Welcome to Eden
Page 4
"Thanks for the lesson,” she sighed, then rolled away from him, pulling the sheet with her.
"Whoa,” he grabbed her arm. “Where do you think you're going?"
"I really should be getting home,” she said trying to slide free. Then just as quickly as he had done earlier she was pinned, but this time under him and back on the bed.
"Evan, let go,” she breathed.
"Since when did you start giving the orders?” He reached into a drawer in the nightstand and pulled out a set of handcuffs.
"W-what are you doing?” She stared at him, a new wave of heat pooling in her stomach as he cuffed her to the headboard. He didn't answer.
"Evan, unlock these,” she protested in a weak voice but couldn't hide her smile.
He leaned down and put his lips to her ear. “You keep ordering me around like this and I'll end up having to gag you. Know what that means ... no safe word."
She shivered at the thought as she felt his cock grow hard again and press between her legs. The man was incorrigible. “You can't possibly be suggesting another..."
He rotated his hips and ground himself against her. “Sweetheart, I'm just getting started."
* * * *
A week later, sunlight filtered between the horizontal blinds in Caitlyn's office as she took a seat behind her desk and reached for her customary mug of water. Pleased with the successful outcome of today's session with Janet, she smiled. It couldn't have gone better. And all because of her night with Evan Chambers.
She breathed a long sigh and pulled off her glasses to massage her temples. With seven days since their sensual encounter and no word from Evan, she knew what had happened. He was a one-night kind of guy. She could live with that, even though she would miss him. He was one of those men who left their imprint on a woman, the kind who remained the fixation of a woman's fantasies for years to come. Either way, she would never regret the experience. Never.
Fifteen minutes remained until her next session. Caitlyn decided to take that time to slip off her shoes and curl her toes into the plush carpet, massaging her sore feet. The buzzer sounded. “Yes, Beatrice?"
"Your five o'clock is here,” the disembodied voice replied through the speaker.
"Okay, send him in.” Caitlyn searched her desk for a fresh notepad and pen as she always did with new patients.
The door creaked and she heard Beatrice announce Mr. Black's arrival.
"Just give me one minute to get organized here,” Caitlyn said, reaching for her glasses. She was blind as a bat without them when not wearing her contacts.
"There's no hurry, I'm booked for the hour.” At the sound of the low creamy drawl, Caitlyn shoved her glasses on and stared across her desk. An instant butterfly danced in her belly. Evan seated himself on the long leather sofa, reclined and stretched his hands behind his head.
"What are you doing here?” was all she could say as she locked onto those midnight eyes.
"Didn't you hear your assistant say I'm your five o'clock?"
Confused, she shook her head. “You're Mr. Black?"
He shrugged. “I was never very inventive."
She continued to gape while trying to compose herself. “You do know that by making the appointment you just took an hour away from someone with a real problem and—"
He held up a hand. “But I do have a real problem, Doctor. You see, after a long, heavenly night of making love to a beautiful woman, I awoke to an empty bed—my male ego completely shattered."
Caitlyn snickered at his melodramatic tone. “I didn't want to wake you."
"Not even the courtesy to leave a note.” He clucked his tongue and pushed himself up from the sofa, then sauntered toward her desk. “You're a hard woman to track down, Dr. Ward. I was forced to use all my resources just to get your last name."
She covered her mouth with a hand to hide her sudden smile. That's why he hadn't contacted her—in the heat of the moment and all the excitement that night, she never once told him her last name. Talk about persistence. Los Angeles was a big place.
The sweet and spicy scent of his cologne filled her nostrils when he stopped in front of her desk. She creased her brow and stared. “That still doesn't explain the appointment or the name change."
He braced his hands on the desk and leaned closer. “After your silent little exit the other morning, I wasn't sure if you would want to see me. I couldn't take the chance of you saying no. I needed to see you again."
Her insides twisted with happiness. “Well, now that you've found me, what can I do for you?"
He reached to the inside pocket of his suit jacket. A set of silver gleaming handcuffs dropped onto the desk in front of her, and she gasped then looked to the door as if Beatrice might suddenly appear. “You can't be serious. This is my office,” she squeaked, her cheeks warming.
He arched a brow at her. “Come with me willingly, and I won't be forced to use them."
Her heart jumped into her throat at the idea of him using those on her again. “Come where?"
"Dinner. Our reservations are at six."
She rose from her chair and slowly circled the desk. “Like a date dinner?"
When he nodded, she slid her hands up his muscular chest and pressed herself against him. He groaned at her slipping a knee between his legs and running it up the inside of his thigh.
"And, if you promise never to leave me in bed by myself again, I might even buy dessert."
She winked at him and smiled. “I think you're all the dessert I need."
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The Awakening
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Torn between fantasy and reality, Natalie Kendrick wakes each morning on fire, haunted by passionate dreams of Alexander, the nineteenth century gentleman she believes saved her life fifteen years ago. But when living outside the erotic dream world they share becomes unbearable, she seeks the help of a dream analyst. The solution seems simple: dream suppressants. But can Natalie bring herself to forever shut out the only man she has ever loved—from her head, her life and her heart?
To purchase The Awakening and other erotic titles, visit www.thewilderroses.com.
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