Rave. The one she loved...and dreaded all at the same time.
All of which was to say, she needed to climb, to be up high, to look down on the pretty earth and to design from this new vantage point the perfect plaza for the new building. It should be something that was green and growing, white with shimmering water and gracefully silver with steel.
A masterpiece. A wet dream.
To silence demons.
“I have to go up. I have to, Tom.”
Even if it kills me.
Tom turned helpless to Phil.
“I ain’t doing it,” Phil gave the final word. “None of my union boys, neither.”
“I’ll take her.”
All eyes turned to the giant in the denims and plaid work shirt. He had long dark hair, in waves over the tops of his ears and down his powerful back in a heavy braid. His eyes were coal black, steady as the night. Liandra’s heart skipped just a beat. The image of a bat fluttering came to her mind, perhaps it was the pure V of his physique, the lean waist angling to massive shoulders.
There was no hiding the muscle that lay underneath that work shirt and jeans. Any woman’s first instinct would be to rip them off—assuming she had a pulse at all.
Yes, it was about sex, but there was more, too.
A presence. A sheer power that went far beyond his heavy work gloves and boots. Could Tom and Phil sense it, too?
“Who asked you?” Phil pounced. “Mind your own damned business and get back to work, Virgil.”
Virgil...his name was Virgil...
Virgil didn’t flinch. “The woman wants to go,” he said. “Why shouldn’t she?”
Liandra’s pulse was racing. Something about having this man’s attention, let alone his passion focus on her was a little more than she could bear. The way he’d called her a woman, not with male disrespect, but with a sense of mastery.
“I’ll fight my own battles,” she said, her voice a little strained.
“You’ll fight nothing,” Phil told her. “Except the cross town traffic out of here. And you,” he pointed to Virgil, “I’m not telling you again; get back to work before I pink slip your ass.”
Virgil shrugged, putting on his hard hat. “Suit yourself, boss.”
“Wait,” said Tom. “Hold on just a second.”
Virgil waited.
“Phil, I know it sounds crazy, but why not let the man take her up for a minute?”
Phil’s eyes widened. “You’re crazy as she is.”
“Five minutes,” Tom bargained. “And she’ll follow all safety guidelines. Safety harness, the works.”
“I will protect her,” Virgil weighed in with a solemnity that made Liandra swoon. “She will not be harmed.”
“You heard him,” said Tom. “It sounds like a no brainer to me.”
Liandra could kiss Tom for standing up for her and for realizing how important this was to her. As for getting her this particular chaperone, she was anything but pleased. She didn’t want to feel dependent on him, she didn’t want to owe him.
“Tom, maybe we should let it go.”
“Let it go?” Phil practically leered, having moved over the edge of exasperation into sarcasm. “And break up you and your new boyfriend? Perish the thought.”
Liandra flushed. Did Virgil think this was something...sexual?
“Phil, that’s enough,” said Tom.
Phil threw up his hands. “I give up. If anybody wants me, I’ll be in the dinosaur pit, since that’s where I seem to fit in.”
Off he went, muttering about women on scaffolds and the whole world going to hell in a hand basket.
“Phil’s really a decent guy,” said Tom, who’d known Lee since her first year as an architectural intern. “Just a little set in his ways.”
“I know. Um, Tom, can I talk to you a sec...alone?”
“Sure, how about after you come back down?”
Lee swallowed. She wanted to talk to him now. She wanted to head this thing off at the pass.
“I’ll help you with the harness,” said Virgil. “If you’ll come over here.”
Liandra found herself following, almost meekly. He took her to the open construction elevator. The harness was heavy canvas with buckles.
“Place your hands over your head,” he said. “Please.”
There was firmness in his voice, something that her body could not help but respond to. Raising her arms, she was acutely aware of her vulnerability. A female could be tied or chained this way.
He moved in close. His chest was a wall. He smelled of sweat and fresh air and musk. She could barely breathe. Closing her eyes, almost unconsciously, she let her wrists cross each other...as though bound.
Virgil cleared his throat.
She popped her eyes open. Oh, god, had he noticed what she’d just done?
“I admire your courage,” he said as he wrapped the canvas around her waist.
“It’s...it’s nothing really.”
The buckles snapped into place. Liandra felt the growing moisture between her legs. If this man should want her lips, if he should pull her close...
Her nipples tented under her t-shirt. They wanted to be played with. They wanted to be pinched, evaluated...hurt. They wanted to be there for this man’s pleasure, whatever he wanted.
His cock must be huge. Did he order women to suck it? Did he have a girlfriend? There wasn’t a wedding ring on his hand...
“I’m not married,” he said, noting her eye on his finger.
Her mouth dropped open. “I...”
“Don’t be embarrassed,” he put her at ease, warming her to the bottom of her toes. “We’re human. We’re inevitably curious.”
In that instant she melted. She wanted to fly on his wings. What lands would he take her to?
There was a second strap just under her breasts. She tried to keep her breathing even. This man could whip them if he wanted...
“Are you ready?” He drew the belts snug, his eyes bearing down with a combination of concern and wonder.
“Yes,” she whispered. She was ready all right, and not just for the elevator.
“Are you scared?” he asked as the elevator began to ascend. He wasn’t taunting, nor was he patronizing so she answered him honestly.
“I’m frightened half to death.”
“Would you like to take my hand?”
Yes...oh god, would she...
“I’m...not sure it’s appropriate,” she hesitated.
He pursed his lips. “You plan to live your life for other people’s opinions forever?”
Liandra grasped hold of him. His hand was large and capable, kind and warm...and impossibly strong. “Does that answer your question?”
He smiled, just a slight curl of his lips. Her toes tingled. Had she made him happy, just a little?
The elevator lurched once or twice on the way up. If you could even call it an elevator. More like an exposed cage, some wood on the side, no door, a plywood floor. Nothing beneath them but ground, with nothing to protect them from a fatal collision with it. How did these men do this day after day? And she wasn’t even out on the girders, swinging like a cowboy, riding the mammoth steel beams into place, floor after floor.
“This harness will keep you safe,” he said as the elevator reached the end of the line. “Even if you fall. But you won’t fall,” he assured. “You’re with me.”
“I’m counting on that.” She smiled grimly. “Cause if I don’t make it, I’ll haunt you from beyond the grave.”
His lips angled upward, a wisp of a smile, sexy as hell. She loved his darker coloring, the sharp angles of his face, the rawness of his features that made him seem real and naked in a way no 21st century man could be, at least not a white man.
“I don’t think I’d mind being haunted by the likes of you,” he rasped.
Her heart swelled. Was he flirting with her?
Nah, she had to be reading too much into it. She always did. These iron workers had a strange sense of humor.
&nbs
p; “Ready?” he asked.
She focused on his eyes. “Yes,” she said, filled with an inexplicable sense of trust.
“Give me a minute to tie off the harness,” he said, taking the cable. She watched him work, looping it about a beam under his feet and clipping it onto the hook at the end.
He was cool and capable, totally confident...and the way his ass filled out those jeans...
Liandra adjusted her hard hat. Ahead she could see the beams, dropping off into blue sky. The wind whipped through the elevator. The sun above was naked, close enough to touch.
Her last chance to turn back.
“It’s alright,” he reached for her. “I promise.”
She took a deep breath and grasped his hand. He helped her walk out onto a small platform.
Oh, god, it was straight down.
“See?” he encouraged. “You’re doing it.”
She squeezed tight. It was...exhilarating.
“Can we walk out a little further?” she called out over the wind.
“Sure,” he smiled. “Why not?”
He had her go in front. Stepping off the edge of the platform, onto one of the beams. Just one thin blade of steel. If her foot should slip, she’d swing straight off. Would the harness really save her?
Several men were working on a beam just below. They stopped to watch.
“Virg, are you crazy?” called a craggy-faced man with a short gray beard. “What the hell’s she doing up here?”
“Same thing as you,” said Virgil. “Living.”
Liandra was grateful he wasn’t making her feel like a freak. What was so ridiculous about a woman wanting to do such a thing? There had to be women iron workers by now, for heaven’s sake.
“Damned fool Injun,” shouted another man, a large muscular black man with a sleeveless t-shirt.
The man was grinning. Virgil grinned back. “Right back at ya, you crazy Zulu.”
The black man laughed, apparently it was a joke between them.
“Had enough?” Virgil asked her.
“A little further,” she grimaced, sounding every bit like a woman with something to prove. “And don’t stay so close to me. People will think we’re dating.”
“Suit yourself.” Virgil backed off, leaving her to the wind.
It was glorious. She laughed out loud. Balancing her feet on the beam, she put out her arms like she was flying. If only she could. She’d just plunge from this height and soar off into the distance.
How easy...
She closed her eyes. This was her moment.
Liandra wasn’t aware of beginning to fall. The scream seemed to bring her around. Hearing her own voice like a stranger’s, she jolted. The world was slipping out from under her. She’d leaned too far. She could hear her father laughing, the crack of the wind, Rave spitting into her face.
Liandra pushed off, trying to catch her balance. She was in the air. No one will save you, girl, no one cares, fall into the pit and die.
A second of agony, world crushing, and then...
Virgil. Grasping hold of her, pulling her tight against him, belly to belly, his waist solid, his arms like steel, stronger than the girders. Not caring what it looked like, she wrapped her legs around his waist.
There were whistles and cat calls from the men. Virgil didn’t laugh. He let her bury her head against his shoulder. “You’re safe,” he murmured in her ear.
A second later, she was back in the elevator, having been deposited on her own two feet.
They rode down in silence. Liandra’s heart was still pounding a million miles a minute. Emotions ran through her, fear and shame, confusion...and desire.
Tom was waiting. “Lee, are you all right?”
“Told you it was a damned fool thing to do,” Phil was right there to slam them.
“I’m fine.” Liandra was pale, slightly nauseous and in some serious need of time to think.
“You,” said Phil to Virgil. “You’re fired.”
“You can’t do that,” Liandra protested. “He hasn’t done anything wrong.”
“I’d fire you, too,” Phil growled. “If you worked for me.”
“Come on, Phil,” said Tom. “We don’t want to be hasty.”
“Don’t sweat it,” said Virgil. “I’ll hit the road.”
He handed Phil his helmet. “I’ll pick up my check next week.”
“Don’t bother,” Phil shot back. “We’ll mail it.”
Virgil winked. “Sorry, no address.”
Liandra’s mouth hung open. How could a working man have no address? He couldn’t be homeless...
Phil shook his head. “Ask me if I could care less...”
Virgil didn’t ask. He just nodded to Tom and walked off.
Liandra watched him go, her feet frozen to the ground. She wanted to follow, but to do so would be tantamount to trotting after him like a love sick school girl. She’d never live it down.
But to let him walk out of her life...forever?
That was unacceptable.
“Virgil, wait.” She had to run to catch up to him.
He was already at the edge of the construction site, about to go through the gate. “What is it?”
“I...I didn’t get to say goodbye.”
“Say it, then.” His face was neutral, not unkind.
“Good...goodbye.”
He opened the door in the wooden fence.
“Virgil...”
“Yes?” He had an eyebrow up. The look just slew her.
“M—may I buy you something to eat?” she stammered.
“I’m not a charity case,” he said.
“It’s...not charity.”
“What is it, then?”
She squirmed. How hard was he going to make this?
“I’d like a chance to thank you.”
“You just did.”
“I’d like to really thank you with a meal.”
“Not necessary.”
“I’d like to,” she insisted.
He pursed his lips, in that way of his. “Desperation doesn’t suit you.”
“Who says I’m desperate?” she demanded.
“It’s obvious. Do you really not see it yourself?” he asked.
“No, I’m afraid I don’t,” she declared. “Sorry I wasted your time.”
“You didn’t,” he said, totally deflecting her attempt at sarcasm.
“You know,” she told him. “You’re a pretty exasperating man.”
She expected something witty back. Instead he said, “You’re not collared, why?”
Shock mixed with raw terror. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I think you do,” he said, speaking with a confidence that was not to be denied. “I think you know exactly what I mean.”
“So what if I do?” she defied.
Virgil shrugged. “I don’t play games.”
“Wait, please, don’t go.”
He eyed her, his lips pressed, expressionless.
“You’re...you’re a dominant, aren’t you? You’re into BDSM?”
“I’ve had slaves,” he said simply.
Liandra quivered in her panties. He didn’t play games...he owned slaves. What would it be like to belong to a man this strong, this indomitable?
“Is there some place we could go and talk?” Liandra whispered.
She tensed, remembering Rave’s answer in the same position.
We can go, but not to talk.
“What would you like to talk about?” said Virgil.
She lowered her eyes, unable to meet his gaze. “I—I’m not sure.”
“I don’t go to bed with girls I just met,” he informed her. “And I most certainly don’t dominate them.”
Liandra turned crimson. “I’m not a whore...”
“I didn’t say you were. I think you’re a good and honorable woman, but you are very vulnerable, and I would not take advantage of that.”
“I have changed my mind,” she tried to salvage some measure
of pride. “I don’t want to talk to you.”
“Suit yourself.”
“Prick,” she muttered.
“Excuse me?”
“You won’t give an inch, will you?”
“No,” he said.
Liandra swallowed. “I’d like to go and talk with you,” she said softly.
“I would like that, too,” he replied.
Her heart soared. How had he managed to make her feel so grateful...and so needy at the same time?
“Would...would a cup of coffee be all right?”
“That would be fine,” he said.
Liandra felt like she should give him something...but what would he take?
“It’ll be my treat,” she said.
“As you wish.”
She’d have gladly given a kiss instead. Would he have taken that? “Do you want to ride in my car?”
“That will be fine.”
Virgil filled the passenger side of her car. He was more a force of a nature than an occupant. His scent, the sweat, the testosterone was ten times more intense.
“I’m afraid I’m not really clean,” he said.
“I don’t mind,” she said shyly, imagining herself licking the perspiration clean from his body inch by inch as he stood with his belt in his hand, enforcing the quality of her work.
“Leather seats,” he observed.
“They’re pretentious...” she apologized quickly.
Virgil frowned. “Why are you doing that?”
“D—doing what?”
“Acting ashamed of your accomplishments. You worked hard for this car, you deserve it, do you not?”
“Yes...I suppose.”
“Then say it.”
“I—I worked hard...I deserve the car.”
He nodded. “There is a good coffee shop around the corner. Let’s go there.”
“Yes,” she replied, feeling a little shiver down her spine as he buckled his seat belt. Why did she feel like it was her he was locking in?
Liandra parked across the street from the place Virgil had picked. “Is this the one you mean?” she asked anxiously.
“Yes,” he said. “Why are you so nervous?”
“I’m not...”
“I already told you, I will not be dominating you today.”
Yes, Master! Page 3
