Read Online Freeing the Beast: Taming the Beast, Book 1 by Tina Donahue - Free Book Online

and used, fighting the leather restraint on his wrist while she was on the other side of the door, trying to console Heather, not him.
    “I’m all right, really,” Becca insisted.
    “But you’re naked,” Heather cried.
    “Look, I’m getting dressed. Okay?”
    No, it wasn’t. Eric wanted to see Becca’s plush ass, lavish breasts and every other damned inch of her for as long as he wanted. The same as what she’d done with him, insisting he undress, screaming at him to keep his eyes closed while she mixed that shitty-tasting potion.
    Secret ingredients, his butt.
    He hadn’t been born yesterday in any sense of the word. Becca had wanted a chance to stare at his stuff. He hadn’t argued at all, giving her exactly what she craved. If anything, that made him accommodating to a fault. The problem that had brought him here.
    No more. He was through with being polite.
    Heather kept whimpering, seemingly on the verge of tears. “Oh no, your top’s torn.”
    “Not that much. See? The ties still work.”
    “But it’s ripped. Did he do that?”
    Eric made a face. She made “he” sound like a four-letter word.
    “No,” Becca said. “I did.”
    Heather gasped. “But why?”
    Because your boss couldn’t strip and crawl on me fast enough, all right? That had been pure passion. No way did Eric believe Becca behaved that way with her other clients.
    Did she?
    Doubt crept in. On a muttered curse, he shoved it away. It pushed back, flooding his brain with all kinds of crap.
    He regarded her champagne flute. She’d said it was Crystal Light. Had she added something that made her horny so she’d be stoked for sex? Eric couldn’t figure out why she’d have to prepare for that, unless he wasn’t enough for her and there was a clause about it in his contract.
    She’d left it on the sink’s counter.
    He finally freed his ankles and left the table so quickly he fell, his left leg and all of his weight thudding on the floor.
    Heather squeaked, “What was that?”
    “Nothing. Go back to work.” Becca rapped lightly on the door. “You okay in there?”
    You , not Eric, as though he was a complete stranger even after the orgasms they’d given each other.
    “What do you think?” he growled.
    She stopped pacing. “Do you need any help?”
    From one of her weirdo staff? It seemed unlikely that Becca would offer him a hand, boob, nipple, clit or anything else he wanted. “Nope. I’m great. Just like you promised in the contract. Page seventy-three, I believe. Right below my initials.”
    She tapped her foot.
    It matched the noise of a pointer hitting a teacher’s palm before she swung the thing at a problem student.
    “Well, good then,” Becca said.
    Eric caught the screw you behind it. Hadn’t she already done that by running out of the room?
    “It’s what you wanted,” she added, her accusation pouring through the door. “Zoe will get you a receipt. Have a great day.” Her heels clicked as she hurried down the hall, leaving him alone, used and bruised.
    Rubbing his battered thigh, Eric went to the counter. A quick scan of the contract told him there weren’t any clauses in it about her having sex with him as a condition of the treatment or for any other reason.
    She’d wanted him and then she hadn’t, and then she’d seemed pissed about it. As though it was his fault she couldn’t get away from him fast enough. No different from every other woman in his life, which put him right back to where he started.
    Except this time, Eric intended to find out why.
    Becca faced her office window, watching today’s first wave of tourists. Mainly families with little kids who jumped rather than walked, their tiny voices squealing, fingers pointing at stuff they wanted their parents to buy. Junk that would make them happy.
    She tried to recall when life had been that simple.
    A time when it didn’t matter if a little girl wasn’t beautiful and slender, or if a boy didn’t measure up to whatever society dictated of