Taming her, p.1
Taming Her, page 1
Taming Her
Lily Harlem
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Afterword
More Stormy Night Books by Lily Harlem
Lily Harlem Links
Copyright © 2021 by Stormy Night Publications and Lily Harlem
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.
Published by Stormy Night Publications and Design, LLC.
www.StormyNightPublications.com
Harlem, Lily
Taming Her
Cover Design by Korey Mae Johnson
Images by Shutterstock/PJ photography and Shutterstock/LightField Studios
This book is intended for adults only. Spanking and other sexual activities represented in this book are fantasies only, intended for adults.
Chapter 1
Griffin Dix swung the patrol car off the main road. “Can you believe those guys?” he chuckled.
His partner Rex was still laughing. “That was the weirdest breakdown call out we’ve ever been to.”
“I mean.” Griff, still smiling, shook his head at the memory. “You’d think they’d get changed out of their show outfits to travel.”
“The ringmaster said they were on a tight schedule. Can’t say I liked the clown though.”
“You got a thing about clowns?” Griff glanced at Rex. “A big tough guy like you.”
Rex feigned a shudder. “Creepy.”
“I know what you mean. Luckily he didn’t cause a crash standing on the side of the road like that. The trapeze artists looked freezing in those little leotard things.”
“Cute though.” Another bout of mirth burst from Rex. “I liked the yellow feathers on their butts.”
Griff joined in the laughter. The Magnificent Marvel breakdown had been a bit of light relief in their night shift. The circus performers though tired were high-spirited after a good show. One even offered to show Griff and Rex their knife-throwing skills, which Griff hastily declined.
“Well, they’re on their way to Hereford now,” Rex said, “horses included.”
“Did you ever go as a kid? To the circus?” Griff asked.
“Yeah, years ago. It was good.”
“Me and my sister loved it.” Griff stopped at a set of lights, his memory going back to childhood. “I seem to remember her threatening to run away and join the circus.”
“And what act was Bethany planning on delighting the crowd with?”
“Plate spinning, she said. I love my sister but she goes through crockery. It’s a family joke.”
Rex chuckled as Griff pulled away. “And what would you do?”
Griff thought for a moment. “Fire eater.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, I don’t mind playing with fire, keeps life interesting.”
“Gets you burned.” Rex laughed but he was interrupted with the radio beeping.
“Disturbance reported. City center.”
Rex flicked his coms on. “Six fifty-one. Heading there now. We’ll take it.”
“Landlord of The Blood Hound called it in.”
“We know where that is, will give an update when on scene. Over.”
Griff brought the blue light and siren to life. “Won’t take us long to get there.” He hit the accelerator, the powerful car pressing them back in their seats with the acceleration.
Within minutes they’d pulled up outside The Blood Hound. A tall brick-built pub with high windows. At one time it had been a locals’ drinking pub, now it was a trendy hangout with the occasional live band.
“Doesn’t look too wild,” Rex said, slamming his door then rolling his shoulders.
“You never know, there could be tightrope walkers in there.” Griff grinned and slipped the patrol keys into his pocket. He tapped his belt, a habit to check he had his cuffs and baton.
Pushing thoughts of the last job from his mind, he concentrated on the task at hand. Being a police officer in Bristol meant every shift was different. He loved that, thrived off it. He couldn’t imagine doing anything else.
Inside the air was hot, the music loud.
The crowd stepped out of their way as the two officers went deeper into the large room.
“I guess it’s that group over there.” Rex nodded to a table in the corner.
“Ah, yes.” The group of girls was raucous. One stood on the sofa, high heels digging into the leather as she waved a cocktail around. The table was littered with bottles and glasses.
It was then Griff saw her.
Ava Sontag.
His breath caught.
Ava Sontag was a wild and beautiful creature and although he hadn’t seen her for eight years he remembered her well. Very well.
She effortlessly drew people into her giddy, breathless world. They were like moths besotted by a candle.
It was clear nothing had changed since they’d been at college together.
Still she commanded adoration, was by far the sexiest woman in the room, and her magnetism was irresistible—men and women craved her attention… in this case even her drunken attention.
Griff looked at his partner and raised his eyebrows. “What’d you think?”
“Yeah, high as kites. No wonder the landlord called it in.” Rex spoke into his phone. “We’re at The Blood Hound, no backup required.”
Griff agreed with Rex’s summation. They could deal with a group of excitable women. Of course being in police uniform meant he had to follow police procedure, he couldn’t take Ava in hand for her obviously bad behavior quite how he’d like to, but there it was… the law. He was the law.
“I’m glad you’re here.” A tall, slim man with a goatee approached. He twisted his hands together. “Desmond Tate, general manager here at The Blood Hound.”
Griff nodded in the direction of the eight cackling females. “That’s them, is it?”
“Yes, a hen night, they’re always the worst.” Desmond tutted.
Griff’s attention left Ava to scan the other women in the group. They wore short sparkly dresses, were dolled up to the nines, and had plastic tiaras perched on their heads as they knocked back flutes full of bubbles. One, a blonde, appeared to be the bride-to-be. Her tiara was covered in droopy condoms and a pink sash stating Last Night Of Freedom was draped over her right shoulder.
Thank goodness it isn’t Ava getting hitched.
Griff had no idea why he felt a sense of relief, but he most definitely did.
“I wouldn’t normally call you guys,” the manager said, “but I’ve asked them to keep the noise down twice, and now other customers are complaining. They need to take a hike.”
“You’re a Bristol city center bar. Things get noisy on the weekend.” Griff’s gaze landed on Ava again.
She had her head thrown back, laughing hard. A friend to her right collapsed against her bare arm, skin to skin, as if she couldn’t get close enough.
An annoying stirring tugged at Griff’s groin. There was no point denying his soul-twisting crush on Ava Sontag. All through college he’d admired her until finally in the last term he’d plucked up the courage to ask her out.
To his amazement she’d said yes. A wild, heart-pounding romance had followed. He’d drunk her in, soaked her up, wanted to be with her, inside her, at every moment of every day. He’d been permanently drunk on love. She was an obsession that ate into every fiber of his being. When he wasn’t with her he was planning how to be with her. When he slept he dreamed of her, even if she was there in his bed, in his arms.
Life had been good, more than good; he’d existed in his own erotic version of paradise. Until, that was, she’d run away.
She’d moved onto the next town. He’d been dumped by a text.
“We’ll have a word, see if they respond, if not, we’ll kick them out for you,” Griff said.
“Thanks.” The manager turned away.
Rex huffed. “You’d think we had nothing else to do on a Saturday night. A group of squealing women, surely the bar staff could deal with this and if they can’t they need to employ bouncers.”
“Yeah, well, keeps us employed.” Griff swallowed, his throat a little tight and his mouth dry. His emotions were swirling now that he was approaching Ava—a combination of longing, anger, curiosity, and excitement.
He was glad the call had been made even if Rex wasn’t. Perhaps he’d be able to get some closure, finally. Then his consciousness could put to rest the ache in his heart Ava had left there and he could consider committing to one of the many women he played with at Cauldron.
“More bubbles,” one woman shouted as she hopped down from the sofa then began filling up glasses, splashes flying. “After that the good stuff.”
“Shh,” the bride said, drunkenly pressing her fingers to her lips. “That’s a secret.”
A few customers glanced up at Griff and Rex as they maneuvered through the maze of chairs and tables.
“Hey, Sandy, you pr
“Hell, yeah!” the bride replied. “But I told him, he plays with mine, I play with his.”
A deafening hoot threatened to burst Griff’s eardrums. He winced and came to a stop on the outer edge of their circle of low-backed chairs.
“Fuck, wouldn’t let no chick play with my asshole,” Rex muttered.
Griff held in a smirk and folded his arms, knuckles pressing against his biceps. The women in front of him were in their own substance-fueled world. They hadn’t appeared to notice the two tall uniformed police officers standing at their sides watching them.
“Hey, didn’t we order more bubbles,” the woman to Ava’s left cried, upending an empty bottle and ramming it in an ice bucket. “Waiter!” Her attention landed on first Rex, then Griff. “Oh, look, ladies! The strippers have arrived.”
What the fuck?
All attention turned to Griff and Rex. False eyelashes lifted around widening eyes. A few women flicked hair over their shoulders, licked lips, and puffed up their chests so their tits pressed against their party dresses.
Griff’s focus settled on Ava.
She’d done none of those things, just raised one perfectly arched eyebrow and allowed the right side of her mouth to tilt, the way she always had when something vaguely amused her.
Did she recognize him? Griff wasn’t sure. Back in the day he’d had a thick dark beard, proud to be able to grow one, and now he was clean shaven. He’d been big then but he’d bulked up further since; a free gym at the station made it easy to work out.
“Oh, you guys, I told you not to bother.” The bride stood. “But hell, I’m so glad you did.” She cupped her breasts and made a show of hoisting them up. “Okay, boys, I’m ready for ya!”
Another squeal of laughter.
“And,” she went on. “There’s two so we can all get a good eyeful… or handful if we’re lucky.”
“Not strippers, ma’am,” Rex said.
“Don’t play coy with us.” The bride lurched toward him, hiccupping. “Just get that uniform off. We wanna see what you got beneath it.”
Rex sidestepped, then grabbed her elbow when she stumbled. “You need to quieten down or leave the premises.”
“Yeah, where we going, Officer? Back to your place?”
Giggles erupted.
“I don’t think my wife would be too pleased about that.” Rex snatched her wrist when she went for the handcuffs hanging around his waist.
“She’ll soon be a wife herself, go on, give her a last bit of fun.” A woman in a tiny black dress stood.
Griff kept one eye on her, the other on Ava who was watching the bride-to-be with her slightly amused smile still tugging her glossy pink lips.
God, those lips. He remembered all the things she’d done with them, from kissing to sucking his cock—a particular talent of hers.
He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, irritated that his dick was stirring just from being close to her. Breathing the same air as her.
“Sit down, gorgeous,” the woman in the black dress said, her boozy breath hitting Griff full on. “And I’ll give you a lap dance to get this party started.”
“That won’t be happening.” Griff tore his attention from Ava.
“Okay, well, I’ll sit down and you can strip to your thong and do whatever it is cops do to naughty girls.”
He set his mouth in a firm line and placed his hands on his hips. “We’re real cops, ma’am, and you’ve been reported for breaching the peace.”
“Oh, you’re so realistic, so bossy, I love it.” She lunged for him, her hands grabbing his belt buckle.
Before Griff realized what was happening, Ava was at his side too, also grappling with his belt.
Fuck.
Her perfume slid into his nose; even over the whiff of alcohol in the room, he knew straight away she hadn’t changed her preference from Chanel No5. The damn smell was an aphrodisiac, bringing back a maelstrom of memories that ramped up his heart rate.
He grabbed both her slender wrists in one hand and did the same to the other woman, his fingers locking tight as he drew their arms up. “Stop, or you’ll be under arrest for assaulting a police officer.”
“I’d like to get under you,” Ava cackled, her attention on his eyes.
He stared into hers. Her pupils were pinpricks, which made him angry. What the fuck had she taken? And there was a glaze to them. He’d bet money she wouldn’t remember this whole incident tomorrow.
It was also clear there was no recognition there. It was as if she’d never seen him before—as if he hadn’t given her countless orgasms that had had her gasping in pleasure.
“Ladies, ladies!” Rex hollered.
The music turned down. The conversation around them dulled.
The bride-to-be froze. “Shit, you really are cops.”
A tendon flexed in Rex’s cheek. “Yes. Now what’s it going to be? You sit down and turn it down, or leave?”
She burped, covering her mouth with her fingers. “I don’t feel so well.”
“So we’ll leave.” Ava tried to snatch her wrists away from Griff.
He released her.
“That will solve your damn problem, right.” She glared at him.
Much as he’d like to tip her over his knee for a good spanking, turn her peachy little behind bright red, he knew that wouldn’t go down well with his boss. Heck, not with the other clientele in The Blood Hound either. And he didn’t like to think about the reams of paperwork a stern spanking would involve.
The fleshy part of his palm tingled with the thought of doling out a swift punishment. He wasn’t a pushover anymore, a hormonal teenager consumed with love and lust, eager to please the girl who’d caught him in her web. Now he was a fully grown man with a dominant streak he hadn’t been able to ignore after Ava had left. Who was he kidding? He was a fully fledged dom. It was part of his makeup, his core. He’d accepted it.
The urge to have the woman in his life, the object of his affections, submitting to him was non-negotiable. But it was a two-way thing; in return for obedience he’d always ensure maximum satisfaction, safety, and his adoration whether it was for a night or a few months.
A few months. Fuck. That was the longest relationship he’d had since Ava. She really had ruined him for all others. And now here she was, stooped in front of him and showing the crease of her butt to all and sundry as she gathered her purse and jacket.
Little wench deserved the cane for wearing such a provocative dress and skimpy underwear. It wasn’t sensible. Some men were pigs and would take that as a sign she wanted sex, then they’d take advantage of her drunken state and give it to her whether she wanted it or not.
Heat flared up his spine, making his scalp itch beneath his peaked cap. Had she no concept of her vulnerability?
Clearly not.
She stood and turned, then had to grab a table when she tottered to the left.
His instinct was to reach for her, but her friend grasped her first, linking their arms and tottering between two chairs.
“Are you sure you don’t want to take your clothes off, Officer?” The brunette slinked closer.
“No sex on duty, ma’am.”
“Aw, make an exception.” She giggled. “I promise you’ll enjoy it.”
“Good, they’re going.” The manager appeared at Rex’s side.
“Yes, and the sooner the better before we have to search their purses for illegal substances.” Rex glowered at the group of lingering girls.
“Shit.” The brunette grabbed her purse and a shawl. She reached for the bride-to-be’s hand. “Come on, we have to go now, party’s over.”
“It certainly is,” the manager said. “And I’ll be adding a cleaning bill to the credit card.” He pointed at a ruby red stain on the sofa. “And don’t tell me that was there before, I have photographic evidence.”
“Miss ya, wouldn’t want to be ya.” Ava threw a wave into the air, then walked from the club with her hot ass swaying.
