Bound To Protect. Anya Summers
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.
Chapter 5
Sabrina observed the two big men sauntering toward her. It was like looking at an archangel and the devil. Michael, with his cultured, blond good looks that dripped confidence and wealth. Dante, with his dark hair and gaze exuding a sensuality that blared he was comfortable with himself, and with indulging in his passions.