16

SLADE

One minute, I was naked in bed, dreaming about Margo. The next minute, she was storming into my place, looking pissed as hell. Judging by the steam coming from her ears, the dream version of her was in a better mood.

God, the things the dream version of her had done.

I ran my fingers through my hair as I looked down at her. “What’s going on?”

“You’re a liar,” she said, and she raised her arm, her hand flying toward my face.

I was so shocked that I barely caught her wrist in time. That seemed to infuriate her more. “I know who you are,” she said.

“That’s good. I’d hate to think you went around trying to smack perfect strangers.” The way she glowered at me was kind of hot. Hot, but irritating. “I think I need coffee for this conversation. Did you bring any?”

Margo’s eyes never left mine as she made a pretense of patting her pockets. “Sorry, I didn’t bring any. Guess I was distracted by finding out that you and your friends are mafia enforcers.”

I sighed. “Your friend, the singer, has a big mouth.” Then I chuckled a little. Singers were probably supposed to have big mouths.

“This isn’t funny.”

God, she was a little spitfire. And utterly pissed off. “Why are you taking shots at me? Were Rock’s and Jumaine’s apartments too far away?”

“Because you’re the one who told Zoey that you knew you were bad for me. Yet you invited yourself up to my place the other night.”

It took me a minute to get the chronology straight. “That was before I told her that.”

Margo scoffed. “Oh, so you’re saying that when you came up to my place, you’d temporarily forgotten your job? Or who your boss is? You’re saying you thought at that time that you were good for me?”

“No,” I admitted. “But I was a gentleman, at least.” I leaned against the edge of my couch, wishing again for coffee. Margo had told me she’d wanted to be a lawyer, and for the first time, I could see it. She might look pretty and delicate, but there was steel and resolve underneath that.

“A gentleman? You had your hands all over me.”

“All over your back, shoulders, and head,” I elaborated. “That hardly makes me pervert of the year.”

Margo pursed her lips, her head cocked to the side like she was preparing her next argument. “You made me moan.”

“That sounds like your problem.”

Her lip rose and she all but growled at me. I felt like a pit bull being attacked by a chihuahua.

Time to go on the offensive. “I was good that night—I didn’t have to be, you know.”

“What would you have done, forced me?” Her eyes shot daggers at me.

“No,” I said simply, refusing to take her bait. “But I could’ve seduced you.”

She scoffed. “You could have tried.”

“Yep.” I nodded. “And I would’ve succeeded.”

Margo folded her arms across her chest. “I’m not that easy.”

I got up, circling her. She didn’t flinch, not even when I stopped directly behind her, whispering in her ear. “I could’ve gotten you to seduce me.”

“Not likely.” Her voice sounded firm, but I sensed a slight tremor.

My hands landed on her shoulders, kneading gently, a little reminder of how much she’d liked my touch before.

Her muscles were tense under my fingers—at first. Gradually, some of the stiffness left her shoulders, though I could tell she was fighting it.

Then I slid my fingers into her silky hair. Her quick intake of breath might’ve been hiding a soft moan, and it made my cock stir. “Lean your head back,” I whispered.

As expected, my words made her hold her head more rigidly upright. But as I massaged her scalp and occasionally tugged on those soft strands, she grew more relaxed.

Eventually, she did let her head loll backwards. Her hair on my bare chest felt amazing. When I looked down, I could see her face now. Her eyes were closed, and she was biting her lip.

I smoothed her hair away from her ear on one side. Cupping the back of her head with one hand, I supported her while I dipped my head. She moaned softly when I bit her earlobe. “Still think I couldn’t get you to seduce me?”

That got her riled up again. She jumped away from me, whirling around. “You’re a bastard, Slade.”

“Never claimed I wasn’t.”

“And in the fucking mob.”

I didn’t deny that either.

“And a liar,” she concluded.

That was where we differed. “No, I’m not.”

Her eyes flashed. “You told Zoey you’d stay away from me.”

“I did. You’re the one who showed up on my doorstep today, not the other way around. Are you here to arrest me?”

“I would if I could,” she said defiantly as I took a step closer.

“Do you really think that someone like me should be locked up?” I reached out and encircled her right wrist with my fingers.

“Y-yes.” Her voice faltered as I folded her hand behind her back, my fingers still around her wrist.

“Toss me in jail and throw away the key?”

As she nodded, I caught her other wrist and pinned it behind her back, too. The position made her chest stick out—a fact that I wasn’t going to complain about.

I moved forward, forcing her to back up. She looked up at me when she felt the back of the couch behind her.

“So you’re against crime, you must be pro-punishment, correct?”

“Yes,” she whispered, standing her ground. “In most cases.”

“How about now?” I let go of her wrists, spinning her around so that she was facing the back of the sofa. Then I captured her wrists again before she could wiggle away.

“I haven’t committed any crime,” she said, her breath unsteady.

“I disagree, counselor.” I pressed my body against hers, grinding my erection into her ass. “You barged into my place. Called me a liar. Tried to assault me.”

“No, I didn’t—”

“And you’re lying right now.” I squeezed her wrist tighter. “I think you’ve earned yourself some punishment.”

“No, I… I…” Her protest dissolved into a moan as I ground against her once again. Holding her wrists with one hand, I placed the other on her upper back, bending her forward.

To my surprise, she moved with me, not struggling.

Holy shit. Leaning over the back of the sofa made her rise to her toes, with her ass up in the air. It was a position with a lot of potential. A hell of a lot.

Lightly, I glided my hand over her ass. Just like when I’d rubbed her shoulders, she stiffed at first. But as I kneaded her soft backside her tension seemed to melt away. After a minute or two, she was practically purring like a contented cat.

I had her exactly where I wanted her, but it wasn’t enough. I wanted her to want me.

“Crime and punishment, counselor,” I whispered. “Your crime was accusing me of being a liar. Your punishment is a dozen smacks on that sweet ass.”

“No,” she said, but it sounded more like a moan than a protest.

I squeezed her juicy cheek. “Unless you appeal the sentence, that is.”

I paused, my hand digging into her sweet flesh.

She didn’t say anything.

“I guess the prosecution rests.” I wasn’t sure if that was something they said in courtrooms, but at this point, I didn’t fucking care. I didn’t think Margo did, either.

With my free hand, I tugged up her skirt, each inch revealing more of her creamy thighs. When I saw the first glimpse of her silky blue panties, I grinned. There was a wet spot.

Margo gasped, aware of the eyeful I was getting. She squirmed for a second but likely realized that made the view even more enticing, so she stopped.

“Good girl,” I soothed. “Take your punishment like a good girl.”

I had to use both hands to get her skirt up over her hips. While I did that, her wrists stayed clasped behind her back, I noted with satisfaction.

I trailed my fingers along the edge of her panties, and she shivered. Fuck, she was gorgeous. Her skin was soft and flawless. Well, at least until it had my handprint on it.

My thumbs dipped under her waistband, and I eased her panties down, her perfect ass revealed before me.

Holy fucking shit. Where had this goddess been all my life?

I couldn’t help squeezing her cheeks with both hands. I’d always considered myself more of a breast man than an ass man, but Margo was making me change my mind.

But… I had a job to do. There was a prisoner who needed to be punished, and I suspected she’d be pretty damn disappointed if I didn’t do my duty.

Moving to the side, I took her wrists in my hand again, pulling my other one back. “Are you ready?” I asked.

“Yes,” she answered quietly.

I took one last second to savor the sight of her unblemished skin and then brought my hand down. She yelped and my cock twitched in my pants. The feeling of my palm connecting with her sweet ass was almost indescribable. “That’s one,” I breathed.

By four, she was writhing on the couch, her reddened cheeks bouncing up and down.

By six, there was a trail of moisture along the inside of her thighs.

By eight, she was panting and moaning.

By twelve, she seemed nearly about to come. I was sure close.

“Good girl,” I whispered, running my fingers lightly over her red skin. “Punishment’s over, sweetheart.”

She didn’t move, and I couldn’t stop myself. I knelt down, pressing my lips against her heated cheeks. She moaned as I nibbled and licked, and I grinned when her thighs inched apart.

Placing my hand on either one, I spread them further, revealing her pretty pussy. Her lips were red, and plump, and from the way she was squirming, I knew she was dying to be touched there.

Who was I to disappoint her? I pushed her legs apart even more, and I felt her brace her hands against the cushions of the sofa. I pushed my nose against her slit, breathing in deeply.

She was utter perfection and I wanted to feel her come on my face.

My tongue dipped out, lapping at the moisture as I gripped her thighs harder, holding her still. After several long licks the length of her slit, I let my tongue dip into her folds, tasting more of her arousal.

I curled my fingers around her ass cheeks spreading her open to get better access, and she groaned in anticipation.

When I brushed my tongue past her pleasure center, she cried out, the heaving of her chest making the whole sofa shake. “Oh god,” she moaned.

That’s what I wanted… to make her moan and never let her stop. I pressed my tongue against her opening, swirling it around. She froze in anticipation with my tongue poised to plunge in.

Except it didn’t. Instead, I returned to her clit and slid two fingers into her tight channel. She gasped as I pumped them in and out, working her into a frenzy. There was no going back now—I was determined to push her to the brink and then right over it.

“Oh god,” she panted as I pumped my fingers in and out of her. I worked her clit with my tongue, no more hesitant little licks. I sucked on it. I nibbled on it. I owned it, as I claimed her pussy with my fingers.

“God, please,” she cried out as her legs trembled on either side of my head. “Please.”

I didn’t know what the fuck she was begging for, but I was determined to give it to her anyway. I pushed my fingers deep inside her and spread her at the same time I sucked hard on her clit. She screamed and thrashed around on the couch, her legs kicking out.

But she wasn’t going anywhere—not until I milked her orgasm for everything it was worth.

Her throaty little cries filled the room as her limbs flailed around. And still I didn’t let up. I flicked my tongue over her lips. I filled her pussy with my fingers again and again and again. At last, her legs stilled as her body went limp. Were it not for the harshness of her breathing, I might’ve thought she’d passed out.

My tongue stilled and I eased my fingers out of her soaked channel. I stood up, very aware of my throbbing erection, but this wasn’t about me. It was about establishing some trust with her again.

I pulled her panties up and worked her skirt back into place, but she still didn’t move. When I gathered her up, she was as limp as a ragdoll. Her eyes were glazed, and her breathing was still a little faster than usual.

Lifting her to my chest, I walked around the sofa, sitting down where her head had been seconds ago. She rested her head against my chest, and I cradled her in my arms for a very long time.

One thing was for certain. Touching her for real was even better than it had been in my dreams.