Page 16 of Degrees of Control

He bit back what he knew would have been a sinister-sounding chuckle. “That’s understandable, sweetheart, but tell me something. Was I the first guy to push you that way? Make you feel those things?”

She gave an almost undetectable nod, and James wanted to pound his chest like a Neanderthal. There was nothing,nothing, better than breaking in a girl who was new to kink and he was going to be that man for Charlotte. Come hell, or high water he was going to show her how good this could feel. He bit her neck again, pressing their hips together so she knew he meant business.

“You want me to be that guy for you? That bad man that takes away your guilt and fucks you like the dirty slut you want to pretend to be? Say the word and I’ll make it as real as it gets.”

There was a pause, a moment in which James couldfeelCharlotte’s desire battling with every piece of well-meaning, good girl advice that had ever been thrown her way, then her full lips parted. “Yes,” she whispered. “I want that.”

James smirked. “Fine. You’ll come by my place tomorrow night and everything you’ve imagined is gonna pale in comparison.”

He bit the side of her neck once more, savoring her smell, her taste, before lowering her to the ground. His dick protested but she had somewhere to be and he wasn’t going to keep her from it, no matter how good it would feel to fuck something so sweet in a dirty alleyway.

Charlotte stood watching him tentatively, seemingly unwilling to leave. James leaned against the wall and examined her body. His cock was jammed against his fly, but he resisted adjusting himself. The way she was watching him was too good to interrupt. It was like he was the most terrifying thing she’d ever wanted inside her. Eventually, she swallowed. “I have to go.”

“I know that, darlin’. I’ll text you my address.”

“You don’t have my number.”

He dug into his pocket and pulled out her business card. He held it out between his fingers like a magician doing a trick. “Charlotte Bell, yoga instructor.’ I’m thinking about getting a private lesson. What do you say, Blue-Eyes?” He laughed at the indignant look on her face.

“Where did you get that?”

“Found it lyin’ around that hippie café. You think if I called the number your phone would ring?”

She blushed. “It’s a general work line. Everyone at the studio uses it.”

“Then your work line must receive a lot of dirty shit from men who see you in that yoga getup and wanna know what’s underneath it.”

Charlotte tugged at the bottom of her jade-green tank top. “And how are these perverts supposed to know my name?”

“They’d make it their business to know. Just like I did.”

She gave him a huffy sort of smile he liked way too much, and he found himself moving close to her, bending his head and taking another long pull off those lips.

So good, it would feel so good to take her up against the wall, bury yourself inside that tight little pussy…

He stepped back with a groan. He had to get away from Charlotte’s mouth. She wouldn’t be going home with him tonight, he might as well spare himself the discomfort.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

“I’m fine, darlin’. I’m gonna go. You’ll hear from me later, don’t wait too long to reply.”

Charlotte put her hands on her hips. “How? You still don’t have my number, you know.”

God, her skepticism was cute. James pulled his phone from his pocket and pushed dial. Music blasted from Charlotte’s pocket and she pulled out her phone, her face a particularly pretty shade of red. “Well played, mysterious guy trying to get in my pants.”

James laughed. “I’ve been in your pants, darlin’, I just intend to be there again.”

Soaking up her nervous smile, James turned and walked away without looking back. Submissive little peaches like Charlotte Bell liked delayed gratification almost as much as they liked the flat of his hand against their asses. He’d be fucking her tomorrow night. There was no doubt about that.

Chapter 5

Charlie reached under her pencil skirt and tried to discreetly adjust her stockings. A dark-haired man eyed her legs and nodded in approval. God, she wished she’d worn garters. Turns out “self-suspending” was more of a suggestion than a fact. She stuck her tongue out at the man and returned her gaze to the window. She’d borrowed her current attire from Holly, the yoga studio’s receptionist. They were a similar height and size, but with two notable exceptions—Charlie’s breasts were barely contained by the thin white silk of Holly’s blouse. Normally she’d have strapped them down, but wearing a beige bra to a tryst seemed like sexual suicide, so she’d opted to go braless, pushing the somewhat demure outfit into porno-librarian territory.

Hopefully I won’t be wearing it for long.

The thought caused excitement to flicker across her stomach, and her inner muscles pulsed as though they had a mind of their own. The rumbling vibrations of the bus seat weren’t exactly helping either.

Don’t think about him.Don’t think about how hot he is. Don’t think about the way he kissed you. Just focus on not sweating.