by Sara Brookes
Her gaze met his and he watched the anxiety drain from her face. “In fact, I was.”
“Is that because you enjoyed it or because I'm a good kisser?” he teased.
Her laughter was light and she sipped her own coffee. “This is where I'm supposed to tell you that you're pretty self assured and full of yourself.”
That wasn't an answer to his question. “But?”
“You're right on both counts.” His head fell back as he gave a deep laugh. “Shall we leave and go to my house or yours?”
He'd swallowed the coffee in his mouth luckily because otherwise, she would have worn it. “Well, you certainly don't waste any time once you've set your mind to something do you?”
“I've done a little soul searching the past few days and decided I analyze things far too much. While that is certainly a good work ethic, it's not necessarily so when it comes to sex. My body's trying to tell me something and for once, I'm going to listen. I've decided I want something, Patrick, and that something is you.”
Her narrowed gaze caused a rush of heat to flood his groin and he covered the uncomfortable press of his cock by shifting in his seat. He reminded himself they needed to slow down a little so he could stick to his own set of carefully constructed rules. “Before we convene to somewhere better suited to both of us, why don't I clarify something.” She gave him a curious look but he continued on, determined this time things would not fly off track between them. “I require something from my lovers that makes some people...uncomfortable.”
“Like what?”
Her curiosity was an aphrodisiac all its own. Someone could make a fortune if they managed to bottle it. “Let's just say, I have an affinity for a certain amount of restraint.”
“Restraint? You mean like handcuffs?” she whispered.
Silver flashed as he played with the piece of silverware the waiter hadn't yet cleared away. Handcuffs. If only it was that simple. He sometimes wished it was. Then others moments, he basked in the fact it wasn't. He was quite fond of his particular affinity for leather and never hid it from the woman he decided to share it with. “My tastes go beyond handcuffs, Allison.”
It was inevitable for her face to become a riot of emotions. However, she surprised him. “I'm a big girl, Patrick. If you're trying to deliberately scare me off by telling me you're into kinky stuff—it's not working. In fact, it just makes me want to know more.”
There was a defiant glint in her steely glare and a signal she meant exactly what she said. He folded his hands on the table as his nerves jumped with anticipation.
Why the hell am I so anxious about telling her what I like?
It was as if he were twenty years old again. He pushed away the lingering doubts and plunged in feet first. “Fine. I'll start this conversation by telling you there are ground rules we both have to abide by before this goes any further.”
“Why?”
This was always the hardest part for most people. To understand, that for him, it wasn't just about the leather or fancy words. More than jumping each other to fuck until they were both satisfied. It was so much more.
“Trust plays a huge role in what I'm talking about and part of developing the trust is having a conversation such as this before anything physical happens. That way feelings and emotions don't cloud everything. Now, tell me Allison, how much experience do you have with dominant and submissive roles?”
She didn't appear to be taken aback by his question, which he took as a good sign. “About the same as most people who are curious, I think. Had a boyfriend once who used an old plastic clothesline once to tie my wrists to the bedposts of his bed. To be honest, it wasn't exactly comfortable.”
No, it certainly couldn't have been and he cursed the bastard who'd done that to her because it was entirely the wrong way to go about things. Stupid young male hormones tended not to think about the consequences of their actions when sex was involved. Women should be cherished and appreciated, not hog-tied like something that was only useful when the man didn't want to jack off with his hand.
There was one bright spot in her admission. While she said it hadn't been comfortable, she didn't deny that she'd liked it. He saw it as a focal point and latched onto that piece of information. “So you enjoy that sort of thing, being the recipient of something done to them as opposed to initiating the act?”
Allison coughed once and took a drink of water before she spoke again. “If you're asking if I'm aggressive, no. Though it's not as if I've had a whole lot of experience with that sort of thing, either, but that's only because I've always been the best friend instead of the girlfriend. All through high school and college, I kept my head buried in books and computers. Video games too, when I had the time. When my friends, most of who were male, wanted to get together, it was for RPG. Not to take me on a date. To be honest, not much has changed in those years since then. To answer your question, yes. I think I much prefer being the submissive in terms of what you're talking about.”
“You know, role playing can be good.” His gut tightened at the thought.
She made a noise he thought could be classified as a grunt. “Not when it's for dragons, elves and wizards. Not exactly high on the sexy meter. I was just one of the guys. To be honest, I'm still content with it.” Her shoulder lifted in a shrug and for some reason, he got the distinct impression she wasn't being honest—with him or herself.
“Are you really?” he asked quietly.
A rush of breath fluttered the napkin in front of her and Patrick knew he'd struck a chord. “No. But it always sounds better when people ask instead of spouting how sexually frustrated I am. There are only so many times I can use my hand or whatever vibrator I happen to pull out of the drawer that night. A girl can only date her hand for so long. I'm babbling again in addition to spouting off an embarrassing amount of TMI.”
Despite the sudden outburst of information, he understood her predicament and sought to reassure ruffled feathers. “It's very informative babbling. You're not afraid of toys and such things. It means you have an open mind about sex. Most people can't say that about themselves. Sure some people pretend about it to the rest of the world but do you think many actually admit to owning or using toys to help get them off? It's highly doubtful.”
“Well then you're welcome to do a little informative babbling of your own.” Her arms crossed as she sat back in the chair. “What about you? What were you like in high school?”
There was her effort to turn the table on the conversation again and he conceded the point for now. He'd wondered when it would come out since she seemed too strong-willed of a woman to leave it under wraps for long. She deserved to know a little about him other than just his sexual interests. Besides, trading stories about their youth could prove interesting. Not only would it let her know they weren't so different, but would also serve to reassure any lingering concerns she had about spending time with him in a more intimate setting. “Typical jock throughout high school and college.”
“Where did you go?”
Where he'd attended college wasn't as important as the fact that he'd done whatever possible in order to be a pro at avoiding responsibility for long stretches of time because he'd been in denial about the new reality. “UVA. Got my business degree there. I blew out my shoulder senior year and took it pretty hard but my mother forced me to stay since I was so close to graduating. Baseball was all I knew up to that point and not being able to play forced me to take a long, very hard look at my life and what I wanted out of it.”
“Oh shit, you're that Patrick Conners.” Her eyes went wide in surprise and her fist banged against the table. The remaining dishes shook in response to the violent motion.
“Every morning when I wake up,” he responded with a quiet chuckle. It had been a while since someone had pointed out who he was. Back in school, it hadn't been that unusual of an occurrence. In fact, when he'd still played, he'd done everything he could to make sure everyone knew who he was. Now, because of the injury, he did
his best to avoid anyone who might recognize him. They reminded him too vividly of what he'd lost. He'd long since come to terms with the change in his life because it allowed him go into business with his brother in this wonderful town they'd found situated in the mountains.
For the very first time ever, he was actually glad for the injury and the decisions that brought him to this point in his life. Lived any other way, he may not have arrived at that very moment in time and the very gorgeous and entertaining woman sitting across from him.
“Sorry. My brothers are sports nuts. Any sport, any score and they could spout statistics to you as if it just happened. They were fanatical about baseball when we were all still living at home. I heard stories about you. About how you blew out your shoulder during the final game of the—crap on buttered toast—there I go again. I'm sorry. Somehow I seriously doubt you want to relive something like that.”
Nervous, she rubbed at the line on her temple, and despite her frustration, he was amused. It wasn't an annoyance from Allison—if fact, he rather liked it. Oddly enough, it gave him a thrill that she knew about him long before he'd met her—even if it was in name only. “I like hearing you talk about me that way.”
“So when did you figure out this whole...thing?” Her fingers hit the edge of the water glass as she waved her hand with a flourish and scrambled to catch it before water spilled everywhere.
She righted the glass before shoving a hand through her hair in frustration. The thick fall of her hair tumbled around her shoulders as she pulled out the tie that held it back. His fingers itched to run through it. He could almost feel the texture against his palms as he cradled her head while she sucked him dry. His body shivered in anticipation and the nervous energy in his stomach melted away. It was replaced with lust.
If that was the only reaction she experienced after listening to what he asked of a lover in bed, then he was ahead of the game. A potential lover once spit in his face and called him various names he'd never heard before. Inventive names, but needless to say, that talk hadn't gone well. Nervousness was definitely something he could handle from Allison and decided to soothe her worries. “It's all right. You can call it what it is.”
“And that is?”
“BDSM.” Her face blanched and he offered a hand across the table. He squeezed in reassurance when she took his hand. “That's an umbrella word, Allison. A catch-all. Your immediate thoughts are probably not even close to the reality.”
The waiter returned at that moment with their check and Patrick cursed him silently for his lousy timing. He signed the thin slip of paper with a flourish, then stood and took her hand again. She followed with a nod of reassurance. As soon as they were a block away from the restaurant, he swung around and backed her against the wall of bricks of the old building. He fit his fingers against her chin as he tilted her face up. Comforted by the clear resolve in her eyes, he softened his voice to ensure that she was reassured by what he had to say.
“I'm not going to beat you into submission. In fact, I won't hit you in any way. I'm not particularly into the whole spanking for punishment or pleasure. Regardless, this isn't about pain or humiliation. It's also not about making you feel less about yourself or feeling worthless. I don't discipline. You're an adult and perfectly capable of making your own choices. The last thing I want to do is have you feel any amount of animosity toward me because I've done something you don't like.”
“That's very encouraging.” She chewed her lip again and he desperately wanted to kiss her worries away. He saw her blank look and read it as apprehension. She confirmed it a second later. “But if I don't know what I do and don't like?”
Her question sent a hot slash of emotion spiraling through him and before he gave into his desire to kiss her, she needed to know she wasn't in this alone. “Then it's a journey we shall take together, if you'll have me.”
She nodded and rested her hands against his chest. Pleased she didn't push him away, Patrick held still, allowed her to use him for support. “Since I'm obviously the one on the less experienced side, I should probably be the one asking you if you'll have me.”
He played a hunch, pushed his hips against hers and was rewarded with her quiet intake of breath. “There should be no question that I want you, Allison. I thought you would have been able to tell from the kiss at the movie theater that I do. But just in case there's doubt left, allow me to give you small demonstration.”
His mouth claimed hers, hot and passionate. It was a possessive kiss, nothing at all like the one he'd asked for at the theater. He wanted her to realize he intended for her to be his. She gave a soft whimper and the ripple of it traveled through his body. Instantly intoxicated with the sound, he desired more.
But not here and not now.
What he had in mind was too explicit to carry out on the street. While he would never overrule sex in public, right now he didn't think it would suit either of them.
He tore his mouth from hers and found himself fascinated by the glazed look in her eyes, the tinge of pink on her lips. He was eager to see what other surprises were in store for them.
“Come to my place with me and we'll find our way together.”
[Back to Table of Contents]
* * *
Chapter Five
Allison had agreed without hesitation and they'd spent the half hour stroll from The Copper Nickel deep in a discussion about their jobs and daily life. As mundane as it sounded, she'd actually learned quite a bit about him. By the time Patrick stopped in front of a large brick building and turned to her, she felt utterly at ease with him. Enough so that she wondered why she'd made a fuss at the movie theater a few nights ago. She'd meant what she'd said to him earlier about the search through her soul.
Relationships had never been a priority for her since puberty and the realization just how good-looking some men were. There had been a small handful of less than meaningful dating experiences in high school and even fewer sexual encounters in college. Certainly nothing that compared to how Patrick had made her feel at the movie festival. It intrigued her enough to call him and accept his dinner invitation in order to find out more about him. To hear about his interests did nothing to deter her despite the inexperience. She had always been open to new possibilities and right now, he was definitely someone she wanted to teach her things that expanded her horizons.
Her attention returned to him and he flashed her with a mischievous grin. “What is this place?”
“It's a warehouse. I share rent payments with a few others.” Allison watched as he dug around in the pocket of his pants and pulled out a small ring of keys. “After college, I fell into a habit of buying properties, fixing them up and then selling them off for a profit. Came across this place and I just couldn't let her go. I actually own the whole building outright and my apartment is on the second floor. I charge the three others rent and put it toward upkeep for the entire building. Since I'm the owner though, I named the place Sanctuary.”
Lights flickered on as she stepped through the front door. The bare wood in front of her created a long hallway that stretched out to the left. It resembled a typical warehouse, with exposed steel beams overhead and plain gray concrete floor underfoot. Her shoulder pressed against the wall and watched as he slid the ring of keys over a hook next to the front door. “Is Nick one of the other renters?”
“Uh, no,” he said with a quiet chuckle. “Nick's not interested in anything that goes on in here.”
The bolt on the door slipped into place as he turned the lever to lock the door. A twinge of nervous energy coursed through her at the metallic sound and she ordered the butterflies in her stomach to settle. She was committed now and had been since he'd first mentioned his interests at dinner. While she'd never partaken in anything like he referred to, it didn't mean the thought had never crossed her mind before. Something told her that Patrick would do what he could to ensure they both had an enjoyable time, especially after the way he'd kissed her after dinner.
&nb
sp; Around him she felt special and needed to explore how much further those feelings went. The thought of all this excited her and she'd felt a tug deep within her when he talked about dominance, submission and bondage. She'd believed him when he swore he didn't delve in the darker side of the world she knew existed but never stepped in.
She was curious to know just how dark her own desires ran.
“So, Sanctuary? Just what goes on in here?” she teased as he punched in the numbers on the alarm control panel next to the front door.
He turned and slid her hand in the crook of his arm as they walked down the hallway. So not only does he ask for permission to kiss me, he also walks beside me and holds my hand.
She had the distinct impression Patrick believed a man should take great care of the woman in his life. It flew in the face of the conversation about restraints and BDSM. At least as far of as her knowledge of the terms went. Realizing he said something, she focused her attention on him.
“Various things happen around here, depending on whose company you're in. They're all friends of mine which is how this all got started in the first place. We discovered a mutual interest for things outside of the norm and here we have it.”
Wow. She could never talk about this sort of thing with her friends. He was lucky to have people who kept his confidence, especially in a town with a large population influx every few months. “You know there's a sex club just outside of town, before you get to Old Man Reever's Ranch. Elementals or something. Why couldn't you just go there?”
“Element Twenty-Six. So named after the element—”
“Iron,” she interrupted with a quiet laugh. Stupid high school chemistry labs. “The twenty-sixth element in the Periodic table. Quite clever for a sex club actually.”
“Very much so. Have you been there?”
