Red Hots

by Hines, Yvette

  Kindle sat down on the side of her bed, feeling the weight of her dad’s censorship piling up on her shoulders. She and Simeon had been over for more than a year now. But she could still recall after she told her father about them, thinking he’d been happy she was dating someone in the same field who was just as dedicated to his career as she was to hers. However, through the year-long relationship, her father used every opportunity to tell her how she was losing her drive, falling backseat to her colleagues because she was kissing when she should be reviewing her cases for angles to victory. The relationship became strained and finally fell apart. She and Simeon remained friends, but nothing more.

  “Of course, Dad. This case for me is top priority.” She began idly plucking at the lacy hem of her dress.

  “Everyone must retire one day. CA Bryan Harvey has already announced that he was seeking re-election. When CA Bryan Harvey does retire, I’m sure you’re going to be up for election to replace him.”

  “You think so?” She wasn’t sure. Kindle knew she was good, if not the best, but the other assistant CAs were just as hardworking.

  “I know so.” His voice resounded through the line with confidence. “Well, I’ll let you go, so you can get back to what you were doing, reviewing your case, I’m sure.”

  “Okay, Dad.” She didn’t correct his assumption. “I love you.”

  “Love you.” He hung up.

  She pressed the end call. Glancing down, she noticed her free hand was no longer fiddling with the edge of the dress, but was balled into a tight fist, her nails buried deep.

  Quickly, she opened her hand and took a breath. Looking over at the clock, she realized she was running out of time. She abhorred people that were late. She saw she had only fifteen minutes to get out the door to make it to the restaurant in time, which was forty-five minutes away.

  Moving fast, she pulled her dress over her head and tossed it to her bed with the other things. Dashing into her closet, she grabbed a skirt and top. After putting them on, she slipped her feet into heels and raced to the bathroom.

  This is why she went to work almost two hours early. She hated rushing around like a mad woman. Her room was in complete disarray by the time she was in her bathroom applying a small amount of make-up and deciding to twist the braid into a bun instead of letting it out as she’d planned.

  Leaving her bathroom, she almost became sick at the sight of her room, but she didn’t have time to do anything about it. Walking into the living room, she grabbed her purse and keys as she headed out the door.

  The call from her father was just what she needed to put things back in perspective where Masaun was concerned. Her plate was already full and she didn’t have room to add anything or anyone else in her life right now.

  As she drove eastbound on Interstate 264, she kept repeating one thing over and over in her head.

  This isn’t a date.

  ~YH~

  From his seat at their table, Masaun watched Kindle rush in the front door of Crocs. She paused and he watched her take a few breaths, as one closed fist pressed tight to her stomach and the other hand clutched the strap of her purse. A mask of calm appeared to drop over her features and she moved toward the waitress who walked to the foyer and greeted her.

  They spoke briefly before the employee escorted Kindle across the restaurant toward him. Rising, he watched Kindle. Unlike most of the other female customers in the place who were dressed in various after-five casual and sexy apparel for an evening by the oceanfront with dates or friends, his dinner companion was not.

  Kindle looked as if she were meeting someone for a business dinner or possibly having dinner on her way back to work. His gaze was drawn to her shoes, some kind of a leather bootie-style heels around four inches in height. The shoes showcased her creamy chestnut-brown legs and the muscle tone. He wondered if she were a runner. Lifting his gaze, he took in her apparel. She wore a straight, burgundy skirt that stopped just below her knees. It was conservatively cut, however, it could not hide the round curves of her hips. The skirt was paired with a white long-sleeve blouse that was tucked into her skirt and buttoned to the leather-trimmed collar that matched the adornment at the cuffs of the shirt. Both of the leather accents on the blouse caused his mind to shift to another image and another place. His gut tightened as a picture flashed in his mind of Kindle naked and only wearing a bondage collar snug around her throat, cuffs locked together and the shoes on her feet.

  In her conservative apparel she made him want her even more. Both as a sexual partner and a submissive, in either scenario he wanted to watch her come undone. Starting with the bun at the back of her head.

  “Good evening, Kindle. You’re late.” Masaun, still standing, kept his gaze on her eyes.

  “Excuse me.” Kindle glanced to her left, looking at the waitress who was still standing beside her, most likely waiting for them to be seated so she could take their drink orders. When Kindle’s gaze shifted back to him, she had a small smile on her face, tight at the corners. “I believe we agreed upon five-thirty.”

  “Check your watch,” he commanded.

  Again, she shifted her eyes to the waitress before Kindle pushed up her left sleeve and glanced down at the thin watch on her slender wrist. Kindle’s eyes met his again. “It’s five-thirty-two, which means I was at the door at the exact time then crossed the room and debated with you for at least thirty seconds.”

  “Which may have put you at the table at five thirty-one. You’re still late.”

  The corners of Kindle’s mouth pressed together. Masaun could practically see the clockwork gadgets in her mind spinning. He figured she didn’t appreciate being called to task by anyone and especially not in a semi-packed public place. He doubted Kindle would admit embarrassment, but he could see the signs in her mouth, the squint of her eyes and the tilt of her head just oh so slightly to the right. As a lawyer, she would be analyzing her options, give in or stand her ground or walk away.

  “I could leave.” The walking away ploy was her choice.

  “You could,” he countered, purposely pushing her to her limit. As a Dom and a trainer, he had to see what made her cave. Everyone had a hard line.

  He noticed her hands balling into fists at her sides. They were so tight that he could see the skin pulling across her knuckles. Kindle took a deep breath and let it out slowly as the veneer of calm draped her features. Masaun was beginning to dislike the falseness of the expression.

  “I don’t like to waste my time or gas. Since I’m here already, I can at least hear you out and conclude our business for good.” Kindle’s voice was smooth, crisp and professional as if she were prepared to give dictation.

  Why won’t she show her true emotions? She had every right to be pissed at him for the way he spoke to her. He’d even expected it.

  Shifting his gaze to the waitress, he said, “We’ll have two waters at the moment, please.”

  Looking relieved to finally be able to leave, the waitress handed them their menus then mumbled something about being right back before strutting away quickly.

  Kindle started to take her seat, across from his chair at the two person table, when he stepped around behind her and held it.

  Once she was settled, she glanced up over her shoulder at him, her eyes slightly widened with surprise. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.” Returning to his seat, he figured that Kindle spent most of her time meeting with colleagues, men who were so used to treating “Kin” as an equal, they forgot she was a woman. Evidently, Kindle forgot she was more than just a lawyer as well.

  Leaning back in her seat, she eyed him across the table. “You know, Mr. Hawkes, I’m not used to anyone calling me to task as you just did. I’m not a child.”

  Purposely, he moved his gaze from her face and allowed it to slowly lower past her chin, along the column of her neck to her breasts held high beneath her top. When he met her gaze again, he allowed her to see the heat simmering in his body through his gaze. At every o
pportunity, he was prepared to make sure Kindle clearly understood the last thing he wanted from her was business. “No, you’re not.”

  She swallowed.

  The waitress brought the water and a basket of fresh baked herb French baguettes. Reaching out, Kindle took it from the woman’s hand instead of waiting for the tall glasses to be placed on the table.

  “I’ll give you two a few more minutes to decide and be back,” the waitress said, then darted away again.

  After a few sips, Kindle set the drink on the table. “Mr. Hawk—”

  “Unless you plan to put the handle Dom before Hawk, I suggest you call me Masaun.”

  When the small, pink tip of her tongue came out and glided over her bottom lip, he had the urge to pull her across the table and kiss her. He didn’t. Instead he pulled his gaze from her mouth back to her eyes.

  “You insist on calling me Kindle when I prefer Kin. It’s only three letters, not so hard to use. Everyone else can manage it.” She snapped open her menu, as if that concluded the discussion.

  “I’m not one of your work associates. Neither am I like everyone else, which if you have not noticed, I’m more than willing to demonstrate to you.”

  That got her eyes to rise from her menu to him. “I’m not even going to ask in what way.”

  He gave her a small smile. As private as he was about his lifestyle, there were many things he could execute with her and no one in the restaurant would be the wiser to his actions.

  Even if she didn’t know that, she wasn’t willing to call his bluff as she had done with the time.

  “A wise woman. Have you found something to your liking, Kindle?”

  Her gaze lowered to his pale blue dress shirt and rose to meet his eyes once more then shied away to her menu again. “Everything looks good. I’ve only eaten here one other time.”

  “I’ve been here at least a dozen times. You can’t go wrong with anything you order.” He drank some of his water.

  She looked at him. “It makes sense now why you haven’t looked at your menu.”

  “Are you ready to order?” The waitress stood beside their table with a small pad in one hand and a pen in the other.

  He allowed Kindle to order first.

  “I’ll have the pan seared sea scallops, please.”

  The waitress jotted Kindle’s request on her pad. “And you, sir?”

  “Your five pepper tuna steak. We’ll have a bottle of your Bonterra organic brought out with dinner if you will, please.”

  “Absolutely. An excellent choice, sir, it will complement the seafood very well.” With a smile, she took the menus and left.

  They sat there for a moment just staring at each other. Kindle was the first to drop her gaze as she reached for her water.

  “You look very nice tonight, Kindle. Chic. Professional.”

  “Thank you.” She took a tiny sip of water.

  He realized she was using it more as a prop than to actually quench her thirst.

  “I would have thought you’d go a little more after-five attire.”

  She looked down at her apparel then at him. “This is my casual look.”

  “I highly doubt it.” He was transfixed by her face. Her creamy complexion was accented by her narrow brows, round eyes that turned up slightly on the outside corners and her mouth. A thick, wide mouth that was fuller on the bottom than the top. The corners lifted naturally as if she were made to smile more than she did. She had yet to smile for him and he ached to see it and see pleasure reflected in her eyes. “However, I understand why you’ve chosen to garb yourself in such a way.”

  “Garb myself. You sound as if I put on armor.” Her laughter was hollow as she sipped her water again.

  He leaned forward slightly. “Didn’t you? Business armor, something you were comfortable with. Anything to set this evening in a professional atmosphere.”

  “Well we are here to discuss your offer. So what we are conducting is—”

  “Personal. No, way around that, Kindle.” He sat back.

  She took a bigger drink, this time appearing as if she did need it to fortify herself, and then set her half empty glass down.

  “Emmalee, who you know as Lolli I believe, told me that you and your brother own the candy shop.”

  He gave her a small smile at the change of subject. “Yes. For five years now.”

  “I wouldn’t think that nostalgic candy would be a profitable business.” Her comment was a put down, but also held curiosity.

  “Amazingly it is. However, most of our customers come for the hand-crafted chocolate and other specialty candies offered,” he said. He couldn’t help but notice that Kindle appeared a little more relaxed with the benign discussion about Decadent Treats. That was the only reason he was allowing her to stretch it out. He wanted, no needed her to be comfortable with him if what he was going to propose between them would work.

  “You make chocolate?” Her face brightened.

  “Yes. If I’d known you liked it, I would have brought you a box.”

  Her nose wrinkled on the bridge a little as she scrunched it up. “I don’t mind it. However, I’m really a caramel kind of girl.”

  “I’ll remember that.” It was in that moment his mind shifted to something simple and erotic, a fantasy that had nothing to do with his bondage lifestyle at all. But, the image of him pouring warm caramel over her body and watching the drizzles pool and stream along her breasts, stomach and thighs as he compared the two shades of brown before he licked it off of her, knocked him a little off balance. He could not recall the last time he’d been shaken by a seductive thought or fantasy since embracing his dominant side.

  The thought was so innocent and lover-like that he took a deep breath to steady himself. Picking up his water, he drank and allowed the cool liquid to restore his senses.

  “I never pictured you as a candy maker. A candy gram stripper maybe, but not elbows deep in powdered sugar.”

  A stripper? That was a first. He set his glass back on the table. “You thought I was at your office to strip for you? Would you have wanted that?” What was he doing? He never flirted.

  Her gaze lowered from his face, beyond his shoulders and to his abs. The heat in her gaze across the table could have caused his clothes to go up in a blaze. His gut clenched in response.

  She looked at his eyes then away and her hand lifted but lowered just as fast, as if she was trying to keep from picking up her water again. “Um…you have to know Emmalee and I were in undergrad school together. It would not have been far off.”

  “I bet you have stories.”

  “More like secrets that should remain buried deep in a vault below twenty feet of cement.” That’s when her eyes met his and she smiled. A real smile that caused her russet-brown eyes to light up.

  The sparkle in her golden brown eyes and her wide mouth stretched held him spellbound and his cock hard and fully erect. There was one thing he knew for sure now—pleasure on Kindle Langston looked good. Damn good. He wanted to cause the same glow in her eyes after he’d taken his strap or flogging to that sweet, high, round ass of hers. Then he wanted to know what she sounded like when she sighed with satisfaction and reached sub space. If she ever truly let go, he knew he could take her there.

  “Well, I will respect your privacy and not ask any questions.”

  “Thank you.” Her smile became smaller, but didn’t go away. “However, something tells me that you know I would probably look for you to reciprocate with stories of your youth.”

  “The years of my undergrad is not a tale for a lady’s ears, trust me.”

  “What were you pursing in college? Besides co-eds.”

  One side of his mouth pulled up into a smile. Kindle had a snappy sense of humor, he liked that. “Law.”

  Her lids stretched wide and her body jerked forward. “You’re a lawyer?”

  “Used to be. Financial and business law was what I practiced.”

  The waitress returned with their Lebanese-inspired
entrees and placed one before Kindle and the other in front of him. A male waiter stood behind the waitress with their bottle of wine. Taking it from him as well as the empty wine glasses, the waitress began to pour.

  Masaun stopped her. “I’ll take care of that.”

  “No, problem, sir. Hope you both enjoy your meal. If you need anything else, I’m Mandy.”

  They thanked her and Mandy left with the male employee.

  Kindle picked up her napkin from the table and placed it on her lap. “This looks delicious.”

  He tipped the uncorked bottle above Kindle’s glass first and then filled his before setting the wine down on the table.

  “No doubt that it will taste just that way.” He draped his napkin over his thighs as well. Cutting into one of her scallops then twirling her linguine with sun-dried tomato and basil cream sauce topped with pine nuts onto her fork with it, she asked, “So, how did you go from lawyer to candy maker?”

  “Actually, Sweet, my brother, is the creative one. I stay far away from his kitchen with the exception of making sure he’s stocked with his ingredients and he likes it that way. I handle the business side of things.” With his fork, he broke off a flakey piece of blackened tuna and ensured he added some of the garlic rosemary mashed potatoes beneath the fish. Just as it was every time he came to Croc’s, the food was perfectly married with the spices. He followed that bite up with a taste of his sautéed vegetables.

  “Oh, my…this is truly wonderful. Even better than I remembered from the one time I’d been here before.” Her tongue glided along her bottom lip as if searching for any missing droplets.

  His gaze tracked her tongue as he reached for his wine. Lifting his glass, he sniffed then tasted the wine. The small amount he allowed on his tongue of the Mendocino County, California, blend was rich and buttery with honey almond notes and a citrus blend that flattered the chef’s seafood creation. As good as the food and wine were, Masaun would wager his favorite dragon tail whip that Kindle would taste better.

  “Glad you like it.”

  She ate and swallowed another bite. “So, have you ever practiced law?”