tremble like a warm, hungry little baby bird. Your body melts against me, then stiffens up, shivering. Afraid. Fighting against itself. Even your hand is vibrating.” She snatched her hand away, but it didn’t stop the honeyed torrent of his words. “All that heat and need. You have the kind of tension I know just how to work into an explosion.” The way he looked at her made her breath catch in her throat.
She kept her head. She kept her hand to herself. “I’m not interested.”
“Liar.” He appeared willing to allow it, though. He even shrugged. “No means no, here. Unless negotiated otherwise.”
She looked at him.
“It’s true.” He looked back at her, curious. “You really haven’t been to a club like this before. I wonder what’s made you so suspicious. Who took advantage of your submissive nature?”
His proximity intimidated, but she stiffened her spine and didn’t back away. “I am not submissive. And, for your information, I won’t be coming back here.”
“What a loss for everyone.” He reached out, hesitated a moment. “Tell me yes.”
“Okay. I mean no! I mean—”
He laughed too quietly to hear above the music, but she saw it. He grasped her arm. Not hard, but firm enough to make a point. Her body thrummed with a need she thought was gone forever. Fear rode hard on it, an immediate and irrational urge to free herself immediately in any way she could, to run—just so she could have the ecstasy of him capturing her. Claiming her.
She concentrated on taking deep breaths.
When she dared to look at him again, his gaze was soft as a caress. “I see,” he murmured. He released her. He spoke with gentleness. “Who was he?”
“My ex-husband.” She blinked, felt the surging bass of the music drive into her bones, trying to drive away the anxiety if only she’d let it.
She refused to let it. “It’s complicated. The divorce was cordial and we’ve stayed friends. We share custody of my dog. Everything’s worked out fine. Why the hell am I telling you this?” The words had just popped out of her mouth.
“Because I truly want to know. Because your instinct tells you to trust me, to give yourself to me. Because you want to know me intimately.” He smiled, confident.
“You’re assuming entirely too much, buddy.” With an effort, she wrenched her gaze away, though his words continued to tie her into pleasurable knots inside. “I know nothing about you,” she murmured.
Somehow he heard her. “It’s early yet.”
“Much too early for trust.” She found she could think more clearly and speak more loudly when not meeting his gaze. Annoying. Unacceptable. She bore down, looked at him squarely. “Would you trust me? Trust me to lock you up so I can ask you some questions? I imagine there’s some sort of torture room for that around here.”
She expected him to take it as the hypothetical, smart-ass comment it was, but he just looked at her with kindly tolerance. “If it would make you feel better.”
She felt her eyebrows lift in surprise, but nodded. “Okay. It’d make me feel better.”
He laughed, a sound that heated her further. As he led her down one of the recessed stairways, she had to remind herself she didn’t want him for anything except answers. He had zero hold on her, regardless of what he seemed to think. She’d make sure of it.
For someone who wasn’t traditionally good-looking, he was awfully arrogant. True, he exuded an easygoing charisma, effortless intelligence, a wicked level of flirting ability, and a masculinity that licked out at her.
It wasn’t just her who reacted to him, either. Women and men going up and down the stairs turned to watch him pass as if he radiated a vitality that drew their gaze like a magnet. Greetings were exchanged. He seemed to know everyone, have his eye on everything. Made sense, if he owned the place. Maybe he only managed the place. Not that it mattered one way or the other to her.
The music and noise of the
She kept her head. She kept her hand to herself. “I’m not interested.”
“Liar.” He appeared willing to allow it, though. He even shrugged. “No means no, here. Unless negotiated otherwise.”
She looked at him.
“It’s true.” He looked back at her, curious. “You really haven’t been to a club like this before. I wonder what’s made you so suspicious. Who took advantage of your submissive nature?”
His proximity intimidated, but she stiffened her spine and didn’t back away. “I am not submissive. And, for your information, I won’t be coming back here.”
“What a loss for everyone.” He reached out, hesitated a moment. “Tell me yes.”
“Okay. I mean no! I mean—”
He laughed too quietly to hear above the music, but she saw it. He grasped her arm. Not hard, but firm enough to make a point. Her body thrummed with a need she thought was gone forever. Fear rode hard on it, an immediate and irrational urge to free herself immediately in any way she could, to run—just so she could have the ecstasy of him capturing her. Claiming her.
She concentrated on taking deep breaths.
When she dared to look at him again, his gaze was soft as a caress. “I see,” he murmured. He released her. He spoke with gentleness. “Who was he?”
“My ex-husband.” She blinked, felt the surging bass of the music drive into her bones, trying to drive away the anxiety if only she’d let it.
She refused to let it. “It’s complicated. The divorce was cordial and we’ve stayed friends. We share custody of my dog. Everything’s worked out fine. Why the hell am I telling you this?” The words had just popped out of her mouth.
“Because I truly want to know. Because your instinct tells you to trust me, to give yourself to me. Because you want to know me intimately.” He smiled, confident.
“You’re assuming entirely too much, buddy.” With an effort, she wrenched her gaze away, though his words continued to tie her into pleasurable knots inside. “I know nothing about you,” she murmured.
Somehow he heard her. “It’s early yet.”
“Much too early for trust.” She found she could think more clearly and speak more loudly when not meeting his gaze. Annoying. Unacceptable. She bore down, looked at him squarely. “Would you trust me? Trust me to lock you up so I can ask you some questions? I imagine there’s some sort of torture room for that around here.”
She expected him to take it as the hypothetical, smart-ass comment it was, but he just looked at her with kindly tolerance. “If it would make you feel better.”
She felt her eyebrows lift in surprise, but nodded. “Okay. It’d make me feel better.”
He laughed, a sound that heated her further. As he led her down one of the recessed stairways, she had to remind herself she didn’t want him for anything except answers. He had zero hold on her, regardless of what he seemed to think. She’d make sure of it.
For someone who wasn’t traditionally good-looking, he was awfully arrogant. True, he exuded an easygoing charisma, effortless intelligence, a wicked level of flirting ability, and a masculinity that licked out at her.
It wasn’t just her who reacted to him, either. Women and men going up and down the stairs turned to watch him pass as if he radiated a vitality that drew their gaze like a magnet. Greetings were exchanged. He seemed to know everyone, have his eye on everything. Made sense, if he owned the place. Maybe he only managed the place. Not that it mattered one way or the other to her.
The music and noise of the
Similar Books
