The Pleasure Slave

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

Never Ask Your Master For Anything

On Monday, Julia opened up the shop one hour and ten minutes late, which wasn't bad in her estimation, considering she'd forgotten all about her business. Of course, she blamed Tristan for that. The man constantly consumed her mind, body and heart. In bed and out.

Perhaps some of her preoccupation with him stemmed from the fact that she'd almost lost him. That Zirra wanted him enough to hurtle him through galaxies and time, wanted him enough to destroy his guan ren's possessions.

Perhaps the same worries lingered in Tristan's mind, because he remained at her side, his eyes always watching the store safe, where she'd locked his box. Neither of them had wanted to leave the house without it. He remained tense and guarded, as if he expected a monstrous alien to fly into her store and attack, which was exactly what she considered Zirra. A monstrous alien with a God complex who needed someone to knock her down a peg or two.

The image of doing just that flashed through her mind, and she smiled. And as she smiled, she recalled all the other reasons she had for smiling. First and most important being the fact that she had a lover! Her. Julia Anderson. She'd gotten laid. She'd had so many glorious orgasms and had given her lover numerous orgasms of his own.

Practically skipping, she went to the register, lifted the candy canister and selected several pieces—all of them chocolate. She deserved a treat for her fantastic performance this morning. The first one she ate teased and tantalized her taste buds, reminding her of Tristan. With her eyes closed in surrender, she ate the second, and then the third.

Moments later, she felt Tristan come up behind her.

"Stop moaning every time you eat those," he said fiercely, his warm breath tickling her ear. Awareness rustled along her skin. Thankfully, they were alone in the store.

"Or what?" She turned to face him, her expression daring him as she fought a rush of sensations between her legs. "You'll beat me?"

Gone was the intense guardian of the day. In his place was a man who only responded to the sensual. His heat bored into her, sending tingles of delight along her nerve endings.

"Aye," he said. "I will beat you most soundly."

The way he said those words made her long for whips and chains and anything else he might need to properly punish her. Where had this playful, flirty wanton come from? she wondered, amazed with herself. Plain, awkward Julia had finally become a tease! He looked so beautiful, seething with sensuality, life and carnal intent.

Huskily she said, "Do you promise to make it hurt real good?"

He clasped a stray tendril of her hair between his fingers and smoothed it from her cheek.

"Whatever happened to the shy maiden who tried to defend her honor with karate?"

"She took lessons from the master of seduction." Laughing throatily, she ran her hands up his chest. "It's too bad those lessons are completed."

"How dare you say such a thing," he replied with mock ire. "The lessons were never completed. There is so much more I must teach you."

"Oh, really?" Her teeth nibbled at her bottom lip just the way she knew he liked. She teased the waist of his jeans with her fingertips, then dipped lower and cupped him. "What else do you need to teach me?"

He hissed in a breath.

"That there is a penalty for teasing your man. Later," he promised. "You are mine." Oh, yes. She was his. And he was hers.

"Now, if we do not change the subject," he added, "I cannot be responsible for my actions."

Though it required all of her strength, Julia pulled away from him. Her store was no place for a seduction. Not during working hours, at least. With a sigh, she glanced at her wristwatch.

"My landlord's son is supposed to fix the bathroom pipes today, and he's—big surprise—late. Since your knowledge is so advanced—" she almost choked on that one " — would you mind taking a look?"

"I do not mind," he said. He licked his lips with wicked intent. "That is to say, I do not mind… if you will agree to pay me for my services."

Still thrumming with excitement, she flicked her hair over one shoulder and acted nonchalant.

"What kind of payment?"

"The lascivious kind, of course."

She tried to appear reluctant, she really did. "All right," she said, hoping her tone sounded less eager to him than it did to her. "But only because I'm desperate to have those pipes fixed."

"I will take great pleasure in the receiving of my payment."

As would she, she was sure.

"Just out of curiosity, have you ever done any plumbing work?"

"Nay, but my knowledge is—"

"Sufficient. I know." She placed her hands on her hips. "I should supervise."

"Let us get to work." He pulled his T-shirt over his head, baring his body from the waist up. His deeply tanned muscles rippled with the movement.

Her mouth watered because she knew exactly how that skin tasted. She'd licked every inch of it only this morning, and she knew he tasted much better than chocolate. If only he weren't so handsome, so beguiling that even the air in her lungs burned for him. Lord, not even six hours ago, the very body she was now ogling had been pressed up against hers, doing wonderful things to her.

The man needed only to remove one item of clothing, and she was hot for him. No, the man needed only to look at her, and she was hot for him. Almost trembling with her desire, she followed him into the bathroom and watched him as he worked. She was struck again by the raw masculinity of his form, the panther-like grace with which he moved, even while doing manual labor.

But half an hour later, she was jerked from her sensual reverie when Tristan began shouting curses at the pipes. She gasped when she saw that he had cut his hand. Concerned, she rushed to his side. Blood seeped from the wound, running with constant force.

She had to bite back her fear as she grabbed his shirt from the floor and hurriedly wrapped the material around his hand. Soon crimson soaked through the white, and dripped to the floor. "I need another bandage. This one is useless. Do you still keep a spare set of clothing in your office?"

"Yes. I'll just go get—"

"There is not time. I'm bleeding too badly. Remove your blouse and hand it to me," he demanded, his attention centered on his wound.

"Of course."

Her concern for him increased. She tugged off her shirt and helped him rewrap his hand.

"Now give me your panties," he said.

This time she paused and bunked up at him.

"What?"

He winced. A little too forcefully, perhaps?

"Give me your panties," he repeated.

She studied his features, and suspicions grew in her mind.

"Let me see your hand."

"There is no time. I have need of your panties."

"What kind of need?"

"I am in pain, woman, and you dare question me?"

She didn't doubt he was in pain. It was the type of pain that was in question. There was a mischievous twinkle in his eyes, and she knew her thin, lacy thong would offer no protection for his injury. Still, willing to play along, Julia cast a quick glance around the corner to make sure no customers had entered. They were still alone.

Feeling daring and uninhibited, she removed her pink lace thong and gave the tiny scrap to Tristan. Cool air touched the heat of her, making her shiver. Delightful bumps popped up all over her skin.

"There," she said, trying to hide her growing excitement. "Happy now?"

"Nay. I need your skirt, as well."

Not wanting this to be too easy for him, she crossed her arms over her chest.

"What for?"

"Come here and I will show you."

"No way. You only get paid when the pipes are fixed. And they aren't fixed."

"True, but this is just to inspire me."

Well, how could she argue with that? If the man needed inspiration… A fog of anticipation wrapped around her as she closed the distance between them. Grinning, he lifted her up and placed her atop the sink's edge.

"That is better," he said. With slow, deliberate movements, he removed the shirt from around his hand and tossed it to the ground.

She stared down at his palm. As she watched, his wound was even then healing itself. The tissues were weaving together, interlacing and sealing. Soon there was no evidence he had ever been hurt. Her jaw dropped.

"How did you do that?"

"A function of the curse."

He tugged her skirt from her body and dropped it with a whoosh. He held fast to her thong.

"This is mine."

"Okay. But you have to give me something in return."

"Hmm, I like the customs of your world. What do you say I keep your panties and in return I give you your woman's pleasure twice?"

As if she needed to think about that!

"Sounds like a good bargain to me."

Through the fabric of her bra, he circled his fingertips over her nipples. Just as it did every time he touched her, the heat of his skin seared her to the core. She gasped.

"I want you, Julia. Are you too sore?"

Yes, but need pulsed through her anyway. It was like melting, dissolving into hot flames.

"I want you," she said, "and I'm willing to bet you can make me forget any discomfort I might feel."

"Such will be my personal mission."

He placed drugging kisses along her breasts, making her bra moist, causing delicious friction, then he flicked each nipple with his tongue.

"Did you lock the front door?" she asked suddenly.

He shook his head and gave her a soft, sweet kiss that captured her breath.

"Nay."

"Then don't make me scream, okay? I have to know if someone comes in."

"If I cannot make you scream, little dragon, I am not worthy to be your lover."

With that, he slipped inside her. Five minutes later, she was moaning. Ten minutes later she was ordering him to move faster. Fifteen minutes later she screamed over and over again, the sound echoing off the walls. Neither heard the bell above the door chime.