Midnight Renegade by Anya Summers

7

Baiting a tiger before she waltzed into its den wasn’t the smartest idea Reegan had ever had. Except, the damn man had pushed all her buttons with his holier than thou, you will bow before me attitude.

Yes, she realized that he was a Dom, and it was in his basic makeup to control the universe. But outside the parameters of the bedroom or club, she refused to be controlled. Reegan had grown up with helicopter parents who had kept such a tight leash on her that now, at thirty-one, she was still rebelling against their restrictive constraints.

Which was why she now sat pensively in her SUV, staring up at his stunning house, debating whether continuing the deal with Brody was the right move on her part. This was supposed to help her achieve closure, all while giving her a few hot nights. Not tying her up in knots and making her question her decision.

She lowered her head to the steering wheel, and inhaled some calming breaths. If only the sex wasn’t the most mind-blowing, world-altering sex she had ever had. If it wasn’t, she could walk away without looking back.

But heaven help her, merely the thought of his hands on her or the memory of their nights together, left her achy and yearning for another go around. The man and his intense passion were addictive. The discipline and pain Brody meted out were at the exact tenor and frequency her body required to achieve maximum satisfaction.

Reegan gulped a steadying breath. She could handle anything the man dished out. Lifting her head, she opened her eyes and screamed. She screamed so loud, she likely woke the dead.

Brody was pressed up against the glass of her driver side window. Or, more accurately, his face—cupped by his hands—was against the glass. The position made him appear downright devious.

At her response, he tossed his head back with a loud bark of laughter. The laughter transformed his face completely. Brody had always been handsome. But the mirth turned him into a gorgeous hunk of beefcake. The deadbolted door Reegan kept on her emotions rattled fiercely. She couldn’t soften toward him and let him in. She had done that once, and been burned in the offing.

Yet she couldn’t stop the tendrils of desire as they curled in her belly. Reegan wanted to grab on to his euphoria. Surround herself with it, and him, like a protective blanket. And his joy and enthusiasm for life tugged mercilessly at memories of that one perfect night. She had been so young, and by the end of the night, there had been stars in her eyes.

But she couldn’t ever forget for a moment how swiftly those stars had plummeted, and that they were now buried at the bottom of the ocean of her heart. And she had no plans to excavate those stars. Ever. They were better left buried.

Schooling her features into annoyance with a heaping side of disdain, because the last thing she would ever do was admit how much he affected her, she shut off her engine and grabbed her bag.

Brody opened the door for her, still chuckling.

“Keep it up, fuzzball,” she snapped derisively.

“Oh babe, you’ve got to admit, that was hilarious.”

“Oh yeah, it was a riot act.” She rolled her eyes and seriously thought about calling it a night. Except, she knew if she backed out, this would be it for them. No more hotter than hell nights tearing up his sheets, and she wasn’t ready for that portion to be done.

Brody studied her and his face turned thoughtful, like he was gauging her mood. “Let’s head in.”

He provided her with a teensy bit of space to climb out. The moment her feet touched the ground, he backed her up against the car and kissed her. Cradling her face in his hands, directing her. Tilting her head up, pressing a thumb against the corner of her lips, forcing her mouth open wider. One minute, she wanted to throttle the man. And in the next, she clung to him, digging her fingers into his solid chest as he ravished her mouth. The erotic storming of her defenses turned her state of being topsy-turvy.

Reegan couldn’t seem to keep a steady eye on her personal horizon. Not when he spun her entire being for a loop with a just kiss. A world-altering experience that left her grasping for a fingerhold, even as her existence narrowed to just him.

Reegan melted against his muscular form. There was no other way to describe how her body reacted. The enigma of their chemistry after so many years spent hating him only served to further confuse her. How could she desire him like air to breathe? Especially since most of the time, she wanted to box his ears.

In short order, he had become her sun and moon and stars, her dominant north star to guide her way. And it worried her. Because if she wasn’t careful, when this all ended, she would be left picking up the shattered remains of her soul.

Brody tore his mouth away, grabbed her bag, and gruffly said, “Come on. I’ve got dinner ready.”

“Dinner?” she asked rather unsteadily. His one-eighty turns from being her God of Sex to taciturn dictator ordering her about gave her whiplash.

“Yeah, you’ve heard of it, right? It’s that thing people do with food in the evening. They sit at a kitchen table and eat dinner.”

“But you didn’t say anything about dinner.” She followed his perfectly formed, jean-clad ass through the front door and dogged his steps all the way into the kitchen, telling herself it didn’t matter that he looked like sex on a stick in jeans and a gray tee shirt.

Heady, delicious aromas filled the luxurious kitchen. When Brody designed his home, he went all in. And the spacious kitchen held a double gas stove with dual side by side ovens. It was obviously professional grade, the stainless steel gleamed beneath the recessed lighting. The walnut cabinetry looked hand carved. And now that she knew his level of craftsmanship, Reegan would bet that he had not only designed them, but made them by hand. Ivory granite countertops graced the tops of the bottom cabinets. His refrigerator was one of those big, restaurant-sized numbers too. Her parents had something similar at their house just outside of DC. Her mother liked to say it was perfect for all the functions she hosted at home.

Brody dropped her bag on one of the empty chairs around the dark oak-stained kitchen table. Her heart stopped. There were two place settings on the table at one end. It stopped her cold. What was he doing? She narrowed her eyes. “I thought we agreed that we aren’t dating.”

“We’re not. It’s just dinner. I’m hungry, and need to eat. It would be rude for me to invite you over when I have every intention of eating before we get started tonight, and not offer you any.” Brody shrugged as if it were no skin off his nose if she chose not to eat. But she knew him better than that, and it didn’t sit right with her.

“I don’t understand why I couldn’t have come later then,” she complained, even as her stomach protested its lack of sustenance and growled at the mouthwatering aromas. If only she had stopped for lunch today, and eaten instead of doing that damn video.

“Have you eaten?”

She sputtered, “Well, no. But—”

“Sit. We’re going to eat first. That’s all. Don’t look more into it than what it is.” Brody nudged her over to the table.

Eyeing him with heaping doses of skepticism, she took a seat in the chair. “I didn’t realize you could cook.”

“I like eating, ergo, I figured out long ago how to cook.” He carried a hot dish over to the table and placed it on a stone trivet.

Roast chicken and root veggies, a salad, and a bottle of wine. It was suspiciously a date style meal. But she couldn’t deny the fact that she was starving. Besides, it was better than the protein bar she had put in her bag for her dinner.

Before she could fill her plate, Brody served the dish up, then poured chilled chardonnay into waiting wine glasses. Her suspicion grew as she watched him. The words he spoke were a far cry from his actions. Because he was acting every bit like this was a date. And Reegan didn’t know how to think or feel about it.

“I didn’t figure you had any manners.” She lobbed the sarcastic dig with her rising fury. How dare he try to turn this into a date? She was two times a fool for not calling him on it and storming out immediately.

“I was housebroken long ago,” he replied and took his seat, giving her a knowing look like he knew she was a flight risk.

“Yeah? What woman did you put through hell as she taught you those manners?”

“My mom.” He pierced her with a brooding stare.

Reegan’s anger deflated along with her biting retort. She knew he’d experienced a specific kind of hell with his mom’s diagnosis and treatment. “Well, she did a good job.”

“She did.”

“I never told you how sorry I was when she died. I know you two were tight.”

Pain flashed across his features for a millisecond. If she had been looking anywhere else but his face, she would have missed the sorrow that filled his eyes. He nodded. “Appreciate it. Eat.”

“Dinner looks great.”

“I guarantee it tastes even better.”

He wasn’t wrong about that. The chicken had the perfect blend of spices and was so juicy she forgot about her malaise with the whole situation, instead focusing on the meal. When was the last time someone had cooked her a meal? Well, Paul, but that was months ago. But she knew that a relationship couldn’t be based on the fact that the man cooked.

“How was the Dom meeting?”

“The usual stuff. We’ve got some new members,” he replied, taking a sip of wine.

“Really?” It had been a while since they’d had new Doms to play with at The Eros Pit. Long enough that even Reegan’s interest was piqued to at least check them out.

“Yep. They’re cousins with the Ryans.”

“Well hell, subs will be lining up to try them out.” The Ryan brothers were favorites at the club. And now with both Gabe and Dean off the market, fresh Ryan blood would have the submissives overjoyed, and after them like a feeding frenzy of sharks.

“Don’t even think about it.” He leveled her with a stern glare.

“I wasn’t.” Admittedly, there was a part of her that wondered if perhaps one of the Ryan cousins could break the spell that Brody seemed to have over her and her loins.

“Uh-huh. To remind you, we agreed that while we are doing each other, other people are off limits.”

“I was just trying to strike up simple conversation. I find it interesting because it’s not often we have new members of the Dom variety. Especially now with Gabe, Dean, and Ryker all taken, it will be nice for the submissives of the club in general.”

He didn’t look convinced. Instead, he leaned close and muttered, “Say the word and we can end this arrangement now. If not, I would appreciate you not sitting there with a salacious gleam in your eyes over new meat.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. And I don’t have plans to end this unless you want to.”

“I just said I don’t.”

“Then I need to remind you that while I submit in the bedroom and dungeon, outside of that, my life is my own. That you have no control over my job or what I need to do for it. Because I seriously doubt you would appreciate me telling you how to run your company and interfering with it.”

Brody nodded his golden head. “I’ll concede on that point.”

“Good. Thank you.” She sipped at the wine.

“But don’t think this has gotten you out of your punishment.” He rose and took the empty plates over to the sink.

“Punishment… for what?”

Brody stood with his hands planted on the kitchen island. “Would you like the list? Lying about what you were doing last night. Omitting pertinent details is lying. The attitude you displayed when I called you on it. And, my favorite,” he sauntered back over to her and boxed her in on the chair before she could rise, “was the little stunt you pulled after I threatened to withhold your orgasms tonight.”

He cupped her mound through her leggings and dared her to protest with the firm set of his jaw. “This pussy is mine. You don’t get to touch it without my permission.”

“Excuse me?” She gulped at the dangerous gleam in his eyes. An erotic thrill shot through her at his one-eighty turn.

He lowered his face until they were inches apart. “You heard me. This is mine.”

“We agreed on no commitment,” she sputtered in protest, but it sounded weak even to her ears.

“Until we decide to end this arrangement, this pussy belongs to me. That means I get to decide when you come and when you won’t, not you. And while I admit that I enjoyed the show, it was done purely out of spite, and not because you wanted to send me a gift.”

“And how many times have you watched it?” she asked as the heat of his palm seeped through her leggings to her sex.

“That’s a moot point. Stop trying to lay blame elsewhere when it can be laid at your feet.” Which computed to at least a hundred times.

“I wasn’t trying… argh, you are the most infuriating man alive.” She clenched her hands into fists to keep them from wrapping around his neck and squeezing.

“That may be, but you agreed to this arrangement. Don’t be forgetting that.”

“How can I when you remind me of it daily?”

He gripped her tighter when she tried to squirm from his grip. “Say it, babe. Repeat after me. Brody, my pussy belongs to you.”

Reegan chewed on her bottom lip. Every part of her rebelled at the idea even as the submissive in her yearned for it. Yes, she was a total headcase. She knew that. It was one of the reasons she was single. If she repeated those words, it would speak of ownership, grant him more license of her being, and shackle her with chains.

She shook her head. “No, Sir.”

He narrowed his gaze. “You will before the night is done. Head on back to the dungeon while I clean up in here. Oh, and remember, in my dungeon, you aren’t allowed any clothes.”

Brody backed off by degrees, the light of challenge in his green eyes. She quivered at the carnal darkness that made her want to surrender and run away at the same time. She feared she would cave before the night was done. But if she offered up the words that he demanded she utter, what then? How long before the bars of the prison he placed around her slid into place and trapped her?

“And if I don’t?”

“Are you really going to defy me, here and now?”

“And if I am?” She could be just as mulish as he when it was warranted.

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” He hauled her bodily from the chair, sat, and had her face down over his lap before she could utter a protest.

He gripped the back of her leggings. With a ferocious yank, he ripped the material down the seam. She gasped at the violence in him tonight.

His palm connected with her butt with such force, the breath exploded from her lungs in a painful gasp. Brody didn’t speak as he established a brutal pace for the walloping. Tears streamed from her eyes and dripped onto the tile floor.

She whimpered at the hard whacks raining down even as her pussy throbbed. Brody didn’t hold back as he spanked her. But the pain was a salve. It always had been since she had entered the world of BDSM. It was her way of getting into the right head space. His wicked reprimand ignited a flame that licked through her whole being until she was ablaze.

Her ass burned from every strike. But the frenzied fire bled into her core and converted into the most exquisite fervor imaginable. With her hands on the floor, she canted her hips up, telling him with her body that she desired his blistering touch.

Her body galloped toward a brilliant climax. Moans spilled from her lips, even as her tears dried on her cheeks.

Brody plunged two fingers inside her channel. The swift change as he pumped them deep left her wailing.

“Sir,” she breathed on a passionate sigh.

“Who does this pussy belong to?”

“Me.” She groaned low, on the precipice of coming. A few more thrusts would launch her into ardent bliss.

At her response, Brody removed his fingers from her sex. He smacked her bottom, then set her on her feet.

Beside herself, shocked by the loss of his touch and panting, she stuttered, “Sir, what—”

“I told you that I would deny you. And now that you’re digging your heels in and refusing to surrender, I will definitely not be allowing you to climax any time soon.”

“Why? The nerve! I can’t believe I ever agreed to this. You’re a bully.” She yanked up her ruined pants.

With his hands on his lean hips, he stared her down. “If you leave, this is done. I won’t put up with a disobedient brat who throws a temper tantrum every time she doesn’t get her way. If you plan on staying, you need to present yourself in my dungeon in the next five minutes if you do not wish to incur my wrath further. Because if you think you’re hurting now, just wait and see what happens if you refuse to comply.”

Then he backed off completely. Reegan glared at his broad back as he carried the rest of dinner over to the kitchen island. She glanced in the direction of the front door, which she equated with freedom, and then back his way. He stood at the kitchen island, putting dirty dishes into the dishwasher, and the leftovers into containers, not paying her any heed.

She had angered him. That much was crystal clear.

The truth was, she was not ready for this erotic odyssey to end. When it did, she wanted it to be because she wanted it over. And not because he had pushed her to it out of fury or fear.

Holding her pants up with one hand, she used her free one to grab her bag. With as much dignity as she possessed, she padded past him.

“And you are not allowed to touch my pussy.” His voice followed her down the hall toward his room and dungeon.

She’d made her choice. For better or worse, she was in this until they mutually called it quits. So why did it feel like she had conceded more than merely her body?