by Qwillia Rain
“You're probably looking forward to next Tuesday.”
“That's five days away. If you mean I'll be happy when Alayna gets back, you're damned straight.”
“Come on”—Dane leaned against the wall next to the sink—“you can't tell me I've been that impossible to deal with.”
No way would she admit anything to him, good or bad. “No, but with Alayna around I can concentrate on my cooking and not—”
“Not what? Not having to stay in control all the time? Not going home by yourself?” He followed her back to the counter as she covered the setting chocolate with cheesecloth and slid it onto one of the wire cooling racks.
“Not having some bossy bastard make decisions for me,” she snapped, getting in his face as he leaned against the wall between the walk-in refrigerator and the ovens.
“And you've loved every second of those decisions, Ariel. Admit it.”
“That's sex, Dane. I'm talking about—”
He shook his head and crowded close, backed her up against the refrigerator, and braced his hands on the brushed chrome, blocking her in. “It isn't only sex, Tink. I've done a hell of a lot to give you time to focus on your food. You just don't like admitting that it's nice not to have to be in the driver's seat for once.”
“Not true.” She ducked under his arm and squeezed past him. “I like to be in charge because I'm good at it.”
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“In the kitchen maybe, but not in the bedroom. Or the office.” Dane grabbed her arm and swung her around to face him. “As many times as you've found excuses to come into the office, and as quickly as you take to my direction, it's obvious you'd rather submit than dominate.”
“Are you back to that?” There was no way Ariel was going there. The fact that part of her knew he was right only made her more determined to deny it.
“It isn't like you can refute it.” Dane let her go and crossed his arms over his chest as he gave her an assessing look. “It isn't as if you've made any effort to change my mind.”
Hackles up, she planted her hands on her hips and glared up at him. “Really? And who is it who's been avoiding the kitchen? Hmmm? I don't see you coming in here to get the supply orders or to help me check stock.”
“I've been here nearly fifteen minutes, Ariel, and you've made no effort to direct me,” he pointed out.
“I've work to get done. I don't have time for screwing around.” She turned her back on him. Ignoring the shiver of awareness that skated up her spine from his attention, she gathered the red paddle from the marble along with the other tools she'd used to work on different preparations for the next day's sweets.
“Then put me to work,” he suggested. “Commands don't have to be centered on sex.
Rituals are often involved in D/s relationships.”
“Rituals?” Ariel's steps slowed as she crossed to the sink and set the tools in the wash water.
“Everyday, mundane tasks can be incorporated into the routines preceding or following play.” Her confusion must have been apparent when she turned to face him. After a significant pause, but before she could ask exactly what he meant, he elaborated. “Preparing the clothing to be used in a scene that will be acted out. Taking a shower either alone or together, or a bath.
Those can all be considered rituals.”
Ariel could feel her cheeks heat as she recalled the directions he'd given a few days before when they'd stepped into a shower together. Having already climaxed several times, she'd considered their bathing together a preparation for sleep.
She'd been wrong.
Now, based on the connection he made to routines, she could see how the careful cleansing of a partner's body could factor into both play and everyday behavior.
“So if I told you to clean the dishes in the sink and get them into the dishwasher, you'd do it?”
Dane didn't bother to respond. He crossed to the sink, grabbed the scrub brush from the ledge, and set to work removing the larger food particles stuck to the pans before he loaded them into the industrial dishwasher.
When he finished, he drained the sink, wiped his hands, and carried the towel to the bin for laundry before turning to face her.
Ariel hesitated, then ordered, “Wipe down the counters.” She would have told him the steps to take, but again he surprised her by going immediately to the cabinet containing the cleaning supplies. He was methodical and careful as he rubbed the cloth over the top at least four times before getting a new cloth and striding to the next counter.
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A flicker of satisfaction tingled in her belly. Every time she'd entered the office over the last ten days, his directions to her had been more sexual than focused on completing work.
Ariel's mind conjured pictures of the less wholesome and more erotic tasks she could direct him in.
When he finished and put away the supplies in their respective places, he leaned against the supply-closet door and waited. She could see his thoughts taking on the same sexual nature they'd followed in the office. And the temptation was there. The urge to order him to bare his cock to her, to direct him again, to show him the power she could wield over his body's needs.
But now wasn't the time. Later. She'd planned everything so carefully for tonight. If she allowed herself to give in now, her plans for the evening would be anticlimactic.
“Wash your hands.” She nodded toward the sink.
Dane held her gaze as he soaped his hands, then rinsed them. After drying them on a fresh towel, he crossed the room to stand in front of her, an arm's length away.
“We both have some work to do,” she said. She ached to ignore her brain, but she couldn't.
At least not yet.
“Am I excused to return to the office?” Dane asked. There was no tone of curiosity or confusion in his voice, but she could see it reflected in his blue eyes.
Why don't I feel satisfied at keeping him off balance? Ariel nodded. “Some of the paperwork is done. I was able to total up today's sales and get the deposit slip filled out before placing it in the safe. I left the other reports for you to finish.” She glanced at the huge white analog clock on the wall above the sink. “I don't think it should take you more than an hour.”
“I'll see what's left to be done.” He stopped at the kitchen door leading to the hall outside the office and told her, “I'll have to go back to my office for an hour or so. The emergency this morning not only delayed my coming here, but also interfered with me getting reports finished for a new client.”
Ariel tried to still the twist of her stomach. Was he making an excuse to avoid her? Was this his way to place distance between them in preparation for Alayna's return?
“I probably won't get through until well after six, perhaps seven, tonight. If you'd rather postpone dinner to a different night…?”
His question only intensified her disquiet. And why does the thought of him avoiding me hurt? Wasn't that the purpose of all this? Ariel swallowed but stayed calm. “No, I was planning on a little after seven for dinner.”
“Okay. Let me know when you're ready to leave, and we'll make the deposit. Then I'll escort you home.”
Ariel nodded, not trusting her voice. It wasn't supposed to happen this way. She had a plan, and nowhere in that design was there room for falling in love. Not with a man who refused to let her control him. Or who could make her enjoy being controlled and commanded by him.
* * *
Dane had finally finished putting the papers away in the file cabinet and turned to shut down his computer when the buzz from the outer office indicated a visitor. Jordan hadn't mentioned any appointments for this evening when Dane sent him home a few minutes after five.
Clicking through the shutdown procedure, he called out, “I'm closed.” Dane's head came up when a shadow blocked the light at the door.
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“I'll only be a minute, Mr.
Reese.” Grimm's quiet voice practically had the windows vibrating.
“How can I help you, Mr. Dawson?”
“Just Grimm, sir.” He stepped into the room, turning sideways to allow his massive shoulders to fit through the door.
Dane stepped around the desk when he saw the cool look from Grimm's dark eyes. Dane tucked his hands into the hip pockets of his jeans. “All right, Grimm. And please, call me Dane.”
Grimm nodded and drew a deep breath; his thick arms were crossed over his chest. “I want to know what you mean to do with Miss Ariel.”
“I'm not sure what you mean by 'do with her'?” But he had a damned good idea, Dane admitted to himself, trying not to feel provoked by the man's intrusion into his relationship with Ariel.
“She might not admit it or look like it, but Ari is a good girl.” He stepped closer. “Her daddy and mama were nice people, and they would turn over in their graves if I let someone hurt her.” His gaze grew fierce. “Or her sister.”
“You knew Ariel's parents?” Dane tried to deflect the tense atmosphere in the room. “I wasn't aware—”
Grimm shifted, his hands dropped to his hips, and he looked uncomfortable. “I'm sure you know I did some time.”
Dane nodded.
“Well, Ari and Al's folks were good to my mama while I was…away. They even paid for her funeral when I couldn't.” He ran his hand over his bald head, then continued. “After I got out, they helped me get started again.”
“That was nice of them.” Dane waited; he sensed there was more.
“After their parents passed, I kept an eye on 'em.” Grimm's lips thinned. “I don't want them to get their hearts broke over some fancy man who's only lookin' for a piece o' tail.”
Dane crossed his arms over his chest and met Grimm's gaze head-on. “I appreciate your concern, and I think Ariel and Alayna are very lucky women to have you watching out for them.”
For the first time, a grin flickered across the ebony face. “But I should mind my own damned business, right?”
“It would be appreciated.” Dane offered a half smile. “Getting Ariel to admit to anything more than what she wants is hard enough without you mucking up the waters and making her dig her feet in deeper to keep from doing what others think she should.”
The laughter rumbled through the room like the rattle of a freight train's wheels. “Yup, that's Ari. Stubborn little brat.”
“Sprite,” he corrected and then added, “And independent.”
“To a fault.” Grimm shook his head. “That girl would drown before she'd admit it was rainin'.”
Dane motioned him out of his office and into the open reception area. Locking his door, he glanced at the clock and cursed. “Damn.”
“You late to get to her house?” Grimm pulled open the door to the sidewalk.
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“How—”
“The men I have in my house, they like the food. If I can't be around to make sure the girls are safe, I usually set one of them to keep an eye on the café when they're closing up.” Grimm smirked. “They've all had a hell of a chuckle over how quick the two of you have been to get to her place the last week.”
At thirty-nine and with his background in D/s, Dane hadn't thought anything could embarrass him anymore. But heat filled his face knowing that this behemoth and his ex-con friends had been keeping tabs on Ariel's and his activities.
“As long as they stay on the other side of the street and don't try to get too close, I'll concede the point,” Dane grumbled. After he set the alarm and stepped outside, he locked the door and held his hand out to Grimm.
“Thank you for letting me know you're concerned.” He was surprised when the big man didn't try to intimidate him by crushing Dane's hand in his huge fist. “I can't promise I won't break her heart, but I can swear that I don't intend to hurt her in any way. Hell”—Dane chuckled—“most of the time I can barely get her to admit how much she likes me being with her.”
“Well, I have to say, Ariel did pick a man this time and not some boy.” After Grimm released his hand, the smile he flashed Dane showed off the brilliant whiteness of his teeth. “If I thought you'd swing the other way, I'd give my girl a run for her money.”
Dane couldn't help but laugh. “Thank you. I think.”
Grimm glanced at his watch. “You better get going before she starts thinking you've stood her up.”
Dane watched Grimm climb into his big red truck and fire it up before he slid into his own car and drove the few blocks over to Ariel's house. He wondered what her response would be if he repeated what Grimm had said.
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Chapter Thirteen
Ariel took a deep breath through her nose and let it out noisily from her mouth in an effort to still the butterflies ricocheting off the walls of her stomach. She didn't want the dinner to be a romantic one, not with the plans she had in mind. After having gone online to research some of the practices between Dommes and subs, Ariel figured this was safe enough for her first real foray.
The last scene she'd instigated in the dining area of the café had been more about one-upmanship than domination. “The whole purpose of this is to show him that I'm as capable as he is of directing someone to satisfy my needs.” Her voice didn't sound as convinced as she'd hoped it would. Her fingers slid over the black leather bustier she'd purchased the day before and had just put on minutes earlier.
“He's never going to take me seriously. I'm an overgrown cartoon character to him.” She groaned, shook her head, and reached for the first hook. The ring of the doorbell stilled her fingers before she grabbed for the comfortable blue and black plaid flannel shirt she usually wore to bed.
It would cover her up, at least from the neck to the knees. The black leather chaps would be able to pass for pants as long as she kept the shirt on.
She gave the stilettos a mournful look but padded barefoot into the hall when the bell sounded a second time. “I'd probably break my damned ankle with them anyway,” she grumbled.
“I rang—” Dane's gaze drifted from her face down, then paused when he spotted the black leather on her legs and her bare feet.
“Yeah, sorry.” Ariel dropped a quick look down to make sure she'd fastened all the buttons. “I wanted to change into something a bit more comfortable.” She motioned him inside.
After she shut the door, Dane stopped in the entry and cupped her chin. Holding her still, he pressed a soft kiss to her lips and then stepped away.
Ariel's head spun, and her heart stopped at the sweetness of the gesture. Did this mean something significant? Were his feelings starting to deepen to match the ones she had for him?
Whoa! Hold on! What feelings? Ariel gasped at the thought of developing more than a simple attraction for Dane. Something deeper, more significant—that wasn't supposed to happen, was it? Hadn't she already had this discussion with herself at the café? Hoping to dispel her unease, she coughed, then asked, “Uh, what was that for?”
“Because I forgot to do it when I came into the café tonight. And I missed you today.” His gaze was direct, a clear indicator that he wasn't giving her a line.
“Umm, thank you.” She hurried past him and darted into the kitchen to make sure everything was as she'd left it.
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A wine red tablecloth covered the small round kitchen table, and a single red pillar candle sat in the center. There were no plates or silverware, only the three covered dishes placed around table, with napkins beside each of them. The edges and corners of several foil packets were discreetly tucked beneath the dishes and near the base of the candle stand.
“Hmm, looks like you did have something planned.” Dane leaned in the doorway. His gaze roved from the table with the single chair pulled up to it to Ariel.
The heat in his eyes stirred the craving in her belly. The confidence that had wavered, leading her to don the oversize sleep shirt
, resurfaced. Keeping him off-kilter was the key to maintaining power. A gleam in his eye kept her from shedding her cover. Better to have him wonder what I've got on underneath. She could tell his curiosity had been piqued.
Her bare feet quiet against the tile, she padded to the counter, then asked, “Would you like something to drink?”
She poured chilled fruit juice into one of the wineglasses she'd set out earlier. “I have some fruit juice, or wine if you'd prefer.”
“Fruit juice, please.” He crossed the kitchen and stood beside her. His fingers caressed hers as she passed him his glass. “Were you planning on something in particular, Tink?”
“Well, we are in my kitchen.” She smiled, then sipped her juice.
Dane chuckled. “Ah, quite the nice trap there.”
“And I've been reading about rituals.” Ariel stepped to the table and pulled the chair out.
She made sure to tuck the shirt under as she sat down, to keep her bare ass from meeting the chilly seat. “You said Dommes and subs practice all kinds of rituals.” She rolled the stem of her wineglass between her fingers, spinning the crystal slowly on the red cloth.
“And you wanted to experiment?” Dane carried his glass to the table and stood over her.
He set his drink beside hers and cupped her chin in his hand. At the slow caress of his thumb along her jaw, over her chin, and onto her bottom lip, Ariel's nipples pressed against the black silk lining her leather bustier.
Ariel shrugged and fought the urge to shift as arousal wet the triangle of silk covering her pussy. “If you're brave enough to try it.”
Dane held her gaze as he leaned down until he was so close, his face blurred. His lips settled on hers. The damp tip of his tongue caressed her bottom lip before his teeth nipped it.
“I'm all yours, Ariel. Direct away.”
The kiss was short, an exchange of pressure. It offered the temptation of his taste before he stepped away from the chair and awaited her command. Ariel ordered her fluttering heart to slow. She had thought this evening's events out very carefully.
