Rough Draft: Big Easy Page 10

  “You know what I want, Carissa. I won’t fuck you until you admit it’s what you want too.”

  She didn’t reply though he found some solace in the obvious temptation in her eyes. She wanted to give in, but something was holding her back.

  Time to up the ante.

  “Hold your breath.”

  He didn’t wait to see if she’d obeyed before he released the first nipple clamp.

  She drew in a sharp, pained breath. “Oh my God.”

  Jett didn’t rebuke her for talking. Instead, he bent forward to soothe the aching nub with his lips and tongue.

  Then he repeated the process on her other nipple. She was new to clamps, so he kept her time in them short, allowing her to just feel the bite. Next time, he’d leave them on longer.

  “Bend over the table, Carissa.”

  This time there was no hesitance in her movements as she stepped up to the end of the leather-padded table. He’d chosen it because it was the perfect height. She bent at the waist, groaning softly when her sore nipples hit the padding.

  Jett reached into his pocket to tug out a blindfold. Carissa offered no resistance when he placed it over her eyes. He wasn’t foolish enough to believe her easy acquiesce would last long. She was held tight in the throes of the fantasy, but there was a reality to this type of play that she had yet to experience…to feel.

  He secured the cloth, making sure she couldn’t see, then he used straps to bind her hands to the front legs of the table. Jett stepped behind her, running his hands over her ass. The G-string ran through the slit in her legs. It was damp from her arousal.

  He gently stroked the soft skin of her ass, feeling her relax under his soothing massage. Then he lifted his hand and brought it down hard.

  Carissa jerked and tried to rise. The straps held.

  He didn’t bother to pause or give her time to adjust. He continued to spank her, enjoying the flush and heat his hand provoked. Little did she know this spanking was just a warm-up, a prelude to the main event.

  Carissa stopped struggling against her bondage. Like the previous night, she drifted away from the shock and pain quickly. She began to writhe, lifting up on her toes to meet him blow for blow.

  Through it all, she managed to remain quiet, though Jett suspected she had plenty to say. Especially when he stopped the spanking and stepped away from her.

  A quick glance around the room proved they’d attracted the attention of others. Phillip was standing against a wall near them, his gaze holding steady on Carissa. An uncharacteristic jolt of jealousy pierced. Jett had never felt so possessive of a sub.

  Stella had left her spot at the bar and moved closer. She also seemed enthralled by the scene. Her eyes met his—just for a moment—before she lowered them. Jett was concerned by the complete lack of emotion there. Had Gregory abused her trust, taken his cruelty too far? The woman seemed lost, broken.

  Carissa had stilled on the table and lifted her head. He’d only meant to give her a moment to compose herself before he continued, but he’d left her alone too long. He needed to put the murder out of his mind. Right now, this moment wasn’t a ruse.

  He walked to a shelf nearby and retrieved a short leather flogger. Her response when he’d suggested it had been hesitant, but her reaction to his spanking, the genuine pleasure she found in pain, led him to believe she simply wasn’t aware of what he was offering.

  When he returned to the table, he ran the tails of the flogger against her pink ass, giving her a warning about what was coming. She jolted at the foreign sensation. With the blindfold still in place, she couldn’t see exactly what he was holding.

  She wasn’t resisting her bondage any longer. Her movements indicated she loved the feeling of being restrained, held tight. She didn’t speak. Simply invited him to continue with some of the most beautiful body language he’d ever seen.

  Jett lifted the flogger, slapping her ass with it lightly. He wanted to introduce her to the sensation, the impact, the sting.

  She groaned, her ass rising, silently pleading for more.

  Jett answered the unspoken request, swinging the flogger again—harder. Each time he lifted and brought it down, Carissa was there—ready, waiting. Her body trembled as sweat trickled from her hairline. Jett could sympathize. He was on fire, his cock throbbing in genuine pain.

  He’d sworn he wouldn’t take her until she was ready to commit to a relationship and he meant to keep that vow. God help him.

  After he’d laid a dozen strokes on her ass, he tossed the flogger to the side. He stepped up to the table, his thighs brushing the backs of her legs. “Open,” he commanded, his hands doing the work for her.

  He ran his finger along her drenched slit. She moaned loudly. Jett could feel so many eyes on them. Carissa’s natural, untutored responses had earned them an audience. Jett didn’t care. At this moment, the only thing that mattered was her and her pleasure. He tugged the string of her thong aside and drove three fingers inside her pussy.

  Carissa came undone. Her body jerked roughly against the table. Jett kept his hand in place as he leaned forward, covering her with his chest.

  He thrust his fingers in and out no more than a handful of times as he pressed her against the table. She cried out loudly when her orgasm came, her inner muscles clenching tightly against his fingers.

  He tugged off the blindfold. “Open your eyes,” he whispered, when Carissa kept them pressed closed.

  They opened slowly and she blinked several times before her vision cleared. She glanced at him over her shoulder.

  Jett smiled and kissed her. “You were incredible.”

  She didn’t return his smile, her face far too serious. “Please untie me.”

  Jett’s brow creased as concern set in. Had he misread her responses? He rose without haste, releasing the straps on her wrists.

  Carissa was off the table within seconds. She hadn’t said the safe word, hadn’t given him any indication that she was scared or hurt.

  “Rissa—” he started, true worry gripping him.

  She dropped to her knees before he could say another word. Her fingers hastily unfastened his pants, reaching inside to tug out his erection.

  Jett placed his hands on her shoulders to push her away, but her lips found the head of his cock, sucking it in deeply on the first pass.

  Honor be damned. There was no force in nature that could provoke Jett to call a halt as Carissa sucked harder.

  His hands tangled in her hair and he used that grasp to increase the pace. Jett lost his tenuous grip on his control as he fucked Carissa’s mouth. In another place, another state of mind, he would have taken more care.

  But here, now, finesse and gentleness had been stamped out. Replaced by a clawing, ravenous hunger that could only be assuaged by demanding, almost cruel passion.

  Carissa didn’t resist, didn’t pull away. She let him take her, encouraged him to claim more with her soft moans. She teased him with her teeth and begged him with her eyes.

  Jett was lost. A goner.

  His hand tightened in her hair as his cock exploded, sending jets of hot come down her throat. Carissa swallowed, didn’t miss a single drop, holding him in her mouth even after he’d released her.

  Jett stiffened his spine, fighting not to fall to his knees. She’d sucked him dry. Neither of them moved for several moments as they worked to regain their strength. Carissa managed first. She slowly tried to rise from the floor on unsteady legs. Jett reached under her arms to help her stand.

  They looked at each other, neither saying a word.

  And then, she smiled.

  Jett grinned, cupping her face with his hands. Bending forward, he kissed her. A slow, sensuous melding of lips before she pulled away, her face telling him the battle hadn’t been won yet.

  She was still resisting.

  So he was changing tactics. If she wouldn’t accept his words, he’d simply try to convince her with actions.

  Jett was going to seduce his best friend.
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  Chapter Eight

  Three days passed and the longer he was with her, the more Jett was convinced she was his kindred spirit—emotionally and physically.

  Jett had launched an all-out assault on her with passion, driving her to orgasm after orgasm…with his fingers, his lips, her vibrator. He’d taken her a dozen different ways, but he’d never consummated the relationship, never made love to her the way he wanted to.

  Though she’d played fair, stroking and sucking him to completion, she still held back, refused to give him what he knew they both wanted. It was frustrating, maddening, and the devil in him had to admit, hot as hell.

  The hours since their arrival on Eden had flown by in a blur. Nonstop activity that meant nothing…and everything. They’d shared drinks by the pool with other guests as they tried to ferret out information. They’d gone for long swims in the ocean and taken long walks on the beach because Carissa insisted she needed to exercise after all the delicious food they’d gorged themselves on. They’d attended several of Eden’s planned social events, in their attempts to discover the murderer.

  In the midst of all of that, Jett’s pent-up words had been released, and he spent several hours each day tapping away on his laptop while Carissa went shopping with Stella or explored the island on her own.

  Each night they’d returned to the dungeon and Jett continued her instruction on the beauty of BDSM. The shared kinks and desires had broken something free, changed the easy relationship they’d always shared, adding a different, more heated dimension.

  Both of them walked around like live wires, sparking at the slightest glancing brushes, electricity seeking an outlet, until Jett had no choice but to drag her to their room or find some out-of-the-way custodial closet where he’d tug down her pants and finger her until she came. Sometimes it was Carissa who broke first and Jett would be forced to remain stone-faced as she stroked his cock under the table in the restaurant or in the ocean. They couldn’t keep their hands off each other.

  The only thing that kept Jett from breaking his vow was Stella. She had attached herself to Carissa, constantly seeking them out during the day, planting herself beside Carissa for several hours.

  Carissa had initially cultivated the association in an attempt to discover more about Gregory. The murder investigation was never far from their minds, both Jett and Carissa analyzing the information they had, sifting through the clues. They’d spent many afternoons tossing out suppositions, frustrated that their investigation hadn’t yielded many results. They’d hit a brick wall.

  Both of them agreed Phillip seemed to top their list in terms of motive. The Dom continued to come to the club each night, sitting in the corner nursing a drink while watching Stella. He never chose a sub to play with. Instead, he simply sat and observed.

  However, as more time passed, Jett began to suspect that Carissa had a soft spot for Stella. Carissa was a sucker for a stray cat and Stella definitely fit that mold. The woman was a bit odd and Jett found himself growing more curious about her.

  Carissa knew Jett was excited by his newly broken writer’s block, so she would escape with Stella each afternoon in order to give him time to write. He appreciated her patience with him. Now that he’d found his voice again, Jett was afraid to let the momentum die. Carissa understood that and gave him the time he needed to keep the words flowing. He’d caught her trying to sneak peeks over his shoulder, but each time he teasingly told her she’d just have to wait to buy the book.

  Throwing himself into his work was helping in another regard as well. He let the story harness some of his unending horniness and give him a brief respite from his pursuit of Carissa. He suspected it was his unrequited feelings for her that were molding the story. The rough draft hitting the pages was every bit as intense as his past books crime-wise, but this one was a bit different. A new, more erotic element had found its way into the story as well. Jett didn’t have a clue if his readers would enjoy it, but personally, he thought it was shaping up to be the best book he’d ever written.

  Jett lay on his back staring at the ceiling, listening to the water running as Carissa showered. It was Thursday night and he was worn out.

  Carissa stepped out of the bathroom, wrapped in a terrycloth robe. She walked to the closet and started to pull out the mini-skirt she’d worn her first night in the dungeon. Clearly she expected them to repeat the same pattern as every other night, however, the dark circles under her eyes told him she was tired too. For a vacation, it had been a bit of a whirlwind.

  “Put that away.”

  She turned. “What?”

  “We’re not going to the dungeon tonight.”

  “What about the investigation?”

  “We’re here on vacation, Rissa. Don’t you think it’s time we took a little time to focus on just us?”

  She nodded. “I’d like that. You’ve sort of thrown me for a loop this week and I’m afraid I’m handling all of this very badly.”

  He chuckled. “What do you say we take a night off? Late dinner downstairs? Just friends?”

  “I’d like that.”

  They needed to get out of the room. And away from the damn bed. Carissa put on a pretty sundress that fired his libido more than her mini-skirt. Or her bikini. Or the leather corset. Then it occurred to Jett that she could walk around in a feed sack and he’d still want her.

  There was no way he could sit across the table from her and not want her. Despite offering to do the just friends thing, he knew that ship had sailed. He simply couldn’t look at her without feeling a million different things that had nothing to do with platonic friendship.

  He was in love with her. He was starting to think he’d been in love with her for years, but was too stupid and blind to realize it.

  “I’m ready.”

  He smiled and offered her a friendly hand. By the time they’d been seated in the restaurant, Jett was starting to feel like he could breathe again. However he didn’t hold out much hope that he’d make it through the night without reaching for her in their shared bed.

  Jett ordered a bottle of wine and once it had been delivered, they sat quietly, listening to a man playing the piano. Jett was surprised by how relaxed he was, given the incredible tension he’d been suffering.

  “Not exactly the vacation we’d planned, is it?” she asked after a few minutes of silent contemplation. The lines around her eyes and mouth had eased and he was glad he’d called for the temporary truce.

  “No. I guess not. Although you did manage to help me break the writer’s block. I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to thank you enough for that, Rissa.”

  She smiled and shook her head, refusing to take credit for doing anything. He was used to her demurring and downplaying his compliments. “You would have figured it out on your own. You were born to be a writer, Jett. So what’s the story about?”

  He grinned. “Nope. No spoilers. You’ll just have to wait until I’m finished.”

  She pouted prettily. “That’s not fair. You’ve kept me in suspense for months over Riley’s fate. What happens?”

  In his last book, Jett had left the hero in a life or death situation, a stupid move on his part that had left his readers even more rabid than usual for the next story. He shrugged, enjoying the way her eyes narrowed in annoyance.

  “You’re a heartless bastard, you know that, right?”

  Jett laughed. “I may have been told that a time or two or twenty in my life.”

  Carissa took another sip of her wine, then sighed. “I love this song.”

  Jett listened to the music. It was familiar and yet he couldn’t quite place it. “Where have I heard this before?”

  “It’s the theme to Forrest Gump.”

  He nodded slowly. “Your favorite movie.”

  “Yep.”

  He and Carissa had spent one playful night at the Royal Lunch reciting almost the entire movie with each other—her playing Jenny to his Forrest.

  Jett leaned back. “Life is like a box of
chocolates.”

  “And I sure wasn’t expecting what I got this week.”

  She’d opened the door. Jett was glad. It was time to talk.

  “Me either. But I’m not sorry about it, Rissa.”

  She toyed with the stem of her wineglass. “You know I love you, Jett.”

  They were the words he wanted to hear from her, but he understood the tone, the sentiment. She meant she loved him as a friend.

  “This could be as easy as breathing. As far as I can see, we’re compatible right down the line—sexually, emotionally, sarcastically.”

  Carissa rolled her eyes at his last comparison, then she threw him for a loop. “Are we? Really?”

  It was clear she didn’t think so.

  He started to ask her where she thought they didn’t match up when one of the resort employees walked up to their table. “Are you Jett Lewis?”

  Jett nodded. “Yes.”

  “There’s a call at the front desk from your mother.”

  Jett rose quickly.

  Carissa stood as well. “Why wouldn’t she call your cell?”

  Jett shrugged. “My service has been spotty at best while we’ve been here. Maybe she couldn’t get through.”

  “I hope everything is okay.”

  He silently prayed for the same thing, but he feared the worse. His mother wouldn’t call him on vacation if it weren’t an emergency. “I’ll be right back.”

  “Okay.”

  He walked to the lobby, but he was stopped before he could reach the front desk.

  “Jett.”

  He turned to find Stella standing next to him. “I’m sorry, Stella. I can’t talk right now. There’s a phone call for–”

  “There’s no call.”

  Jett frowned. “What do you mean?”

  “I called the front desk and pretended to be your mother.”

  “Why would you do that?”