No. Never. Run. Leave. Go.
She crossed her arms and waited, not a yes or a no. Her nipples beaded under the push-up bra she’d worn with the little black dress. She felt ridiculous now. She’d kept the boots on, and the heels were high. The balls of her feet were on fire. Even her toes hurt. Her lungs hurt more. The real fire was there. She was holding her breath and she didn’t know why.
“Are you lonely?” The words burst out of Eden, sucking up what little oxygen was left in the room.
Eden never would have asked that question if she wasn’t still being somewhat fueled by liquid courage. Would she? Jos didn’t know. She didn’t know the first thing about Eden Rutherford other than that she shouldn’t like her.
She was a threat. She was everything Jos had never liked. Someone who didn’t have to work for anything. Someone who was cherished and loved as a child. Protected. Kept safe. Even as an adult, her parents pulled favors for her. Got powerful people to listen because they had even more power.
She was on a mission to save the world, while all the while she’d lived in an ivory fucking tower. She was headstrong and stubborn even though she’d rebelled against, what? Getting the wrong designer handbag for her birthday? She had the audacity to throw Jos’ choices back at her. She was rude and mouthy. Sassy. Annoying. She couldn’t hold her liquor despite her confidence that she could. She was going to be the one to replace Jos because she was younger. She was the new and improved Jos. The network was going to love her, and all the while Jos would be counting down her days. Worst of all, she was far too beautiful. The flawless, effortless, genuine kind of beautiful.
Before Jos knew what she was doing, she was reaching for Eden. Wrapping her arm around her waist, she angled her towards the door. One hand shot up to her throat like
a collar, but she didn’t press in. She kept her caged there against the door, which bucked into the wall in protest at the sudden movement. Eden’s eyes went wide, but they weren’t blown with fear. Her pupils were very black and very large and full of raw hunger that she didn’t bother to hide.
A whimper, soft and needy and wild, escaped her throat, and then she surged forward, her throat against Jos’ hand, her hands warm and soft, bracketing her face. She brought her closer, struggled against her until she could reach her and then her lips were against Jos’. Not unyielding, but soft and pliant, seeking, searching.
Jos kissed Eden so much harder. She scalded her lips. She was furious in her kiss, threading her fingers through the long, silky strands of Eden’s hair. It was so much softer than silk. It was like the fabric of some goddess in some faraway land. Something too soft for the touch of mere mortals. Her lips were even better. Plush. She tasted like the faint burn of whisky.
Jos didn’t know what it meant to surrender. She didn’t really know tenderness. She was the one who gave the orders, who expected to be obeyed. She handed out the pain and the pleasure and Sandy had taken it. She’d submitted. They hadn’t done scenes, and Jos wasn’t into putting a label on what she liked in the bedroom. She was scared that if people knew what she wanted, what she liked, how she liked things and why she liked them that way, there would be no coming back from it. Sandy had understood. She wanted it, craved it. And that’s why they’d worked. They’d talked about it before they’d ever slept together that first time. There was already a level of trust. They’d known what they wanted from each other.
What did Eden want? What did she like? How would she respond if Jos nipped her bottom lip? If she bit her shoulder and scraped her teeth down to her perfect breasts and kissed her there, hard enough to bruise? If she twisted and pinched her nipples? Would she understand what Jos needed? That she would only hurt her as long as it brought pleasure, and no more? That it wasn’t her pain she craved, or her pain that she wanted? Would she want to explore? Test those boundaries? Or would she be afraid? Would she look at Jos like she was depraved and disgusting?
Stop. This is a mistake. You’re not going to work together. She’s young. Mouthy. She doesn’t know how to keep private things private. Even if you liked perfectly normal, vanilla sex, she’d probably tell everyone that she slept with Jos Frank, her one-time idol.
Jos ripped away with great difficulty. Her shoulders were heaving. She stepped back, shocked at the force of her desire. She’d just touched Eden, kissed her with a hunger that rocked her to the very essence of her being. She’d put her hand to her throat like she had any right to possess her.
Eden’s eyes jerked open. “Why are you stopping?” she demanded, her voice wavering, breaths ragged. “Please don’t stop.”
The sound of the word “please” falling from her lips did something to Jos, but she wasn’t going to give in. Kissing Eden was too much. A monumental mistake. A colossal loss of control from someone who never lost control.
“I think you should go to bed now. Sleep it off.”
“No.” Eden shook her head, stubborn as ever. Her teeth worked her bottom lip, sawing furiously at it. Jos’ gaze was pulled there, and her stomach cramped. Her hands shook. Her whole body trembled. “No, I don’t want to go to bed. I want to do that again. I want to kiss you again.”
“You’re drunk. Clearly.”
“I’m not. Well, not really. I know perfectly well what I’m doing.”
Jos didn’t want to scare Eden, but she didn’t know what else to do. “You couldn’t handle it,” she snapped. “You’re too sweet.”
“What do you want to do?” Eden shot back. “Break me?” Jos nearly lost her shit right there. Eden’s mouth fell open. “Like, how much?”
“We are not having this conversation.”
“No. I want to know. Are you into that? Like chains and whips and stuff? BDSM or whatever?”
“No,” Jos growled, and that was the truth. “No chains. No whips.” Why was she talking? Why couldn’t she shut up?
“So, what, then? Clamps and toys? Rigorous physical activity?”
“Rigorous physical activity?” Jos actually laughed. “I need to write that one down. I like that.”
“If you like giving commands, or putting a hand at my throat or whatever, that’s okay. I liked it. I’ve been to clubs before. Some underground kind of thing in New York where they did things to people. Hurt them. But they liked it.”
“Christ.” Jos backed up, bumping straight into the wall. “I have never and would never try anything like that. I’m just not sweet and gentle. I’m not capable of that. You’re young and you’re both of those things. And if I kissed you again, I wouldn’t stop there, and you’re a child. You’re—”
“Twenty-six. Not a child. A woman. A woman who has desires. I’m not innocent and I’m not stupid, and I’m sure as shit not scared of you, Josella Frank.”