Tied to the Tycoon (11 page)

“I need you,” he said.

She looked up at him. “What?”

“Now,” he said, and pushed her against the wall. She grunted a little when her back hit the wall, and her hair fell back in front of her face. He pushed it out of the way and kissed her, hard.

He did what he wanted. He reached up under the brand new sweater to feel her breasts, pushing it up over her chest and unhooking her bra from the front. Then she was out in the open, disheveled looking, and it made him instantly hard. He bent down to take a sweet nipple in his mouth, and let his hands rove over her body until he found the hem of her skirt. He pushed it up over her hips, not caring that they were out in a hallway, not caring about anything at all besides pushing aside her panties and getting inside her.

“Jackson—”

He didn’t want to talk for once, didn’t want any more words to remind him of all the time that had passed, of all the things that had happened to her that he would never know about. He only wanted to be close to her. He covered her mouth with his and pushed his finger inside her, curling it the way she liked. He felt her bear down, and she moaned. She was already so goddamn wet, it was incredible.

He couldn’t wait another second. He ripped at the zipper on his pants while she threw her arms around him, resting her head on his shoulder.

“Oh God,” she said, so softly he almost didn’t hear it.

And then he was out, his cock so hard it pulsed. He reached down and scooped her up into the air, so light he didn’t even need the wall, and held her just above him while she wrapped her legs around him.

She touched his face and he lowered her onto his cock, filling her until she closed her eyes and sighed.

Then he dug his fingers into her flesh, pinned her against the wall, and drove into her until she came convulsing around him, drawing out his orgasm with great, shuddering breaths.

~  ~  ~

It wasn’t until after they’d eaten lunch and gone on a walk around the grounds that Jackson figured out what he needed to do.

They were walking down the stone steps that led to an old quarry that had been fashioned into a pond that froze over reliably in winter when Jackson realized he was looking over his shoulder for Lillian. That sucked. He didn’t want to be thinking about anything or anyone but Ava, but here he was, worried that Lillian would show up and give Ava the wrong impression. Again. Frankly, he was worried about dealing with Lillian, and about what that meant for the launch, but Ava was his priority.

And he was concerned about her. He was troubled by what he’d learned already, that she didn’t paint anymore, that she considered that a part of her past. And that she was so uncomfortable being “out” as submissive, even in a place where the whole damn point was that you could be yourself. It suggested that maybe the problem wasn’t other people. Maybe Ava just wasn’t all that comfortable being herself.

Jackson had to admit that wouldn’t surprise him. Ava was still the most guarded person he’d ever met, still had that armor that she could put on in a flash. He’d been wondering if she’d told anyone in her life where she was, for real, and then she’d gotten that mystery phone call. All he’d heard was, “yeah, still on that junket,” and he’d known she’d kept it secret. She probably hadn’t told anyone about him at all.

Damn, it’s been just a few days, Jackson. Give the girl room to breathe.
Well, that was as it was. And he had told her no strings.

But that didn’t mean it wouldn’t be good for her to accept herself in public.

Jackson smiled as Ava trudged back toward him through the snow, looking happy to see him. He had a plan now.

He took Ava’s hand and cocked his head toward the pond.

“Everyone will come out ice skating here tonight,” he said. “They’ll light it up with lanterns and stuff.”

She nodded in appreciation, looking out at the beautiful, thick ice, almost completely surrounded by steep, sheeted walls of rough-hewn rock. It looked like something out of a fairytale.

“It’s nice to be rich, huh?” she said.

“I haven’t found many things I care to spend money on. Maybe just one,” he finished, giving her a sly look. It was corny, but he was kind of proud of that line.

She looked airily back at him. “Single serving dairy creamers?”

That deserved a pile of snow on top of the head. She squealed with laughter as she ran, and by the time he caught her and had gotten his proper, snowy revenge, he was already wondering how he could possibly wait until after dinner to have her again. To avoid the temptation, he lifted her over his shoulder and carried her back to the house. He had arrangements to make.

chapter
12

Ava edged closer to the fire, wine glass in hand, and brooded. Jackson was planning something. Ever since she’d taken that stupid call from Alain while they were out walking, Jackson had had that look in his eye. That mischievous look that said he took as much pleasure in teasing her with offhand comments and allusions as he would in whatever it was that he had planned for her.

That look, and the way it made her feel all warm and mushy about Jackson, was one reason for the wine. The other was the general goings on at Camp Kinkmas, as Ava had come to think of the Volare retreat. The wine was meant to relax her while Jackson went about his preparations, whatever they were, and she was left in one of the common great rooms with the other guests.

The other guests at the
BDSM Christmas retreat
. Ava was pretty sure she’d never get over the fact that such a thing existed. The other guests, who had apparently planned some themed activities. The other guests, who included Lillian and her date, a cheerful looking salt-and-pepper gentleman who mostly seemed happy to have a date at all.

Jackson had allowed her exactly one glass of wine while he was off making his “arrangements.” He didn’t want her impaired, he’d said. As Ava watched while people picked names out of a hat for Volare’s version of Secret Santa—whatever that entailed—she wondered if a glass of eggnog would technically be cheating. She didn’t often indulge, given her family history, but this seemed like an exception.

The irony was, she
wanted
to be able to join in and have fun, even if she didn’t want to be anyone but Jackson’s Secret Santa gift. She just couldn’t. For some reason, this was one situation where she couldn’t become her usual social persona, laughing and playing along and charming everyone. There was some sort of block. She envied the others, though, having their fun. Even Lillian.

Nope, do not think about that. Do not think about Jackson and Lillian…

Ava’s phone buzzed again on the low table beside the couch she’d claimed as her own. It was probably Alain again. She thought she’d blown him off pretty effectively when he’d called earlier, with her breezy lie about a junket, but apparently she’d sounded like she was having too much fun. Alain had wanted to know where it was, and she was sure he was calling to figure out how to crash the party.

The weird thing was, Ava still wasn’t all that concerned. Objectively, she reasoned, it was actually pretty freaking worrying. She’d put a lot into her advertising career, into outwardly making herself into the kind of person who succeeded in the advertising world. And Ava cared about being successful.

Or she had. Whatever had driven her ambition before, this week seemed to be on the fritz. Right here, right now, with Jackson, it all seemed so totally alien to her. Like it didn’t just belong to some other life, but to some other person.

My God, a few days of incredible sex, and I’m cracking up.

Didn’t they say great sex was supposed to be
good
for you? Was supposed to totally bliss you out and make you all zen and focused? Leave it to Ava to lose her mind, instead.

Because she was feeling pretty anxious right now. She should be totally relaxed, finally in a place where her sexual submissiveness wasn’t something she had to feel weird about, finally with a man she trusted, with no strings, and instead of being at ease, she was a total stress case. She did feel relaxed and at peace and safe when it was just her and Jackson. But somehow, having to face these people and be reminded that there was a real world out there…

Maybe it was because she knew it would have to end. That she’d have to return to that real world.

Maybe.

Or maybe she was just nervous as hell about whatever it was that Jackson was doing that required an hour of preparation.

“Ok, this is ridiculous,” Ava said to herself as she downed the rest of her wine. She was on an actual sex vacation; she could be a little more cheerful. Screw the anxiety, and screw what anyone else thought of her, and screw…

“Just screw everything,” she muttered.

“You only get to screw me.” Jackson had snuck up on her. He was standing just behind her, looking all rugged in his snow boots and cable knit sweater.

“I am actually one hundred percent ok with that,” she said.

He flashed her a grin before putting on his stern Dom face.

“Get up,” he ordered.

Ava shivered a little and stood up. She was glad to have Jackson back to herself, and glad to have something else to think about.

He looked her up and down, and seemed to be studying her clothing. Was it not appropriate somehow? This was a pretty casual place, and besides, she was wearing what he’d brought for her. Just some leggings and a belted sweater dress and boots—nothing fancy, but still kind of classy.

“Is this ok?” she asked, looking down.

“It’s fine,” Jackson said, and hooked his fingers into her belt. Ava bit her lip and stayed quiet. She was already feeling the heat between her legs. He continued, “I have everything else we need. Follow me.”

He set off at a brisk pace and she trotted after him, not caring now about what she did or did not feel a part of, or whether she was anxious, or what it meant to show this part of herself to other people. She stole a glance at the rest of the small weekend group as they left. They all had ice skates slung over their shoulders, and Ava remembered what Jackson had said about the quarry—it probably would be beautiful to skate there at night.

But not nearly as gorgeous as the man who was leading her…somewhere.

Outside?

Jackson had led her to a side door and was holding up a giant white parka.

“Put this on.”

The parka was definitely overkill. It was only just cold enough for the snow to stay pristine and for their breath to hang in the air under the porch lights. Ava looked around as he lead her outside to the stone patio, expecting some sort of ice castle picnic or something. Instead, there was a two-person snowmobile just off the path. More like a sled, really, laden down with packages.

“Are we delivering Volare Christmas cheer?” She smiled. “Handcuffs? Various unmentionables?”

He laughed in a way that said Ava wasn’t in on the joke. “Kind of.”

Ava inhaled deeply. She didn’t know what that meant, but maybe that was best.

“Ok, but do you know how to drive that thing?” she asked.

He looked at her, momentarily offended, and swung a leg over the seat. “I’d never be reckless with your safety. Get on.”

She believed him. In fact, that was the one thing she felt certain of, and she grabbed hold of it in her mind, grateful to have something that made sense. She was already starting to feel disoriented again, drunk on anticipation and novelty and the previously unknown parts of her that kept surfacing with each new thing Jackson did to her, and it was nice to have something familiar and comforting. She did trust him. She straddled the seat and hugged Jackson tightly.

“You ready?”

She nodded into his back, and they were off. He went slowly at first, circling around the back of the huge house, leaving distinctive tracks in the otherwise virgin snow. In just a few minutes, they were far enough from the house that they relied on the moonlight, the pale light shining steadily on the expanse of snow. Ava had no idea where they were going. He’d started off in the direction of the quarry pond they’d seen the day before, but then he’d turned, and they were traveling up the side of a long hill with no evidence of other human beings anywhere.

She hugged him a little tighter, and he sped up.

Soon they were cresting the top of the hill, and Jackson slowed down as the coniferous pines started to get a bit thicker on the ground. By the time he brought them to a stop, Ava felt lulled into a kind of dream state. Everything around her was so beautiful, so peaceful. There was only the sound of Jackson crunching in the snow, of Ava’s breath.

Actually, there was kind of a lot of snow. Ava looked down at her decidedly not-weather-proofed boots.

“Jackson?”

He had already gotten off of the snowmobile and was strapping the packages he’d brought with him to his back.

“Jackson, I don’t know if these boots—”

He didn’t answer except to lift her from the back of the snowmobile. He slung her around until he caught her legs and she was cradled in his arms.

Ava bit her lip. She loved being tossed around. “That’s ok, too.”

She thought she saw him smile in the dark, and then he carried her, not as far as it looked, just down a curved path and into a clearing that ended in what looked like a cliff. There was yellow light coming from below the edge of the cliff, lighting the smooth, flat rocks that emerged from under the snow near its edge.

“It’s gorgeous,” she said.

“You ain’t seen nothing yet.”

He carried her over to the smooth rocks on the very edge of the cliff and set her down.

“Stay there,” he said. Then he started rummaging about in his pack, leaving Ava to look around, rooted to the spot.

She could see trees to either side, some quite close, and one with branches that hung over the edge of the cliff. Which, there was a cliff, and something below was lit…

The quarry pond. They must be above the quarry pond. It would be beautiful right now to look over the edge, but Jackson had told her to stay put. She would. She looked more immediately around her, and saw that the rocks were bare because someone had removed the snow and then placed several propane-powered outdoor heating lamps in what looked like a very strategic semi-circle. She was actually getting overheated in her parka.