Committed (18 page)

She tipped her head back, lips parted, and he swooped in, accepting the offer of her mouth. He invaded her, nipping her lip, leaving his mark and further branding himself on her soul. The kiss left her breathless and clutching the front of his shirt. This kind of stuff happened in stories, not her life, and yet here they were.

“What do you say?” he whispered into her ear.

Poppy took a deep breath to try to calm herself. She was a switch, not a submissive, and most certainly not his. She didn’t belong to him. She tipped her chin up and met his gaze. “I think you’ve got it coming. Remember”—she leaned in close, her lips coasting over his cheek—“you agreed to switch with me.”

The muscle in his jaw twitched. He tilted his head away from her and peered down. “I did. And I will.”

She let out a breath. Part of her hadn’t known if he’d stick to their original agreement, but she’d hoped he would. She grinned at him, not sure whether she was giddier about tonight or the promise of the future. Either way, she was in. It might be stupid and reckless, but she’d pick herself up off the floor later.

Poppy buzzed his cheek with a kiss.

“Meet you downstairs.” She took a few steps away before spinning, looking for the ladies’ lounge to do as he’d ordered.

Fortunately, the bathroom was empty. Whatever surprises Damien had in store for her would not be the vanilla sort.

For the sake of privacy, she went into a stall and closed the door before opening the bag.

“Oh, shit,” she said, and blew out a breath.

A brand-new, remote-controlled vibrator, complete with the plastic packaging. The remote had been cut out, and she had no doubt where it was.

They would be in public, people all around them, while he controlled the stimulation. Her cheeks heated at the thought of standing in a crowd with the vibe on high. She could picture it in her mind—her limbs locked in place, her eyes and mouth open wide as a climax hit her swiftly—and all the while, everyone around her would be completely clueless.

Could she do it?

Damien squeezed the remote as he handed over money to the attendant in the Bombay Wraps truck. Poppy’s intake of breath sliced through the din of street traffic and pedestrian noise. He grinned and accepted the Indian-style street food without a comment.

“Can you get the drinks?” he asked Poppy.

She was panting, her cheeks flushed and lips damp. Her arms rose slowly, her whole body tense, but she managed to take the two bottled drinks without too much trouble.

He released the remote and she sighed, sending a glare his way.

“Thanks, man.” Damien nodded at the attendant and turned down the sidewalk.

“I cannot believe I let you talk me into this.” Poppy fell in step with him.

“It’s just dinner.” He paused at a crosswalk and grinned down at her.

“That is not what I mean and you know it.”

“You’re adorable when you’re trying to be angry.” Then he bent and said for her ears alone, “But you’re fucking gorgeous when you come.”

The walk sign flickered on and he strode out across the street. Poppy scampered to catch up with him. He liked knocking her off-balance. It was her own fault. She made it too easy.

“You’re doing this on purpose.”

“Yup.”

They stepped onto the sidewalk.

“Where are we going?” she asked.

“There’s a performance in the amphitheater tonight. Thought we could watch that while we eat.” He glanced at her upturned face. Her hair was loose, blowing gently in the breeze.

“Oh, that sounds like fun.” She’d wrapped a long cloth scarf around her shoulders to protect herself from the evening chill.

Damien pressed the remote and she stumbled into him. He laughed and offered her his arm, but she didn’t take it. She was a stubborn little thing, which he liked. There wasn’t a whole lot about her he wasn’t enamored with, but he still didn’t give her any relief.

“You are a jerk,” she said between clenched teeth.

“Come on, walk it out.” He urged her to continue with a hand against her lower back, since she wouldn’t accept his arm. She wiggled as she walked, squirming as her cheeks grew pinker, whether from arousal or embarrassment, he didn’t know. It was one of a long list of things he wanted to be able to know about her from a single glance.

As they reached the edges of the amphitheater, he eased off the remote. He didn’t miss the pursed lips and glare she sent his way.

They picked a spot away from other people out to enjoy the show, and settled on the grass.

“I should have brought a blanket. Sorry about this. My grand plan is ruined.” He sighed and set the bag with her book down, and handed over her wrap.

“It’s fine.” She gave him his drink and folded back the paper wrapped around her meal.

For a few moments they ate in silence, soaking in the delicate performance of a string quartet. It was pretty, but his attention turned after a few moments to thoughts of Poppy. How well had the vibrator worked? Were her panties wet? Was she even wearing any? A blanket would have been the perfect addition to the evening. The things he could have done to her out in the open, with people all around them.

Next time he would remember the blanket.

“How did you get to be DEA?” Poppy asked.

He blinked for a moment, his mind jumping tracks. Too bad she couldn’t be in his head, too. “I was actually a cop first. I got put into narcotics because they needed a young, black officer for undercover work, and I wound up working with some DEA agents on a few cases. I moved to working for both Chicago PD and the DEA for a year before I switched.”

“They stole you.”

“Kind of, but I was a lot happier working cases on a bigger scale.”

“Have you worked anywhere besides Chicago?”

“As support, but never for more than a few weeks at a time. My family is here. I couldn’t be away for too long. The women wouldn’t know what to do without me around.” He winked at her.

“Your grandmother, aunt, and mother?”

“Yeah.”

“Do they still live together?”

“A few blocks from me.” They were a trio of trouble, but he loved seeing their smiling faces.

“I live maybe fifty yards from The House, but I rarely see my mom,” Poppy offered.

“Yeah? She still wants you to live there?”

“She does. If she had any idea I didn’t just work in a library and hoard books …” Poppy rolled her eyes.

“She doesn’t like your job?”

“She doesn’t like me living on my own, she didn’t like me going to college, and if she had any idea I was on a date right now, she’d probably have a fit.”

Damien paused and studied her. There were several reasons he could think of. “Why’s that?”

“Because dating in The House is really controlled. A guy can’t just ask a girl on a date, he has to ask the head of his family, who then asks the head of her family. If the families all think it’s a good idea, they’ll tell the girl, and then she’s allowed to make the choice. But even once they agree to see each other, they’re never alone.”

“What the fuck?” He stared at her, completely taken aback by such an antiquated form of dating. He’d been ready for some comment about his skin color being an issue, but this was another level of weird.

“Yeah, try growing up that way.” She picked a few blades of grass and laid them on her knee.

“What does she think about your tattoo?” He brushed her arm. They both watched his finger glide over her skin. One of the leaves seemed to be staring at him. Hadn’t he had that feeling before, when they were playing?

“She doesn’t care. Most of the people who live there have way more tattoos and piercings than me.”

“Where are you pierced?” He could think of some interesting places, but he hadn’t noticed anything on her when they’d played.

“Just my ears. Nothing exciting.”

“Okay. When did you go on your first date?”

“In high school. I told my mom I was going out with friends, and I went out with a guy who worked at a movie store down the street.” She grinned and nibbled on her food.

“Bad girl.”

“I was, but not as much as my sister. She taught me how to sneak around the rules. I didn’t have much faith in my Prince Charming coming to me. I figured I’d have to get out there and kiss a few frogs.”

“And how many frogs have you kissed?”

“I don’t kiss and tell.” Poppy simply smiled.

Deep down, he didn’t want to know who she’d been with before. Maybe it would have been better if she’d stayed in her tower until he had found his way to her and corrupted her.

“Kiss me,” he said.

She tilted her head to the side, as if she were amused by his demand. Would she do as he wished? She leaned toward him and barely touched her lips to his. The tiniest of pecks. And yet it stirred more in his chest than he had words to describe.

This little pixie of a woman, with her mischievous smiles and layers of personality, could have him wrapped around her little finger. He’d never meet another woman like her. She drew him, enticing creature that she was.

“Why a librarian?” he asked.

“Princesses weren’t in high demand, so I opted for the next best thing.” She shrugged and folded the wrapper from her meal. “Books were my window into the outside world. I learned about people and events through them. When I was a teen, I realized that my options for getting out were very limited. The House paid for me to go to community college for a certain amount of time. After that I was on my own, so I made it happen.”

“The job was your way out?”

“School was my way into the world.”

“And kink?”

She pushed the blades of grass around on her knee, her cheeks slightly pinker. “I was used to rules and structure. My first few relationships suffered because of my emotional immaturity.”

“I’m not sure you missed out on a lot. I can’t really say my first couple of relationships were all that great.” He leaned back onto the grass, content to watch her.

“I think I did. We learn how to interact with people early on, and I had no basis for relating to a father figure or romantic interest until I was almost an adult. I found out about all kinds of relationships in the books I read and on the Internet. Then I found kink. It gave me the structure I needed to learn how to handle a boyfriend, and the expectation of being able to say what I wanted up front.”

“Were these books like the vampire-werewolf-spanking book I read?”

She ducked her head and smiled. “Some along those lines, yes.”

“Well I understand why you’d want that. The book was pretty hot. When do I get to borrow it?”

Her eyes sparkled as she chuckled. “I’ll bring it next time I see you. What about you? How did you get into the kinky life?”

He shrugged. “It’s who I am. How I relate in relationships.”

“I can see that.” She laid her cheek against her knees, studying him. “Who introduced you, though?”

“Uh.” He cleared his throat. “I was working a case once I made the force, and a suspect did all the bondage stuff to his girlfriend. We brought her in for questioning and she was very adamant it was consensual. The detective tried to get her to crack for a long time, but it was clear what they had worked for them. It got me curious, so I started looking into it. Got hooked into a small club that shut down several years ago, but I mentored there.” He’d met Yamamoto there, before he opened House Surrender.

Damien stopped his imagination from painting a picture of what the young, curious Rapunzel might have been like. He had the here and now.

Poppy was lovely. There was a delicacy to her that contrasted with the edgy nature captured by her tattoo. And damn it, he still felt like something in the damn thing was staring at him.

He pressed the remote and she yelped and straightened up, then rolled onto her back. He grabbed her scarf and pulled her toward him until they lay on their sides, face-to-face.

“Don’t come,” he whispered.

She moaned, her eyes growing unfocused. He pressed her against him and slid his thigh between her legs. Her hips moved, grinding her pelvis on him. She’d practically forgotten that they were in a park, with people around them, watching.

“Don’t come,” he whispered again.

Poppy grabbed a handful of his shirt and kissed him. She shuddered and groaned against his lips, her thighs clamping around his. He released the remote and smoothed her hair away from her face. She leaned her forehead against his shoulder, her face flushed and her brow damp.

“I told you not to come.” He chuckled.

Poppy picked her head up, gaze narrowed. “I’m not that great with rules anymore. I kind of like to break them.”

He grinned. Tonight would be fun.

Poppy got to her feet, swaying and still unsteady from her orgasm. The man was evil and crazy inventive. She couldn’t bring herself to look at anyone. Instead, she stared at the grass while her cheeks blazed hotter than a thousand suns.

She’d just climaxed in a park. No doubt someone had watched, maybe even heard her. She was equally mortified and excited, which made it difficult to be angry with the man.

Damien took her hand and they strolled away from the amphitheater, toward the Lurie Garden part of the park. He glanced at her every few strides and chuckled.

“I can’t believe you did that,” she whispered as they left the grass and hit the paved walkway.

“I didn’t tell you to do that. You did it all on your own.”

“I was not holding the remote.”

“No, but I told you not to come. You didn’t listen.” He tsk-tsked and shook his head.

Poppy was not accustomed to controlling her orgasms for anyone. The idea that she should hold off and not climax was a foreign thought.

“I’m adding orgasm control to my list of hard limits.” She shook her head. “Denying release is just cruel.”

“But waiting for it makes it even better.”

The way he spoke, with dark promise and sensual intent, made her shiver. The man could deliver, she had no doubt about that.

He tugged her arm and led her down a secluded path lined with some kind of evergreen tree. Water rushed by in stone trenches, muting the noise of the city.

She could almost imagine they were alone, in some kind of wonderland, down the rabbit hole. They strolled for a ways, never passing a soul, neither of them speaking. It felt comfortable to simply be together, which was absurd, since she barely knew the man.