Lorelei James - Bound

As if she’d be able to concentrate now. When his warm mouth connected with the skin below her ear, she broke out in goose bumps and released a soft moan.

“This won’t work.” Ronin spun her around, facing her forward. “You make that sexy noise again and I’ll have you naked in less than three seconds,” he growled in her ear.

Amery couldn’t resist wiggling her ass against his erection.

Ronin pulled her hair. “Stop that and talk.”

“I met Tyler at a frat party our junior year in college. We were the only sober ones and hid out in the kitchen, talking all night.” She would stick to the basics, just as he did. “We dated, and he said he wanted to marry me after college once his baseball career was on track. When he got a tryout with the Rockies and ended up on the farm team, I decided to move to Denver.”

“Did you live with him?” Ronin brushed his fingers up and down her bare arms.

“No. At the time it was too ingrained that I’d be living in sin. If I had a ring on my finger, it would’ve been different. So we lived in the same apartment complex. Not quite a year after I moved here, I caught him screwing some skank. He said a bunch of horrible stuff, blamed his cheating on me, and I broke it off. I moved in with Chaz. Focused on my career.”

“Any other men?”

Her face flamed. “I’ve been out on a few dates, but it hasn’t progressed past that.”

Ronin kissed her neck. “He did a number on you, didn’t he?”

“Between him and my parents . . . I wonder if I’ll ever have a normal relationship.”

His hands slid up to her shoulders. The deep timbre of his voice caused her skin to vibrate when he spoke into her ear. “No such thing as normal, baby.”

Baby. Why did she like that he called her baby? Why did she get the sense he wasn’t the guy who called every woman babe or baby? Why did it make her feel special?

His hand coasted over her breasts, stopping to cup them, weigh the heft in his palms as his thumbs stroked her nipples.

Even through the cotton shirt and bra, her nipples responded. Puckering into rigid points. Making her ache.

His hot mouth skimmed over the side of her neck. “How many guys have touched you like this?”

None. But that wasn’t what he wanted to know. The demand made her bristle. “Are you willing to give me a running tally of the number of woman you’ve touched like this?”

Ronin lightly bit her neck. “Answer. The. Question.”

Amery shuddered at the eroticism of his teeth. She’d never considered biting sexy, but everything seemed new and exciting when Ronin did it to her.

“Stubborn,” he whispered in her ear. “I don’t have a scorecard. But I do have ten years agewise on you, so my tally of past dalliances will be higher by default.” He licked the shell of her ear while his hands teased her breasts. “Tell. Me.”

“Four guys,” she breathed. “Guy in my hometown who popped my cherry, a random hookup at a party my sophomore year in college, Tyler, and another random hookup last year. Happy now?”

“Very. Because with that few it’ll be easier erasing the memory of any man’s touch but mine.”

She groaned. “If you’re trying to turn me into a pile of goo, it’s working.”

“Not goo, baby. Just want you trembling in my arms.”

“I already am.”

Ronin ran his hands down her abdomen and thighs, stopping at her knees. “So you are.” He nuzzled the back of her head. “Will you come over tomorrow night? I’ll have a surprise to show you. And no, it’s not what’s in my pants.”

“I wasn’t thinking that.”

He bumped his hips up. “Our lunch hour is running out.”

Amery set her feet on the floor and stood. Then she offered him her hand to help him up. She grabbed her laptop bag and slipped on her shoes before they got onto the elevator.

Once they reached the main entrance, Ronin said, “I’m done tomorrow about eight. Can you come by?”

“Sure. I’ll text you if something changes.”

“Same goes.” Then Ronin pushed her against the wall and kissed the holy hell out of her. By the time he let her go, her mind was scrambled and she wondered if she could walk.

All that. From just a kiss.

He murmured something in Japanese to her and retreated.

Before she asked what it meant, Knox strode down the corridor. “We’ve got an issue. You able to handle this now?”

“Yes.” Ronin offered Amery a quick bow and then he was gone.

THE next night Ronin whisked Amery into the elevator within thirty seconds of her walking in the building.

He didn’t touch her until they were in his penthouse, herding her against the wall with the soft command “Hold still.”

Not only did she hold still, but Amery held her breath.

Ronin’s lips glided across hers. His mouth imparted softness and heat. And patience. Lord, he had such patience. He didn’t dive in. His lips moved with erotic precision, as if memorizing the shape of her mouth.

One of Ronin’s hands cradled the back of her head; the other lightly circled her neck. He held her entirely in his thrall: her body and her will.

“So warm. So soft. I could eat at his mouth for hours,” he murmured, taking his own sweet time.

Amery clenched her fists by her sides, wanting so much to touch him. To feel the hard planes and the curves of his muscles beneath her hands. But she wanted his kiss—his whole kiss. Wanted to feel his tongue invade her mouth. Wanted him to consume her however aggressively or sweetly he desired.

His thumb swept across the pulse point at the base of her jaw—a lazy counterpoint to how fast her heart beat. And still he teased. Stealing her breath with every leisurely slide of his lower lip over hers.

Finally he said, “Open and let me taste you, Amery.”

Her lips parted and he sealed his mouth to hers. His tongue slipping past her teeth to stroke and lick.

The man knew how to kiss. Gradually cranking the power until she felt the change in him and his passion, his hunger rolling over her in a storm of need.

Amery returned his kiss with equal greed. Losing herself in his taste, letting him lead, but also showing him she’d follow wherever he opted to take them.

The kiss reached the combustible stage. She wanted to claw at his clothes to get to bare skin, reach down and undo his fly.

Ronin broke the kiss and pressed his cheek to hers, murmuring, “Hands at your sides.”

She let her hands fall down.

His ragged breathing ruffled her hair. He remained like that until she relaxed. Then his fingers started caressing her neck. He rubbed his lips across the top of her ear. “It’s humbling the way you just hand yourself over to me without question. That act of trust is a drug to someone like me.”

“Someone like you?” she repeated.

“Someone who not only wants a beautiful woman on his arm and in his bed, but a woman who can truly surrender herself to a man who will give her what she wants.”

“Which is what?”

“Pleasure without apology.”

Amery found herself leaning into him again. “Are you taking me to bed, Ronin?”

“Soon, but not tonight.”

She knew he sensed her disappointment.

“While I want you twined around me in every possible config- uration, there’s no rush.” Ronin kissed her temple, then her forehead, and placed a chaste kiss on her lips. His hands fell away. “I promised you a drink.”

“You said you had a surprise for me.”

“I do. Let’s figure out what we’re drinking first.” Ronin threaded their fingers together and led her to the bar in the corner of the dining room.

She loved the mix of old and new in this cozy corner bar. It had such personality she didn’t know how she’d missed it the night he’d given her the penthouse tour. Exposed red clay brick walls, bright blue neon lighting beneath the teak bar top. Track lighting hanging from the rafters highlighted the glass shelves holding the liquor bottles on the bar-back and cast muted light over the entire area. She slid onto a sleek leather and chrome barstool.

“What’ll it be?”

Her eyes scanned the liquor bottles. “Do you have every kind of booze there is?”

“I like a variety.”

“What do you usually drink?”

“Depends on my mood. I’m leaning toward a gin and tonic.”

“I’ll have the same.”

Ronin smiled. “Coming right up.”

Amery bit back a girlie sigh at seeing his rare smile. With her, away from the dojo, he seemed to have a softer side. Ronin in action as eighth-degree black belt and hard-ass owner of Black Arts had a cool veneer as well as an aura of power. Everything about him screamed discipline.

With that cool veneer stripped away, the man oozed sex. From his unruly black hair, to his liquid brown eyes that changed from ice to fire in one quick blink, to the fullness of his sensual mouth. And don’t get her started on the strength in his body. The measured way he walked—a combination of purpose and grace. The deliberateness as his hands performed a task even as simple as making a drink—no wasted movement. The man was an erotic enigma.

So . . . why was he interested in her?

She’d been so lost in thoughts of him she jumped when he slid a drink across the bar.

“See if that tastes okay.”

Amery sucked in a mouthful and swallowed. Crisp, tangy, limey. She smacked her lips. “It’s perfect. Is there anything you don’t do well?”

Ronin thought about it a bit before he shook his head. “If it’s worth doing, it’s worth doing right.”

“You’re intimidating as hell, Ronin Black.”