The glare Carlos continued to give him did nothing to sink his mood. “Can’t you give me any hints? Anything she likes?”
Clearing his throat, Carlos moved behind the edge of the counter and adjusted himself. His voice was rough when he answered. “She likes to scream when she comes.”
“Asshole.” Morgan chucked the remainder of his doughnut at Carlos’ head. “Did you do any D/s with her?”
Carlos’ voice was still rough as he said, “She’s submissive to the bone and has a very kind heart, but no, we didn’t do much.”
Morgan put on a mock horrified expression. “Master Carlos went vanilla?”
“I didn’t say that.” He contemplated the last of his doughnut. “Once I got her into the right headspace she responded beautifully, as if she was born for it.”
Now it was Morgan’s turn to hop down from the counter as his pants tightened around his erection. A true submissive. Doms dreamed of finding a woman like her, and spent lifetimes searching. She was the ultimate prize. All that stood between her and him was his best friend.
Shaking away the pang of guilt mixing with his elation, he tried to keep his voice casual. “Did you show her your dungeon?” Each man had converted the fourth bedroom of their apartment into their own private playroom. Morgan had partied with Carlos and their subs more than once in his playroom and was intimately familiar with his toys. The thought of Violet spread open on the St. Andrew’s cross made his cock twitch.
Carlos took a drink of his coffee then gave him a smug grin. “No. I’m afraid we didn’t make it any farther than the hallway.”
Morgan’s grip on his coffee tightened until the cup made a warning squeak. “Tell me everything.”
“Nope. You’ll have to figure her out on your own.”
“Awww, come on, man! Just one hint!” Morgan tossed the half-empty cup into the garbage next to the stainless steel fridge. His nerves were so on edge that he was afraid he was going to spill it all over himself if he tried to drink it. He felt as if he were back in high school, getting ready to go on his first date. Well, maybe not exactly like that. He never wished for his first dates in high school to end up with a girl chained spread-eagle to the wall while he fucked her.
Carlos grunted and tapped his finger against his lip in a mock contemplative pose. “Well, I guess I could tell you one thing.”
Trying to appear casual and failing miserably, Morgan made an impatient gesture.
Carlos rolled his eyes. “She likes the finer things in life. Upper-class all the way.”
Morgan rubbed the scruff on his chin and quickly rearranged his plans. He was going to take her to a Red Wings game and then to a nice but casual Greek restaurant that he loved. If she had refined tastes like Carlos said, he’d better step his game up. God knows Carlos oozed class and Morgan was going to be damned if he didn’t show her just as good a time as Carlos did.
Mind focused on the future, Morgan pulled out his phone and began to scroll through the numbers. “Thanks, man,” Morgan said and headed for the door.
Carlos arched a brow and crossed his arms over his chest. “Where are you going?”
“Gotta go. Things to do, women to woo.”
As he closed the door he thought he heard Carlos laughing, but wasn’t sure.
* * * * *
Violet opened the door for her elderly client and smiled down at her as the white-haired woman handed her a five-dollar tip. “Thank you, Mrs. Slivok, I’ll see you next week!”
Already walking straighter, Mrs. Slivok nodded. “You’re a miracle worker. I don’t know what I would do without you.”
“You’d be making Jason a very happy man.” Jason was the resident hunk of the spa that all the older women swooned over. He was happily married and Violet adored his sweet Filipino wife, but it didn’t stop anyone with estrogen in her body from melting beneath his smile.
Speaking of which, when Violet turned around she spotted Jason at the receptionist’s desk trying to avoid the bleach-blonde massage therapist plastered to his side. Calling her a therapist was kind. Bethany, the spa’s receptionist and Violet’s best friend, referred to her as Wendy the Cock Wrangler. Bethany insisted that most of Wendy’s male clients left after less than twenty minutes with her, sweaty and smiling. Violet didn’t know if she believed that, Bethany had a tendency to exaggerate, but she did know Wendy was a world-class bitch and saw Jason’s refusal to cheat on his wife with her as some kind of fucked-up challenge.
The shapely woman was brushing some imaginary lint off his broad shoulder as he tried to talk on the phone. Bethany was doing her best to run interference from her seat at the glass and chrome front desk. She tried to move the big black leather chair she was seated in between Jason and Wendy, but Wendy merely moved over to the other side and continued to paw at Jason.
Though Bethany was short, she reminded Violet of a tough little housecat who didn’t realize she wasn’t a panther. Bethany was Chaldean and her Middle Eastern heritage showed in her nutmeg-brown skin and impossibly thick curly black hair that fell in ringlets to her waist. It especially showed when she switched to Arabic to call Wendy several unflattering phrases that she had taught Violet. Bethany and Violet seemed like an odd combination of best friends on the surface, but they had immediately clicked when they met four years ago and Violet valued her friend’s honesty and had learned to deal with her lack of tact.
Spray-tanned and cosmetically enhanced, Wendy grated on every one of Violet’s nerves. It wasn’t just the fact that she constantly threw herself on Jason, it was also the way she treated the other female employees of the salon. It also didn’t help that Wendy bore a resemblance to the nurse that Dr. Kenny had dumped her for. They were cut from the same cheap and tacky cloth.
In Wendy’s world you were either someone that had to be sucked up to, competition that had to be eliminated, or so beneath her that you weren’t even worth noticing. Violet knew which category she fell into. It was apparent in the way that Wendy refused to move when Violet tried to get past her to fill out her client’s information in the computer. Clearing her throat, Violet said in a loud voice, “Excuse me.”
Wendy glanced over her shoulder with her overinflated upper lip lifted in a sneer. Instead of moving out of the space between the big receptionist area and the wall, she pressed herself against Jason. Bethany chose that moment to give another push with the back of her chair, which turned Wendy’s glare from Violet to her. “Your last appointment for the day canceled, Vi, and a package came while you were with Mrs. Slivok.”
Jason hung up the phone and Violet moved to the other side of Bethany and dug a bottle of water out of the small fridge beneath the desk. She didn’t hear what he said, but Wendy’s fake laughter grated in her ear. She stood back up and found Jason safely on the other side of the desk, close enough to the men’s room so he could make a break for it if Wendy came after him.
“Talked to Mr. Volun yet, Jason?” Mr. Volun was the owner of the spa and Violet had been nagging Jason to talk to him about Wendy’s behavior. So far Jason had refused, claiming that they would never believe him because he was a guy and Wendy made the spa a lot of money, especially with her male clientele.
Violet was to the point where she was going to complain if he didn’t. It wasn’t right and she was never the kind of person that could stand idly by when someone else was being hurt.
Without looking up from his mail he muttered, “No.”
His one-word answer was abrupt, bordering on rude, and she blinked at him in confusion before Bethany said in a chipper voice, “Here’s your package, and it came with a note.”
Before she could say anything, an elegant box wrapped in royal-blue paper with a gold bow on top was thrust into her hands. Bethany handed her a cream-colored envelope with her name done in elegant cursive on the front.
Shaking the box gently, she asked, “Who brought it?”
“Some older guy in a really nice suit with a ruby pinky ring too big not to be real.” Bethany tw
irled her chair around to face her as Wendy tried to pretend not to be interested.
“Huh.” Placing the box on the counter, she opened the envelope and pulled out a thick sheet of cream paper.
My Blushing Violet,
Thank you for one of the best nights of my life. When I told you that you had beautiful eyes, you seemed to doubt me. I hope you’ll wear my gift and remember that I never lie.
Carlos
A giddy happiness filled her and she giggled as she reread the letter again.
He thought her eyes were beautiful.
“Well?” Bethany tried to snatch the letter from her but Violet held it to her chest. “What is it?”
“Remember the date that I went on last night? It’s from him.” While she hadn’t filled Bethany in on all the details, she had enjoyed being able to share her excitement with her.
“Ohhhh.” Bethany’s dark eyes glittered with excitement. “The Sith Lord?”
Wendy made a snort of disgust but Jason finally looked up from his mail with a small smile. “Sith Lord?” he asked and arched his eyebrows.
Ignoring all of them, she carefully slid the bow off the box and opened the lid. It revealed a large black velvet case with an elaborate H embroidered on the front in gold thread.
“Holy shit,” Bethany whispered. “Is that from Hendricks?”
Wendy peered over her shoulder and said in a dismissive tone, “It’s probably just a knockoff. No guy buys you a present from Hendricks and doesn’t give it to you himself.”
Violet swallowed and toyed with the small gold catch on the box. “Maybe he just liked the box and reused it.”
“For the love of God, open it already,” Bethany said as she hit a button on the phone and sent an incoming call to voice mail.
She lifted the lid and gasped. Inside, nestled against white silk, lay a necklace and pair of earrings made of green jade interspaced with creamy pearls. The apple-green stone glowed in the overhead lights and Bethany stood from her chair to look. “Wow.”
Unable to form a coherent sentence, Violet stroked her fingers over the beautiful jewelry. She had never owned anything nearly as gorgeous as this. The centerpiece of the necklace was a single creamy pearl as big as her thumbnail.
Glancing up at Bethany, she caught Wendy’s stunned expression before she narrowed her lips into a thin line and stomped down the hall. Jason leaned on the counter and let out a low whistle. “That’s beautiful. This guy must really like you.”
Heat flared in her cheeks as she blushed. “Maybe.”
Bethany hooted. “Maybe? Darlin’, if a man sends you something like this there is no maybe about it.”
Looking closer, Jason glanced between her face and the box. “Nope. He likes you. No guy would pick out jewelry the exact color of your eyes if he didn’t like you.”
Bethany grinned at him. “Oh, you’re right!”
Stunned, Violet continued to run her hands over the jade. This was the color of her eyes? Could it be possible that they were pretty? The foundation of her world shifted as she considered the ramifications. Was it possible that all those years of putdowns by her sister had led her to actually change how she viewed herself? The thought made her feel sick and her stomach twisted into a hard knot.
“Earth to Violet. Your cell phone is beeping.”
“Huh?” She put the box down on the counter with a longing glance and fished her phone out. A text message was waiting for her.
Violet, I can’t wait to see you. I’ll be waiting for you at the fountain in front of Neiman Marcus in Troy at 5 p.m. Barney
“Oh crap.” Violet jammed her phone back into her white work pants and ran a hand through her braid, which was starting to come unraveled. Thank God her work was only a few minutes away in West Bloomfield. “Glad my last appointment canceled. Barney wants to meet me in front of Neiman Marcus in an hour. I thought I was supposed to meet him there at five thirty, but he wouldn’t say what we are doing. How am I supposed to dress for a date when I don’t know what to wear? Should I wear something nice? What if we go rock climbing? If I wear a pair of jeans and some sneakers we could end up at some fancy dance club and I’ll look like his ugly little sister. Not that I know if he even has a sister. What if he has a beautiful sister and I meet her and she thinks I’m ugly? Thank God I let you wax me because I never would have had time to shave and no one wants a prickly—”
Bethany shouted, “TMI!” while Jason stared at her. Even though he knew her well enough to be used to her vocal freak-outs, he certainly didn’t need to hear about her personal hygiene.
“Barney?” Jason asked and shut the jewelry box, tugging it away from Bethany and handing it to Violet. She took the jewelry and felt a sharp pang of guilt. What kind of woman was she that she accepted jewelry from one man that she had just had sex with before going out on a date with another man? True, Bethany was always telling her that sex didn’t equal love, and commitment took two people, but she couldn’t help hearing the mental voice of her mother chastising her for being a slut.
Bethany laughed and clapped her hands together, snapping her out of her morose thoughts. “I’m so excited for you!” Catching Violet’s look of panic she rolled her eyes and wrapped Violet’s hands around the jewelry box. “Go get your bag out of your car and bring it back in here. I’ll help you get dolled up, and you can go meet mystery man number two. Have a great time and don’t forget to call me when you get home. After my dating dry spell, your nights out have become the highlight of my life.”
“That is so sad on so many levels.”
“Tell me about it.” Bethany’s brown eyes sparkled as she herded Violet out the door and handed her her purse and keys. It never failed to astonish her how Bethany could move faster than the speed of light and get you to do what she wanted by sheer force of will.
Shaking her head, Violet headed out into the fading afternoon light and smiled.
* * * * *
Violet stood frozen in the middle of the crowded mall and became a rock, which the stream of people flowed around. In all of her most wild imagining she had never, ever predicted that Barney was one of her most naughty fantasies come to life.
Literally.
With his shoulder-length blond hair pulled back into a black leather thong, he looked like a Viking in a thousand-dollar pearl-gray suit. It had to be custom made, nothing else would have fit his big body so well. Especially that thick neck and those impossibly broad shoulders. He leaned against the edge of a fountain displaying a massive marble ball seemingly rotating on its own axis like a planet.
A very fitting backdrop for a man who had the magnetic draw of the sun. Women hovered around him, shooting admiring glances and blatant come-hither looks his way. He ignored them all and scanned the crowd.
She quickly ducked behind a stand selling sunglasses and wiped her sweating palms on her brown suede skirt. It wasn’t the fact that he was devastatingly handsome that was causing her panic attack. She knew him. Knew every inch of that perfect profile, but this was the first time she had seen it in anything but black and white.
Barney was one of the men from the BDSM photography book that she had listed on her profile. She was used to seeing him frozen in time, giving the woman on her feet before him a look of such dominance that it never failed to make her panties wet. She knew how good he looked with his shirt off, in a pair of black leather pants with that thick blond hair falling loose over his neck.
She had to get out of here right now. The humiliation of seeing his disappointment at the sight of her shriveled her stomach into a tight ball of misery. Dressed in her best skirt and cream angora sweater she had felt pretty when she left the spa. Now she felt fat, frumpy and hopelessly outclassed.
“Violet?” a deep voice rumbled from behind her and she jumped, scattering a bunch of sunglasses to the floor with a plastic clatter.
Her worst fears came true as she turned around and found Barney smiling at her. “That’s me,” she said in a squeak before dropping to her
feet and picking up the sunglasses. When she looked up she found him beaming down at her and was reminded that they mirrored the position in the BDSM book. Heat seared through her veins and she gathered the sunglasses with shaking hands.
“I didn’t mean to scare you,” he said in a soft voice as he crouched next to her and helped her return the sunglasses to the display. “I thought I saw you, then you vanished.”
She couldn’t think of anything to say that wouldn’t make her sound like an idiot. When his warm hand slipped into hers, she nearly hyperventilated. So big, his hand engulfed hers in rough heat.
“Morgan,” he said in a low voice as he tugged her back toward the fountain.
“What?” Being this near to him scrambled her senses until all she could do was stare up at him.
“My name is Morgan.” He gave her a wink that made her heart pound harder, if that was even possible.
“My name really is Violet,” she said in an embarrassingly breathless voice. “I’m named after my great-aunt Violet. She’s eighty-five years old and still makes my mom bring a monthly copy of Playgirl to her in the nursing home. She and the other old ladies all gather in her room together and the one with the best eyesight reads the erotic stories at the top of her lungs to the others, ’cause a lot of the ladies have hearing problems. You haven’t lived until you hear an old woman yelling about balls slapping off someone’s ass.”
Morgan stared at her and she wanted to die. Her runaway mouth didn’t help the situation. “I don’t have Tourette’s Syndrome. I just babble when I get nervous.”
To her shock, he threw back his head and roared with laughter, drawing startled gazes and answering smiles from the passing crowd. As his chuckles tapered off into wheezes she tried to pull her hand out of his. His grip tightened and the last of the laughter faded from his face. “Would you like to know what we’re going to do tonight?”
Blushing Violet Page 6
