinct said she was safer with him. What the hell was going on here?
The conversation continued for a few more seconds before Sheik Abdul said, “Until we meet again, Mr. Brand. Ms. Thomas. Salaam.” Abdul and his brother gestured their farewells before they headed through the main hotel doors. The limo driver leapt out of his seat and hurried around to open the back door for the two men. Prince Mohammed shot a contemplative look in her direction before he climbed into their limousine. But seconds later, the vehicle pulled into Connecticut Avenue traffic.
“I think you can let go of me, Mr. Brand,” Alicia whispered.
“Not yet,” Richard whispered back. “Two of their bodyguards are still in the lobby. For your sake, go along with this.” Aloud, he said, “Ready for dinner?”
She managed to murmur something that sounded agreeable. As Richard guided her toward the hotel restaurant, she caught sight of the two men in black suits, pretending to read the Post while they sat in the hotel lobby. Why on earth would the Sheik leave two of his people behind to spy on her? It simply did not make sense.
Neither she nor Richard spoke while they walked toward the restaurant. His hand at the small of her back radiated heat down through her already damp pussy. An evil thought whispered through her mind. Wouldn’t a night of wild monkey sex with her ex’s boss be the perfect revenge?
No, that was totally ridiculous.
Why? a tiny voice at the back of her mind asked. Richard was handsome, single. She wouldn’t be hurting anyone. Her tongue flicked along her lips as she searched for the courage to say what she wanted. What she desired.
The hostess, a girl barely out of braces, smiled at them. “Your usual table, Mr. Brand?”
“Thank you, Bethany.”
Bethany shot her an appraising look, one Alicia recognized all too well from high school. She brushed her hair back from her face, then cursed herself for the self-conscious habit she thought she’d broken. Damn it, she was thirty-two with a terrific career. Maybe the invitation from the sheik and his brother shook her more than she wanted to admit.
No, it wasn’t the invitation itself. It was how much she had wanted to accept it.
Slight pressure just above her ass urged her to follow the hostess. The girl guided them to a quieter area, one sectioned off from the main dining room by a series of folded wooden partitions and huge lush plants.
Alicia took the two steps, and Richard’s hand slipped a few millimeters from the small of her back to the curve of her ass. She couldn’t help herself. She paused for the briefest of instances, reveling in that intimate contact. A quick glance over her shoulder told her Richard knew exactly what she was doing. And if the gleam of lust in his eyes weren’t enough of a message, his slight squeeze of her left ass cheek was.
A slight smile tilted his full lips. He inclined his head toward the table where a not-so-friendly Bethany waited.
Once they were seated and alone, she leaned forward. “Thanks for your help back there, Mr. Brand, but you don’t have to do this.”
Candlelight glimmered in the silver that flecked his temples as he matched her body language. “It’s Richard, and it’s the least I can do.”
“Richard.” Her tongue savored the taste of his name. “It’s just that—” There was nothing in Emily Post’s etiquette guide for seducing your ex’s boss, and Alicia had no clue of how to start.
His black eyebrow flicked upward. “This is awkward as hell thanks to Hank’s little performance in his office.”
The wrong kind of heat rushed to her cheeks. “Yes.” She watched him from hooded eyelids. “Considering you walked in right after me.”
He leaned back. “Mind if I ask you something, Alicia?” A secretive smile curved his lips.
“I suppose it’s the least I owe you for getting me out of that lobby situation.” So why did it feel like she was about to step into some kind of trap?
“Why did you watch for so long before you said something when you caught Hank?”
She straightened at the memories and the odd flood of emotions came rushing back. It had been after hours. She’d hoped to surprise Hank, drag him to a romantic dinner and then to a little B&B in Virginia for the long weekend.
His office door had been cracked open. First had been shock, then…
God help her, she’d been so aroused watching the dominatrix spank him, wishing it were her being punished. Then shame and disgust, an equal mix aimed at her own reaction as much as Hank’s betrayal. And from the way Richard watched her, he knew exactly what was going through her head. She couldn’t meet his eyes any longer. Her gaze dropped to the pristine white tablecloth.
His knee brushed hers. “There’s nothing wrong with liking what you saw.”
“Except Hank did it with every other woman but me.” Months of bitterness coated her words.
Richard laid his hand on top of hers. “There’s nothing wrong with doing certain things, Alicia. But there are rules. Rules Hank violated.”
She raised her head. A combination of anger and sympathy shone from his expression.
“Rules?” Her voice squeaked.
“Yes. Rules.” His thumb eased under her palm and stroked her hyper-sensitized skin. “The first of which is you never harm your partner.”
Alicia licked her lips. He wasn’t offering what she thought, was he? “What are the other rules?”
A wicked smile lit his face. “Honesty is a must at all times.”
“Honesty about?”
“What you want. What you need.” He turned her hand over and began stroking the delicate skin on her wrist.
“And the next rule?” Alicia’s mouth was so dry she could barely get the words out. She shifted in the chair, but the movement only made the throb between her legs worse.
“Making sure your partner is satisfied.” Richard only touched her wrist, and somehow that, coupled with his words and an intense look, was far more erotic than when he had slid his hand down and grabbed her ass.
“May I take your order?”
Richard didn’t so much as twitch at the waiter’s interruption, simply shifted into CEO mode and ordered for both of them.
Alicia blinked and tried to collect her thoughts as the waiter strode away. Thoughts which seemed to be scattered with the storm crackling outside. She’d never let a man order for her. But then, she’d never had a man seduce her with just a touch either. What the hell was wrong with her?
As if sensing her disquiet, Richard released her wrist. “It’s all right to want to let go, to let someone else take care of you once in a while. But I’m not forcing you into something you’re uncomfortable with.”
She reached for the water the waiter had left and took a quick swallow. “Is that another rule?” She couldn’t meet his eyes, afraid she’d be caught in his spell again.
“Yes.”
Surprise forced her to look at him. Sincerity sparked in his eyes along with desire.
“What did you say to Abdul and Mohammed in the lobby?”
He exhaled and reached for her hand again, this time twining his fingers through hers. “That you were too innocent.”
Out of everything she expected him to say, that assessment of her was not at the top of her list. “Excuse me?” She was more embarrassed by the squeak in her voice than his assumption.
Another smile, this one filled with unadulterated humor. “I’ve known the brothers for a long time. They’d never intentionally harm you, but their tastes are…” He paused. “Probably outside of your experience.”
She wasn’t sure if she should be offended at his assumption of her naiveté or touched by his protectiveness. “You don’t think I could handle a threesome?”
“With their wives watching?”
“Wives? Watching?” Once again, her voice squeaked. Oka-a-ay. Maybe she was that naïve.
The waiter chose that moment to deliver the light supper Richard had ordered. And Richard changed the subject to Beltway gossip.
He was giving her space she realized. Space to think about his offer. To come to her own decision. Like after a year and a half with no sex she really needed to debate the issue.
After Richard paid the bill, he stood and offered his arm. Knowing the real offer, she took it. There wasn’t the look of triumph in his eyes like most men she’d dated, just simple acknowledgement.
Instead of leading her back to the lobby, he guided her to the bank of elevators. She raised an eyebrow when he slid his keycard into one of the penthouse slots. He caught her look and gave her a rueful grin. “Would you believe earthquake damage on top of last fall’s tropical storm?”
She laughed and quickly covered her mouth. “I’m sorry. That’s not funny.” She stepped into the elevator and he followed. She’d accompanied Hank to Richard’s estate on Chesapeake Bay for a company function two years ago. The place was absolutely gorgeous. She could imagine what the early fall storm had done to the buildings and grounds. The storm had barely been downgraded from a category one hurricane before it hit D.C. Then the oddball trembler had shaken the east coast last month.
The elevators slid closed. In the tight confines, she couldn’t help but be aware of his body heat, his masculine scent. The combination was a heady rush.
Richard’s grin widened. “Actually, it is hilarious. I can sell billions in software before breakfast, but I can’t control Mother Nature.” He shrugged. “I normally stay over in the city several nights a week anyway, so I moved here until the repairs are completed.”
The elevator doors slid open, and new nervousness slammed into Alicia’s knees, making them weak. Only two doors stood, one at each end of the short hallway. Once again, hot skin at the small of her back guided her, this time to the door on her right. She paused and looked Richard in the eyes. Her hand rose and rested on his chest.
“I-I need to know the rest of the rules before we go inside.” She inclined her head toward the mahogany door.
“You must do exactly what I tell you. No more, no less.”
A little ball of fear clenched inside her. She glanced at the dark wood. Could she really go through with this? Was obeying him, letting him spank her, sleeping with him worth a final ‘screw you’ to Hank?
She looked back up at Richard, searching his face. For what though?
“Do you trust me, Alicia?” he whispered.
That’s what it came down to, wasn’t it? She’d lost trust. Trust in other people. Trust in her own perceptions. She closed her eyes, listening for that little voice. The voice that had told her something was wrong with her marriage. The one that never lied to her.
She opened her eyes and lifted her chin. “Yes.”
Chapter Three
Pleasure curled in Alicia’s stomach at his smile.
“If you get scared or I go too far, say ‘parmesan.’” He unlocked the door and held it open for her.
“Parmesan,” she repeated, though she had to bite her lip to keep from giggling at the code word. No way that could be mistaken for anything else.
Alicia stepped into a suite that put most palaces to shame. Plush sofas and chairs created an intimate conversation pit. Wood of the same deep mahogany as the doors accented various surfaces. The gigantic plate widows drew her with their fantastic view of the White House and, behind it, the Washington Monument. The rain had stopped while they’d eaten. Below, lights twinkled from traffic meandering up and down Connecticut Avenue.
“Take off your jacket, Alicia.”
Of course, he’d want her to undress. The impressive skyline had almost made her forget why she was here.
She laid her attaché on the closest end table and removed her jacket. She folded it and laid it on top of the bag. The folding was only to stop the trembling that threatened to paralyze her. She lifted her foot and reached for her pump.
A sharp smack on her ass made her jump. She whirled and glared at Richard.
“Did I tell you to remove your shoes?”
“No,” she whispered.
“No, what?”
“No, sir.”
He’d turned on one lamp while she’d been staring at the cityscape. Now, he slid off his suit jacket and laid it overtop hers. A mark of possession. He lowered his massive body into an overstuffed chair. His silvery gaze slid over her body, far more intimate than any touch so far.
Alicia shivered. Anticipation and anxiety battled for control of her nerves. “Should I—”
“Did I give you permission to speak?” His voice was as sharp as the smack he’d given her.
She automatically lowered her eyes. “No, sir.” Anticipation won. Would he punish her for this transgression? Part of her hoped he would.
“Unbutton your blouse.” He steepled his hands, elbows resting on the arms of the chair. “Slowly.”
Her fingers reached for the ‘V’ at the base of her throat. Counting to three for each button, she undid each one until she reached the waistband of her skirt. She paused and peeked through lowered lashes, waiting for an instruction. When none came, she tugged her blouse free and undid the last two buttons.
“Take it off.”
Crisp cotton slid from her shoulders. She folded the blouse and laid it on the couch. Despite the need to fidget, she remained still, waiting for the next command.
Silvery gray eyes swept up, down, then focused on her lace-encased breasts. Nipples beaded under the intense scrutiny. “Now, your skirt.”
Reaching behind her, Alicia unbuttoned the wool blend. She inched the zipper down, the rasp of metal teeth scraping her own nerves taunt. Fingers eased the A-line over her hips, down thighs and calves before stepping out of the skirt. She folded it with precision, hyper-aware of Richard’s watchful gaze.
“It’s good to see a woman who knows how to dress appropriately.”
The compliment warmed her cheeks. Hank had rarely paid any attention to how she dressed, and then only to criticize. The white lace bra and panties with the matching garter made her feel feminine, desirable, powerful. That had been the entire reason she’d bought several sets after she’d kicked him out.
But now, her reasons didn’t matter. From the erection pressing against Richard’s slacks, he approved and appreciated. Very much.