Bound With Pearls (7 page)

In no time, lavender-scented cleanser filled the bathroom. She had scrubbed every inch, leaving the toilet for last. Her rubber gloves had her hands sweating and pruney. It was time to suck it up and scrub the commode.

Her knees slipped on the damp tile as she crouched in front of the porcelain god. Wrinkling her nose, she levered the seat and lid up, attacking the bowl with her scrub brush.

Her cell phone rang. Glancing at it and back to the toilet, she decided to call it clean and flushed. Stripping off a glove, she flicked the green button and tapped the speaker button from memory.

“Ginny, I thought you’d never call me back.”

“Try again.”

The masculine voice froze her in place.

“Christine?” The tone of voice was authoritative and had her squeezing her thighs together. “Did I interrupt something?”

“No. Sorry. I was cleaning.”

Daniel chuckled. “You don’t run a cleaning company by any chance, do you?”

She sputtered. “No. I work in marketing.”

“I’m joking.” His voice had a warm, chocolate-like quality to it. Her insides quivered, hoping he had a reason for calling her. A reason she’d say yes to. As much as she wanted to see him again, she wasn’t going to be his fuck buddy. “I want to see you again. What are you doing Tuesday night?”

She pumped her fist. Did she blindly trust he’d want more from her than the sex she’d denied them? She’d never know if she didn’t put herself out there. “Nothing. What did you have in mind?”

“I was thinking dinner,” he replied without hesitation. That lack of a pause settled her nerves, at least until she understood what he wanted and she was catapulted to cloud nine. He wanted to go on a date. With her. Excitement and anticipation danced across her stomach in time to the pounding of her heart. “Someplace nice. And take it from there.”

She forced herself to reply with a calm voice instead of whooping with glee. “That would be nice.” Nice? Nice was an understatement.

She got to her feet, leaving behind the gloves and cleansers, and hoofed it into her bedroom. She now had an entirely other problem to figure out. What would she wear?

“Great. I was thinking I could pick you up at six, if you’re comfortable with that.”

His concern warmed her heart. She turned toward the vanity mirror and grinned at her reflection. “Sure. Six sounds good.”

She gave him directions to her apartment and hung up with promises to talk soon. She wrapped her arms around herself and spun in a circle. She was going on a date with a man she’d let tie her up.

Chapter Five

“Chris.” Daniel’s jaw went lax as the door opened. “You look amazing.”

The black strapless dress she wore was artfully draped. She looked sexy enough he considered skipping dinner.

“Thanks.” She flushed, an adorable habit he was growing fond of already.

He stepped through the door and crowded her back against the wall. He had to kiss her. The heels she wore put them eye to eye and thwarted her attempt to act shy. Modesty he could understand, but it took confidence to stand toe-to-toe with him as she had at the dungeon.

Pressing his body to hers, he took her mouth in a slow, open-mouth kiss. Chris wound her arms around his shoulders, pulling him closer, crushing her breasts to his chest. He tasted her, catching a mixture of toothpaste and mouthwash as he reacquainted himself with every inch of her magnificent lips.

At this rate he was going to end up with a zipper tattoo on his dick. As much as he wanted to keep going, he broke the kiss.

“Guess it’s a good thing I didn’t wear lipstick.” She chuckled against his cheek.

He swiped his thumb across her mouth. “You don’t need lipstick.” No, her lips were red enough from his attentions, plus he wanted to kiss her whenever he felt like it. Lowering his hand to her neck, he ran his fingers over the red plastic gemstones circling her throat. “You don’t need these either. Real rubies, maybe.” The dress she wore, with the bare expanse of flesh, was his blank canvas. There was only one piece in his workroom that came to mind for her. It would look better and complement her beauty more, and symbolize exactly what he wanted from her. Could he work rubies into the design?

“What’s wrong with my necklace?” She frowned and glanced down.

“Nothing.” Maybe after tonight he would know if giving her the piece was a good idea. If they clicked again, and Friday hadn’t been a fluke.

He kissed her frown. “You look beautiful.” He cupped her breast and gently squeezed. “Sore?”

She squirmed. “A bit,” she admitted reluctantly.

He pressed a kiss to the swell of each breast. Stepping back, he surveyed her flushed cheeks, kiss-swollen lips and sexy attire. He didn’t know if he’d make it through dinner. “All better now?”

She smothered a laugh and nodded, twisting her hand in his to thread their fingers.

“Good, let’s go.”

He helped her put on her coat and escorted her down to where he’d parked. He was glad to see the building she lived in was secure, even if she wasn’t cautious about sharing where she lived.

“Why did you let me pick you up at your place?” He merged into traffic, glancing at the GPS on the dash.

“You said you were picking me up.”

He could see her out of the corner of his eye, regarding him with a wide-eyed expression. He tightened his grasp on the wheel. “You shouldn’t let just anyone know where you live. It’s not safe.”

“Are you saying you aren’t to be trusted?”

He glanced at her and curled his lips in a slight smile. He liked her spunk. “No, but you don’t know that. You will be more careful.”

“Is that an order or a suggestion?” Her brow wrinkled.

Reaching over, he grasped her hand and held it. Her long, artistic fingers curled around his much larger hand. “Both. What kind of music do you listen to?” He adjusted the volume so a little music spilled through the speakers.

She shrugged, the movement punctuated by squeaking leather upholstery. “Whatever’s on the Top 40. I’m not picky. You?”

“I’m a classic rock man.” At a red light he twisted around to look at her. “How old are you?”

She tossed her curls over a shoulder and gave him a mock gasp. “It’s rude to ask a lady her age.”

He chuckled and reached over to squeeze her knee. He slid his hand up her thigh, pushing the skirt higher. She let her legs relax and open slightly. It was tempting to see what kind of panties she was wearing, if she wore any at all, but this was about getting to know each other.

“I know your other secrets,” he countered.

Her head fell back against the headrest. “I’m about to be twenty-nine.”

When his hand didn’t move, she shifted in the seat.

A horn blasted behind them. He slapped his hand back on the gearshift and gassed it.

“How old are you?” she asked a few moments later.

He bit his cheek. “Thirty-four. Is that too old for you?”

“Five years isn’t that much of a difference. I kind of like older guys. Why? Do have something against twenty-somethings?”

He hit his head on the back of the headrest and laughed. Her sass was refreshing. “Not at all.”

She propped an elbow on the armrest and leaned toward him. “Are we playing twenty questions?”

“Maybe. Here we are.”

He maneuvered the car to the valet, waiting for pedestrians to move out of the way and stealing glances at Chris. She ducked her head to look up at the flame-lit sign. Typically he didn’t splurge on first dates, but this wasn’t really their first time out of the gate. He wanted her to feel special, especially since their introduction had been somewhat forced. In his own way, he was trying to make it up to her. Putting the car in park, he turned to her. Her eyebrows were trying to crawl off her face as the valet opened her door.

He planted a kiss on her cheek. “Wait for me.”

She did as requested, waiting for him to circle the car and take her hand while the valet was left to wish for a woman as beautiful as her. There was already a crowd forming at the door, probably those without reservations since this particular restaurant was regularly booked to capacity. The throng of people didn’t allow for comfortable conversation. Besides, it was fun to watch her eyes steadily grow larger as she looked around at the décor. It was an over-the-top place, but he could forgive the flashy exterior because the food was even better.

Typically he preferred hole-in-the-wall joints where the exterior was questionable but the food mouth-watering. If it weren’t for his business partner Neil, he’d never have stepped foot in such a place. It had only taken one time to make him a fan.

Chris didn’t say anything until they were seated and the maître d’ had left them to their menus.

Pushing his to the side, he focused first on her. “Do you not like the restaurant?”

“No. It’s beautiful. This is great. I’m just trying to take it all in,” she said in a rush.

He smiled and leaned back in his chair. “Good.”

The soft candlelight situated around the dining area did lovely things to her skin. She fit right in with the expensive surroundings. Reaching across the table, he took her hand. He didn’t have to be the Dom here and he didn’t want to be. He wasn’t interested in a slave or a puppet. This was about finding out if their chemistry was real. If it was more than lust.

His mother would love for him to finally bring a girlfriend home. Besides his senior prom date, he’d never so much as talked about girls with his parents except to state that he was straight, and that had become a necessary conversation when his mother had been approached by a friend’s mother about setting them up. A male friend. Even with being raised to be open-minded, that conversation had stretched his limits.

“Do you know what you want to order?”

She nodded. Her thumb rubbed small circles on the back of his hand. “Yeah, their vegetarian menu looks really good.”

“Good. So you’re twenty-nine, you work in marketing and have a preference for spanking. What else do I know about you?”

Her cheeks flushed an alluring shade of pink and her gaze lowered to their clasped hands. Clearing her throat, she leaned forward over their table.

“Well, you know I have a sister. My mother passed away and my father is still alive. He owns a little hardware store now with an old friend. You know I clean when I’m nervous, and I drive my dad’s old Jeep.” She flashed him a charming smile. “What about you? I don’t know anything about you.”

“I drive an Audi. I forget to pay attention to red lights. I’m thirty-four. And I can’t lose at cards when I try.”

They both chuckled.

The waiter returned to take their orders, breaking into the moment.

“So what do you do?” she asked when they were again alone, or as alone as they could be in a dining room full of people.

He pushed his chair a quarter of the way around the circular table and threaded their fingers together.

“I create wearable art.” Her confused expression was typical. Maybe someday he could be recognized as an artist. Until then he’d have to be satisfied with the title of jeweler. “Necklaces, bracelets, earrings.”

Her eyebrows lifted and her chin tipped up. “So that’s why you don’t like my necklace. You’re a jewelry snob.” Her eyes twinkled under the dim light.

“You could call me that.” He chuckled and nodded, not above poking fun at himself. He knew he had particular tastes when it came to jewelry. “I prefer to think of myself as an artist.”

Her lips curled up at the corners. He was used to the skeptical looks. The truth was he didn’t just create pretty pendants or a nice ring. The things he crafted told stories, made statements. There was much more to it than a necklace a woman threw on to wear with her latest gown.

“Could I go somewhere and buy something you’ve made?”

“Soon. That’s what I’ve been doing this last year. Up until now, I made everything myself in my workshop. I’m in the process of building a brand and I have a small team of craftsmen who are helping me reproduce the originals to sell to a wider audience.”

“Wow, how do you even get into something like that?”

“I was flunking out of college, mostly because I was bored. I did an internship for a major jewelry chain at a corporate office and caught a glimpse of what went into creating jewelry and that was the end of my college days. I took an intensive jewelry-making course and apprenticed to a few different people before starting to work for a small, upscale designer. I cut my teeth in New York, living off ramen and tuna.”

“That’s amazing. I got a marketing degree because it was safe. People are always going to want to sell stuff. Sometimes I wish I’d gone for something else.”

“Do you enjoy your job?”

“Sure. It’s creative and complicated, but nothing like what you do.”

“It’s not that glamorous. Starting out was tough.”

“Yeah?”

He shrugged. “It took me away from my family, which was really hard. I was too busy between my day job and designing my stuff on the side to stay as connected with them as I should have. Spent some time living out of my car because I was too proud to tell Mom and Dad.”

“Why didn’t you tell them?” Her brow creased and a frown marred the delicate beauty of her face.

He wasn’t ready to explain his family dynamic to her. That was too personal, too messy for a first date. But he could tell her part of the truth. “My parents really supported me in the early years. They paid for my school, my first apartment and supplemented my income until I could pay for it on my own. I did all right for about a year, year and a half, but I got screwed over by the guy I was working for and lost pretty much everything. They’d given me so much, I didn’t want to ask them for anything else, you know?”

“Yeah, I get that.”

“What about you?”

“Me? I had a scholarship to Georgia State, went there until Mom got sick and moved back home, finished doing distance and online courses. Not nearly as exciting.”

What kind of strength did it take for a young woman to give up her life to take care of her family?

“Can I ask what happened to your mom?”

“Cancer. Mom always made sure we went to the doctor once a year, but never went herself until it was too late.”

Her gaze dropped to the tea light in the middle of the table. When he didn’t reply, she continued.

“It was mid-spring semester and Mom asked if I’d come home on the weekend. I didn’t really want to. I’d started seeing a guy I was really into and he had tickets for some group we were both crazy about then. Can’t even remember who now. She told Lucy and me that weekend. She and Dad had known since before Christmas. They even started selling off things we wouldn’t notice to pay for stuff. It was crazy. One minute she was there, the next she was gone.”

Shit. He hadn’t wanted to make her cry. He grasped her elbow with his free hand and squeezed. She glanced up at him through her lashes.

“Sorry, that’s kind of depressing.”

“No, it’s part of who you are.” Shit, and he hadn’t wanted to talk about his family because it was too personal? He was an ass.

“Anyways.” She wiped at her eyes with the linen napkin. “So why did you move to Atlanta? Isn’t New York where everyone goes for stuff like that? Or L.A.?”

He cleared his throat. “Exactly. The market in New York and L.A. is glutted with too much product. Atlanta is a strong up-and-coming area with a lot to offer.”

She nodded. “Yeah, the marketing firm I used to work for was always keeping tabs on smaller businesses, waiting for them to get big enough to use us.”

He leaned forward, surprised by the parallels between their jobs. “In a way it’s being the big fish in the small bowl, but it’s steadily growing, despite the recession.”