6

It was amazing how long two days could drag, Rachel thought as she woke up on Sunday morning.

She had not been sleeping well. Between the nightmares of her past and dreams revolving around a man she had begrudgingly decided she needed to see again, she was surprised she hadn’t fallen asleep at work on Saturday night.

Pushing back the covers, she swung her feet over the edge of the bed and stretched as she ran a hand through her hair, pulling it off her face. Quickly, she secured it with a hair tie before she got up and made her way to her closet.

Once she was dressed in her baggy red gym shorts and tight black sports bra, she sat back on the bed to lace up her shoes, and then she grabbed her black hoodie and put it on. Moving in front of the full-length mirror, Rachel looked up and down at her reflection as she picked up the tape and spread her fingers. She wrapped it first around her wrist and then her knuckles. After her hand was bound the way she had been taught, she lifted the dangling tape to her mouth, used her teeth to cut the end, and secured it in place before she repeated the process on the other hand. Flexing her fingers, she jabbed her fists out in front of her a couple times and smiled. Oh yeah, it’s time to go and kick some ass.

With her boxing gloves shoved in her gym bag, she opened the fridge, grabbed a protein shake for breakfast, and ran past the side table on her way out the door. She never missed an opportunity to beat up the bag.

* * *

A couple of hours later, Rachel was stepping out of her class when she spotted Shelly and Lena getting off the treadmills. Waving at them, she made sure she plastered on a wide smile as she stopped in front of the girls.

“Well, well, if it isn’t the late-night streetwalker,” Lena quipped as she swung a small towel over her shoulder.

Rachel gave Lena a shocked look and tried to hide her grin. “Honestly, Lena, how am I ever going to have a successful sex life if I have to check in with Mason every night?”

Shelly let out a laugh and shook her head as they all moved toward the front doors. “Well, at least he doesn’t know about Whipped. If he ever found out, he’d never back off.”

Rachel looked over at the perfectly put-together blonde with the shit-eating grin.

How did I end up being so close to these two women? They were the furthest things from herself that she could have found.

“I’ll have you know that I haven’t been there for quite a while.”

“Oh, and why’s that?” Lena uncapped the water bottle she was holding and took a gulp.

“Did a certain someone run you off your stomping grounds?” Shelly teased.

Resisting the urge to punch her in the arm, Rachel zipped her jacket as she glared at Shelly. “Can it, Georgia. Cole Madison did not run me from anywhere. I just haven’t been in the mood, and I haven’t been sleeping well lately.”

“Why not?” Lena asked, concern showing in her green eyes.

Rachel turned to Lena and thought about how close they had become, as though she were her own sister. “I keep having dreams. Well, they’re nightmares actually, but that doesn’t matter. That’s all they are.” Slinging her gym bag over her arm, Rachel turned to Shelly. “Are we still going to your place for lunch?”

Shelly nodded and pulled her sweater over her head. “Yeah, Josh said to remind you to pick up the beer.”

Rachel rolled her eyes as they pushed open the doors and walked out into the cool air. “Of course he did. Those two never could watch Sunday football without beer.”

Rubbing her arms, Rachel promised to be there at two. She waved once and made a dash down the street. Luckily for her, even if the rent was too high, her place was only a hop, skip, and jump away from the gym they all worked out at.

* * *

It’s official. I hate football, Rachel thought as she sat on the couch. She started to zone out while Josh and Mason yelled at the TV, and Lena and Shelly talked about work. As much as she hated to admit it, she had started to feel like the fifth wheel lately.

Who would have ever thought these two would end up so committed? Certainly, not me, she thought incredulously.

It wasn’t as though she begrudged anyone a happy ending, but the way both Mason and Josh had become so domestic almost mystified her. All they needed were a pair of rug rats to complete the picture of domestic bliss.

Oh, who am I to be sitting here, envying them their happiness? They all deserved it. It wasn’t their fault she was feeling the way she was and at the rate she was going maybe she could be the old single aunt with the bright hair.

Hell, I knew I should’ve stayed home and dyed my hair today, I’m even annoying myself.

Standing, Rachel excused herself and made her way down the hall to the bathroom. As she passed a room that Shelly must have converted into what now looked like an office and gym, Rachel smiled and moved across the space to the punching bag hanging from the ceiling.

This is what I need installed in my place. The only problem was that she didn’t own her place. She rented, so bolts in her ceiling beams were not allowed.

Turning to leave for the bathroom, she walked past the old desk in the corner and happened to glance down. There, sitting on the desk, was an official-looking piece of paper that had Mitchell & Madison, Attorneys at Law written across the top.

Cole.

Rachel felt her pulse accelerate as if he were in the room with her. Gingerly, she let her fingers creep onto the paper as she pulled it closer to the edge of the desk. Ignoring the contents beneath the header, she peered at the writing across the top, focusing on the address and phone number printed boldly under the firm’s name.

Before she could even think about it, she took out her phone and snapped a picture of the letterhead. She dashed out of the office, ran straight into the bathroom, and locked the door behind her. Moving to the edge of the tub, she sat and stared at the number.

It’s Sunday. He wouldn’t be there today. Would he? What if he is?

Quickly, she dialed the number before she could change her mind. After three rings, just as she suspected, a recorded message came over the line.

“Hello. You have reached the law office of Mitchell & Madison, and we are currently closed. If this is an emergency, you can reach Logan Mitchell at 312-555-1467 or Cole Madison at 312-555-7173. Thank you, and have a good day.”

Rachel hung up and stared at the phone. She thought about what she was going to do for less than two seconds before she hit redial. She quickly typed the digits following Cole’s name into her contacts. After she ended the call this time, she stared at his number like it would bite her.

Should I or shouldn’t I?

Oh, what the hell.

* * *

Cole was halfway home from Lake Forest when his phone began ringing, the sounds coming through his car speakers. Glancing at the display, he didn’t recognize the 773 area code number offhand. Pressing the button on his steering wheel, he was about to answer as a car cut in front of him.

“Jesus!” he cursed as he slammed on the brakes.

He noticed there was silence in the vehicle, and he realized no one had said anything on the other end of the line. “I’m sorry. Hello?”

More silence. “Hello?” he greeted again.

That was when the call ended.

He stopped at a red light and decided to call the number. With the unprofessional way he had answered, maybe the caller hadn’t realized it was him. As the call connected, he waited for a greeting. When nothing came, he decided to speak up. “Hello, this is Cole Madison. You just called me. I wasn’t sure if you had the wrong number.”

The light turned green, and he slowly pushed his foot on the accelerator, letting his Peugeot purr as it began to move.

“It’s Rachel.”

Immediately, his eyes glanced at the number on the display. Rachel? Well, now, isn’t this interesting?

“Hello, Rachel.” Tapping his finger on the steering wheel, Cole finally cleared the traffic and let the car power forward. “Rachel? Are you still there?”

“Yes, I’m here,” she replied, like she was annoyed that she was.

Cole couldn’t help the twitch of his lips at her tone. “Okay, I was just checking. This is a surprise. How did you get my number?”

“Do you really care?”

“No, not really. But you don’t seem to be saying much, so I thought I should fill the silence.”

“With questions you don’t really care about?”

“Well, it was that or ask you why you are calling, but I’ve figured out that answer already.”

He thought he heard her scoff softly before she spoke again.

“Oh? And why did I call you?”

Surprised at the feeling of satisfaction he felt at that moment, Cole replied, “Because you want to ask me something obviously.”

“Is that right?”

“Oh, come on, Rachel. I hardly think you hunted down my number to make sure I got home alright after Thursday night. It’s Sunday. That’s a wide window of time for something to have happened to me.”

“Okay, you’re right. I didn’t even think about you after you left Thursday night.”

“Liar.”

“Am not.”

Cole chuckled. “Did you just stick out your tongue as well? You’re lying, Rachel, but that’s okay. You’ll tell me the truth soon enough, and I’ll enjoy every minute of it.”

* * *

Oh hell. This man was god-knows-where, and he had her locked in a bathroom with her hand pressed between her denim-clad legs.

“And how do you plan to do that?” she whispered, surprising herself by how much she wanted to know.

“Rachel, I am not going to sit in my car and talk you into an orgasm. If you wait and show me that you have some kind of self-discipline, I’ll give you one in person.”

Immediately, she removed her hand. She clenched her teeth and shook her head. She hated that she was already doing what he asked.

“Aren’t you forgetting something?” she questioned as she clutched the phone tightly.

“No, I don’t think so. Are you?”

“No, I’m not, but you promised not to touch me.”

During the silence that followed, she felt her heart start to thump faster with each second she waited. One, two, three, and then his voice slid through the phone with a carnal promise.

“I don’t need to touch you to make you come, Rachel. You have hands, don’t you? Just wait, so I can watch. Tonight at ten. I’ll see you where we first met.”

She was about to reply, but as her mouth parted, the call ended.

Then, there was a loud banging on the bathroom door.

“Rachel! You okay in there?”

She jumped up as though her ass was on fire. Clutching the phone to her pounding chest, she moved to the door and unlocked it to find Shelly standing in front of her, her brow arched.

“Yep, I’m great. Look, I’ve got to run,” Rachel said quickly as she brushed past Shelly.

She briskly walked through the hallway into the living room. Rachel picked up her bag, slung it over her shoulder, and then waved to everyone before she headed to the front door.

“Rach, wait up!” Mason called to her as he got off the couch.

He followed her out the door to the elevator. Pressing the button, she looked up at her brother and tried for a genuine smile. It was best not to let him see the holy-shit feelings currently pumping throughout her entire body.

“Rach? What the hell?” Mason asked, stopping beside her. “You’ve been acting so strange lately. Are you sure you’re okay? I mean, I know things have been stressful, but…well, you’re acting a little more—”

“A little more what, Mase? Crazy? Harebrained?”

Shaking his head, he reached out and pulled her into a hug. “No, none of that. You just seem so different lately. I can’t put my finger on it. Even your usual crazy has been different.”

Leaning back, Rachel looked up at him and patted his chest. He smoothed a comforting hand down her hair and picked up the ends.

“What color is this going to be tomorrow?”

Without missing a beat, she told him, “Red streaks.”

When the elevator arrived, Mason reluctantly released her. “That’s a vivid choice.”

Stepping into the empty space, Rachel hit the lobby button and wiggled her brows. “I’m feeling particularly daring. See you tomorrow, Mase.”

“Night, Rach. Be careful.”

As the doors swooshed closed, she promised, “Always.”

* * *

It was nine fifty in the evening, and Rachel was exactly where she had been the first time she had met Cole at the bar in Whipped.

After rushing home from Josh and Shelly’s, she had spent the afternoon dyeing her hair. She loved the final look. Throughout her black hair, chunks of red were loud and flashy. It reflected the way she was feeling right now.

Rachel had pulled her hair back into a sleek tight ponytail. She had a deep crimson gloss on her lips with smoky dramatic eyes to match. All afternoon, she had debated on what she would wear to meet up with Cole again.

Do I want to make him work for it? Or do I want this to be an easy conquest?

In the end, she had decided on her black leather miniskirt with the silver zipper that ran from top to bottom in the center, and she had paired it with a red-and-black lace corset.

Sure, the outfit was minimal, but in the end, it gave off the right message. What exactly is that message? Well, that’s easy.

You think you can keep your hands off this, Cole? Prove it.

* * *

The minute he stepped into the club, Cole let his eyes move over the sea of people. It was amazing how not one of them even registered as being worth his time. Focused on one thing only, he searched for the reason he was here tonight.

He moved deeper into the main crush, and that was when he spotted her. He thanked every fucking entity he could think of because she was standing there, expecting him. The alternative would have been to just drag her off somewhere and introduce himself in the most intimate way imaginable. His tongue in her mouth came to mind.

That wasn’t necessary though because the woman standing at the bar with her elbows resting on it was staring directly at him. Like a magnet, her smoky eyes pulled him through the gyrating bodies until he reached the other side. He was now only steps away from her. Letting his eyes run down over her, Cole had to consciously hold himself back. The woman standing in front of him was just his type. And I plan to show her I am hers. The only thing that would have made the situation better was if everyone in the room would get the fuck out.

She was dressed in the same tiny black skirt she had been wearing the first time he had seen her and a corset that looked more like an expensive piece of lingerie.

She seems to like those.

That wasn’t what was killing him though. Around her neck was a pretty little piece of black satin. She had tied it into a small bow, making a choker out of it.

Fuck.

Clenching his hands by his sides, he finally brought his eyes back to her provocative stare. That was when she arched an insolent brow, like she wasn’t affected by him at all, and then she turned to face the bar, giving him a fantastic view of her backside. Her long legs were encased in sheer black stockings with a bold seam running up the center of each leg and ending somewhere beneath the skirt that was barely covering her ass.

Moving up beside her, Cole rested his arms on the surface of the bar and turned to face her. If she wants to play games, then let the games begin.

* * *

Rachel was trying to regain her composure.

Watching Cole stalk through the crowd toward her while she remained where she was, trying to appear cool, calm, and collected, had taken every ounce of her concentration and willpower.

All black. He was dressed in all black, and when contrasted with that sexy blond hair, the impact was so effective that Rachel had to remind herself not to beg him to take her.

Turning to face him, she saw he was resting against the bar, staring at her. As their eyes collided, she felt the thrill of anticipation zing up her spine. Without a word, he moved closer, trailing a finger along the cool surface. It drew her eyes, distracting her, just as he knew it would.

He moved to stand behind her, and without touching an inch of her skin, he spoke clearly and concisely into her ear. “Come.”

Rachel turned her head as he moved away from her. Narrowing her eyes, she watched him walk around the bar without a backward glance. Taking a deep breath, she tried to gather her wits as she followed. She rounded the end of the bar and saw the corridor that led down to the private rooms at Whipped. Although she’d known about the rooms, she had never been in them.

Do I really want this? Do I even know what the hell I’m doing? This all started from what? Fear and boredom. I’m not sure I’m ready for someone like him.

As she took two tentative steps into the dim hall, she heard The Pretty Reckless overhead singing “Make Me Wanna Die” from the speakers.

God the guitar at the beginning gets me every time. So damn sexy, add in my current ache and—Jesus where did the man go?

She gathered her courage and took several more steps. She was shocked when Cole appeared from a side alcove, making her take a step back. He didn’t touch her, but with each forward step he took, she took one step back until she was in an alcove opposite from the one he had been standing in.

Rachel’s back came up against the wall, and even though he still had not touched her, she recognized the stirrings of fear as Cole moved closer. He raised his arms and placed his hands by her head, his palms resting on the wall, as he locked eyes with her in an all-too-familiar stance.

Oh shit. He really isn’t going to touch me, Rachel thought as she looked him over.

Just as she was about to confirm it, she thought better and decided to just take. Keeping her eyes on his, she reached out and ran her index finger from his neck to the buttons of his black shirt. When she got to the center of his chest, she trailed her finger over to his nipple and the bar she now knew was under there, running her finger against the fabric and the hard piercing beneath.

That is such a turn-on, she thought, raising her eyes to his. As she continued to play with it, she asked, “You aren’t going to talk?”

“Oh, I plan to talk,” he acknowledged.

He shifted his feet as she reached up with her other hand and pressed her finger to his other nipple.

“You like them, don’t you? It’s okay to admit it now that you’re about to come, and I’m about to watch you while you do.”

“Are you always so sure of yourself?”

“Yes,” he replied without a moment’s hesitation. “Undo my shirt, Rachel. Stop playing this coy little game, and take what you want.”

“Is that what you do?”

“Play coy? Never,” he confirmed.

Her eyes dropped to her fingers as they rapidly started undoing his shirt. “You’re very clever at twisting and playing with my words.”

“That’s what I do. My job requires me to twist words and to know when someone is trying to bullshit me.”

When she reached the final button, she pulled his shirt apart, biting her bottom lip between her teeth. Seeing him was such a sinful shock. Being this close to him, she couldn’t stop herself from staring, but now wasn’t the time to look. It was time to act.

Placing her hands on his stomach, she smoothed her palms up his body until she reached the small metal bars. “And that’s what you think I’m doing—bullshitting you?”

His jaw flexed as she ran her fingers over his nipples.

“I think you’re confused.”

Fixing her eyes on his, she pinched one of the nipples she was playing with. “Oh? And what am I confused about?”

Lowering his head, Cole warned her, “Be careful with what you’re doing there. Do you really think that hurts or bothers me? If you twist it a little harder, you might not like my reaction.”

“You told me to,” she pointed out.

“That’s right, Rachel. I told you to do it. I allowed you to touch me, didn’t I?”

As what he was saying sank in, her frustration and annoyance caught up with her, and she twisted his nipple harder. Instantly, he crowded in, standing against her so close that her hands were pressed between his bare chest and her breasts. His hands were still by her head, and as she looked up at him, he stared down at her with feverish eyes.

“That wasn’t very nice. Why did you do it?”

“You said you wouldn’t touch me,” she blurted out, feeling trapped.

“I’m not touching you. My hands are on the wall. Your hands are actually touching me. Now, Rachel, answer me. Why did you do that?”

“Do what?”

“You know what. Don’t make me repeat the question again.”

“Or what?” she asked incredulously.

“Answer me, Rachel,” he growled.

“I was annoyed that you tricked me. I’m frustrated!” she spat out.

“Good. So am I,” he pointed out. “Stop playing this silly fucking game with me, and tell me what you want.”

Rachel could feel her rapid breathing pushing her breasts against her hands and his bare chest. Licking her lips, she stood frozen. She knew what she wanted, but she couldn’t find the courage to voice it. That didn’t seem to be a problem for Cole though.

“I only want to give you what you want, Rachel.” He rubbed his chest against her arms. “Don’t you want to get what you want?”

Blinking up at him, Rachel parted her mouth as he lowered his head. She felt the tip of his tongue tracing her lips while he kept his hands planted by her head, still not touching her.

“I want to do that down between your legs. Don’t you want that?”

* * *

Cole was so fucking hard that he was surprised he hadn’t busted through the zipper on his pants. Rachel’s face was a study of hunger and longing. Her mouth parted, she looked ravenous, yet she couldn’t seem to say one damn thing.

He could tell she was aroused because her breathing had accelerated, pushing her hands up and down more rapidly against his bare chest. He would also bet all his money on the fact that she was now wet and warm between those sexy thighs. He wanted between her thighs so badly that his cock was actually starting to hurt.

“Have you ever been in one of these rooms, Rachel?” Cole almost laughed from the expression that crossed her face, but he didn’t want to lose the moment they were in. “You want to know a secret?” he asked, lowering his mouth to her ear. “Neither have I. I don’t want to tie you to a bed or strap you to a cross. I want you to willingly want every single thing I plan to do to you. I want you to keep your hands behind your back because you want to.” Biting her earlobe, he then added, “And I want you to swallow because you love the fucking taste. Play with me, Rachel, so I can play with you.”

Moving back to her mouth, Cole greedily followed her tongue with his as she licked her lips. She groaned and pushed her body forward. She wasn’t trying to dislodge him; she was trying to get closer.

“How close are you?” he demanded, biting her slick lower lip as he rubbed himself against her. When no answer came, he released her and confessed, “You smell so fucking tempting. I can’t wait to get between your legs.”

“Oh god.” Moaning, she closed her eyes.

Squirming against him, she extricated a hand from between them and slid it down. Moving back a few inches, Cole let his gaze drop, and he cursed when he watched her pull the zipper on her skirt from the bottom up.

She pushed her hand up under the leather and hissed as she obviously got her fingers where she wanted them. “Yes! I agree.”

“Clarify.” He moved back in close to her, trapping her eager hands between them.

She raised her other hand to his nipple and twisted the piercing.

“Rachel,” he growled. With his hands still against the fucking wall, he glared down at her. Goddamn it.

“Yes,” she keened.

“Yes to what?”

“Yes to my orgasm, and yes to whatever else you just said,” she agreed desperately. Closing her eyes, she began fucking her hand as she played with his nipple.

Cole almost found the situation humorous as Rachel tipped her head back and came with a loud scream.

Un-fucking-real. She is totally uninhibited, he thought. This is going to be fun.

As her eyes opened, she focused on him, giving him a lazy self-satisfied smile. She released his now tender flesh with a condescending pat over his wolf tat on his chest.

As though she had broken the orgasmic spell she had dragged him under, he softly asked in a menacing tone, “Satisfied?”

She gave him a smug look. “Very.”

Cole dropped his hands from the wall and pinned her to it with his stare. “Good. Now, it’s time to negotiate.”

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