F*ck Toy: A Dominatrix Enemies to Lovers Romance Read online

  At least he’d given her a head start—with his help a day of intense study might be enough to keep her safe. Besides, the busywork could keep her mind in the right place and off of any thoughts of the ex. She could admit—begrudgingly—that she kind of couldn’t wait to see Noah in a tool belt, shirtless, and a little dewy with sweat. His verbal banter wouldn’t hurt as a distraction either. With a long exhale, she shoved the thought into a little box, readying herself for the oncoming storm.

  * * *

  Noah had never purported to be the shining knight on a white horse—far from it, if his past memories were any indication—but there was something about Chloe that completely dismantled him. He still hadn’t figured out whether he liked verbally sparring together, or whether it was only going to disappoint her that much more when he mucked it up with a clumsy tangle of his tongue. Sure, in the beginning he figured it would be fun to have company at the house. But after talking to her he may have bit off more than he could chew.

  He caught himself watching her while she studied the white board and shifted until he was looking at the bookcase. For now, it seemed like he had the upper hand. She was staying. A private burst of pleasure made him squeeze his toes in his shoes as he rocked backward on his heels. Good to know he could still woo someone into spending time with him. For the most part he looked after himself. Didn’t see many people but his sister and a few select family members and friends. Silence was a blanket that soothed him the way nothing else would or could in life.

  The fact that he’d wanted anyone with him this trip was odd. When Chloe’s mother had sent her reservation email and it had hit his inbox, Noah had trashed it. Clearly the woman or her assistant hadn’t read the website enough to glean the hours of operation. But over the course of the day he kept swiveling back around to the computer. His curiosity won out. He’s pulled the email back up and pursued Chloe’s profile knowing full well Chloe hadn’t written it. No one wrote in perfect cursive anymore or scanned in a printed application versus filling the complicated check-in paperwork online.

  The picture the forms painted, well, she’d seemed fun. If not a little quirky and clearly a handful. He’d impulsively sent back the retreat’s standard reply. Truth was, he hadn’t thought a thing about it until he got another email confirming the dates and times as well as a direct money order deposited into the retreat’s account. No going back after that and when shifted his hands into his pockets with Chloe’s light voice rambling on behind him he knew maybe he hadn’t made the wrong choice.

  Maybe. So long as he kept everything on the surface, he was pretty sure everyone would make it out intact or that was the plan. Plans rarely panned out. Yet he still stumbled over what had made him do something so unlike him in the first place. Maybe loneliness, everyone got lonely, once in awhile. A flashback pried at the edges of his thoughts, until his throat was tight and he swallowed in a deep, choppy breath. The room closed in on him, tight, and too short. Not now, not here. A fight for composure as his hands turned to fists in his pockets. Soon it would be done. The worst of it would be over while he focused on anything but his tightening chest, skipping pulse. He checked over his shoulder. Chloe was still reading a manual for the electric drill.

  He only needed a little more time. The flash of remembered laughter cut through his thoughts, deep, harsh, and guttural. Until goose bumps crawled up every inch of his body.

  No, his father wasn’t here.

  He mentally shook himself. Stay in the here and now. His thoughts were often a deep, dark rabbit hole that dragged him down until he was so scrambled he could barely communicate. The secret was to stop thinking. Which led to a lot of awkward blurting out and rambling and impulsive dick moves, but it was better than the alternative.

  The less control he had the better it was for everyone involved—less thinking, less screwing everything up. If he kept himself untangled for the time Chloe was there everything would run smooth.

  One step at a time, until he learned to be a real, normal boy.

  Chapter Four

  “Polly and I took care of the safety supplies, batteries, and everything else in the construction kit before she left this place two or three weeks ago. We don’t have to worry about any of that.”

  “Should that give me some measure of comfort?” Chloe asked while nibbling on the top of her pen she’d been using to mark notes and instructions in her journal.

  “Well, I thought you’d be pleased that you wouldn’t have to put your freshly manicured fingers to work lugging two-by-fours. You don’t seem like the Little House type.”

  Chloe shot him a look and scribbled down some more notes.

  “Where are we starting on the house?”

  “Well, it’s not just weatherproofing the house. There are a lot of little projects, too. Simple ones, for a person that might want a hand in getting the lay of the land. Like painting, anyone can paint.”

  “That didn’t answer my question.” She smiled and continued nibbling on the tangy plastic between her lips.

  “Do you always have something in your mouth?” Noah quipped and feinted to the side as she vaulted up and tried to swat him in the ass with her notebook.

  She cackled in triumph as he rubbed his hip through his jeans with an easy, half-smile.

  “Try that again, next time, will ya?” she taunted settling back into her swivel chair with a smack of her notebook against her legs.

  “You ready to concentrate now?”

  “But—I—”

  He leaned back against the desk with one leg over the other and his arms crossed. A playful, disapproving look flitted across his face. Noah even slid his wire rimmed glasses halfway down his nose. Talk about a school teacher fantasy come to life. Jesus, her hand clamped over her mouth, as if she’d spoken her thoughts aloud. Her cheeks heated and she imagined she was turning the less than flattering shade of strawberry lip gloss she used to wear in high school.

  “Acting again, right?”

  God, she hoped her emotions weren’t naked on her face. Not when there were other thoughts of nakedness rampaging through her brain as she tried to find the stop button to no avail. Stupid celibacy rule. Interacting with Noah wouldn’t be so much trouble if she’d broken her ex’s damn commandment to wait for all sexual contact until they were reunited. For Eric that had included standing up Miss. Palm and her five daughters as well as keeping Chloe away from doing the two-fingered tango.

  Of course, if she’d broken the pact, it wouldn’t have been with Eric. So then maybe she’d need a time machine so she could catch Eric cheating earlier, hop in bed with someone else, and leave the guilt from breaking her vow early behind.

  The chastity promise was probably his sick way of keeping her chaste and wifely, while he dilly-dallied behind her back—and now her lack of anything sexual was biting her in the ass. Luckily, the thought of Eric made her stomach lurch. Hard to be magnetized to Noah’s— undoubtedly gorgeous—unseen abs when she was swimming in previous guy drama. What a piece of work she was, such a catch.

  Maybe her mother hadn’t been far off with the funny farm treatment.

  “Hello? Mothership to Chloe? You there or is there a break in transmission? Because I don’t have any experience in bringing back patients from a catatonia. That’s Phil’s job and he’s not coming back until the fall.”

  “Sorry.”

  “I was asking which you’d rather start with, the pipe work, or weatherproofing the three decks out back.”

  “The second one.”

  “Thought that would be your pick. Stand up, please.”

  She shrugged and did what he asked, but didn’t move an inch from the chair.

  “Hey, so, thanks for taking care of me last night. You didn’t have to do that and I appreciate it.”

  “Sure.”

  His one word answer exuded gentleness. Maybe it was the soft-spoken respect behind it, like he wouldn’t have dared do anything else. Two large steps and he was in front of her, so close she sharply
inhaled and her fists clenched tight behind her back. She actively avoided looking at him. Too close for comfort. Her focus scattered as she tried to ignore him, looking everywhere in the room. Tension threaded and wound tight through every muscle and she wanted more than anything to step away from him—but she sure as shit didn’t want Noah to know exactly how vulnerable one little movement had made her.

  “It really wasn’t a problem.”

  “Mmmhm,” she replied, weighing her options, trying not to look weak in the face of so much male muscle.

  “Hey…”

  His hand cradled her chin and she jerked back, almost tripping before his arms cinched around her waist anchoring her against his firm chest. With a yelp she planted her hands on his shoulders, unable to do anything else. She scrambled to stay upright, their gazes locked.

  Why hadn’t he let her go the minute he sensed she’d gained her balance? She fumbled for words. But there was nothing as his thumb slid along her lower back in small, smooth strokes as if he were trying to calm her down. But it only served to set her whole body on fire while time stood still and she weighed the merits of pulling away. Whether he would let her go at all.

  A smile barely brushed his lips. His hands tightened on her waist, fingers twisting in her cardigan. Without too much thought, her fingers mirrored his tension resting on his shoulders. Beneath her palms he was warmer than she thought possible. He must have been burning up in his sweater. Which begged the question—what would he look like without it?

  “That could ha-ha-ha-have been bad,” he stuttered and she watched his Adam’s apple work as he swallowed hard.

  “Yeah.”

  That was all that came out of her mouth. She processed his cocky swagger crumble to an endearing affect that made her pulse slide into overdrive. His face lit up, beet red, as he blinked behind his glasses. Her fingertips traced the foreign lines of his collarbone. She couldn’t bring herself to break their sensual embrace.

  They’d never been close enough for her to notice his scent—like ink and citrus. The odd mixture suited him. His nostrils flared as she continued tracing him with her thumbs. But he hadn’t drawn away. Flat against him, Noah wasn’t tense, only watchful with his strong, unbreakable grip above her hips. How much longer would they stray into this land of intimacy? One of them had to have the willpower to pull away, before this went way too far. Chloe hadn’t been dragged to the beach house to have rebound sex with a stranger for three days. An hour ago she wanted nothing to do with men, but she couldn’t bring herself to pull away when she was chomping at the bit for any kind of touch.

  Yet, Chloe couldn’t check her urge to go on tiptoe, inviting his kiss with a firm squeeze to his shoulders. That’s when he broke away like he’d been burned. Noah must have cleared three feet away from her and she was left with a stone weighing down her stomach. Okay, so that went badly. Think.

  “Uh…” he said.

  Think. Think. Think, damn it!

  Chloe bit back a noise of hurt. Yeah, that’s the last thing he needed—a mental case chick who couldn’t check her own impulses while she was in rehab for being a relationship ditz. Although, he’d started all the flirty-flirty.

  “So, don’t I need some kind of safety gear or something?”

  Voice only a little bit like Minnie Mouse—she could work with that.

  Noah nodded and spun marching out the door.

  * * *

  She’d made no comment. Not a single joke, laugh, or snide remark. He moved blindly through the house feeling as if his head was going to float off his body. His body still bristled from his expectations—the inevitable end result of his stutter and he ran a hand through his hair. A low breath later he rested against the banister on the top floor living room.

  “Why the hell did you move out of the way, you dingbat?” He said under his breath while his fingers tightened on the banister behind him.

  When she’d moved in, all but inviting him to kiss her, he’d wimped out. Practically hightailed it out of there as if even touching Chloe would give him frostbite or something. He squeezed the banister trying to shake his trembling, but there was no other way to react to her hinting when he was still coming to grips with her reaction to his deformity. It wasn’t that he didn’t want her, come on, that was obvious. He just had to look the gift horse in the mouth first.

  Noah groaned and cracked his neck. What the hell was wrong with him?

  Which was worse acknowledging his stutter and getting it out in the open or glazing over it altogether, as if it wasn’t a glaring black mark? His face heated and he paced the cheap carpet uncaring if he wore holes in it. Did he want to kiss Chloe? Stupid question. Next. Hell, if he had kissed her well enough he was pretty sure he could erase all memory of his screwup and give him enough time to play with that he’d make a better impression. Until he did it again. She just made him so…so…nervous. Even admitting that made his gut twist until he licked his lips and took a restless seat on the couch.

  “Get. Yourself. Together.”

  It was his fault that it had been an embarrassingly long time since…yeah…since that had happened. Even admitting it in his own head was pathetic. There was no way to salvage the moment. No way to storm back in there, clasp her to him, and plant one on her until she was trembling and breathless. Noah didn’t have it in him. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. God, it wasn’t for lack of trying—the image was seared into the back of his brain. He could almost feel her soft lips pressing against his own in surprise before she gave in and took his mouth completely and with no mercy.

  But then he lost himself too. Until she plunged her tongue into his mouth and he gave himself up to her petite body as he wrapped around her body like a vine to a tree. The vivid imagery nearly knocked him flat out. One second they were locked in an embrace that made her thick and hard thinking about it, and the next she was shoving him down on his knees with one pale, petite hand. Her face was unreadable, a twinkle in her eye that made his mouth dry up as he tried to keep his breathing steady, but breathing in her light floral scent with every second.

  Noah groaned, fisting his hands in his hair. This was absolutely absurd, what the hell was wrong with him? He forced his eyes open and blinked away from the images playing across his eyelids like dirty movies only for his enjoyment. Every guy fantasized about women, but this, this was different. He shook his head. Blinked. Tried to get a grip on reality while stalwartly ignoring the aching hard on in his jeans. Even reaching into his jeans to adjust through his boxers made him bite back a low moan that sizzled up his spine.

  There was something about Chloe. Something. He yanked his hand out of his pants and glanced down the stairs, as if she’d come up them any second and see him. The idea of going back down there made him bristle. Would she see everything he’d laid out in his skull despite the fact that he was locking it down? Noah bit his lip and grumbled an inarticulate stream of frustrated nonsense. Sure, it had been awhile in the bedroom department…but, Christ, that imagery kicking up in his head! He could still sense her fingers running through his hair, prickling his scalp—before she yanked his gaze upward to rest on her simpering smile.

  Noah shivered, every muscle in his body tight with confusion.

  He’d had fantasies…but never like these.

  What the hell did he get himself into?

  * * *

  At least she’d be given a small respite from his presence. With her small chunk of privacy she leaned against the chair and clutched her chest. As if it would stop the incessant pounding of her heart. Good God, she’d seen good chemistry, but their simple touch? What in the hell was that? That was beyond anything she’d ever felt before—and she wasn’t too shy about sliding home as long as the guy’d deserved it.

  When she heard his unmistakable rolling, barefooted gait, she straightened up and pretended to glance over her notes.

  “Here,” he cleared his throat and his tongue poked the inside of his cheek. “Here’s everything we’ll be workin
g with for the next couple of days.”

  He plopped a large handful of construction gear on the table beside her and adjusted his sweater, tugging it down. She turned to examine the pile. As predicted, the majority of it looked foreign except for the work gloves, hard hat, and tool belt. With trembling fingers she picked up the aforementioned object and attempted to fit it around her waist. But the snap wouldn’t click into place. Damn, useless, shaking fingers. They’d be lucky if she didn’t get vengeful with the saw and cut them off later.

  She mentally cursed and gave the belt another shove.

  “Let me help.”

  He waited, as if wanting her approval before he touched her again. Chloe nodded. Noah blinked before taking the tool belt. Even as he fitted it to her waist she recalled his muscled forearms—so much more stabilizing and safe than this stupid contraption meant to keep tools from tripping a person.

  His fingers finished around her waist as the final click of the belt threaded through the catch and signaled to her that Noah would step away. And he did—but there was a slight moment of hesitation.

  Enough of a beat that her thoughts flew into complete chaos.

  “We should get outside. We’re losing light.”

  Chloe didn’t mention that the antique clock with tarnished swirls and curlicue’s behind his head read ten o’clock—because she couldn’t even speak before he was out the door of the office.

  Thank God, they had something else to keep their mind occupied and their hands busy for the duration of her extended stay.

  “You handling yourself okay over there?” Noah called down from over the deck railing above her head.

  They were interconnected by a maze of wooden steps that zigzagged up along the side of the house. It’d been a long afternoon of moving furniture onto the sand, sweeping surfaces of debris, and spraying cleaning solution all over everything. Well, everything with wood anyway. Thank God, that didn’t include Noah. He’d been very careful to stay pretty much as far away as possible the whole afternoon.