She looked the way almost every female wanted to look—like a model out of a lingerie catalog. Everything society told her was attractive in a woman.
One of the cords was hanging from her wrist, and she glanced at it, then shook it off just as she was shaking off the thought about the lingerie models.
The house was too quiet, and belatedly, she recalled the raging cry she’d given out when she’d climaxed. Was now the time for some embarrassment?
No. She still couldn’t sink into it all the way. Why should she anyway, when this was what her body had been made for? She’d only started realizing it now, with Callum. And, God help her, she wondered what would happen tonight with him if this was just a warm-up.
Exhaling, she peeled off the slippers, stockings, then the negligee, giving all of them a wistful glance before leaving them on the bed. She got back into her regular clothes with almost a sense of regret.
To think—she regretted dressing instead of undressing with this guy. Her world was totally upside down.
After grabbing the phone he’d given her and looking both ways before entering the hallway, she decided that no one had been around to hear her give that banshee-sex yell earlier, and she went back to her room, shutting the door behind her.
She itched to call Margot or Dani but decided against it. Maybe for once in her life, she could enjoy her secrets, keeping them to herself since she’d never really had any before. But as she went to her window and looked at the afternoon sun, she wondered what she could do now to top the experience she’d just had. It was still hours before dinner.
Should she relax and watch the flat-screen TV in the room? Pick up the house phone and have someone prep the spa room for her, even if she wasn’t sure what was in that spa room? Wander around the house and snoop? Yeah, that’d be polite. Besides, she suspected that this house had no trace of Callum, so there wasn’t much use in going Sherlock on him.
How about the pool, though? Couldn’t she use a good turn in the hot tub?
Let Callum watch her strut out there in a bathing suit. That would get him pumped up for more....
Digging into her suitcase, she came out with a demurely flowered two-piece bikini and a purple cover-up with flip-flops. After fixing her hair into a loose bun, she grabbed a towel from the bathroom and stepped into the dim hallway again.
She guessed where the pool was based on its location relative to the “nookie room,” as she’d come to think of it—the room with a view and a whole lot of stories to tell after today. But just as she came to the wrought-iron pool gate, she paused, suddenly hit with a question.
The blindfold...Callum not wanting her to see him. Was it possible that he was scarred somehow and that was why he wasn’t showing himself?
She almost laughed that off. Melodramatic much?
But then a far more realistic question came on its heels: Was she the first woman Callum had played these games with?
Now, that made her feel...well, ridden hard and put away wet. He’d made her feel special on their dates, and to think that this might be his typical M.O. with all women was disheartening, to say the least.
When she got to the hot tub, she easily found the control panel, letting the water bubble to life, dipping her toe into it.
Her skin sang, reawakened by the heat, making her remember all too piercingly what Callum had just done to her.
Or not done.
No matter, she thought, taking off her cover-up and flip-flops. She’d just gotten to the ranch. He had to be saving the best for last.
As she recalled his hands on her, a wave of brave hedonism took her over, and she looked around. Nobody was here. But was Callum watching?
She thought of the bindings, the dress-up clothes, the feather and the blindfolds. He was into some real kink, that much was obvious. And she wanted some of that, too.
But she was outside, in front of God and country. Did she have the guts for some of her own kink?
Why not?
She stripped off her bathing suit top, tossing it carelessly aside. Then, with a purposeful look at the house, her gaze locking on what she thought was the nookie-room window, she stepped out of her bottoms.
Take that, Callum, she thought, reveling in the feel of sun over her bare skin. She even got a little extra naughty and stretched her arms over her head. It was a beautiful, warm day, and she was feeling sexy. She was feeling watched...and liking it.
Then she entered the sunken tub. The water swirled around her feet, her calves, her thighs.... When it lapped at the middle of her legs, she bit her lip, staying there for a moment, imagining Callum.
His mouth, on her, nibbling, sucking....
With a tiny groan, she eased all the way in, breathing a satisfied sigh.
Only in southern California could she be in a hot tub in November, she thought. Only with Callum could she be so wicked.
A sense of loss pricked her at the notion of this being so temporary. She wished...
What? That she could always be with him?
That wasn’t their deal.
Just relax. Enjoy. Have the biggest adventure you’ll ever have right here and right now.
Leigh sat back and luxuriated in the water, listening to the tumble and flow of it.
She didn’t even know Callum was there until she felt what was becoming a familiar sensation by now—a blindfold sliding over her eyes.
“Shhh,” he said.
“Callum?” Duh.
He rested his hand on the sensitive area between her throat and shoulder, and she melted.
“It occurred to me,” he said in that voice, “that you might need some finishing to what we started. So I came down here to do just that.”
8
WITH THE WATER fluttering at her skin and the blindfold over her eyes again, Leigh was caught in his net, drowning in his sensual suggestions, lost in the erotic darkness he brought her every time he blindfolded her.... However you said it, she was a goner.
“Were you keeping an eye on me from the house?” she asked.
“Would it make you even wetter if I said yes?”
She was already there, her clit stiff and beating.
“And what would you tell me,” he said, his mouth close to her ear, “if I wanted to film you this time?”
Leigh didn’t know what to say for a moment. She was filmed all the time for her show, but this wasn’t remotely the same. He wanted her naked on film, recorded for the ages. Her common sense told her no, but she was far, far beyond that.
She said, “Why would you want to do that?”
“Why would any man?” He laughed, disturbing the stray wisps of hair by her ears with his soft breath. “Looking at you makes me crazy, Leigh, and to look at you again and again while you’re coming? That makes me even crazier.”
This was crazy. Then again, it wasn’t. Maybe this was how she should’ve been all along—insanely deviant, deliriously craving him.
“Yes,” she said, just as she always said to him. She wasn’t even sure where she would draw the line anymore, because she loved the thought of making him happy. It made her happy, too. If there was ever a time when it didn’t...then she would draw that line, but not before.
His hand tightened on her, and she wished she could see his face. But all she could do was imagine dark hair and hungry brown eyes.
Then he left her for a moment. He was setting up the recording device—a smartphone? A tablet? A digital camera? Whatever it was, she was about to be the star.
Number one in his world for this short time.
Even as that thought made her heart sink again—why, when leaving him was inevitable?—her ears picked up another sound.
Something being
poured into the water?
When she smelled flowers—bubble bath?—and then felt a foamy cloud brush by her, she knew she was right.
“I said I wanted to pamper you,” he whispered, his lips next to her ear again. “How about a little of this?”
She felt something soft and cushiony on her shoulder, and she pictured everything: his big hands holding a pink sponge; his nails, blunt and smooth as he gripped it; his skin, tanned. He still smelled like leather, and it made her senses tilt.
He took his time with her, bathing her neck as she leaned her head back. Wiping over her upper chest as she relaxed to the sound of water trickling from the sponge. Rivulets streamed down her skin, tickling her.
“Found a dirty spot,” he said, going lower, slipping the sponge below the curve of her naked breast.
She reared up at the contact, her nipple pebbling painfully. “I think all of me is a dirty spot around you.”
He laughed again—she loved that she made him do that—and he washed her thoroughly, taking care with both her breasts especially, then rubbing her stomach and slipping down farther.
When he got to her achiest part, she was terribly ready. Her legs parted as he slid an arm down and around her waist, lifting her up so that she was kneeling on the cement bench underneath the water.
Bubbles frothed against her thighs, adding an extra layer of pleasure while he massaged her between the legs with the sponge.
“You were frustrated when I left you earlier,” he said against her ear. His words were like a vibration that ate its way to her belly, threatening to make her come again. “You wanted more.”
“Did you mean to leave me that way?” she asked.
He didn’t say anything, just pressed the sponge up and against her clit, making her whimper. When he circled there, her hips shifted with every movement.
Finally, he answered. Sort of.
“I’m going to give you more, Leigh. You’ll just have to wait a little longer.”
One of his hands was cupping her breast as he continued to work her between the legs, and she leaned her face against his arm. The material of his shirt was wet, and she would’ve given anything to have seen how the cotton plastered against his skin. She also would’ve died to bring him into the tub with her, but those weren’t the rules of this game.
And if anything, she was getting to be such a good player.
Heat was rising in her like a push of restless water, and she was getting close...so close....
When he took the sponge away, she protested.
“Shhh,” he said again. “Just wait. It’s all about the waiting.”
Was that how he rolled? Making his women wait until he was ready?
Just as she was about to say something to him about it, she heard a humming sound.
And when he slid a long, smooth object down her arm, she knew what it was...and that it had to be waterproof.
First he took the vibrator and swept it ever so gently over her nipple. Just enough so that it was like a whisper, a mere shiver.
“Callum,” she said, asking for more in other places, places that were weeping and hurting and...
He pressed his lips against her ear, then sucked her lobe inside his mouth, warm, wet, swirling his tongue while submerging the vibrator under the water and over her belly.
And did he know the right place to use it—just above her mons. She quaked inside, not knowing how much longer she could last.
The combination of him sucking on one of her biggest erogenous zones and the vibrator down in taboo territory was making pinwheels of color revolve on her eyelids, and she slipped down into the water. The only thing holding her up was his arm.
“Not yet,” he said, still pressed to her ear. “A little longer....”
She made a sound of desperation, but he was cruel, taking the vibrator and resting it at the very center of her, between her folds, over her clit.
The vibrator had nubs, causing sweet friction, and she heaved in a breath and grasped for the edge of the tub.
Too much. And too little. She wanted him inside her. Wanted it so badly.
Tiny bangs in her belly were counting up to an orgasm, but somehow he was stretching her out, definitely making her wait. Yet she was close to begging him for it. She wouldn’t do it, though—that was probably why he was playing this game with her, wanting to see if she begged.
Instead, she pressed her face against his arm even harder, biting—not enough to break skin, but enough.
Of course, he laughed, but he sounded surprised, too. Just as turned on as she was.
“I think that means you’re ready,” he said.
She wondered if she would always be, just for him.
When he eased the vibrator up and into her, the buzzing sensation made her cry out. Instead of biting him, she was digging her nails into his muscled arm, grinding her hips as he moved the length in and out of her.
“Damn you,” she said against him. “Damn you.”
If he said anything in return, she didn’t hear it. Her hearing had been blocked by the thud of her pulse, which mocked the one deep in her core.
Boom...boom...
In and out, humming, making her shiver inside with prickles that were building into an enormous shudder.
Boom, boom...
Her body felt as if it were starting to fall to pieces, dusting apart like sparkling debris.
Boom, boom—
As she banged all the way apart, she felt as liquid as the water, becoming one with it while she fell down, down into its embrace.
When Callum brought her out of the water with a giant sucking splash, she gasped for air, clinging to him.
Just as much in the dark as she’d ever been with that blindfold still over her eyes.
* * *
LIKE LAST TIME, he disappeared as stealthily as he’d appeared. But unlike last time, he’d caressed her and held her as she recovered.
Still blinded by the material over her eyes as well as her need for him. Still addicted.
There hadn’t been much to say afterward, only some awkward laughter while she joked about the force of her orgasm. Then she’d made as much small talk as she could.
“What’s next?” she’d asked. “That’s up to you,” he’d said. And she’d mentioned something about going to the stables to pass the time until dinner, which she would let someone else make for him tonight. Maybe she’d do breakfast for him?
All the while, she’d been hoping he’d tell her what he wanted next. Naturally, he hadn’t. He kept her in the dark in more ways than one.
Before he’d left, he’d done something curious—touching her face with his fingertips, as if memorizing this moment.
But why would he do that when he had it all on film?
After he’d gone and she’d taken off the blindfold—not before the five minutes he’d asked her to wait had passed—she’d dried off with a towel from the pool house. Then she’d gone to her room, where she’d dazedly put on some jeans, a long shirt and her boots.
Was she only one of many girls who’d gone through this with him before? She couldn’t stop thinking of that, couldn’t stop wondering why it was starting to matter more and more as this date went on.
But that was the wrong approach to take, wasn’t it? Callum had given her something she’d never expected when she’d auctioned off that basket: some confidence. She still wasn’t sure she could always keep off her weight, but why did it matter with
Callum? He’d never see her in person if she gained those pounds back and she would never witness his reaction. In the end, she decided, he’d at least given her some light inside of herself. She could shine it on the person she wanted to be right here, right now.
She could do anything with him and never regret it.
After going downstairs, she headed in the direction that Callum had instructed her to go earlier before they’d said ta-ta. When she saw the stables, she felt like her old self again and not the pampered guest that Callum had made her: she was the girl who loved horses and who went for long rides when she was at home.
It didn’t take her long to find a beaut of a mare in the stalls—a paint with big dark eyes—and she fell in love right away.
“Hey, darlin’,” she said, reaching out her hand and allowing the animal to sniff it, getting to know her.
Footsteps sounded behind her, and she backed away from the stall to avoid spooking the horse. Callum had sneaked up on her earlier. What if he was doing the same thing now?
She turned around. A man was standing near an office door, leaning against the frame with his Stetson tilted back on his dark head and his gold eyes gleaming. His skin was a rosy-tan hue, as if he had some south-of-the-border in him, and...
Leigh’s pulse jittered just looking at him. A tall-drink-of-water cowboy, right here in front of her.
Callum?
But then he spoke, his Western accent thick, his voice not Callum’s at all. “That’s Bessie Blue. I think she’s taken a shine to you.”
The man stuck out his hand, coming toward her to introduce himself.
“My name’s Adam,” he said.
* * *
HE WAS GOING to hell for this, wasn’t he?
But after Leigh had let him know that she intended to visit the stables, the idea had slammed into Adam, and he’d run with it.
Would it really do any harm to take their date a twisty step further? What if he could meet her one time only, face-to-face, as a regular guy? It’d be the only time, and then he’d go back to being Callum.
Mystery Date Page 11
