Bound With Pearls (11 page)

Her brows rose. “Good. I like that you have an off switch. Can you pass the glass pan?”

Just like that they snapped into an easy state of being. He helped her cut the cheese and get the chicken into the oven and she left him to finish the pasta. She told him about her decision to change jobs due to stress from working with her sister, and he talked more about what drew him to Atlanta.

“I have some wine,” she said as she set the table. The apartment smelled like an Italian kitchen and his stomach was gnawing on his spleen.

“No wine.” He turned to his bag and pulled out a bottle of sparkling cider.

Her eyes dropped to the bottle, dipped lower and jumped to his face. He was convinced if her cheeks weren’t already pink from the heat of the stove, they would be pink now.

“Oh.”

It was a club rule—no one played and imbibed. It was a personal rule he followed outside the club.

Christine’s spine didn’t straighten and her expression remained relaxed, though she did glance at him more often than she had been. There was no tension, just an acceptance between them. Tonight was easy. In fact, he was enjoying himself more than he’d expected. If he only ate and went home, it would still be an evening worth remembering.

Chapter Eight

Pushing back from the table, Christine put a hand over her stomach. “I’m so full.” Part of her couldn’t believe she’d eaten as much as she had. Having dinner with any man she was interested in reduced her to nervous pecking, which meant she spent more time pushing her food around her plate and thinking about how she was putting food in her mouth than actually eating.

“I’m stuffed.” Daniel leaned back and stretched.

She sluggishly got to her feet and reached for his plate, but he stopped her by wrapping his hand around her wrist.

“Let me. You did most of the cooking.”

He took the plates from her and proceeded to push her out of the kitchen. Her kitchen. She watched him scrape the excess sauce off into the trash can and place the dishes in the skink. Her fingers itched to take them from him and finish cleanup herself. She was of the opinion that it wasn’t good manners to let guests clean up.

She opened her mouth to protest when he began running water into the sink and squirting out soap, but his gaze slashing toward her silenced the complaint. Instead, she slid onto one of the stools across the bar from the sink and waited.

Daniel glanced up at her, one side of his mouth screwed up. “Why don’t you find us a movie to watch or something?”

“Okay. Are you sure you don’t want me to do that?”

He sighed and passed a plate under the tap, sluicing off little white bubbles. “Chris, I’m doing something nice for you. Appreciate it, you brat.” He grinned and flicked water droplets at her to underscore his point.

“Fine, thank you.” She glared at him without any heat and wiped the moisture from her cheek, then turned her attention to the living room.

Truth be told, a movie sounded perfect. She hadn’t planned out their evening very well. Such a heavy meal made her sleepy, not energized and ready for whatever he had in mind.

She grabbed the remote from the bar and flipped on the TV. She clicked through the channels. Saturday night she normally watched back-to-back kitchen contest shows, if she watched TV at all. Choosing a popular sitcom instead, she settled on the couch where she could see both the TV and Daniel. He made her kitchen seem tiny. In comparison to his loft, her modest apartment was miniscule, but she liked it.

Daniel opened drawers and cabinets, navigating her space as though he’d been there a million times. He was utterly at home here, despite her feminine flourishes. She smiled to herself as he figured out the exact angle necessary to fit the pot in the sink. Cooking with him and sharing the ordinary things had felt like crossing into another level of intimacy. Her toes curled into the cushions.

Despite her feelings, Daniel hadn’t articulated his thoughts about them as a couple, or if he wanted something besides friendship and Domination. It was a sobering reminder that they’d gone with the flow. While she held no qualms about speaking her mind, she was biting her tongue on asking him to define what they were. He was worldly and wealthy, clearly accustomed to a lifestyle far above her own, and self-made to boot. It was intimidating.

Listening to him talk about making life decisions based on things he was passionate about, like crafting jewelry, made her job seem dull. Realistically there was nothing wrong with her job. She was good at it, there was a certain level of creativity and strategic thinking involved and it paid well. But talking about ad campaigns didn’t light her with the same fire as did Daniel. She didn’t know what she would do if she changed jobs. And why should she? She was happy, after all.

He glanced up and caught her watching him. He smiled, transforming his face to something warmer, kinder. She didn’t think it was intentional, but Daniel had a tendency to scowl a little. The smile eased those lines and brought the inner light in his gaze up a few notches to stunning. He did things to her insides. Last time he’d looked devastating in the suit, tonight he rocked jeans and a t-shirt and still managed to be sexy. He ducked below the counter for a moment and the hum of the dishwasher beat a steady background to the noise from the TV.

Christine feigned interest in the actors on the screen though she could sense Daniel approaching from the kitchen. She had only the sofa, so she knew where he was going to sit but her stomach still fluttered. Or it tried to. Even her nerves were too sluggish from such a big meal.

“Oh, this is a funny show.” Daniel sank down on the couch next to her, his arms sprawled across the back.

“I don’t watch it often. Only when Ginny’s over.”

“Come here.” He closed his hand around the back of her neck.

It wasn’t a hardship to curl up against his side, her arm wrapped around his middle and her head pillowed on his shoulder. She didn’t care about the show. She wanted to curl up and catnap. She was a card-carrying cuddler. On several occasions, previous boyfriends had complained to the point she went out of her way not to cuddle. Daniel seemed to be even more into skin-to-skin contact than she was. It was one of the things she liked most about him. Closing her eyes, she concentrated on those feelings of contentment that being in his arms conjured.

He leaned back against the armrest, pulling her with him so she lay against his chest. He was all hard muscle and firm lines.

“Thank you for doing the dishes,” she mumbled into his shirt.

His hand coasted up and down her back. “You’re welcome. Thank you for cooking dinner. I’ve never had homemade parmesan.”

“Ginny and I took cooking classes before she got married.” She curled her legs up on the cushions and snuggled in closer.

“Does she cook half as good as you do?”

“What are you talking about? Ginny’s version of cooking is sticking it in the microwave.” She peered up at him through her lashes. His head was tipped back and his eyes were closed. It seemed that she wasn’t the only one who was a fan of naps.

* * * * *

Christine started awake from a dream. She glanced around her living room, disoriented. Why was she asleep on the couch? She blinked back sleep crud and realized that she wasn’t just lying on the couch alone. There was another person.

Daniel. Inwardly she groaned and chastised herself. Naps were great for Sunday afternoons but they weren’t exactly prime date activities.

“Sorry.” Daniel’s voice was sleep-gruff next to her ear. He helped pry her off his chest. Her body ached from having been in one position for a long time. “Gotta pee.”

She rubbed her face. “Crap. I’m sorry for falling asleep.”

He chuckled and tucked a stray curl behind her ear before rising. “We both did.”

She watched him shuffle to the bathroom in his stocking feet. There was something adorable about a man in those moments just after wakefulness. She flopped back on the couch and stretched out her arms and legs when he stepped out of sight. Glancing at the clock, she was disappointed to see they’d slept into the early morning hours. She’d been excited when he’d alluded to playing after dinner. Now the sensible thing to do would be to say good night and turn in since she had the charity run in the morning. That was if she could sleep after the unplanned nap.

The sound of the toilet flushing alerted her bladder to her needs. Jumping off the couch, she was there when he opened the door.

“Excuse me,” she said, dancing from foot to foot.

He stepped out of her way with a flourish of his hand. “All yours.” His chuckle was cut off by the hard slam of the door.

After relieving herself and taking a moment to freshen up, she resigned herself to getting a goodnight kiss and going to bed. She was happy they’d spent time together. They could enjoy each other without the kink. But damn, she wanted sex of the naughty kind. Straps and a cane or rope and whatever else he came up with, that was her perfect ending to the evening.

She opened the bathroom door and paused. The apartment was swathed in darkness.

“Take your clothes off, Chris.”

The Dom voice. She shivered and her pussy creamed. She could survive the run on a quick nap, couldn’t she?

“Chris.” The warning in his voice was a lick of a whip at the base of her spine. “I can see you. You aren’t obeying me.”

“S-sorry, Sir.”

To cover her ass, she slapped the bathroom light off. She shed her clothes and tossed them through the doorway of her bedroom into the hamper. Her skin prickled and her nipples tightened. Cool air kissed the apex of her thighs where she was damp and she shivered.

Naked, she padded into the living room with her arms wrapped around her chest and paused. Though she’d first thought the apartment was dark, the TV was still on but muted and cast a faint glow. Daniel stood at one end of the couch, his shirt discarded, watching her.

“Come here.”

He bent and started doing something at the coffee table she couldn’t see. Curious, she tiptoed across to the couch as he lit a match and set it to the candle she’d had on the dining table. The coffee table was cleared off and several other candles were waiting, as well as a covered plate.

“What are you doing?” she asked before she could stop herself.

He looked up, a brief smile gracing his lips. “You’ll see. Sit on the couch.”

A distasteful sensation settled in her stomach. Sure, she was attracted to him, but he was about to cross a line. He could take control with a look, invite himself to her place and tell her exactly what to do. But he also listened to her talk about her sister, held her and made her laugh.

“What’s going through your head?” He stood, leaving four more candles lit on the coffee table.

She bought herself a few moments circling the couch. She could say nothing and they would proceed, but he would do this again if she didn’t admit what was on her mind.

She licked her lips. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but you’re kind of bulldozing me.”

He grabbed her hand and tugged her to the couch. His gaze wasn’t hard but it lacked the warmth from earlier. “You want me to leave?”

“No. But it’s hard to wrap my head around this.” She took a deep breath. “You invited yourself over, which I said was okay. Really, I’m fine with that. But that, and assuming I’ll do whatever you want whenever, isn’t okay. Does that make sense?”

His face was impassive, the candlelight and the glow from the TV casting shadows over his eyes. He cupped her cheek with his other hand.

“I get it. You’re not just a submissive to me and you have other things going on. If you need me to leave, I will. I don’t want you to resent me. I want us to enjoy each other. How does that sound?”

A weight dropped from her shoulders. She relaxed, went up on the balls of her feet and pressed a kiss to his jaw.

“Thank you. Please stay?”

He lifted a brow. “You sure you want to thank me yet? Sit on the couch and spread your legs.”

She backed away until her calves hit the couch. A thrill shot through her. What kind of surprise did he have in store? He watched her sink onto the cushions before he went back to lighting more candles. He placed them around the coffee table, side tables and entertainment center. He didn’t stop until they basked in a warm glow. The heat from the flames even raised the temperature in the room slightly, chasing away the late-night winter chill.

“Open your legs.”

Daniel knelt, inserting himself between her knees and pushing them farther apart. She fought the urge to cover herself by gripping the cushions. He’d had his face buried in her pussy already but that didn’t help calm her nerves.

He grabbed something from the covered plate. He didn’t even trip up and let her glimpse it. He spread her folds with his other hand and studied her face.

“Cold?”

“No Sir.” Her body thrummed with anticipation, hungering for his touch.

“Not even a little?”

“It’s not too chilly in here, Sir.”

“Let’s warm you up a little, hm?”

He sounded so pleasant. What exactly was he planning? Still shielding the mystery object with his hand, Daniel placed a cold object against her clit and held it there. His gaze bored into her. Her skin warmed as lust coursed through her veins and she squirmed, pressing harder against his hand. He smacked her thigh.

“Close them.”

He withdrew his hand and settled back on his heels, watching her. She didn’t doubt he saw everything, the way her nipples tightened into peaks or how her skin flushed pink from her breasts to her hairline. She shifted on the couch, drawing her legs together.

A strange thing happened. The chill of the object he’d placed against her was gone. In fact it seemed to have warmed up a little and the flesh touching it began to tingle.

“What…?” she asked. The devilish grin on his face made her heart beat harder. What was he planning?

“Have you ever played with ginger before?”

She sucked in a deep breath. Ginger. She’d heard enough about it to be both wary and interested. “No,” she said, her voice wavering as the tingle turned to a burn.

“Good. Something you haven’t done before.” He patted her thigh. “Keep your legs closed. I don’t want that sliver of ginger to have moved, understand?”

“Yes Sir.”

“That’s my girl.”

Her gaze went straight to the plate. What was he going to do to her? What was under the towel? Did she want to know?