Читать книгу Bound To Protect - Anya Summers - Страница 8

Dante drove his Escalade through the streets of downtown N’Awlins intrinsically aware of his passenger, who was currently stewing in her seat. Anger radiated from every supple line of her killer body. Well, he wasn’t all that pleased with Sabrina at the moment either. After the day he’d had, she was one more messy complication.

But perhaps a necessary one that would end up being a gift from the heavens.

Sabrina had been cleaning for him and Michael for two years. In all the time he had known her, he had kept Sabrina at arm’s length, as he did with all his employees. He maintained a strict hands-off policy with people who worked for him. No dipping his wick in the company ink, not for him or for Michael. That way led to ruin.

But that didn’t mean he’d not been aware of her. Sabrina was all woman: curvy, petite and, to his mind, downright fuckable with her tiny waist and slender legs. She had really great legs.

And he’d felt like he had been hit upside the head with a frying pan when he spied her on stage at Bayou Sin. Deep down, he’d known she would be splendid without clothes on. But he hadn’t been prepared for the golden goddess, her high, firm breasts swaying, her pale rose nipples which were perfectly formed and should be adorned with clamps, and the expanse of sun-kissed, smooth skin that glowed beneath the spotlight.

He’d been hard the moment his gaze landed on her. And rage unlike anything he had ever felt before surfaced.

Dante was not averse to female flesh, nor to women displaying their wares. Hell, he’d built the best strip joint on one of the busiest party streets in the world around that enterprise. But when he’d spotted Sabrina on the stage, he’d experienced a wave of protectiveness and an urgent need to shield her, to blind any man who sat in his club, leering at her, with a vicious possessiveness he had never felt for a woman before. And it was all because, staring at her golden splendor, he had imagined what it would be like to suck on her succulent tits for hours, and feel her writhing beneath him.

“Where are you taking me?” she asked with a hint of fear in her voice.

“She speaks.” He hated her fear. The fact that she didn’t know he would cut off both his hands before he’d hurt her.

“Dante, I’m serious. This is ridiculous. Why did you take me off the stage like that? What business is it of yours if I decide to make a buck taking my clothes off? And stop dodging the questions, where are we going?”

“It’s not the place for you.”

“Then I’ll find another one. I don’t see you having an issue with all the other women who work at your club.”

“Sabrina, like I said before, I will ensure none of the other strip clubs hire you. I know all the owners. And we’re heading to the penthouse.” Some of the strip club owners didn’t have his hands-off policy, and liked to sample the merchandise. Like hell would Dante allow her anywhere near those joints.

“Why? Am I that unattractive? I realize I might have been a little unschooled, but that’s no reason for you to do what you did back there.”

He heard the uncertainty and insecurity that she tried to hide behind her bluster. It made him soften: her display of bravery when the quiver in her voice spoke to the contrary. “Love, if I thought for one second that stripping was for you then I wouldn’t have interfered. But you forget, I know you well enough to know that it’s not the life for you.”

“You can’t know that. Just because I clean for you, doesn’t mean you know me.” She huffed.

He threw his vehicle into park in his space in the enclosed, private parking garage. “I do, more than you realize. You’re kind, thoughtful, and a hard worker. But stripping is not for you.”

And that, he figured, was that on the subject matter. They had more pressing things to deal with, and he did believe they could help one another out. He rounded his Escalade and opened the passenger door. Unhooking her cuffs from the chain, he helped her out.

“So I’m not good looking enough, is that it? You couldn’t have just told me that after I finished, and let me walk away with a smidgeon of dignity?” she stated mutinously after he shut the door.

It was the sheen of tears lining her lashes that did it. Gripping the cuffs with one hand, he yanked her bound hands above her head and, with his body, pressed her back against the vehicle. Her eyes widened, her bottom lip trembled.

“Let’s get one thing straight, love. Every single man in Bayou tonight wanted to fuck you the moment they spied you, myself included,” Dante growled.

She rolled her eyes as if she didn’t believe him.

“Don’t believe me? I’ll show you.” He fisted his free hand in the wealth of her silken golden tresses, tipped her head back, and crushed his lips over hers. Dante planned on kissing her quickly, just to prove his point. He wasn’t an inexperienced youth with his first woman, but a well-seasoned Master known for his control.

Yet he hadn’t expected her plump lips to taste quite so sweet, or anticipated what the sound of her moaned gasp would do to his system. It tripped all the wires in his brain that allowed him to maintain control, and unleashed every single one of his primal urges. She whimpered against him as he slanted his mouth and demanded her surrender.

He ravaged her lips—thrust his tongue inside, and stroked the inner contours of her mouth in a kiss that evolved into a torrid mating of tongues and lips. He pressed his hips against her, letting her feel the full impact of his arousal. Dante hadn’t been lying. The moment he had spotted her on stage in nothing but the itty-bitty shorts she was still wearing beneath his shirt, he’d wanted to drag her off stage into the nearest corner, and sink himself inside her flesh.

It had only been his stalwart control that had kept him from doing the latter.

Mine. The drumbeat sounded in his blood.

Dante tore his mouth away from Sabrina’s. If he kept this up, he would fuck her in the parking garage. And that was not the reason he’d brought her there tonight.

The wide-eyed wonder combined with the innocent hunger in her eyes almost made him reconsider.

“Don’t ever think for one second that you’re unattractive. Because I think you’re fucking gorgeous. Always have. And if you think for one moment that if I didn’t need you for something else, I wouldn’t be availing myself of your delightful body and fucking you until you couldn’t walk, then you’re not as smart as I believe you to be.”

Shocked arousal covered her features. Her bottom-heavy mouth was swollen from the exchange, and her Kelly-green gaze dark with desire. And Christ, but he wanted to nibble on that full bottom lip. He hadn’t lied about that, either. She was drop dead gorgeous. High cheekbones like razorblades. Smooth, creamy skin with a hint of sun-kissed golden dew. Big, verdant green eyes a man could drown within, framed by inky lashes. His gaze dipped lower and spied the beaded points of her nipples pressing against the dark material of his shirt.

For a split second, he thought, Screw it. I want her, and she clearly wants me.

It took all his energy to battle back the need raging through his being—the part of him that wanted to fuck her long and hard until she was screaming with release.

“Come on. We need to go talk to Michael.” He left no room for her to disagree. Using the hand holding her hands in bound cuffs, he towed her behind him to the elevator.

She didn’t struggle or argue further with him. In the elevator, she stared at him with owl eyes, her lips still swollen from his kiss.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured. He had been more than demanding of her. She had tripped the beast in him he rarely let out, even with well-educated subs.

“For what?” she whispered.

“I shouldn’t have kissed you like that. It won’t happen again,” Dante said as the doors opened onto the penthouse level. He couldn’t let himself touch her again.

Before she had a chance to respond, he led her into the penthouse. Michael was sprawled on one of the Chesterfield sofas, a glass of scotch in his hand, and the bottle a third of the way empty.

“I leave you alone for a few minutes, and look at you,” Dante said.

Michael swiveled his head, cocking a brow. “Morning already? Why is the maid in handcuffs?”

Dante sighed. “I need you to sober up. I think I’ve found a solution to our little problem.” He nodded at Sabrina.

At that, both Michael’s brows rose. “Is that a fact?”

“I need to speak with you alone, Michael.”

Michael nodded and rose, taking his glass and the bottle with him into the kitchen.

“Why don’t you have a seat on the couch, love? We’ll be with you in just a moment,” Dante said, nudging Sabrina onto the sofa.

Her gaze darted to the elevator. With a grimace, he leaned down and located one of the hidden chains on the back ledge of the couch, then connected it to her cuffs. The move put her arms up, behind her head. He drew the chain tighter. That way she wouldn’t be able to get them undone.

“Dante? What the hell?” she sputtered.

“You’re a flight risk. And right now, we need you, and I don’t have time to go chasing you all over the Quarter.”

Dante left her cursing him. He’d give her credit for the inventiveness of her cussing. He plodded into the kitchen, eyeing his best friend. He and Michael had known each other for more than a decade, and had been topping subs together for almost as long. He knew Michael as well as he knew himself. But he’d not realized how much this attack from inside his company was hurting Michael.

“What’s with bringing the maid here tonight? Why is she wearing your shirt and spitting mad? Have you been fucking her on the side?” Michael asked, pouring two fingers of scotch into his empty glass.

“Knock it off with the scotch. I need you sober and level-headed.”

“Yeah, well, I’m way past that. You didn’t answer the question,” Michael said, and tossed back the scotch as if it were water.

“I found Sabrina at my club, on stage, stripping.”

“No shit.” Michael glanced across the open space between the living room and the kitchen, giving her a once over, and then back at Dante. “I never figured her for the type.”

“It was her first night. I pulled her off stage before she could get all the way down to just a thong.”

“Pity. That might have been a sight to behold. And you brought her here, why?” Michael quirked a brow with interest.

“You need a fake fiancée, right? She’s already been vetted by Quinten and his background checks. She’s someone the board would never suspect. And she’s been coming to the penthouse for the last two years.”

“Yeah, as the maid,” Michael said with a shake of his head.

“Don’t be obtuse. How would anyone know why she was really here if the story you used was that your relationship has been lowkey?”

Michael considered him. “We’d need to do something about her wardrobe. But again, why her?”

“I think she’s in a tight spot. Mentioned she was at the club stripping cause she needed money. We make it a business transaction with a non-disclosure agreement, much like with the club. She already had to sign an NDA to clean for us in case she heard something she wasn’t supposed to.”

“You think she could be the spy?” Michael jutted his chin her way.

“No. You said yourself—before you decided to crawl inside the bottle—that it was likely someone who had watched us top a sub together. That wouldn’t be Sabrina. Think, man, she’s the best one suited for the job.”

“And we make it worth her while financially, is that what you’re saying?” Michael asked drolly.

“She’s desperate enough to strip, so I say yes. It’s not like we don’t have more money than we will ever be able to spend in three lifetimes,” Dante exclaimed, his level of frustration rising. Here he was trying to save the man’s ass—all of theirs, perhaps—and he was being stubborn and picky when they didn’t have the time for it.

“Fair enough. But I want to know what she needs the money for. If it’s gambling or a drug issue, it’s best we know now. I can’t have more of a problem. And if it’s nothing but debt she needs help with, then you’re right. She could be the ticket we need. I figure ten large should cover it, and entice her into saying yes.”

“Agreed. That’s a fair amount, and it’s not like it isn’t a drop in the bucket for you. Let’s find out whether she’s up for it,” Dante stated with a jerk of his head, and trod the short distance back into the living room. He was just as curious, and interested in her response.