“I’m not picky, let’s see whatcha got.”
The rug in front of his fireplace was soft and furry, the fire providing the sweetest ambience, but my ability to use chopsticks was disturbing my tranquil thoughts.
“How long have you had the boutique?” he asked between bites of sesame chicken.
“It’s been mine for four years.”
“Was it always your dream to own a store?”
“No, actually the opposite. My mother opened it when I was about twelve, and when she passed away, she left it to me with only one stipulation—I couldn’t sell it. Lucky me. I never had any interest in it when she was alive; it was her thing. Little did I know it would become my lifeline in more ways than one.”
He fed me a bite with his chopsticks. “I’ve always thought about opening my own social bar. I even have it named. Happetizers. I thought it would be great to serve wine and craft cocktails with small plates of food during happy hour, with a jazz band for later in the evening.”
“Why don’t you?”
He kissed my lips slowly and then fed me more food. I really didn’t want any more to eat, but the way he did it was arousing. No, make that intoxicating.
“Medicine takes me away from Oliver so much I don’t want to do any more than I have to. It would have to be one or the other.”
“Take on a few partners and share. Perhaps one day you could make it your life.”
“Brooks and I kicked the tires with the idea a couple of times. So much change in such a short period of time, I don’t know. It’s on the back burner for now.”
“How long have you known him?”
“Since med school. He was chief resident when I first met him. We’ve been friends ever since. His wife was from here, so as soon as he could, he got them moved back from California.”
“He seems like a nice guy. His wife is stunning. She’s been in my boutique before, I believe.”
I pushed the food away from me, a universal sign I wanted no more and yet he continued to try and feed me, so I got up from the floor in search of more wine. That’s when I realized I’d had enough of it too.
Dizzy from the alcohol, I stumbled and crashed to the floor. It didn’t hurt, and I started giggling from my embarrassment.
He rushed to my side and helped me up on the sofa. “Are you okay?”
“Oh, yes, just call me the fall princess because I fall ungracefully all the time.” I giggled so hard I snorted.
“I love your laugh.” His eyes were fixed on mine as he snuggled in beside me.
“You do?”
“Yes. It was the first thing I noticed about you.”
A puzzling statement, and I stared at him. The first time I remembered seeing him was the day he moved in, and his dog ran up to me. I supposed I laughed and just didn’t recall it.
“When I viewed the house with the realtor, you and Shawna were out front, and you were giggling with her. I heard you.”
I hadn’t noticed him, but I was happy to know he’d paid attention to me and to minute details.
“That’s sweet. So, the dog coming to greet me in the mornings with the newspaper wasn’t a coincidence.”
“No.”
My breath hitched. I quickly realized he’d been admiring me from afar. It had been years since anyone had noticed I was alive. “Last Sunday at church?”
“Relax. Purely by accident. I’m not a stalker. But, I’m glad to have bumped into you.” He picked up a remote from behind the sofa and music started playing from speakers around us.
“Me too.”
He angled his head, leaned forward, and his lips lingered on mine. It was the only connection of our bodies, and my skin prickled with need. The crackling of the fire and the sexy notes in the air added to my desires. The man knew romance.
His two hands gripped each side of my face, but he pulled his mouth away from mine. “What are you doing to me?” he whispered.
“Me? By confession, you clearly started this.” I let out a slight laugh.
“Yes, and I want to be inside you again. I can’t get enough. Is that wrong?”
No answer, just a shake of my head.
He took the hem of my T-shirt and lifted it up over my head, tossing it to the floor. With a thumb and finger, he pulled at my bare nipple before sucking it hard in his mouth.
“Braless, nice. Your breasts are so full and beautiful. Hmm, commando too?” His eyes were dancing in the reflection of the fire.
I didn’t answer him, but watched his eyes drift down to my yoga pants. When he pushed me back flat on the sofa and slid his hand inside the thin black fabric, I knew he was about to find out the answer to his question.
“Fucking hot. You don’t have any panties on, and you’re so wet and ready for me.”
Instead of pulling my pants off, he stood up and gripped my hand. “Come to bed with me.” It wasn’t a question.
He led us down a winding hallway to the back of the house on the opposite side of where we’d been. It was a large home, but very cozy at the same time with lots of smaller, quaint rooms.
His bedroom was different to what I’d imagined. The large, king-sized iron bed was in the corner and flanked by windows on each side, both with fabulous views of the illuminated pool. The dark navy and crème decor seemed out of place to me. Perhaps I would’ve taken him for a black and red guy, bold colors for sure. A large ship was the focal point on the dresser, and artwork of vintage ships were displayed on the walls. He watched me as I took it all in. The look on his face seemed a bit sad.
“Do you sail?”
“Sailing was my second life, but I sold my boat when we moved here. Being the fourth generation of sailors in my family, I’m sure it didn’t go over well.”
“I’ve never been sailing.”
“Next to sex, then surfing, it’s my favorite relaxing thing to do.” He winked.
My hands shoved at his chest. “You’re so bad.” He laughed with me.
“Then be bad with me?”
“What do you have in mind?” My stomach flipped in knots. What on earth have I got myself in to?
He opened a drawer at the bottom of his nightstand and pulled out a package. Before he answered, he opened the plastic, and I could see he was holding what looked like black silk ropes.
“Let me restrain you.” As he unfastened the wrapper holding the ties secure, he watched intently for my reaction.
Air filled my lungs. Oh, hell no.
Sounds, I could not make. Nothing. Swallowing hard, I fought to calm my nerves and find my voice. Technically, I didn’t really know this man, and all of a sudden, I was having crazy sex with him. Mind-blowing, fantastic sex, but still, I didn’t know him. Shawna’s words rang out in my mind.
“I, uh, look… I don’t know you that well and I’ve never…”
He tossed the ties back in the drawer and gripped both my hands, pulling me to sit on the bed with him. “When we started making love earlier, I could tell you weren’t confident with yourself or your image. I know this by the way you tried to hide yourself. What I don’t know is who fucked with your head. You are hot. Your body is beautiful, and you should be proud of it. You’re so responsive. Being restrained makes you vulnerable, yes, but it also helps you to understand and embrace sensations you can no longer hide from or—control. It actually gives you sexual freedom.”
“And you know this how?”
“I’ve studied the art of sexual pleasure.”
I thought for a moment. I looked at his body, and the dark, primal lust emanating from his eyes. “You’re a Dom. Look, I’m no sub. You’ve picked yourself the wrong girl.”
I slid my legs from the bed and tried to stand, but he pulled me into his lap. “So, let me get this straight,” I said. “You want to tie me up and in some miraculous way, show me sexual freedom from my fears. You think you know me so well, but yet I barely know you. So tell me, doc, what are you afraid of?”
I wanted to challenge him, see if he’d expose his own
weakness or perhaps be caught off guard and not know what to say.
“You.” He swallowed hard.
His chin was at my eye level, and I viewed the clenching of his jaw before the rise and fall of his chest taking a deep breath.
“You make me feel things and think too much about things I haven’t thought of since Olivia, and that scares the fucking hell out of me.”
Brutal honesty and disclosure—took me by a thunderous storm inside my chest, holding my breath hostage.
His shoulders went limp with his confession. Vulnerability controlled both of us in far reaching spectrums, although by the same token placing us on an even playing field.
That was, until he opened the drawer and retrieved the ropes.
We sat in silence while music played in the background. He pulled me tightly to his chest and held me, running his fingers through my hair. “I’m no Dom. I don’t believe in having a sexual slave. I do like using toys and apparatuses for pleasure, but you will never call me Master or Sir, and I will never ask for a contract or command you to do something.”
“You’ve never been to one of those chamber places?”
The quiet became maddening to the point I couldn’t stand it. With my hands on his chest, I pushed away from him to maneuver a stare down.
“Yes, I’ve been. Here and California.”
The elephant landed in the room.
“Care to share more?”
“Not really.” He scanned my face. “Look, that scene was uncomplicated sex, where I didn’t have to worry about fuckin’ lunatic girls who were only ‘husband chasing’ or going to complicate my son’s life with a relationship I didn’t want. And don’t downplay BDSM before you understand it.”
“So…you don’t have a red room of pain?” With a slight laugh to relinquish a bit of my anxiety, I tried to let my body relax against his.
The racing of his heartbeat thundered away under my ear—a roaring engine held captive by imaginary breaks he was ready to release the moment I said yes.
“Don’t believe everything you read.” He paused and extended his arm out. “This room is decorated for calmness and tranquility. Something you’ll understand soon.”
Nodding, I agreed. “Okay, I’ll do it.”
“Everything we do will be based on trust. You will have to trust I’ll bring you pleasure beyond anything you’ve ever known and know I will never, ever hurt you.”
Luxurious layers of his hair felt silky between my fingers as I nervously entangled them. “Uh, hmm…okay.”
From that moment on, he didn’t rush me. Every move was slow and calculated, while he seemed to absorb each of my reactions.
The black silky ropes were wrapped about my wrist in some form of a special pattern before being secured to the headboard. They didn’t scare me; in fact, the urge to touch him overpowered my anxiety of full body exposure.
“Discovery is pure intoxication.”
“Really, how so?”
“I have a silk blindfold. By covering your eyes, you’re forced to feel. Other senses will be enhanced as well.”
Complete darkness took away a piece of unspoken freedom when he covered my eyes.
Cold. I felt something very chilly and wet on my belly and dripping in my navel. “Are you putting ice on me?”
“Um, hum,” he uttered as I felt his head burrow between my thighs.
God, the coldness of his mouth blending with the heat of my sex had my clit so hard I thought it would do damage. When he finally took me between his lips and sucked, a tidal wave of ecstasy pummeled through me, but the restraints kept me confined and exacerbated the sensation. Sweat beaded my forehead, and I felt the drips run down the side of my face.
His mouth was cold again as he sucked and bit at both my nipples. I knew I would have passion marks left behind by the amount of time he stayed in one place.
He was marking more than my body; he was marking my heart…taking it for his.
My legs were freed shortly before I felt him at my entrance. It was easy for him to slide inside me; I was soaked from the foreplay and slick from my own climax. The thrusts were quick and hard at first, then slowed to a softer rhythm. Sometimes my legs were up, sometimes they were wide apart, but with each position, I knew he was studying my body and my responses… And he was removing my insecurities one layer at a time. I no longer cared if he looked at me. In fact, I got to the point I thought I might die if he ever stopped.
The rhythm picked up, and the pace of his breathing did as well. Soon, he was moaning, “Fuck”, as I sensed the pulsing of his climax deep in my womb. It went on forever, and I was grateful for the condom, since I wasn’t on birth control.
Birth control. That was the first time I’d thought about going back on the pill, even though the chance of getting pregnant was slim to none with my medical history.
What I’d give to have another child.
Knowing what he felt like naked inside me was something I craved to experience. All the unused pill packs at home in my bathroom drawer had been going to waste.
The mattress dipped beside me. My body was flushed from my orgasm, but chilled from the room air without his skin next to mine.
“Turn over, baby,” he said.
A tight tug on the ropes at my wrists confirmed I was still bound.
“There’s enough room for you to move, your hands will cross above your head. There’s a towel on your right side, just roll over on it.”
Responding to his request suddenly allowed my self-conscious monster to flood my thoughts, knowing he was studying my ass.
What do we need a towel for? My mind went crazy with ideas.
When he touched my shoulders and I got the first sensation of slickness and pressure on my muscles, I moaned.
“You like this?”
“Love. I didn’t realize how sore one could get from sex.”
He chuckled. “Babe, we’re just getting started.”
Oh. My. God.
His hands were big, and he knew what to do with those long fingers. He rubbed my shoulders and back before allowing his hands to drift further down my body. He even paid attention to my calves and feet.
Thoughts about the day we’d had lunch after church flooded my mind. I remembered looking at his long fingers and wanting to know how they would feel burning up my flesh.
This was no ordinary massage. The man had serious skills women would’ve paid hundreds of dollars for, so there was more to Mr. Skilledhands than what I knew thus far.
“Did you go to massage school or something?”
He hummed. “I did my undergrad in sports medicine. So, yes, we did the massage therapy courses. Like it?”
“Freakin’ love it. Love. Love. Love.”
His hands stilled.
Fuck, I said the L-word.
He moved beside me on the bed, but didn’t get off, as far as I could tell. Then I heard the flick of something familiar, but I couldn’t place the sound.
The sting of heat touched my upper back and then trailed lower. It was very hot for only a split second before it turned to warm. The fragrance of a candle burning quickly hit my senses.
Hot wax. He was dripping hot wax down my body.
For the love of all that’s holy, where did this sexual angel drop from?
“Hmmm,” I moaned.
He was quiet, and at first, it was weird, but I soon realized he was focused intently on pleasure and sensation, and paying attention to each of my reactions and responses. Talking would’ve been a distraction.
“Hot wax,” he uttered.
“I figured it out, and I like how it feels.” I watched the use of my L-word.
Then he dripped wax on me again; it stung at first, and immediately, it felt very cold.
Ice.
He began alternating the sensations. His teasing was taking me to new heights, and all I wanted was for him to fuck me. As he continued to do it, my body screamed for him. Finally, I did too.
“I don’t care how, but
fuck me now.”
My hips were lifted in the air, and he shoved his cock in me so hard, I saw stars behind my eyelids. If it was heaven, I was as close as I’d ever been.
Close, God, so close.
“I’m coming,” I announced.
“Me too,” he echoed and then emptied himself inside me before collapsing on top of me.
We stayed like that for the longest of time, both of us panting hard. When he finally untied my hands and removed my blindfold, I found myself too limp to move—sated beyond my wildest dreams. He got out of bed and discarded the condom.
When he returned, he pulled me over to his chest and covered us with the comforter. The bracelet was in full view, and I twisted it.
“Beloved,” it read.
“Tell me about this meaning. It’s from your wife?”
“She gave it to me right after we were married.”
“What was she like?” Propping on his chest, I ran my fingers through his hair.
“She was complicated. To the outside world, she was fun-loving and carefree. Oliver was her life, and she was a good mother for the few months before her death.”
His eyes were no longer focused on mine. Pain reared an ugly vibe, instantly putting an imaginary crevice between us. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have asked.”
“No, it’s okay. You two are as different as darkness and light. Olivia was a tormented soul who always needed control of everything. She had to have the last word and not one thing could go anyone else’s way. We had great sex, but she pushed the limits every time. She was the first to introduce me to clubs. Some of the things she craved…I could not do.”
Being naive to the non-vanilla world, my imagination began to run away from. “Oh.” Not wanting to ask, I gave him the floor to talk, only he went quiet, and before long, we were both asleep.
Streaming rays of sunlight tickled my face, waking me. The space where my incredible lover had laid with me the last few hours…empty.
Chapter 9
Dressed in my scanty outfit from the night before, I searched for him everywhere, but the house was empty, and I couldn’t find so much as a note. When I opened the garage door, his car was gone. I called his cell and heard it ringing on the charger next to the bar. So much for preparedness.
Conflicted on 5th: A 5th Avenue Romance Novel, Book One (5th Avenue Romance Series 1) Page 6
