Decklan Dare knows about the unexpected loss of loved ones and for this reason, he values control in all areas of his life.
Amanda Collins enjoys the freedom she finds in casual encounters without the emotional connection a relationship brings.
They meet and their physical attraction is mutual but both experience feelings that could run deeper – if they drop their guard and let each other in.
Decklan is first to trust, but when he discovers the secret Amanda’s been hiding, will he forgive?
Or will he rebuild every wall before she has a chance to explain?
At work and in his personal life, Decklan laid out the facts and the truth. He didn’t tolerate B.S. or lies. With this woman, who eyed him with an intense amount of distrust coupled with a healthy dose of desire, at least when she thought he wasn’t looking, he intended to do the same.
They sat together at the bar. He ordered two club sodas and let her drink in silence, waiting until she was definitely over whatever had happened with Mike. She was. The tense quiet between them now had everything to do with them. She didn’t trust him and his gut said the reasons went deep.
When she put down her drink and met his gaze, he decided it was time.
“I’m Decklan Dare.” He held out his hand.
“Amanda Collins.” She accepted the gesture, placing her smaller palm against his.
He immediately slid a thumb over the pulse point in her wrist, pleased with the rapid beat that told him she wasn’t immune. Just wary.
Wary he could deal with. Now that he was here, he was in for the night.
She attempted to tug her hand back but he held on tight, keeping his thumb pressed against her skin. It was his human lie detector and with this one, he felt sure he’d need it.
“Thank you again for stepping in. Mike was an ass.” She bit down on her plump lower lip.
Fuck, he’d like to do the same. He merely nodded in agreement. “I’ve seen Mike in action before. At least he’s gone for good now.” He smiled. “So tell me, Amanda, what were you looking for – before your night was so rudely interrupted?”
A rapid increase in her pulse beat in her wrist. He did his best not to grin wider. In the wake of her silence, he decided to cut her some slack. “How about I tell you what I’m looking for instead?”
“I’m listening.” She blinked at him, brown eyes wide.
He rested their joined hands on the bar. “I’ll start with what I don’t want. No protocol. No games Just hot sweaty sex,” he told her, his cock tenting his dark jeans at the notion of sliding into her tight, wet sheath.
Her eyes darkened with hunger at his honest words. Beneath his thumb, her pulse was racing with the same desire beating inside him. Good, he thought, he’d read her correctly. Earlier, he hadn’t seen a woman looking to submit, he’d seen a female in need.
And their needs were obviously in sync. “I want you, Amanda. I want to get you out of here and indulge in what I’ve jerked off to since laying eyes on you months ago. I want my fingers on that gorgeous ass, my cock, burying itself inside you –“
“You had me at I want you,” she said. “There was no need to ruin a good thing with lies.” She rose to her feet, ready to bolt.
“I don’t like being insulted,” he warned, stopping her with his words and stern tone. He narrowed his gaze. “You said you don’t know me, so how can you think I’m lying? “ He tightened his grip on her hand.
“If you wanted me that much, you would have approached me months ago and as for my ass, it’s too large and –“
“Enough.” He changed his mind. Submission was definitely on tonight’s agenda. “Are you with me tonight?” he asked her.
She swallowed hard, the delicate lines of her throat moved up and down as she pondered the question. Slowly she nodded.
He swiveled in his chair and pointed to his lap. “Then lay down. That’s ten for calling me a liar. Your ass is spectacular. Lush, round and made for my hand.” He patted his lap again.
No way could she miss the outline of his cock pressing hard and insistent against his pants.
“I don’t … we didn’t negotiate.”
“True.” He nodded, annoyed that she got inside his head so badly he forgot the important things. “Is spanking a hard limit?”
“No,” she whispered, her eyes dilating at the thought.
“No what?” he asked. “Protocol isn’t what I’m looking for.” He didn’t want to be called Sir or Master. He did want his name on her perfect lips. Eventually he’d get them on his cock.
“No, Decklan,” she said, her voice still soft.
“Exhibition?” he asked.
She glanced nervously around the room. Most people seemed involved in their own play. Max watched from across the bar.
Decklan didn’t give a shit.
“It has been. In the past.”
He heard a but in there and raised an eyebrow.
“But I’m willing to try. With you.”
Her breath hitched and satisfaction soared through him. “Are you wearing underwear?”
A tiny shake of her head. Blood rushed out of his, all of it headed south.
“Then lift that skirt and lay down or say Red and we can both head home. Separately.” Everything inside him stilled as he waited. The choice was hers. The power hers. If she walked away, he might not survive it. Another reason he hadn’t approached before now.
Eyes wide, her gaze never leaving his, she faced him. Her cheeks flushed a sexy shade of pink. And ever so slowly, she raised her skirt, walked the few steps closer, and thank God, lowered herself over his lap. She shifted, getting comfortable, wriggling against his rock hard erection, and he groaned aloud.
He glanced down and faced every fantasy he had and then some. Her ass was round and pale, two beautiful globes waiting for his hand. He’d trained at this club, enjoyed it for a time, but had been tempted to leave it for awhile now.
He was nowhere near ready to walk away. He smoothed his hand over one cheek, then the other, her skin butter soft and beckoning. She stiffened at first, but as he caressed her with one hand, she relaxed beneath his touch and his cock perked up at her easy submission.
“Do you know why you’re in this position?” he asked, squeezing her cheek to make sure she was paying attention.
“I said that you lied.”
He had to lean closer to hear her. “Your ass is gorgeous,” he said, emphasizing his words with his first smack.
“Ouch!” She wriggled beneath him.
“Quiet.” He followed the first with two more, one on the other cheek, the third closer to her thigh. The sound and the crack of his hand blended together for him, giving him a rush he hadn’t experienced in awhile. “I know you don’t know me, but you will. I don’t lie,” he told her, connecting with her flesh. Four. Her ass pinkened beautifully, his marks glowing on her skin.
She no longer made a sound, but her hands clasped his calves through the denim of his jeans and a moan echoed up towards him. “Your sweet ass is the first thing I noticed about you.” Five. His hand stung and he came down on her once more. This time she arched into his hand and satisfaction filled him. Six was slightly harder, and he finished up with seven, eight, nine and ten.
Small whimpers escaped her lips, reaching his ears. This was what he hadn’t seen in her before. The total surrender to her feelings. His gut told him there’d be tears in those eyes, not as much from the pain because he’d gone easy, but from her giving in. She’d earned the release she needed and he was all too happy to give it to her, despite the fact that he knew once he slid his fingers into her wet heat, he wouldn’t be walking away any time soon.
Bestselling Author Carly Phillips N.Y. Times and USA Today
Bestselling Author Carly Phillips has written over 40 sexy contemporary romance
novels that today’s readers identify with and enjoy. After a successful 15 year
career with various New York publishing houses, Carly is making the leap to
Indie author, with the goal of giving her readers more books at a faster pace
at a better price. Her Serendipity books will still finish up in
January/February 2014 via Berkley as planned. Carly lives in Purchase, NY with
her family, two nearly adult daughters and two crazy dogs who star on her
Facebook Fan Page and website. She’s a writer, a knitter of sorts, a wife, and
a mom. In addition, she’s a Twitter and Internet junkie and is always around to
interact with her readers.
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