“Like hell we do. Let… Me… GO!” she said through clenched teeth, finding that it was far easier to bask in fury than wallow in sorrow.
He considered her, shoving her stuff into her bag. “The cuffs look good on you. Now, I can either carry you out of here, or you can leave with me quickly and quietly. Your choice. And you’ve got ten seconds to decide, or I’ll make the choice for you.”
“You wouldn’t dare.”
His friendly gaze shuttered into that of a stern task master, leaving her chilled to her core. “Try me.”
Sabrina stewed over her choices. He had her purse, which held her keys, her phone, and her damn clothes. She was chained up in his office, and he held all the cards. She doubted the police would say or stop anything if he did as he threatened.
Still, on principle alone, she couldn’t, wouldn’t, cave to his brow beating. Her night had already been bad enough. She had failed to make the money that would keep a roof over her brother’s head. And it was all Dante’s fault. If he’d left her alone, she might have been able to get caught up on rent.
“Screw you,” she spat.
“Have it your way,” he replied with a deep, tired sigh, and did exactly as he’d promised.
The only thing she hadn’t factored into her equation in thinking she might have a chance to get away from him, was that he had a reserved parking space for his big black Escalade right out the back of the club. Nor had she factored in that he was going to keep the handcuffs on her. Or that, when he got her into his vehicle, he would attach a chain to her cuffs which was connected to a loop on the floorboard.
Sabrina knew all about his lifestyle, that he was into some pretty heavy duty kink. She cleaned his penthouse, the offices, and state-of-the-art personal gym on the fourth floor, as well as the private rooms of his exclusive kinky club. You learned a thing or two about a person when you cleaned for them. And if she was a mite intrigued by the furniture and what went on there, she ignored it, and had done so for going on two years now.
“You’re an asshole,” she snapped as he climbed into the driver’s seat and tugged his seatbelt on.
Dante just laughed and, with a shake of his head, said, “You’ll revise that statement before the night is over. I’ll be your fairy fucking godmother before bedtime.”
She snorted and glanced out the passenger side window. If he was her fairy godmother, she was the Queen of England.
Chapter 4
Dante drove his Escalade through the streets of downtown N’Awlins intrinsically aware of his passenger, who was currently stewing in her seat. Anger radiated from every supple line of her killer body. Well, he wasn’t all that pleased with Sabrina at the moment either. After the day he’d had, she was one more messy complication.
But perhaps a necessary one that would end up being a gift from the heavens.
Sabrina had been cleaning for him and Michael for two years. In all the time he had known her, he had kept Sabrina at arm’s length, as he did with all his employees. He maintained a strict hands-off policy with people who worked for him. No dipping his wick in the company ink, not for him or for Michael. That way led to ruin.
But that didn’t mean he’d not been aware of her. Sabrina was all woman: curvy, petite and, to his mind, downright fuckable with her tiny waist and slender legs. She had really great legs.
And he’d felt like he had been hit upside the head with a frying pan when he spied her on stage at Bayou Sin. Deep down, he’d known she would be splendid without clothes on. But he hadn’t been prepared for the golden goddess, her high, firm breasts swaying, her pale rose nipples which were perfectly formed and should be adorned with clamps, and the expanse of sun-kissed, smooth skin that glowed beneath the spotlight.
He’d been hard the moment his gaze landed on her. And rage unlike anything he had ever felt before surfaced.
Dante was not averse to female flesh, nor to women displaying their wares. Hell, he’d built the best strip joint on one of the busiest party streets in the world around that enterprise. But when he’d spotted Sabrina on the stage, he’d experienced a wave of protectiveness and an urgent need to shield her, to blind any man who sat in his club, leering at her, with a vicious possessiveness he had never felt for a woman before. And it was all because, staring at her golden splendor, he had imagined what it would be like to suck on her succulent tits for hours, and feel her writhing beneath him.
“Where are you taking me?” she asked with a hint of fear in her voice.
“She speaks.” He hated her fear. The fact that she didn’t know he would cut off both his hands before he’d hurt her.
“Dante, I’m serious. This is ridiculous. Why did you take me off the stage like that? What business is it of yours if I decide to make a buck taking my clothes off? And stop dodging the questions, where are we going?”
“It’s not the place for you.”
“Then I’ll find another one. I don’t see you having an issue with all the other women who work at your club.”
“Sabrina, like I said before, I will ensure none of the other strip clubs hire you. I know all the owners. And we’re heading to the penthouse.” Some of the strip club owners didn’t have his hands-off policy, and liked to sample the merchandise. Like hell would Dante allow her anywhere near those joints.
“Why? Am I that unattractive? I realize I might have been a little unschooled, but that’s no reason for you to do what you did back there.”
He heard the uncertainty and insecurity that she tried to hide behind her bluster. It made him soften: her display of bravery when the quiver in her voice spoke to the contrary. “Love, if I thought for one second that stripping was for you then I wouldn’t have interfered. But you forget, I know you well enough to know that it’s not the life for you.”
“You can’t know that. Just because I clean for you, doesn’t mean you know me.” She huffed.
He threw his vehicle into park in his space in the enclosed, private parking garage. “I do, more than you realize. You’re kind, thoughtful, and a hard worker. But stripping is not for you.”
And that, he figured, was that on the subject matter. They had more pressing things to deal with, and he did believe they could help one another out. He rounded his Escalade and opened the passenger door. Unhooking her cuffs from the chain, he helped her out.
“So I’m not good looking enough, is that it? You couldn’t have just told me that after I finished, and let me walk away with a smidgeon of dignity?” she stated mutinously after he shut the door.
It was the sheen of tears lining her lashes that did it. Gripping the cuffs with one hand, he yanked her bound hands above her head and, with his body, pressed her back against the vehicle. Her eyes widened, her bottom lip trembled.
“Let’s get one thing straight, love. Every single man in Bayou tonight wanted to fuck you the moment they spied you, myself included,” Dante growled.
She rolled her eyes as if she didn’t believe him.
“Don’t believe me? I’ll show you.” He fisted his free hand in the wealth of her silken golden tresses, tipped her head back, and crushed his lips over hers. Dante planned on kissing her quickly, just to prove his point. He wasn’t an inexperienced youth with his first woman, but a well-seasoned Master known for his control.
Yet he hadn’t expected her plump lips to taste quite so sweet, or anticipated what the sound of her moaned gasp would do to his system. It tripped all the wires in his brain that allowed him to maintain control, and unleashed every single one of his primal urges. She whimpered against him as he slanted his mouth and demanded