Chapter 2
Chapter Two
R oss watched his brown-eyed angel flutter across the room to the kitchen, obviously hoping to escape. The main reason he loved this cabin was because it was a whole house contained in one large room. The roomy kitchen was separated from the rest of the room by a long bar and it contained everything needed to make someone’s stay special. An extra-large refrigerator, microwave, convection oven and dishwasher made sure visitors wouldn’t starve or slave.
On the opposite wall of the cabin was the tall king-sized oak bed, with a matching dresser, chest and wardrobe. In the center of the room was the large living area, complete with an oversized couch and two easy chairs facing the big stone fireplace, a huge bearskin rug on the floor in front and a double-sided partner desk, one side of which Jules had clearly claimed as her laptop and notes rested there.
The only other room in the cabin was the adjoining bathroom with a large Jacuzzi tub and double-headed shower stall.
It was a lover’s paradise. Ross had known the moment he laid eyes on it he would buy it and bring Jules here. For the first time in their decade-long relationship, his favorite author would have no escape—not from him or his plans for seduction.
He watched as his skittish kitten dropped the fork she was using to flip the ham steaks she’d hastily thrown into a cast-iron skillet. Grinning, he admired her luscious backside as she bent to pick it up.
God, she was perfect.
Ross shook his head, amazed to think he’d been blind to her beauty for so many years. He and Jules had rocketed to the top of their respective fields together. They had climbed the ladder of success side by side and foolishly, Ross had wasted the first few years of their relationship treating her like a little sister. Studying her now, he was feeling anything but brotherly.
His feelings for her hadn’t changed overnight, but rather evolved gradually after the unsavory incident between Jules and Scott Jenkins. Watching Julia flirt and make eyes at the asshole accountant had nearly driven him out of his mind that night. He’d never seen her show any interest in another man and the image of her showering all her lovely smiles and lilting laughter on someone else was more than he could stand. Jealousy, in regard to Jules, was a new emotion for him and it took him by surprise.
Of course, it didn’t help that she was wearing a sheer red blouse and black velvet skirt shorter than he’d ever seen her in. He was used to seeing her in her tomboy outfits—jeans and T-shirts. Yet that night, she’d obviously taken special pains with her appearance—even wearing makeup and pulling her lovely brown hair up in a chignon, allowing a few wisps to frame her face. Ross’s fingers itched during the whole party to yank her upstairs, take her hair down, pull his hands through it and watch it trail over her shoulders.
When he saw her fighting Scott on the bed, her eyes wide with fear, he was overwhelmed with an anger more intense than any he’d ever felt before. For the first time in his life, he knew what it felt like to want to physically hurt another person. Hell, to kill another person. He would gladly have ripped Scott Jenkins to pieces for touching Julia against her will.
Later, when he realized she’d willingly gone to the bedroom with Scott, he’d been eaten alive with jealousy. The only man he wanted in her bed was him.
Somewhere along the line his little Julia had blossomed into a true beauty. Her wavy chestnut hair framed a heart-shaped face and emphasized her large whiskey-colored eyes. Her body was every man’s wet dream with firm, large breasts, a narrow waist and shapely hips a man could grab onto as he plunged into her.
Despite the unexpected revelations of that night, he continued to fight his growing attraction to his sexy romance writer, dismissing it as a passing fancy, a strange quirk of fate. For all intents and purposes, she was an innocent and his sexual desires needed an experienced woman, one who could handle his darker appetites. Jules did not fit that bill.
Unfortunately, the women who could handle him in the bedroom, women like Bridget, were complete bitches out of bed. For the last few years he’d managed to convince himself he preferred his eligible-bachelor status, hopping from one casual, sex-only relationship to another, while getting the female companionship he craved from his best friend, Jules.
Every now and then guilt would get the better of him and he’d convince himself he was being selfish with Julia, trying to keep her in a little box—his own exclusive friend, his own private fantasy. She would make a hell of a wife for some lucky bastard, even if it couldn’t be him.
He tried more than once to set her up with other guys, but at the last minute, he’d panicked and found the worst possible man for her. After forcing her to endure several mismatches, he didn’t have the stomach to try any more blind dates for fear one of his setups might actually take.
Unwilling to risk losing her, he stopped trying to convince her to join the real world. Keeping her busy with deadlines and their Thursday-night pizza dates, he allowed her to convince him she was happy with her life as it was, which in turn, allowed him to hop from bed to bed attempting to satisfy his heavy-handed sexual urges.
Then the damned cat died and he watched his best friend fall apart.
For the first time since he’d met her, Jules stopped writing and Ross realized something else.
He was in love with Julia Martin.
This quirky, intelligent, shy, inquisitive little romance writer had stolen his heart. When he stopped to think about it, she’d stolen it ten years earlier when she’d walked into his dingy little office and struck a book deal with the tenacity of a pit bull. Shy she might be, but stupid she was not.
Over the years, they’d fought long and hard over the development of her craft and he had to admit that of all the writers he had edited and published, Julia’s work was by far the best.
No longer willing to deny his true feelings for her, he was about to put into action the game plan he’d designed a couple of months ago. He was going to claim Jules as his own and all he had to do was open her up to her sensuality, her passion.
The erotica suggestion had been the first test. Ross had suggested she try to write a new genre, then gave her books to expose her to all the types of things he wanted to try with her. One evening, four weeks earlier, had set in motion the chain of events leading to this moment.
He could still recall every word of their conversation that night…
It nearly killed him to wait until their Thursday-night date to see what she thought of the books he’d given her to read. When he arrived, her face was flushed and she seemed to be having trouble breathing. Glancing at the end table, he saw a copy of one of his favorite BDSM books, Master Lover, lying there.
Gesturing to the book, he cleared his throat. “So, what do you think?”
His Jules was nothing if not painfully honest. “It’s amazing,” she replied. “Do you think there are people who really live like that?”
Ross nearly came in his pants at her forthright question. “Yeah, I’m sure there are.” He shifted slightly before sitting on the couch, adjusting the jeans, which had suddenly become too tight.
“Would you live like that?”
Ross choked on the beer he was drinking.
“Sorry,” she said, grinning sheepishly. “That was an unbelievably personal question. Don’t answer.”
Unsure what to say, Ross grabbed a piece of pizza, using the time to stall and think of a way to respond, a way to keep the conversation going, without giving himself away.
“I don’t think I would like living like that,” she added between bites and Ross’s heart fell to his shoes.
The test was over and he had failed. He wanted to be with Jules more than anything, but any relationship between them was doomed. There was no way he’d be able to hide the darker side of his sexual nature.
Eventually, he would want her tied helpless on the bed. He would want to spank her, control her, fuck every part of her body—her ass, her mouth, her pussy—and according to her, she would balk, reject the idea.
“I mean,” she expounded, unaware of his sudden desolation, “it might be fun to try in bed, but I don’t think I could subscribe to the lifestyle. I’m too set in my ways and there is no way I could let some guy order me around all day, telling me how to dress, where to go, stuff like that.”
The Hallelujah Chorus began playing loudly in Ross’s head. She was willing. He didn’t want the lifestyle either. His Jules was intelligent and independent and he loved her that way. The green light to proceed flashed.
All systems go.
“Dinner’s ready,” Julia announced, dragging Ross’s thoughts back to the present.
So far his plan had gone like clockwork. She had agreed to try her hand at writing an erotica book and when he suggested she come here to write in solitude, she didn’t blink twice. He’d intended to give her a few days to struggle over starting the book before stopping by to see how she was doing, but the blizzard sped things up. And not necessarily for the worse.
Now he and Jules would be snowed in for days with no chance of escape. All he had to do was convince her that, in the interest of research, perhaps the two of them should try some of the things she was going to write about. His backpack was filled to the brim with sex toys and he intended to introduce her to every one of them.
The meal passed in quiet conversation, the two of them comfortable dinner companions after so many years of friendship.
“How many dinners do you think we’ve eaten together?” she asked casually.
Ross chuckled. “I don’t know. Three, four hundred? And amazingly enough, your cooking never gets any better.” He stabbed another bite of charred ham, waving it in front of her face.
“Ha ha,” Julia answered. “You would think after so many dinners, you’d wise up and stop asking me to cook.”
“Why do you think I designated Thursdays as pizza night?” Ross asked smugly, then deftly dodged the piece of flying ham she flung at him in response.
He rose and grabbed her hand. “Come on. Let’s go sit by the fire.”
Before dinner, Ross had thrown on a pair of gray sweatpants and a faded navy blue T-shirt. Julia admired the way the pants hung low on his hips, yet she couldn’t erase the image of him earlier—shirtless as she knelt in front of his enormous erection. She’d never seen him in anything other than his jeans and a T-shirt on Thursdays, or the Hugo Boss designer suits he wore to the office.
Seeing his muscular, bare chest with honest-to-God washboard abs still had her libido doing somersaults.
How they were going to coexist in this cabin for who knew how long was beyond her. She hoped for her sake he would keep his clothes on and limit his dressing to the bathroom, lest she make a fool of herself by drooling.
She was also fairly certain the size of his penis was something she would see in her dreams for the rest of her life.
My God.
How could any woman take something that size inside her?
Just the thought of it sent shivers down her spine and she felt an unusual dampness seeping between her legs. So much for ignorance is bliss. Julia suspected this new knowledge of Ross’s generous bounty was only going to cause her even more sleepless nights fantasizing about something that could never be.
Julia started for one of the soft chairs in front of the fireplace, but Ross intercepted and pulled her down with him to sit on the soft bearskin rug. As night fell, the cabin suddenly seemed very romantic.
Attempting to distance herself from the fact she was sitting so close to her hunky best friend, Julia forced her mind to other subjects. Perhaps a cabin like this could be the setting for her new book. An isolated cottage deep in the mountains during a terrible blizzard. It definitely had potential.
Even now, as she and Ross were enveloped in cozy warmth with only the fire to light the room, Julia could easily envision the characters from her erotic novel in just such a place.
“So,” Ross said, lying on his side with his head propped on his elbow. Even in such an unassuming pose, Julia couldn’t help but feel overwhelmed by his presence beside her.
“How’s the book coming?” he asked, as if reading her mind.
“I’ve only been here a day, Ross. I’ve barely had time to unpack, let alone start writing.”
“Even so,” he continued, “I know you, Jules. You’ve probably been obsessing over the plotline for days. What’s it going to be about?”
Julia blushed as she considered his words. Truth be told, she had been imagining the story every night in bed since she’d read the erotica books he’d loaned her—with him cast in the role of the leading man and her as the heroine. She’d even gone so far as to order a vibrator online, although she hadn’t worked up the nerve to actually use it yet.
“Well?” he persisted.
“Ross, you know I hate it when you pressure me about a storyline. Truthfully, I haven’t decided what to write about yet. I’m tossing around a couple of angles.”
“Really,” Ross said, not the least bit put off. “What angles? Maybe I can help you decide.”
“Well,” she began, startled by his persistence. Ross never pushed for storylines. He always trusted her to script a plot completely before she asked him to help her tweak it. “I…was thinking about trying one of those…you know.” She waved her hand in midair, too mortified to tell him where her fantasy world had taken her.
“No,” he said, imitating her vague hand gesture with a grin, “I don’t know.”
Biting her lower lip, Julia scowled at him. “Ross,” she began to protest.
“Domination?” he asked. “Or maybe a kidnapping story where the woman is sold as a sex slave into a harem?”
Afraid Ross might discover how close to the truth he was coming, Julia turned her head to hide the damned blush burning her cheeks.
In her fantasy, she was his sex slave. She belonged totally to him, doing anything and everything he asked of her. Thanks to the erotica books he’d loaned her, she now had a wide array of sexual fantasies about him, far beyond the usual missionary position one she’d indulged in for years.
Her favorite one involved him tying her up and forcing her to have multiple orgasms. A purely ridiculous fantasy considering the fact she’d never had a single orgasm and didn’t know the first thing about how to have one, let alone several.
“Hmm.” He took her chin in his fingers and drew her face back to his. “What are you plotting in that delicious little mind of yours, Brown Eyes?”
“I— I—” she stuttered again. “Domination.” She blurted out the word quickly, hoping perhaps he wouldn’t hear or understand what she’d said.
“Domination. And what do you know about domination?” He sat up and slowly moved closer to her.
“Only what I’ve read,” she whispered, her gaze dropping to his lips as he moved even closer.
“Jules.” His breath was hot against her cheek. “I’m going to kiss you.”
“You are?” she asked breathlessly, her tongue sliding along her lower lip.
“Mm-hmm,” he murmured, his lips pressed softly against hers, “and then I’m going to help you do a little research for your novel.”
With those words, his lips opened against hers and his initial soft butterfly kiss took on a life of its own. His lips bruised hers in his intense efforts to possess her mouth. Julia had never been kissed with such reckless passion.
All of her previous lovers had been almost timid in the way they approached her. As if they were afraid she would break.
Ross seemed to suffer from no such fear. He used his kiss and his body to push her to her back on the soft rug, coming over her, covering her completely and leaving her feeling helpless and desired all at the same time.
Julia felt his enormous erection pressing against her hot center through her soft lounge pants as he pulled her legs apart and settled between them. Overwhelmed, she tried to draw away, if only to catch her breath, but Ross’s large hands captured her head, holding her still for his assault.
“Don’t fight me,” he said gruffly as he continued to use his tongue, lips and teeth on her mouth. “Don’t fight this.”
Domination.
The concept flitted through her mind as his words came back to her.
He’s going to help me research. Research domination.
Her heart pounded. She understood exactly what he meant to do. Ross was going to dominate her—sexually. Her too-hot-for-words, untouchable editor was going to teach her about submission. She closed her eyes. “This can’t be happening. This can’t be happening.”
“Why can’t it?” came Ross’s deep voice above her, rough with desire.
Had she said that aloud? Opening her eyes, one look at his angry eyes told her she had.
“Why can’t this happen?” he repeated shortly.
“You can’t possibly want me. I mean, you can’t want to have sex with me.” She was mortified at being so thoroughly trapped under him. He could feel the shape of her body. Surely he realized the gods had not been generous with her—or actually, they’d been a little too generous. She was too short, too chubby and too curvy. Nothing like his usual super-thin, supermodel types.
“Oh, Jules, I definitely want to have sex with you,” he answered, slowly grinding his erection between her legs again. “I would think that would be obvious to you by now.”
“No, you can’t.” She struggled to escape his hold, “I mean, look at me, Ross.”
Confused, he pushed up on his elbows. “I am, Jules.”
“No, really look at me. All of me. I’m not your type. I’m not even close to your type.”
“My type?”
“Bridget, Mallory, Susan, Trudy, Alexis, you know,” she said huffily. “The Miss America brigade.”
“Jesus, Jules. What have you been doing all these years, keeping records?”
“Get off me,” she said. “I refuse to lie here while you make fun of me. Let’s face it, Ross. The only reason you’re climbing all over me now is because I’m here and we’re obviously going to be stuck in this cabin for the unforeseeable future. I refuse to be a consolation prize or a way to pass the time. Now move!”
However, attempting to budge Ross was an act of futility. Julia glanced at his face. She would have been wiser to save her hostile words until she was free. Now she was trapped under all two hundred furious, muscular pounds of him.
“Consolation prize?” he bellowed. She winced. “Is that what the hell you think? That I want you because you’re the only woman here? That’s quite an opinion you have of me, Jules. I’m surprised you can stomach being in the same room with such an undiscriminating womanizer. The past ten years in my presence must have been pure hell for you.”
“Ross,” she began, hoping to calm him down enough to encourage him to get off her.
“God damn it, woman. Don’t you have eyes in your head? Are you so dense about men that you can’t tell when a man desires you? I get a fucking hard-on every time we’re in the same room together. You want to count how many dinners we’ve eaten together? While we’re at it, why don’t we count how many nights I’ve spent jacking off thinking about you and your pretty face?”
Julia stopped struggling, stunned. He wanted her. She made him hard.
“And another thing,” he continued, still livid, “how dare you paint me as some shallow asshole who only screws supermodels. I’d take you and your sweet, scrumptious body over twenty Bridgets any day of the week.”
Scrumptious? He thinks my body is sweet?
Still amazed, Julia didn’t even react when Ross rose, pulling her up with him. Her brain didn’t begin to function until he dragged her over to the bed with him, where he promptly sat, pulling her facedown over his lap like a recalcitrant child.
“Wait,” she cried. “What are you doing?”
“Research,” Ross replied, somewhat calmer than before.
“What kind of research?” Her struggle to rise was futile against his strength.
“I thought we’d start with a spanking.” His voice returned to its familiar teasing lilt.
“Spanking!” she shrieked. “Stop joking around.”
“I’m not joking,” he said so seriously she stopped moving and looked over her shoulder into his face.
“You aren’t?”
“No, Jules.” Reaching up, he brushed her hair out of her face. “Nothing I want to do to you will be a joke.” With his words, his left hand drifted down her back until she felt him tugging at the waist of her pants.
“Ross, wait.” Julia resumed her struggling. “Can’t we at least talk about this?”
“Why?” he asked earnestly. “Can you really say you don’t want this as much as I do?”
She couldn’t. Julia stopped moving completely as Ross continued to strip away her pants. She felt them slip past her ankles and heard them hit the floor. Ross’s hand returned to her bare bottom and she winced, expecting him to hit her. Instead, he ran his callused hand over her sensitive skin.
“So soft,” he muttered. “Spread your legs, Jules.” His fingers lightly brushed over her ass.
Julia moaned at the hypnotic feeling of his hands stroking her so tenderly.
“Tell me. Tell me you want this,” he pleaded.
The magic of his hands on her body left her speechless. The fact was, she did want this. She had wanted it for years and now that it was happening, she could only revel in the marvelous feelings he was producing.
Without thought, Julia opened her legs, gasping as he dipped his hand lower toward her wet opening. Mesmerized, she felt reality slipping, giving way to the fantasy she’d dreamed of for nearly a decade.
“Christ,” he whispered, dipping his finger into her pussy, “a man could drown down there.”
Julia wiggled, trying to dislodge his hand, suddenly embarrassed by his words. “I’m sorry,” she said miserably, silently cursing her lack of experience. The fact that he could tell how much his touch, his words, his threats of a spanking turned her on was simply too much. What must he think of her?
His chuckle brought her hackles back up. “Sorry?” he said. “You’re heaven on earth, Brown Eyes, and you’re sorry for it? It’s too late for apologies and it’s too late to stop. Now hold still.”
With that, he brought his hand down upon her bottom—harder than she expected. Shock coursed through her. The pain of the blow fueled the growing fire inside her. He spanked her five more times, each time his hand hitting a different area, the pain increasing the pleasure flowing through her. Soon, she began to anticipate and even look forward to the next strike.
He shifted her to reach beneath her, his finger stroking her swollen bud, pressing lightly at first and then with added pressure, while his other hand caressed her sore bottom.
“Oh my God,” she cried, moving against his hands, trying to get closer to the magic he was performing.
“Hush. Let me take care of you, Brown Eyes.”
“But,” she said, feeling herself at the brink of something she didn’t recognize, her body shaking uncontrollably, “it feels too good. I don’t know what to do. I can’t take this.”
“Of course you can, Jules. You’re going to take everything I give you and then you’re going to beg me for more.” His light touches on her clit became stronger, his movements faster.
“No.” Julia shuddered, suddenly desperate to escape the sensations he was creating inside her. “Please stop. I told you. I don’t know what to do.” Tears began to fall down her cheeks and she quickly tried to swipe them away. She couldn’t make a fool of herself in front of him.
Ross paused briefly. “What to do? Jules, I’m going to make you come. Haven’t you ever had an orgasm before?”
“No,” she whispered miserably, trying once again to escape his hold. “I can’t. Please let me go.” She tried to move, but Ross held her down tightly, still across his lap.
“Angel,” he said, “I’m a little confused here. You’ll have to bear with me.”
“Confused?” She attempted to relax, despite the fact she felt silly in the position.
“Brown Eyes, you can describe an orgasm to perfection with words. I know—I’ve read every single one of your books. Now, I find out you’ve never actually experienced one.”
She narrowed her eyes. “I happen to have a marvelous imagination. Besides, I read and do research, you know.”
Ross burst into laughter. Julia’s temper erupted as she beat her fists against his thighs—the only part of him she could reach.
“Jules,” he said, restraining her with seeming ease, his voice laced with mirth, “I won’t tell you again not to fight me.”
“Why are you doing this? It’s humiliating enough without you laughing at me.” His continued torture infuriated her. He’d proven—yet again—that she was an inexperienced, na?ve fool.
How many more times tonight was he going to make her feel stupid, unsophisticated, unworthy of his attention?
She simply couldn’t compete with the Bridgets of the world.
“Humiliating?” Slowly, he turned her over and cradled her in his lap. “Oh, Jules, I’m not trying to humiliate you. I just want to show you what you’re missing. Look at me,” he demanded, lifting her chin to face him. “Look at me.”
Slowly, she raised her eyes to his, almost surprised to see Ross. Her same, sweet, comfortable friend Ross. He smiled at her and she couldn’t stop herself from responding in kind.
“I’ve made a mess of this, haven’t I?” he asked. “As far as seductions go, I have to admit, this has been my worst.”
Unwilling to hear Ross berate himself, Julia immediately tried to console him. “Oh no. This isn’t your fault. It’s mine. I—I’m afraid I don’t know exactly how to do all of this. It’s been a long time since a man has touched me. A very long time, I’m afraid.”
“All the more reason why you should let me help you do a little research. Otherwise how will you be able to write your book?”
“I’ll never be able to write that damn book. Look at me. I’m a sex disaster.” She tried to cover her bare bottom with her T-shirt somewhat desperately, suddenly embarassed to be so exposed.
“Not a disaster, Jules, just inexperienced. I could help you with that, if you would let me.”
“Help me how?” His earlier promise to help her research her novel still rang in her ears. Ross always had a plan and Julia shuddered to think what his devious, gorgeous mind was plotting.
“I think I’ve made it fairly obvious that I’m attracted to you. I have been for quite some time. Why don’t we work on this project together? I want you—very badly—and you need more experience—sexually. We could explore some of these things together.”
“Things?” Julia asked. “What does that mean?”
“Jules, haven’t you ever wondered what it would be like between us? We’ve known each other nearly a third of our lives. In our work and in our friendship, we’re completely compatible. Wouldn’t you like to see if the same holds true in bed?”
“So this is just an experiment?” Julia was disgusted at the prospect of having mind-blowing sex as if it were some sort of science project. She was about to refuse, but his next words stopped her.
“No,” Ross interjected quickly. “Absolutely not. I’d simply like to take our relationship to another level. What do you say?”