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  Lauren had to admit that her mom had good taste—Xairn did look fabulous in his new GQ wardrobe. Fabulous but very unhappy. He asked her several times why they couldn’t simply find a few functional pieces and leave it at that. “I have never owned this much clothing in my life,” he protested near the end of the day when Abby tried to get him to try on just one more Armani suit. “Where will I wear all of it?”

  “Mom, he has a point,” Lauren had said wearily. “He’ll probably just be helping me in my shop. That fancy suit won’t look too good once it’s coated in cake flour.”

  “Oh, all right.” Abby had thrown up her hands and sighed. “We’ll just take what we’ve already got. You can take that off, Xairn.”

  “Good.” Xairn’s voice had been almost a growl. Instead of going back into the dressing room, he’d ripped off the suit jacket and begun unbuttoning the Egyptian cotton shirt. Unfortunately, that put his chest on display. Lauren heard a muted gasp from her mother as the raised black lines of the brand came into view.

  “My God,” she whispered to Lauren, her eyes still fixed on Xairn’s muscular chest. “What the hell did you do to him, sweetheart? Why did you tattoo your name across his chest?”

  “I didn’t do it,” Lauren protested, feeling embarrassed.

  “But honey, that’s your handwriting,” her mother protested. “I’d recognize it anywhere.” She gave Lauren a disapproving look. “He’s a very handsome man and I can understand you wanting to mark your territory, but did you really have to sign him like a Christmas card?”

  “I didn’t—”

  “Lauren did not do this.” Xairn came to stand in front of them, his bare chest still exposed. Other people in the shop were staring now and Lauren could feel her cheeks getting hot.

  “She…she didn’t?” Abby faltered, looking up at him.

  “No. Another did it, but I allowed them to do it willingly, so do not blame Lauren.” Xairn frowned. “She is burned into my flesh as she is burned into my heart. I love her.”

  “You do?” Abby didn’t sound entirely happy about it.

  Xairn’s eyes narrowed but Lauren was relieved to see that they didn’t flash back to their old color scheme this time. “Would I be here, allowing myself to be dressed and undressed like some sort of doll if I didn’t love her? What male needs such a ridiculous array of garments?”

  “Xairn!” Lauren said helplessly. “Please, Mom’s just trying to get you the right clothes to blend in.”

  “To blend in where?” Xairn looked down at the expensive slacks he had on with a sneer. “A male harem, perhaps?” He shook his head and looked at Abby. “I appreciate your generosity but I am through with this. I am going back to Lauren’s living space.”

  And that had been the end of the shopping trip.

  Lauren had apologized to both of them separately but the damage had been done. Xairn thought her mother was controlling and officious and her mother thought he was some kind of a nut who was willing to get himself tattooed with her daughter’s name after only knowing her for a short time. The only consolation, as far as Lauren was concerned, was that her mother thought it was a tattoo. If she knew that the signature was a brand, that Lauren’s name had actually been burned into Xairn’s flesh, who knew what she might have thought?

  Lauren sighed and rolled over to look at the clock. Five AM. The alarm would be going off soon. If she went back to sleep now, she could get at least another thirty minutes. But her mind wouldn’t shut off. The disastrous shopping trip had been bad enough but it wasn’t the only reason she was upset. Her program of casual, non-sexual touching just wasn’t going very well.

  Oh, Xairn allowed her to touch him all she wanted to. He tolerated it when she ran her fingers through his hair and kissed his cheek and sat in his lap but for Lauren it was like loving a statue. Because though he tolerated her affection, he never returned it. He never hugged her, never kissed her, never even put an arm around her shoulders unless she prompted him to do it. And the entire time they were close, she could feel the tension coursing through his body. It was as though he was exerting all his will power to hold himself back every second they were together. Worse, it seemed like he was excusing himself all the time to run to the restroom and Lauren knew what he was doing in there. She could tell by the soft, frustrated sounds.

  They’re not sounds of pleasure, though, she thought, frowning. Instead, there was a note of pain in the low growls she heard him making when he touched himself. It was as though he was deliberately hurting himself somehow, as though the feel of his own hand on his shaft was painful. But why? Why would he do that? If it hurts, why do it at all? And why is it painful?

  Lauren wished desperately that Xairn would let her take care of him. That he would trust himself enough to let her touch him and make him come. To pleasure him as he had pleasured her. But that didn’t seem like a possibility right now—or in the future either. Apparently after his display of dominance the other night, when he’d confessed his desires, he preferred to keep his distance for fear of things getting out of hand.

  Is it really that hard for him to be close to me? she wondered, looking at his broad, bare back, bathed in shadows. Is he really fighting the impulse to…to take me every single minute we’re together? She wouldn’t let herself think the word “rape.” And she wished desperately that she had never said it to Xairn, either. It had only made him feel worse about what he wanted. A dark corner of her mind, one she kept hidden even from herself whispered, would it be so bad if he just gave in and did it?

  Lauren tried to push the thought out of her head. The idea that she might want Xairn to dominate her was disturbing on all kinds of levels. She’d been raised to be a strong, independent woman who bowed to no man. A woman who took charge of her own life, both in and out of the bedroom, and didn’t take crap off anyone, male or female.

  So then why had she felt the urge to kneel before him and call him “Master” that night when he touched her? Xairn had begged her to get up at once, but she’d seen the heat in his eyes when she did it. And hadn’t it touched off a spark inside her as well? Yes, she admitted to herself, for some reason it had.

  But what really bothered her was what had happened later. After Xairn had come back from taking care of himself and she’d confronted him about it…He pinned me to the bed, Lauren thought with a shiver that was half fear/half desire. He was so big and hot and hard on top of me. I could feel him—feel his cock pressing against me, wanting to enter me. Wanting to fuck me.

  And hadn’t she, just for a moment, wanted it too? Hadn’t the feel of his big body holding her down, making her helpless, turned her on?

  It shouldn’t though, Lauren argued with herself. That kind of thing never turned me on before. And it wasn’t like she hadn’t had experience with bondage and dominance play—she had. She’d had a boyfriend in college who was into BDSM. Or who wanted to be into it, anyway. Lauren had been willing to play along but the idea of bowing down to some man and calling him “Master” had never done anything for her. Even worse, when her boyfriend had tried to “discipline” her by putting her over his knee for a spanking, Lauren had burst out laughing. The whole situation had seemed so ridiculous, so utterly fabricated and unreal.

  But there was something undeniably real about it when it came to Xairn. The feeling that dominance wasn’t just something he wanted to do—it was actually part of his psychological make-up. Looking at him that night, with his huge, muscular frame and those gorgeous, forbidding eyes, Lauren had known it was something he had been born and bred for. Even if Xairn didn’t want to acknowledge it himself.

  If I could only get him to act on those desires, those impulses…no, what am I thinking? She sighed. That would be much too dangerous. Xairn’s afraid of what he might do if he let himself go. Wouldn’t it be smart for me to fear it too?

  But despite the promise of danger—or maybe because of it—she couldn’t stop wanting to experience more of his dominant side. Couldn’t help wishing to be pinne