Mark chuckled and shook his head, an evil look in his eyes. Steve flat out laughed. Still, Jake wasn’t dissuaded.
“Well?”
“I’ll introduce you, but don’t get your hopes up,” Mark said.
Steve slapped him on the back and directed his comment to Mark. “He wants a distraction. Give him a shot.”
The woman in question turned in their direction, giving him a chance to map her face. Hot damn gorgeous. Golden skin. Full lips. Dark mahogany hair floated around her shoulders, shifting to match her stride as she crossed the club. Slim, almost too skinny, like she needed someone to feed her body and soul. Soft curves in all the right places. And she was tall, almost his height. A perfect partner in every endeavor he might suggest.
He was a goner.
Mark called her name, Lizette, and she adjusted her footfalls to take her to their seating area. To him. For the first time since he’d been assigned this project, Jake felt a spark of interest.
“I don’t think you’ve met my guest. This is Jake Wortham, an old friend from my college days. Jake, this is Lizette Kently.”
He stuck out his hand. “Nice to meet you, Lizette.”
Her eyes flicked to Mark before she met his handshake. A quick squeeze and she let her hand drop away from his. “Nice to meet you. Hope you have a nice visit. Mark’s a great host, from what I’ve heard.”
Mark chuckled and Jake thought he heard a cough from Steve, but his gaze stayed fixed on the beautiful woman in front of him. “Maybe we could have a drink in the bar? Get to know each other?”
Progress. The corners of her mouth curved up while the rest of her wide lips pursed.
“Sorry, but no.”
Damn. He was so out of practice he’d lost his charm. “Maybe another time?”
Again, her eyes flashed to Mark, and then to Steve before she met his gaze. “I don’t think so. But I’m sure one of your friends here can find you a suitable companion.”
A harsh truth slipped into his head. “Sorry. Mark should’ve told me you weren’t into men. My bad for not asking first.”
Lizette stepped back with one foot, the creak of leather from the bend of her knee doing something strange to his chest, and her chin tipped in his direction. She looked him in the eye, hot blue eyes sucking the air out of his lungs, and then she made a show of checking him out from the top of his head to his buffed black boots and all the way back to his face. The long pause at his crotch had him half hard for the first time in months.
“Oh, I’m into men. No doubt about it. But you’re not for me.”
He stared after her with a long exhale, her hips swinging side to side in the age old call to men in need, but she’d turned him down.
Hell. She’d burned him down.
When the door closed on her luscious ass, he turned back to his erstwhile buddies. “What the hell was that?”
The chorus of laughter wasn’t funny, but at least they’d waited until the door closed on her tight behind.
Mark settled back on the sofa, still grinning ear to ear. “She’s a Domme, so unless you want to put on a collar and submit to her, she’s not interested.”
“She doesn’t have a life outside the club?”
Two stone cold faces turned in his direction.
Damn it all to hell. He’d insulted his best friends.
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to be derogatory. I just don’t get how this works. I need to find that damn book and read up on the rules.”
“You don’t need a fucking book.” Steve’s harsh exhale leached frustration. “You need a woman to set you straight.”
Mark waved him to a chair and then swiveled to check the women in the main lounge. “I can fix you up with a nice, easy playing submissive if you just need to get off.”
“Hell no.” Jake’s hand went to his face in an attempt to wipe the frustration out of his eyes. Less than an hour ago, he’d imagined exactly what Mark now offered.
It wasn’t what he needed.
For the first time in years, he wanted a–dare he even think of it?-a relationship.
Damn him to hell and back, but he wanted it with the stunning Domme he’d just insulted and chased off.
“I need to get out of here.” Hands already in his pockets, he fished out his keys and made for the door, playing deaf while the other two argued about his exit. “Tomorrow, guys.” And he was out. Out of the club. Out of their sight.
And out of his mind.
Chapter 6
For a man fluent in four languages, he had a fucking knack for putting his foot in it. The only word that came to mind at the moment was an obscenely nasty curse in German. Why?
It was the coarsest language he knew and the woman he’d just played idiot to was leaning against her car.
Adjacent to his rental.
At least he’d had the good sense to trade the sporty mess for a decent sedan. Still, he had no desire to prolong the awkward conversation they’d left in the club.
The cell pressed to her ear said she wasn’t likely to speak to him, so Jake made for his car, eyes averted and hands in pockets.
“Son of a freaking bitch.”
The words collided with the clash of her fist when it hit the trunk of her car.
His feet pulled a halt and Jake looked her in the eye, a split second of connection before she turned away, and his gut clenched. Bad news.
He knew that look.
The kind of pain she couldn’t change, couldn’t fix.
The conversation continued on different sides. Her angry expression and mumbled curses missed her audience while she paced and a rumble of a male voice added his two cents into the air around the swinging cell.
Jake was close enough to see the tense knuckles of her fingers where they gripped the phone. It bounced around near her hip as she stomped around the driveway.
He saw it coming, the minute she’d had enough. He stepped into her personal space and pried slender but surprisingly tenacious fingers off the phone before it became a projectile.
She’d thank him later.
Meantime, he moved out of her reach and told whoever was on the phone that she’d get back to him. The sound of gravel crunching sent him back in her direction, afraid she was still out of it and might walk into a moving car.
Instead, he found her on her ass behind her car, the back of her hand swiping at a tear she didn’t want.
He opened the back door to his rental and pulled out the half-used box of tissues the last customer left. When he offered her the box, she looked up with dry eyes and dirty cheeks.
“What, no fresh linen hanky?”
“Smartass. I only carry those when I work. This is vacation time.”
“Thanks.” Her tone wasn’t exactly appreciative, but she mopped up the stray moisture and dirt with half lidded eyes averted. He’d much rather see her as the self-possessed Domme she’s been in the club.
Jake squatted in front of her and reached for her chin. Screw the house rules, they were in the yard and she was hurt. He was a man, and while it had been a long while since he’d been close to a woman, he still knew the basics.
First rule. Always lead with the truth.
His index finger made contact with soft skin and he lifted just enough to have her face open to his. “I’m sorry about whatever happened to you just now.”
“You don’t even know what happened.”
“I don’t have to know. You’re upset. I’m willing to help, even if all I can do is save your phone from certain death.”
That got a smile out of her, a good start.
“Mark has some good friends,” she said, brushing at the dirt on her jeans skirt. Sympathy wasn’t her thing. Not surprising at the moment.
“Even when I can’t keep my mouth shut when I should? Or when I insult a beautiful woman?”
Her brows came down in a sweet little vee above her nose. “Who did you insult?”
“You, just a few minutes ago.”
Her mouth opened and
closed and he wondered why she’d be surprised by his compliment.
“You didn’t insult me. You miscalculated the situation.”
He gave her a half-deprecating laugh. “Now you’re just being nice. Or is that condescending?”
She shook her head, a little smile curving the corners of her lips, and started to stand up. “Oh, no.”
“Are you hurt?”
“No, dammit. I’m a little sore from the...exercise lesson I had with Mildred.”
“Mildred?” He looked over his shoulder with a quick swivel and back. “Mildred Collins? Sweet little British lady?”
“Yes.”
He stood and took her hands in his. “What exactly is she teaching you?” he asked as he pulled her to her feet.
“I’d rather not discuss it.”
Jake flashed a grin he hoped she didn’t see. “Kinky sex stuff, huh? From Mildred. I can’t imagine. Hell, I don’t want to imagine,” he said with another laugh.
Lizette stepped away from him and brushed some of the dirt off her pants and he sobered. “Sure you’re okay to drive?”
The lady’s club persona was slipping back into place and he wasn’t ready to let her go. “I’m not much of a club person, not like Mark, but I’d like to get to know you. Could we be friends, at least?”
“Friends could be nice.” She gave him a look, the full body slide up and down like she had in the club, and nodded. “Don’t expect benefits.”
Jake smiled and mimicked her body evaluation. “No problem. Want to get a drink somewhere?”
Skeptical already, she showed him what he could only imagine as her mad Domme look but he waved it away. “A real drink. I’ve had a hard day, what with getting my ego stomped, and a few minutes ago, you were in the middle of a meltdown. One drink.”
“Huh. Okay, I guess a drink wouldn’t hurt. Maybe we should find a different bar.”
They ended up at a steak place in the suburbs of Arlington, not too far from Jake’s apartment. While it might give him a pass to get a little drunk and frisky, he knew better. They’d agreed to be friends. A shared bottle of wine wouldn’t make a difference one way or the other.
“Want to share what happened this afternoon? I’m a good listener and I know better than to give unsolicited advice.”
“Work. One of my cases. A little girl died when it shouldn’t have happened.”
He sipped, letting the wine wash some of the negative thoughts down his throat. He’d seen too many good people pass on at the wrong time. “Death is never easy to handle.”
“I thought she was safe. I took care of it. Well, thought I did, but her shitty mother wouldn’t let her stop.” Lizette tore into a chunk of bread on the little plate between them, palpable tension in her body from the frustration. “Sorry.”
“Hey, it’s okay.” He fiddled with the silverware, gave her a minute while he read the drink specials in the little stand. “I’m a little confused. What happened to the girl?”
“I arrested her a week ago. She was buying drugs from a known dealer when we crashed the buy.”
“You’re the law around here?” He added a southern drawl and a smile to make light of it, but he didn’t need a police presence around him while in the area.
“I’m a sergeant with one of the locals. There are several departments in the area.”
“A supervisor. You must be good at what you do.” The smile made the words, the questions, more of a socially acceptable conversation. Not anything he wanted to hear, but he had to know. “I thought Texas was a ‘good ole boy’ place where old men ran all the law enforcement offices.”
Her laugh woke a few places inside him that shouldn’t get involved in this discussion. The easy banter said she was buying his chatter as unintimidating and he hoped it stayed that way.
“What is it that you do for a living, Jake?”
“I’m a dreary old college professor. I lecture and grade papers. Boring, mind-numbing work. I’d rather hear about you.”
The waiter arrived, two plates overflowing with Texas beef and potatoes in hand. The conversation turned to food for a few minutes, but there were things he needed to know, and soon.
“How long have you been a police officer?”
Chapter 7
“Most of my adult life, I think,” she told him with a smile she wouldn’t have offered him earlier in the day. He was nowhere near the men she usually enjoyed, but there was something in the way he spoke to her that resonated. Until she got a fix on it and analyzed the feeling, she’d keep listening.
“So, a few years, right?”
Damn. She loved men who knew how to flirt. “A little longer than that. About ten years.”
His return smile flashed for one bright minute, but the heat didn’t reach his eyes. They were everywhere and nowhere all at once, evaluating her without asking questions. Not a word said about her age or experience. She’d seen the look before, once when she was evaluated in the military and once when she applied for the FBI academy.
Dammit.
He wasn’t a run of the mill professor.
Not an obvious deviation, but she’d worked with enough of the local taskforces to pick up on a sign or two.
While she busied her hands with the steak, she tried to figure out how Mark knew this man and why he’d invited him to Private Delights. If one or all of the owners had a problem, they ought to know she’d help in any capacity.
“What happened to the girl? You said something about helping her stay safe.”
Lizette refocused on the conversation and let her suspicions bubble on the back burner of her brain. “After the arrest, I got her transferred to juvie and tried to find a judge to keep her in foster care.”
“Not easy to accomplish.”
“It was a longshot. Her mom showed up the next day, paid a fine, and sent her back to work. The wholesaler recognized her and killed her. That call? My partner. He ID’d the body.”
“I can’t imagine how you deal with situations like this little girl’s,” he said. “Don’t get me wrong, I have nothing but esteem for police officers, male or female. Dealing with children who are forced into unbearable situations would be emotionally draining for anyone. Or should be.”
“True. Doesn’t happen often, but makes me crazy when it does.” Her jaw slammed shut of its own accord, thank fucking hell. He was good, getting her to open up and spill. Better than she’d expected. His evident compassion for children had changed her focus. Until she knew more of his background, she didn’t want to discuss ongoing cases with a man she barely knew. The friend of a friend relationship might be fine for a club hookup but not for sharing work experiences.
And why was her head suddenly considering a hookup?
The thought of Alex, her sometime submissive, didn’t pull the reins on the quick lick of lust sweeping through her gut. They hadn’t partnered in a few months, now that she gave him a thought.
Jake, quite unlike Alex in so many ways, was right in front of her and throwing off attraction like a magnet. The question of would he or wouldn’t he was moot. Banked desire wafted over the table in waves.
Not likely to let her tie him to the bed, but a little vanilla play never hurt.
In moderation, of course.
She shouldn’t. Not a good idea at all, but Jake was sitting across the table, looking delish and available.
A little sex play might tell her more about the man he truly was behind the boring professor. Even with the unknowns she had yet to ferret out, she could handle him. Looks could be deceiving.
“Have you visited Texas much?” she asked, and he spoke about his history with Mark and of the college capers the man she knew from the club would never confess to having. When the check landed on the table between them, he snatched it up, his attempt at playing top.
She didn’t complain. Instead, she smiled and waited until they were outside. “You live around here?”
He laughed. “If you can call it that. I have an apartment around the co
rner. Not much furniture, since I’ll only be here one semester. Not bad, but nothing like my home in Maryland.”
“Do you have a bed?”
Now she had his attention. His feet stopped moving and his body pivoted to face her.
“Yes. A king, with a great mattress. Why do you ask?”
Good question, since she’d dropped him hard in front of his friends. Damn if she could decide why she wanted to ask this time.
“I thought we might share it for an hour or two, if you’re still interested.”
Watching him decide reminded her of why she liked being a Domme. Patience wasn’t a virtue she often got behind. Half-lidded eyes darkened and he reached for her hand, turning it palm up in his hand.
“I’m interested, but have questions.”
Their eyes met and she felt the heat flowing across the short space between their bodies. Bondage or not, this coupling would be intense. "Ask them.”
“My way or yours?”
Her nipples tightened beneath her shirt. “Hmm, good question. For tonight, I’ll let you decide.”
“Good answer. Follow me?”
She nodded and got in her car. He’d been honest. When she parked next to his sedan and got out, she could see the restaurant she’d led him to from the parking lot of his complex. Small world. He took her hand when they started up the stairs and she couldn’t remember when a man had done that simple act of courtesy for her. But then, it had been awhile since she dated.
Or followed a man home.
Jake pushed the door open and ushered her inside. The main room wasn’t much to see, sparse being less than adequate since all he had was a man-sized recliner, a flat screen on the wall, and a folding table with computer equipment dumped on top and spread around.
“Sorry about the mess.”
The door clicked shut behind her, the words comingling with the sound, and she almost corrected him. Hard to excuse a mess when there wasn’t one. Instead, she reached for the hem of her shirt and pulled it over her head.
Four steps straight ahead, she draped it over his laptop and turned to face Jake. “Shy?”
Whip Me Up Tie Me Down Page 4
