by Tawny Taylor
“I think he’s a good guy.” Kristy wrapped her arm around Wynne’s shoulder and gave it a squeeze. “And I think you’ll regret it forever if you don’t try to find out why he’s holding back. If he’s really as attracted to you as you’re suggesting, he owes you an explanation about why he won’t give you a shot.”
“How am I going to get him to do that?”
Kristy gave her a meaningful grin. “I think you know what to do.”
“No, really, I don’t.”
A knock sounded at the door and Kristy leapt to her feet. “Food’s here.” Wynne set down her glass and stood, prepared to get some money from her purse, but Kristy stopped her. “Nope. It’s my turn to pay. Remember? You got it last time.”
“Okay. Thanks.”
“My pleasure.” Kristy gathered some cash from her wallet and hurried toward the door. Before she opened it, she turned to face Wynne. “You know Dierk like nobody else at Twilight does. I can’t tell you what to do. You’ve got to figure it out for yourself. There’s got to be a way to approach him, make him feel comfortable so he’ll feel comfortable telling you the truth.” Then she turned around, opened the door, and greeted the delivery man on the other side with a smile and a friendly, “Hey there!” She thrust the money at him and accepted the large paper bag he’d been holding in his arms. “Thanks. Keep the change.” After the man thanked her, she shut the door and trotted back toward Wynne. She set the bag on the coffee table and started pulling white styrofoam cartons out of it. “So you aren’t going to scene with Rolf and Zane anymore?”
“No. I told Zane I wasn’t the right submissive for him during our last session. He’s too…intense for me. And Rolf…not for a while, not until I find out what’s going on with Dierk. And maybe not even after that. It’s not right, not with Dierk being his brother.”
Kristy picked up a baby corn from one of the containers and slipped it into her mouth. “Mmmm, good stuff.” She licked her fingers. “I wish I could help you sort this stuff out.”
“Do I need to talk to Rolf? Explain myself?”
“No. He’ll understand.” Kristy handed her a container.
Wynne set it on the coffee table, next to her glass of cola. “I feel bad. I mean, I think he kind of knows, after our last session.”
“Don’t worry about it. He has other subs. He isn’t going to be upset.”
“You’re sure?”
“Positive. It happens all the time.” Kristy pointed a plastic fork wrapped in a white napkin at Wynne’s nose. “If you’re asking my opinion, I think you should concentrate on Dierk.”
Wynne snatched the fork. “Thanks.”
She wasn’t just grateful for the fork. Or the food.
“It might be easier to get him to talk if I could spend some time with him outside of the dungeon,” Wynne mumbled as she unwrapped a spring roll.
Kristy’s smile turned devious. “I think that could be arranged.”
13
“The Venus Lounge?” Wynne read the sign as Kristy turned into the parking lot and maneuvered her subcompact into the one empty parking spot in sight. Clearly, this club was popular, though she had no clue why, not from the exterior. “Sounds like a strip joint.”
“That’s because it is.” Kristy cut off the engine.
“Oh, come on.” Wynne crossed her arms over her chest. “Why did you bring me here?”
Kristy dropped her car keys into her purse and pulled out her lipstick. “Because I’ve heard this is one of Dierk’s favorite hangouts.” She checked her makeup in the rearview mirror, smiled to make sure she didn’t have makeup on her teeth, then dropped the unused tube back in her purse.
“Dierk’s favorite hangout is a strip club?”
“A gentleman’s club,” Kristy corrected. “Ready to go inside?”
Was she insane?
“We can’t go in there.”
“Sure we can.” Kristy unbuckled her seat belt and opened her door. “Are you staying in the car or coming with me? I’m doing this for you. You said you wanted to spend time with Dierk outside of the dungeon.”
“Yeah, but I had something a little more…” Normal. “…low key in mind. Like maybe dinner.”
“They serve incredible food here. Just because the waitresses’ asses hang out of their shorts doesn’t mean the place serves second-rate food.”
“Yeah, well…” Still sitting in the car, Wynne watched her friend totter on her five-inch stilettos toward the door. “Oh hell.” When Kristy disappeared into the building, Wynne stared down at her hands. She’d never been in a place like this. She imagined it would be like the seedy dumps she’d seen in movies, crowded and smoky, dark with colored lights flashing and mostly naked women on a raised stage, hips gyrating to earsplitting music. It was so far from the kind of environment she’d hoped for, not at all intimate or romantic; she couldn’t imagine any reason why she should even bother going inside.
For one thing, how would she get Dierk’s attention when there would be dozens of tight and tanned female bodies on display? She wasn’t tight, tanned, or nude.
And that wasn’t even the point.
She’d enjoyed a little quality time with Dierk in the dungeon, but that time had been spent doing things that were commonly done in a dungeon, which was fine. But the whole purpose of this visit was to see if she could hope for more.
She wanted to know Dierk. As a human being, not just a Dom. It might be silly, but she wanted to know what he ate for breakfast, what he watched on television, what he dreamed about at night. How could she learn those things while some naked girl was standing in front of him, tits bouncing to some old Judas Priest song?
What the hell had Kristy been thinking?
Annoyed, Wynne turned to look at the grungy building, hoping Kristy had noticed by now that she was still in the car. A face appeared, not Kristy’s, seemingly out of nowhere, and a shriek surged up Wynne’s throat. But before it flew out, something clicked in her brain.
That was Dierk’s face in the driver’s side window.
While she collected herself—she’d just about peed her pants—he knocked on the glass and shouted, “Are you okay?”
She reached over and unlocked the door, waiting until he had it opened before answering, “Yes, I’m fine. You just startled me a little.”
Bending at the waist, he motioned to the seat. “May I?”
“Oh, absolutely. But fair warning, it’s a little cramped.”
It took him a few seconds to get in; he had to move the seat as far back as it would go. Once he was settled and had the door closed, he turned to her. “Kristy told me you were out here.”
“Yes.” She cleared her throat. “I didn’t know she was bringing me here…to a…well, nothing against places like this, but I didn’t feel…um…” She couldn’t say more. The right words simply weren’t there, only the wrong ones, and she didn’t want to sound stupid or judgmental. Or rather, more stupid or judgmental than she already sounded.
“It’s okay. I understand.” He smiled, and the world was pretty much right again and she didn’t feel stupid anymore, only warm and happy. And hungry. “Are you hungry?” he asked.
Was he a psychic? Scary. “Oh, uh, Kristy told me they serve good food here, but—”
“No,” he cut her off. “I was thinking we could go somewhere else, maybe somewhere quieter, where we could talk.”
Yes!
She nodded. “I would be glad to.”
“Good.”
She pointed toward the bar. “But I should probably let Kristy know first.”
“Already done.”
“Well then. I guess you were pretty sure I’d accept your invitation.”
“Not really. I told her I would offer, but if I was shot down, I’d drive you home anyway.”
“How gallant,” she said, pronouncing the second word with an accent on the second syllable, like her mother used to. “You’re willing to take me home even if I turn down an invitation to dinner?”
“Absolutely. My car’s parked around back. Wait here.” After she nodded, he left.
A little giddy, she watched him jog around the side of the building. A few minutes later, a sleek black sports car prowled toward her, the motor a low hum that reverberated through her body. The car stopped next to Kristy’s and no sooner did Wynne have her door open than Dierk was at her side, guiding her into his car’s low, black leather seat.
She felt like the soft leather cradled her when she sat, and she noticed, as Dierk walked around the front, that the vehicle’s interior smelled really good, like new car and Dierk.
He drove fast, which wasn’t such a surprise, considering what he was driving, but she wasn’t nervous. He proved within a few short miles, when a little white Saturn shot out in front of them, that he had lightning-quick reflexes, steering out of what would have been a fatal accident before Wynne had even realized what was happening.
Yes, just like she did in the dungeon, she felt safe with Dierk, protected. And wonderfully excited. Every time she looked at him, he was more handsome. And she knew those good looks weren’t wasted on a self-centered, hedonistic bastard either.
“I’m glad you came to the club tonight,” Dierk said shortly after the close call with the Saturn. He maneuvered his car into a tiny gap in the heavy traffic on the freeway.
“Ironically, so am I.”
They exchanged a smile. “That was Raven’s idea, bringing me there,” she added.
He nodded, signaled, and changed lanes. “She told me.” After a beat, he asked, “Which do you prefer, steak or Italian?”
“Either is fine.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
“You’re going to make me choose?” When he gave her a pointed look, she laughed. “Okay, how about steak?”
“Good choice.” He punched the gas and cut across three lanes of traffic, making it into the right lane just in time to exit the highway.
Miraculously, she didn’t brace herself against the dash. “You know, if it would have been easier to get to the Italian restaurant, I would’ve said that.”
“Which is why I didn’t mention it.”
She laughed again, and this time Dierk joined her. It wasn’t a hearty, belly-busting guffaw, more a nervous chuckle, but it felt good releasing some of that jittery energy.
She couldn’t help noticing that laughter did something magical to Dierk’s face. He hadn’t laughed in the dungeon, so this was the first she’d seen it. His eyes lit up—no, his whole being did. A face that was already remarkable became impossibly more amazing.
“Have you read that book I gave you yet?”
Her cheeks warmed. Busted. “I’ve read part of it. I’ve been busy lately, haven’t had much time for reading.”
“What do you think so far?”
“It’s very fast-paced, a genuine page-turner. Tight and suspenseful. I find myself wanting to keep reading, even when I need to stop.”
He nodded as he checked the rearview mirror. “It gets better.” He changed lanes and hit the right turn signal.
“If that’s the case, I’m in trouble. I’d better make sure I can set aside some time before I pick it up again.”
“Good idea.” He turned the car into a parking lot. While he pulled into an empty spot, she checked the sign. She’d never heard of this restaurant. “I know the owner. You’ll love the food here.”
“I can’t wait.”
He twisted toward her then and her heart did a little bunny hop in her chest. He was staring at her mouth, and she couldn’t breathe. Was he going to kiss her? How many times had she wished he would? At least a million. Maybe even a billion.
He reached for her, ran a fingertip down the side of her face, and a little quiver of expectation shot through her. His eyes found hers. He leaned closer. Closer still. She closed her eyes, sure he was about to kiss her. Finally!
“You smell good,” he murmured in her ear. A soft current of air caressed her neck and goose bumps puckered all over the left side of her body. A tingly warmth ignited low, between her legs. She squeezed them together and relaxed fingers that had been curled around the edge of the seat, fingernails digging into the supple hide.
Still, there was no kiss. But that tickly stream of air continued, like the softest touch, slowly traveling down her neck to the crook of her collarbone. She had to force herself to inhale. Her head was spinning.
“Dierk?”
“I want to taste you but I don’t dare. Because if I do, I know I won’t want to stop.” His hand moved back, fingers sliding into her hair at her temple then curling.
“I wouldn’t want you to stop either.”
“Mmmmm.” He pulled, gently coaxing her to tip her head to one side. He closed the other hand around her neck. He didn’t use any pressure on her throat, so air could move in and out freely, or at least it should have. But because her body was tightening all over, it couldn’t. She gasped.
He put a little pressure on the underside of her chin, forcing it up. Something came closer to her mouth, something warm. Something that smelled really good. But in less than a heartbeat it was gone, and so were his hands.
No kiss.
“Wait here.” Before she responded, he opened his door and walked around the car to get hers. Like the perfect gentleman he always played, he helped her out. But going above and beyond, he held her hand as they walked across the parking lot and into the building.
They were seated immediately, despite the crush of people in the lobby area waiting for tables. They were led to a room sectioned off from the main dining area. Empty, quiet, and private. Their table was set in the rear, in a cozy corner. A candle flickered on the table, creating a soft, wavering light that made what was already a romantic setting even more so.
Once they’d taken care of ordering drinks and appetizers, and the waiter had hustled off, Dierk rested his elbows on the table, steepled his fingers under his chin, and gazed into her eyes. “Raven told me you needed to talk. What’s on your mind?”
“Nothing really,” she lied.
His eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly. “You look nervous.”
“Maybe that’s because I am.” She unfolded her napkin and smoothed it over her lap.
“Why?”
“I don’t know. We aren’t strangers. We’ve spent a little time together, and maybe I should be more comfortable with you than I am right now. You’ve been honest with me all along. But there’s still something between us, and I’m not sure what to do about it. With the other Doms, it was all about sensation, domination, submission, power, and surrender.” She took a sip from her water glass, appreciating the chill as it slid down her throat and settled in her stomach. “But…”
“But what? That isn’t enough for you.”
Now that wasn’t a question. It was a statement, a very weighted, carefully enunciated one.
“Is it enough for you?” She held her breath, hoping he would say no, praying he would sweep her into his arms and tell her he was falling in love with her and he couldn’t fight it any longer.
He shook his head. “It doesn’t matter what I want. What matters is what you need.”
“It’s not that I’m expecting anyone to drop on his knee and beg me to marry him. I’m not asking for any heavy commitment. I just want…need…more than role playing.”
“Who said that’s what I did with you?”
“Then you weren’t? Dierk, please tell me what’s going on?” He looked away, turning his profile to her, and allowing her to see he’d clenched his jaw. He was a guy, and men weren’t the best at talking about feelings. She understood that. But still she wished he could say what he was thinking, feeling right now. Was he annoyed? Angry? Confused or frustrated? “When I first came to Twilight,” she continued, “I was searching for answers.”
“To what questions?”
“Why people went to bondage dungeons, what would drive them to seek out Doms to humiliate them, whip them, bind them. Why they would create a conne
ction between pain and humiliation and sexuality.”
Still staring off to the side, he nodded. “Yes, you said you were doing research for a book.”
“You never believed that story, did you?”
The corner of his mouth twitched. “No. I’ve heard that story one time too many to believe it anymore.”
The waiter came, drinks and appetizer balanced on a tray, and the conversation halted.
It was Dierk who started the discussion again, after the waiter had left and they’d both taken a taste of their drinks. “Did you find your answers?”
“Yes.”
“Good.”
She could see he’d closed up more than he had been only a few minutes ago. He wasn’t going to open up to her. Regardless, or maybe hoping it would make him relax a little, she admitted, “But now I have more questions than I had when I started, and I’m…I long for a closer connection, something more than physical.”
“Yes, I see that.”
“I don’t think I’ll be coming back to Twilight. At least not for a while.”
He emptied his glass in a series of long gulps, then set it on the table. “You need to do what’s best for you.”
The waiter entered again, this time with their dinners. The conversation didn’t start up again after he left. It would have been easy for Wynne to tell herself that it was because they were eating. But she knew it wasn’t. First, Dierk didn’t seem to be eating at all, just emptying his glass fast enough that the waiter was bringing him drinks two at a time. And second, because she would have gladly stopped eating to talk, if Dierk had looked a little more open to continuing their discussion.
The fact was, she’d dragged them into territory Dierk wasn’t willing to explore. She couldn’t begin to guess why. But it was what it was, and he wasn’t trying to deceive her. He’d had some weak moments, but she couldn’t fault him for that. Not when he’d managed to keep from even kissing her. They’d discussed the nature of their relationship before their one and only time in the dungeon. And again, he’d told her he wasn’t able to pursue anything with her after her close call outside Twilight.
