Red Hots
Page 4
“I’ll do it. I promise. But, I did want to tell you thank you for the basket. It’s good to know that one of us remembered my birthday.”
“No comment.” Emmalee laughed.
“Thank you.” Glancing over at the box of candy with the card still hidden inside, Kindle began, “So, tell me who you meant by he.”
“Um…who delivered your basket?” There was an unsure tone to her friend’s voice.
“I don’t know his name. Some guy from Decadent Treats.” Kindle had read the shop’s name off the ribbon and flier in the basket. It had also been the words on the bold man’s tie, but she hadn’t wanted to stare at it…or him longer than she already had. However, Kindle was hoping he wasn’t the “who” Emmalee was referring to. “What does a simple delivery man have to do with this?”
Emmalee chuckled. “If the person I hope delivered your basket…” She paused then continued. “Oh, my, did you read him wrong, Madame Attorney. There is nothing simple about Dom Hawk.”
“Who? What?” Kindle felt as if she were missing something in the conversation.
“Describe the man to me.”
“Okay, I’ll humor you.” Nervous for some reason she wasn’t going to try to understand, she licked her lips. “He was a man.”
“Funny. Hair, eye color, build…I’m sure you recall the drill somewhere in your brain even though it has been way too long since you probably looked at someone for pure pleasure instead of analyzing them.”
“Ouch.” Kindle couldn’t argue with that fact, because her friend’s words were too true. “Fine. Tall with thick brown hair that was neatly trimmed but still held a slight wave to it. Broad shoulders and big, strong, capable-looking hands. He had eyes a combination of greenish-gray, laurel maybe. Nice eyes, but serious…no maybe too direct like he was looking into my soul—” Kindle stopped talking. She’d gone way too far. It had not been her intention to go into such great detail or reveal how the man made her insides shiver out of nervousness and pleasure.
The man unsettled her even when he wasn’t there. Even now her body became overheated and her breasts felt heavy and her nipples were tightening. Okay, the man was sexy, plain and simple. Any healthy, red-blooded woman would probably have the same response while thinking about him.
“Wow. I’m glad you didn’t get a good look at him,” Emmalee teased.
“Anyway.” Kindle wanted to get off this stream of conversation.
“That is definitely Dom Hawk. I met him about a year or so ago at a place called The Dollhouse.”
Kindle frowned. “Isn’t that where you started going to get beaten or whipped or something?”
“Yes. In a manner of speaking but its more than that.” There was a slight tension that came into her friend’s voice.
This was a touchy subject between them. Kindle tried her best not to allow her own prejudices to rain down on her friend, but at times like this, when she was feeling a little off kilter, Kindle couldn’t help it.
“I’ll take your word for it. So, you were saying this delivery guy goes there too?”
“It’s not what you do in the lifestyle…it’s about recognizing and discovering who you are in the lifestyle. Your true self.”
She had heard all this before from her friend.
“Anyway. He and his brother actually own the candy shop. Matter of fact, Dom Hawk introduced me to my Master.”
“Ah, so this is a birthday hook up. Maybe if he and I hit it off, you can give me some stress relief. A way for me to do something for myself and let go of some tension.” Kindle gave her friend back the words that were in the card. It was becoming clearer to Kindle and in some ways the knowledge brought relief, but there was also a twinge of disappointment that it wasn’t something more. She mentally grabbed that twinge and buried it in a pocket in her mind. This guy wasn’t her type; he was too intense, she didn’t have time to deal with that.
“No, Kindle. I mean, if there was a connection you all found then great. But, in the months I worked with Dom Hawk while he was training me is when I started feeling peace in my life. An inner tranquility that took me away from the drudges of my work day as I allowed someone else to lead, take control.”
“That is all fine and dandy for you, but I don’t ne—”
“Yes you do. I’ve known you since middle school. You’re my best friend. Don’t close yourself off from something before you give it a chance. Look, I need to get going. We can talk about this later, maybe lunch next week. Just promise me you’ll think about it.”
Kindle exhaled a hard and loud breath purposely so her friend could hear it. “I’ll think about it.”
“Great. Happy birthday again and go home, Kindle.”
“Okay. Okay.” They ended the call. A lot of things Emmalee had said were true. Kindle knew she had a habit of seeing something and quickly categorizing things in her life or into a pile out of her life. The last place was where a lot of things that weren’t work related ended up.
Reaching over, she picked up the Red Hots. She’d never been afraid to at least look at something, read it. Moving more on impulse instead of a firm thought, she peeled off the tape and pried the top open. Small red candies rained down on her desk, trapping the papers underneath them as she pulled the card out.
On one side it was a standard professional business card. It had the name of the store ‘Decadent Treats’ and the address, phone and fax numbers and the website. There was also a logo in the center of it, similar to what had been on his tie. A diamond shaped box with four candies, each filling a corner. His name was on it, Masaun Hawkes, manager, co-owner.
She liked his name. As a person who had to call many people by their names to the witness stand or while they were there, she liked saying his name.
“Masaun Hawkes.” It even rolled smoothly over her tongue. She thought she understood where the Hawk part came from in his Dom Hawk title Emmalee had used.
However, all of her scrutiny of the front of the card was her way of delaying looking on the back of it.
Taking a breath, she twisted her wrist to the side and flipped the card so she could see the back.
CALL ME. 757.555.2163.
That was it. No name. No message. Just two words and his number, like he was giving her a direct order or command.
Disappointment slid down her spine like a chip of ice on a hot day, dissolving into an ache low in her belly. For preservation purposes, she pushed that away.
“The nerve of this guy.” She was of a mind to crumple it up and toss it in the trash. But she’d promised Emmalee she’d at least try. That meant calling him and seeing what he wanted, but that was as far as she’d be willing to go.
But not tonight. The other thing she’d promised her friend was that she’d go home. It was a few minutes before ten and she had a big day tomorrow. She would need rest before jury selection started.
Red Hots were not her type of candy. She did not care for spicy things as much as she hated the unexpected. Masaun Hawkes was an unexpected entity in her life at the moment. Because of that, he bewildered her.
Shoving the red candy pieces back into their box, she pulled a piece of tape and sealed the flap down then tossed the box into her purse. She wasn’t sure why she didn’t chuck it into the trash beside her desk, but somehow it, like Emmalee’s card, was a part of her birthday. The only reminder that she’d turned thirty-three today.
Her friend’s card went in next. After that she shoved the thick file she would need tomorrow into her briefcase and locked up the other items dealing with this trial and others into a cabinet in her office. Finished shutting down her computer and turning off the light, she left her office.
On the way out of the building, she spoke to Mr. Hendley, a member of the county cleaning crew that maintained their floor then left.
She knew that her curiosity was too piqued for her not to give in and call Masaun Hawkes, but she would do it on her time. She’d never liked taking orders from anyone and she wasn’t going to star
t with some bold, too-confident man. No matter how sexy he was.
He’d soon discover this would be done her way or not at all.
~YH~
“Ohhh…ahhhhhhhhh.”
Kindle couldn’t recall the last time she’d masturbated. Like everything else, desire didn’t fit into her schedule therefore there was no cause or need to get herself off.
Until Masaun Hawkes. The damn man had not only invaded her office but had stepped into her dream and turned it into a fantasy, an erotic one.
Even now as her body hummed with satisfaction and fading tremors of pleasure, she wanted to scream in frustration. Aggravation that he was creeping into her mind and annoyance that unlike all the times she’d brought herself to an orgasm in the past, this hadn’t been enough. She was sated…but not. Dissatisfaction saturated her blood.
Moving the hand on her sex to her stomach and pausing in the act of pinching her nipples with the other, she lay there in bed and stared up toward the ceiling. It was dark in her room, since she did not have a light on and the sun had yet to rise. In a few minutes, her alarm would go off, and she would need to get up and get ready for her day and the first phase of the trial—jury selection. However, not yet.
Her mind was calm and she was at peace for this sliver of a moment in time. The only thing invading her thoughts was the image of Masaun’s face. With her brain still slightly muddled from her climax, she did not attempt to fight the image and bury it in the cavernous place in the back of her mind where all things she refused to allow time for went to die.
Why can’t I keep my thoughts from him? she wondered.
No one else had ever shaken her to the core. No other man had made her want to strangle and kiss him at the same time. Maybe it was Masaun’s sensual mouth that drew her. The man had slim, firm lips that taunted her. Teased her into imagining them on her mouth, her neck, her breasts and…
She sighed, long and slow. Her body started to spark to renewed desire. Something she did not have time for. No way. She especially could not allow herself to even get stimulated again and then be forced to fight those emotions all day when she had more important things to do and consider.
Once I talk to him again. Recall just how bold and arrogant he is in person, I’ll be able to cut him down to size with a firm, direct and resounding no. No date…no anything else he may have on his mind.
“He is not going to be a problem for me.” She tossed the covers off her body and rose to a sitting position on the side of her bed. Her satin night gown fell back into place around her hips from the bunched position it had been in while she caressed herself. The warm glow still settled low in her belly did not allow for her to be angry with herself for giving into the temptation the dream had caused.
Rising, she went into the bathroom and turned on her shower. A quick shower would soothe her frayed nerves. In her lap was the biggest trial of the year. Possibly the most watched and televised trial happening in Virginia since the DC Sniper. Those two men had terrorized gas station customers for weeks in three different states. Now she was taking lead in prosecuting this child murdering sex offender that had terrorized parents of kindergarten age children in the Tidewater, Peninsula and Southside areas for months.
Nine months ago, when he was captured, the entire state had breathed a sigh of relief. Now, it was in her hands to do this case right. Standing in the shower, she pressed a hand to her stomach attempting to calm the queasiness inside. Her belly seemed to flip a few times beneath her palm, and even if it was her imagination, she could feel the responding quivering in her body.
Don’t mess this up, Kindle. She could hear her father’s voice in her head. Her parents had divorced when she was seven and her father, a college provost in Williamsburg, had gotten custody. Her mother, Beatrice, who had met and fallen in love with a fellow real estate agent, did not even put up a fight for her. Before the ink was placed on the divorce papers, her mother and new lover had moved to Minnesota and immersed themselves in the booming housing market.
She loved her father for ‘wanting’ her, but the man was tough. He’d never remarried and had divided his attention between his college responsibilities and ensuring his daughter succeeded. Every achievement could only be topped by the next, and the next, and the next one after that.
Closing her fist tight, she dug her short nails deep into the palm of her hand. Get it together. Get it together. She chanted. Focusing on the small amount of pain in her hand, she blocked out everything else and allowed her emotions to be smothered, snuffed out of her mind.
This empty, emotionless place was where she needed to reside. Where she had to be in order to be the best—the barracuda of the courtroom.
Feeling more like herself, she bathed in a brisk, efficient manner and got out of the shower. Twenty minutes later, she was dressed, had her room placed in an immaculate state and had her briefcase in hand as she headed out the front door of her condo. The sun had barely begun to peep on the eastern horizon as she backed her car out of her parking space and drove to her habitual coffee shop for her sesame seed bagel and chai.
This was her world, her existence. Neat. Routine. Orderly.
If she planned to maintain her life just as she liked it, as she’d been raised to keep it, then Masaun Hawkes had to become a non-factor to her. It was the only way.
CHAPTER four
“Hey, Masaun—”
Masaun held up a single finger to Sweet as he stood in the doorway of his office and continued to stare at the ringing phone on his desk. He knew who it was and he had no intention of answering it, but he wanted to count the rings until they stopped. After the third ring, it stopped. Then he waited to see if the message light would begin to flash; it didn’t.
Lowering his hand, he gazed at his brother. “What’s up?”
Taking two steps into the room, Sweet frowned. “Why didn’t you answer the phone? We’re not dodging bill collectors or something, are we?”
Masaun allowed one eyebrow to rise. “No.”
Titling his head toward the phone, Sweet asked, “What gives?”
“I know who it is. This person is attempting to circumvent my instructions. I’m not having it.”
“Ah.” His nod was slow. “Evidently they don’t know you very well.”
“If I have it my way, they will soon.” Masaun exhaled. He would deal with the person on the other end of the line shortly. He focused on his brother. “Did you need me for something?”
“No. Just wanted to say I’m headed out for a minute. I had a few batches of chocolate that didn’t come out as well as I’d have liked, but instead of wasting them, I’m going to take them to the shelter.”
He kept his gaze on his brother’s face, attempting to read his eyes. Sweet’s face was a blank, stone mask as always, so Masaun knew he’d get nothing from there. However, the eyes always told those things people tried to hide. Unable to clearly decipher what was there, he asked, “Why don’t you just have Hanson take care of it?”
Sweet shrugged. “I have some candy setting up, so I have a little time on my hands before I can work with it. So, I’ll do it.”
“Okay.” Masaun still held his brother’s gaze, waiting for him to tell him truly why he felt the need to leave the shop.
“All right. I’ll be back in an hour or so.” So nothing more, Sweet turned and left the office.
A man had a right to his own privacy, Masaun told himself. Especially his brother. Sweet was a Master and his own man. It had been over twenty years since his younger brother needed him for guidance. Yet he still worried.
After seeing that Sweet had pulled the office door to, leaving a small crack like Masaun liked it, Masaun lowered his gaze to the phone.
Picking up the receiver, he went back to the last number that came in and wrote it down then pressed the call button.
“He—llo?” The sultry voice on the other end was hesitant.
However, it still caused an immediate response in his body; as if the person who a
nswered had reached through the phone and stroked up along the inside of his thigh—his cock started to rise.
“That’s not the number I told you to call.” He kept his voice even, controlled, not giving away any of the emotion swelling up inside of him.
“Masaun.” It wasn’t a question. She’d recognized his voice instantly. “How do you have my number?”
That knowledge had his dick rising higher. “Caller identification. The phone in my office is equipped with it.” It also did not escape his notice that her number came up as Commonwealth Courthouse, which meant she had called him from her work phone. Another way to keep a personal distance between them.
“Damn.” He heard Kindle mumble low as if she’d moved her mouth away from the phone.
He understood what she’d been attempting to do. Evidently, she had wanted to call him, possibly to find out more about him. Or perhaps she had not thrown the box of candy and his card in the trash the moment he walked out of her office, but she had opened it, and decided to call the store and disregard the number on the back. That thought, even with her disobedience, had him shifting in his seat and heat building at the base of his spine.
“Back to my original statement, Kindle. This was not the number I told you to call.”
“This wa—”
“Did you get my message?” He cut her off. Wanting to hear only a single-word answer—hopefully the correct answer.
She paused. Her end of the line went silent and he could imagine her clenching her teeth, not wanting to give her answer.
“Yes,” she finally responded. She did not add to it, just waited on the other end.
Even though this was only their second interaction, he understood certain things about her. Kindle either wanted or needed control of the things and people in her life. That was why she had called the store, only allowed it to ring a few times and ended the call before the answering machine could even pick up. She wanted this to be done on her terms.