Micah watched as the woman accepted a bottle of beer from Trace and then thanked him before walking toward him and Dace. As she got closer, he could see that her eyes were a vivid green. They seemed to glow against her pale skin and were set off by her dark hair. She smiled, and before he could stand up and say or do anything, she had grabbed an empty chair from a nearby table and turned it so the back almost touched the side of the table between him and Dace. Then she placed her helmet and bottle of beer on the table, unzipped her jacket, straddled the chair, and turned to face him.
Dammit. She was a Domme. He’d considered the possibility with her clothing and attitude, but that move just seemed to seal the deal. She had to be with that kind of a move, but damned if he could get that through to his cock, which was still trying to stand at attention in his pants.
With her jacket undone, he could see the swells of her breasts over the top of her low-cut white tank top, with a low-cut black bra clearly visible through the thin material. If his cock hadn’t been rock hard before, it was trying to burst out of his jeans now.
How could he have ever thought she was a man when she walked in? She was wonderfully, gloriously female, and his dick was ready to explode. He swallowed hard. She yawned and he saw the tiredness in her face, and maybe a little sadness that he had a sudden urge to kiss away, but then all thought fled again as she stretched and the tank pulled tight over her full tits, which threatened to escape confinement. He knew he was staring, but he couldn’t seem to force his eyes back to her face. They were perfect, and he yearned to see them naked, maybe with their nipples clamped or maybe her entire breasts bound for his pleasure.
He took a deep breath and looked up. The stranger was clearly amused as she raised her bottle to her lips and took a healthy swallow. A drop of condensation ran down the bottle and then her neck, and Micah had an almost overwhelming urge to lean over and lick it from her skin. He glanced briefly over to Dace and saw he was similarly affected. Their eyes met and locked. Then Dace took a swallow of his beer just as the woman set down her own bottle, licked her lips, and sighed with satisfaction.
Suddenly, Dace started choking, but Micah was too stunned by the woman in front of him to move, and so it was the stranger who leaned over and slapped Dace hard on the back a couple of times before heading back to Trace and getting a bottle of water.
Why didn’t I think of that? he thought sourly as Dace winked at him while they waited for her return.
“Feeling better?” she asked solicitously then uncapped the bottle. Her voice was low and sexy and caused ripples up and down his spine. She handed the bottle to Dace and then rubbed his back some more. “Sip the water slowly,” she counseled as she continued rubbing his back soothingly. Lucky bastard.
He was definitely a bastard, thought Micah. Dace was a Dom, same as Micah. What was with that meek yes, ma’am? Thank you, that’s what he should have said. Even thank you, miss would have been okay, but yes, ma’am? Asshole. They might be best friends, but two could play at that game.
Micah half stood and held his hand out to the newcomer. “I’m Micah Durrance and I own the Whips and Spurs. If I can do anything for you, anything at all, please let me know.”
She put her hand in his, with an amused glance at a clearly annoyed Dace. “I’m Nicola.”
Her hand was small and smooth and soft, and he could feel the light pulse fluttering in her wrist as he stroked it with his thumb. It seemed to jump, and he hoped that he was having an effect on her, but then he saw Dace move.
“Dace Lowe.” Dace stood and held out his hand.
Micah glared at his friend for interrupting and reluctantly released her hand so she could shake Dace’s. “Sheriff Dace Lowe. Pleased to meet you, Nicola.”
“Howdy, Sheriff. I’ve never met a real sheriff before.” She put on a clearly fake Western accent, and it was sweet and charming. She looked at Dace appraisingly and then grinned. “Want to arrest me? I’m been a bad girl!” She pouted and held out her wrists as if waiting for a set of cuffs or restraints to be placed over them.
Micah had an overwhelming urge to drag her into the back into the jail room and cuff her to the bench before he fucked her brains out. He had to consciously get his breathing under control to stop from hyperventilating at the thought.
“Bad girls do need to be punished,” Dace teased back. “Maybe I should take you back to the station and give you a thorough spanking before I lock you up.”
Micah’s jaw dropped.
She turned and raised one booted foot and balanced it on the chair she’d been sitting on. She undid the laces and pulled it and her sock off. Then she did the other one.
Taking a deep breath, she reached inside her tank top and unfastened her bra. A few contortions later, and she pulled out her black bra and dropped it on Micah’s desk. The tank was pretty low-cut and almost exposed her nipples, which she realized were hard, jutting against the thin material of her tank. Then she reached down and unfastened her leather pants. This was going to be harder. The pants were tight. It took some wriggling, but they finally got past her hips. She pushed them down and off.
Their responses were gratifying if embarrassing. Both were obviously turned on and desperately trying not to show it. The big bad Doms were shy? Or maybe they were just gentlemen at heart and were worried their arousal would make her feel uncomfortable. It actually made her feel flattered. It had been a while since she’d been the object of so much masculine attention from hot guys that she was attracted to, even if she had to pretend it was just a job.
Gaining confidence and wanting to take control back, if only temporarily since she was supposed to play at being their submissive, she deliberately turned her back to them, knowing the tank only came down halfway over her ass. She folded her pants carefully and placed them on the chair before turning back to the men.
“I, er, I’ll be right back.” Dace rushed out the door.
“I’ll, um…I’m just going to make sure he’s okay. Make yourself at home. Check out the video monitoring system.” He pushed a keyboard and remote control toward her, and then Micah was gone, too.
Okay, that wasn’t the response she was expecting. She might not be a centerfold, but men usually didn’t run away when she took her clothes off.
Mentally shrugging, she moved over to Micah’s chair, sat down, and clicked a key. The monitors all came alive. It only took a few minutes to figure out the system. There were dozens of camera feeds, but she could bring up four at a time.
She clicked around until she found a couple, a man and a woman, in a room that looked like a doctor’s office, but what the Dom was doing to the woman who was strapped down to the exam table with her legs spread wide in stirrups wasn’t covered by the Hippocratic Oath. She watched as he snapped on a pair of rubber gloves and examined the woman, intimately, paying special attention to her clit until she was squirming against the restraints.
She moved on to a trio, two men who appeared to be having sex with a single woman whose face showed a level of bliss that made Nicola jealous.
And then there was the big man with the naked woman across his lap. He was spanking her and she writhed against his hold, but he was immovable and she was hampered by the fact that her hands were tied behind her back. Nick was shocked to realize that her thong was getting damp. Tentatively she slid her left hand down and under the elastic band to touch her swollen clit while her right stayed on the remote.
Quickly, she clicked again, but she didn’t remove her hand. Now the scene was of an open lounge, and there were several men sitting on couches having a drink. It could have been any bar in any city, except for the fact that there was a single woman kneeling between two of the men. She was naked except for her collar and cuffs, and the man on her right held a leash.
A leash? She looked again. Yes, the man held the woman’s leash and ruffled her hair with his hand as she leaned against his knee while he talked with the other men. On the other couch, there were also two men. There was a woman stretched out across both of their laps, her hands bound behind her. One man played with her nipples and the other had his hand buried between her legs. She was blindfolded and writhing against their touch, but as far as Nick could tell, the writhing was in ecstasy. She wasn’t trying to get away. In fact, she seemed to be on the verge of coming.
All of the scenes seemed too personal, and she felt like she shouldn’t be spying. She wanted to turn off the video feed but couldn’t make herself do it, just like she couldn’t stop touching herself. She wanted to come. She needed to come.
“They all know they are being watched, you know.”