Sanctuary (3 page)

God, if only it could be him.

She spread her thighs and pushed two fingers inside her aching pussy. She was soaked, needing more. She couldn't wait one more minute.

She crossed the hall to her bedroom and climbed into her antique four-poster bed, settled back on the pile of pillows. She turned to pull her pink gel vibrator from her toy drawer and switched it on, laid back and spread her thighs. Closing her eyes, she thought of
him
while the vibrator buzzed at the entrance to her sex. As she teased herself, barely allowing the tip to touch her hard clitoris.

“Oh…” she moaned. “Come on, Shaye.”

She forced her legs apart as wide as they could go and shoved the big vibe into her soaking wet pussy.

“Ah!”

She was clenching around it immediately, her hips bucking, fucking herself with the big toy. And in moments she was coming, crying out as pleasure roared through her.

“God, Shaye!”

Later, after she'd used the vibrator yet again, while her body lay languid and humming and the San Francisco fog drifted by her window, she drifted toward sleep, his face still filling her mind.

Her last thought before her eyes fluttered closed was that she should never see him again. He was too tempting. Too dangerous. She had a sense that this man could open her up in ways she wasn't prepared for. She wouldn't see him, wouldn't go back there again. Wouldn't call the number on the card.

Or would she?

Chapter Two

Would she call him? Shaye didn't know. All he knew was this incredible, driving need to see her again. To play her. To
have
her. It was almost three in the morning. He'd left the club an hour ago. He hadn't stopped thinking of Devin for one moment. Not that it was anything more than lust—raging lust, but nothing beyond that. He didn't do more than that. Ever. He could hear his father's words in his head playing like some mantra on repeat.
“This is what happens when you need someone. You lose control of your life.”

Control had always been his key. As much of a dick as his father was, he'd been right about that. Anyway, he'd just met the girl.

Devin.

Beautiful girl.

He'd had something to eat, turning all the lights on in the kitchen, thinking somehow that the harsh lights would help him to forget her face, those lush lips that begged to be kissed. He did love a beautiful girl begging. It was more than that with her. But what?

He groaned as his mind's eye narrowed in on her plush lips, imagining pushing his hard cock into her mouth as he fisted her hair.

“Jesus Christ,” he muttered, tearing his shirt over his head, even the cotton fabric brushing his hard nipples almost too much to take.

Already barefoot, it was easy enough to kick his way out of his jeans before stepping into the shower. He let the water run hot—a cold shower wasn't going to help. Not tonight.

He wanted her in the Ring, but with that image in mind he let his fantasy run free, past the rules of the club and into much more decadent territory.

He'd cut her clothes from her body, watching her breath catch as he slid the scissors between fabric and skin. The shredded cloth would fall away, leaving her naked, her breasts begging to be touched. He would lean in and suck hard on her nipples until they were hard points of flesh against his tongue.

He lingered on that thought, soaping his rigid cock and beginning a slow stroke.

She would arch into him, but he would pull away, teasing her. Teasing himself. Moving around behind her he'd slide one hand over her cheek, then grip her jaw just tightly enough for her to feel his command. He would slip the other hand down between her parted thighs as he teased her hard clit, the flesh swelling under his touch.

“Fuck,” he murmured into the steam as he gripped the base of his cock and squeezed hard before arching his hips into his fist, stroking, stroking.

He was about to go off like a fucking rocket already.

Oh yeah. Fucking Devin with his fingers, biting and sucking on the back of her pretty neck. Harder and harder. Fucking. Devin. Fucking Devin.

“Ah, Jesus!”

He came hard, spurting into his hand, his body jerking. And before it was over he knew as soon as he recovered he'd need to do it again. And again and again until he was too damn worn out to do anything but sleep.

And dream of her.

She dreamed of a dark, womblike place where water fell in warm cascades all around her, slick on her skin, like tiny fingers touching her, teasing her. A commanding voice in her ear whispered, “Promise me.”

She moved her legs apart to allow the teasing, sensual water to touch her there. It flowed in a silky stream between her thighs. And out of the darkness came a figure.

Shaye.

He was naked, she knew, even though she couldn't quite make out the details of his body in the dark. She waited for him, holding perfectly still. She knew it was what he wanted—for her to remain as still as possible, to await his command. To await his pleasure.

To await her own.

Her sex pulsed with anticipation.

The phone rang.

She came out of sleep fast. Following the insistent ring, she crawled out of bed and found her cell phone where she'd left it on the dresser the night before.

“Hello?”

“Are you still sleeping? Devin, it's almost ten.”

“Kimmie?” She found her robe on a chair and slipped into it.

“Yeah, who else? What happened to you last night?” Kimmie asked.

“Nothing. I just… You wandered off and I couldn't find you.”

“I told you I was going to get a drink at the bar downstairs. Then I met this guy and we danced for a while. When I went back upstairs, you were gone.”

“Sorry, I, um…” She shoved her hair out of her face, tried to focus on the conversation.

“How much did you drink last night, Devin?”

“What? Nothing. I just slept really hard, I guess. I had this dream…” She searched for her fuzzy pink slippers, found them under the bed, slid her feet into them.

“You are really out of it. So what did you think of the Ring?”

“It was…interesting.”

“Interesting? I couldn't have dragged you away to save your life. You were totally fascinated,” Kimmie insisted.

“Okay, so I was fascinated.”

“Don't be so defensive, Dev. I'm the one who took you there. I'm the last person to judge you for liking it.”

“I know. I'm just kind of having a hard time with how much I liked it. And
him
.” She groaned.

“Him? Him who?”

“There was this guy there. He was gorgeous. No, it was more than that. Didn't you see him?”

“The guy with the goatee? Yeah, sure. They're all hot there—all the people who work in the Ring. They only hire beautiful people.”

“He was different.” She paused. “I talked to him, Kimmie.”

“Did you?”

“He gave me his card. Asked me to come back.”

“Are you going to?”

“What? No. I don't know.” She pushed her hair from her face, began to pace. “I don't think it's my thing, Kimmie. It's too much for me.”

It felt like a lie. She knew it even as the words slipped out of her mouth.

“Well, if you want me to go with you, let me know.”

She sat on the edge of the bed, her gaze on her slippered feet. “Kimmie? Have you ever…you know…been in the Ring? Done those things? I know you've gone to watch before.”

“I've been there a few times—I've been to some other clubs too—but I've never been in the Ring. I've thought about it. A lot, to be honest. But I really don't like the idea of being in public like that. But privately? Yes, I've done a few things.”

“Like what?”

“I've been tied up, been spanked a few times. Nothing like what goes on there. It's fun, but I don't take it all that seriously. Or maybe I've never been with a guy who takes it seriously enough. I don't know.” She paused. “It really got to you last night, didn't it?”

“Yes, I guess it did. And
he
really did, this guy. Shaye. The whole experience has me imagining things I've never thought of before in any terms other than fantasy. Submitting to a man…”

But that wasn't the truth, was it? She remembered suddenly the story-like fantasies she'd had even as a little girl, games she played in her head while she was in the bath. The most common theme was that she'd been captured by pirates, bound in rope, naked and helpless, then brought to the captain's quarters.

Helpless
. That had been the key to the whole thing, hadn't it? But she'd never imagined what happened once she was in the captain's quarters, bound and powerless with a pirate king. Her young mind hadn't been able to comprehend anything more. But she certainly could now.

Shaye would make an excellent pirate.

Her body began to heat up again, her thighs trembling with tension.

This was ridiculous. She had to pull herself together.

“Still there, Dev?”

“What? Yes. Sorry. I was just thinking about everything, about last night. I don't think I'll go back. It just doesn't feel right.”

But why was she fighting it? Every cell in her body screamed for her to go to him. She was lying to Kimmie. Lying to herself.

“Kimmie, you know my history, what I went through with my mom. Why I could never let a man dominate me, even if it was just play. Just sex.”

Excuses.

“I know, and I get it, Dev. You're the only one who can decide what's right for you. But if you ever choose to let all that old stuff go—and yes, I think at some point you should, and I'm done being nosey now—then you know where to go. And that guy, Shaye, is
hot
. Smokin'.”

“Yeah, he is,” she agreed. His crooked, devastating grin and tight six-pack abs flashed through her mind.

“I'd better get back to work. Are you all right?”

“I'm fine. A little distracted.”

“Okay. I'll talk to you later then?”

“Yes. Sure. Thanks, Kimmie.”

“Anytime, hon.”

She ended the call and let out a long breath. She hadn't wanted to admit to Kimmie how Shaye had affected her, but she was her best friend—they talked about everything. And there was no hiding the effect he had on her.

Shaye.

Just running his name through her mind had her body humming to life again, hot and needy, her sex drive working at warp speed. She didn't like the loss of control over her own body, her own thoughts. Yet at the same time something in the back of her mind whispered for her to just let go for once.

Letting go was not her forte. She was someone who ran a perfectly ordered life, with everything in its place. A life in stark contrast to the one she had growing up. All she'd known was a life of chaos until she was old enough to take on all of the responsibilities that should have been her mother's. A life that had created in her a driving need to maintain control, to fight against the chaos.

It was one of the reasons she loved her work as a web designer—she had total control over what happened on the page. She loved the clearly defined language of the computer, the software she used to create her designs. She knew if she clicked on something, wrote the correct sequence of code, she could control the outcome every time. She knew what to expect, everything nice and neat. This obsession was messy. Complicated. And giving in to it would mean a very definite loss of control.

She wasn't about to hand that over to anyone. Not even the beautiful and mysterious Shaye.

Her body surged with lust once more.

Damn it.

How was she going to force herself to stay away from him? She hated that she didn't have a concrete answer, couldn't assure herself of the outcome.

Mysterious. A little frightening. And so incredibly tempting she could barely stand it. Her mind whirled with the possibilities.

She'd just met the man.
Once.
Why couldn't she stop thinking about him? About the lovely, wicked things he wanted to do to her? But how could she ever let him? This was crazy. This was not who she was. She'd never been more confused in her life.

Shaye Vincent, in their one brief meeting, had knocked her whole world off its axis. And right now she wasn't sure how she'd ever regain her balance.

Nine o'clock on Friday night and she was going to see him. She'd put it off, still arguing with herself tonight even after having done it all week. But finally, she'd taken a long, hot bath, dried herself and put on her makeup, going a little heavier on the eyeliner than usual. She'd found a short black wraparound skirt in her closet, a tight-fitting black mesh tank top and black stiletto-heeled boots she'd bought last winter but hardly worn because they were so high. She knew she was dressing for the event. And somehow dressing itself felt like some sort of ritual, as though she were preparing herself for
him
.

She zipped up the boots and stood, her heart hammering in her chest. She felt daring, a little wild. All she was doing was going to a club alone, something she'd never done before but plenty of other people did all the time. She took a deep breath, grabbed her leather jacket and was about to turn the knob on the front door when her cell phone rang.

“Hello?”

“Hey, it's me.”

“Hi, Kimmie.” She took a step back.

“What are you doing?” Kimmie asked. “There's this band playing at that new place on Fillmore. I just got us on the list. Wanna go?”

“I…um…not tonight. Thanks, though.”

“Are you okay, Dev? What's up?”

Devin bit her lip. “Nothing. I need to get caught up on some work, that's all.”

“Are you sure? You sound a little weird. Are you getting sick? I could stop by with some hot and sour soup on my way out.”

She cleared her throat, trying to clear away the heaviness of the lies on her tongue. “No, I'm fine. I'm just tired and want to stay home. Thanks, though.”

“Okay. I guess I'll ask Renee to come with me then.”

“I'll call you tomorrow.”

“Get some rest. You really don't sound so good.”

“I'm okay. But I will. Rest, I mean. Bye, Kimmie.”

“Bye.”

This was the first time she'd ever lied to her best friend about anything. It felt strange. But she also thought if she told anyone what she was doing she'd feel…she wasn't sure what. Maybe too foolish for chasing down a guy like this? Too unlike herself? Either way, she had to do this on her own.

She opened the door and went downstairs, walked a few short blocks to Lombard Street and hailed a cab, climbed in and slammed the door shut.

“Where are you headed?” the driver asked.

“Take me to Club X.”

The hard throb of music and the black-clad crowd of gyrating dancers was the same as the week before, but there was a new aura of excitement for her the moment she entered the club. She felt open, raw, as though anyone who looked at her knew why she was there. Yet at the same time she had a sense of being in her own head and utterly isolated from all of it: the lights, the music, the people.

She checked her coat, then made her way across the main dance floor through the heat of hundreds of bodies. She glanced at the bar, but she didn't want a drink. She needed to be clearheaded. Or as clear as she could be right now, with her lust-addled brain directing her.