MakeMeShiver (10 page)

The thought of losing her before he ever had her…

“Don’t walk away from something you might regret letting go of later. You might not want to admit it but we have a lot more in common than you think. I’m not just talking about kink. There is more than sex between us and you know it.”

“I need some time to think.” She shook her head, sighing. “First Scott and now you.”

That brought him up short. “What about Scott and me?”

Her short laugh was a bitter. “I caught Scott in the copy room with his secretary. That was why I got stuck in the storm. He didn’t expect me to show up at his office so he thought he would get away with it.”

Calmness suddenly became anger. The pansy-ass attorney bastard had cheated on Lacey. The piece of shit had fucked around on her.

“I’m going to beat the hell out of him.”

She blinked several times, as if she’d expected him to respond differently. “That’s not necessary. He and Karen can have each other.”

“You’re damn right they can.” He moved forward until his chest was pressed against her knees. “I’m nothing like Scott. He’s a prick who has no idea what he let go.”

They pulled apart at an unexpected pounding on the door, accompanied by a deep and commanding baritone. “This is the Pleasant View City Police.”

Lacey eyes went wide in panic. “Oh no.
Oh shit
.”

“Just great. Wonderful. Why don’t we invite everyone over on my one day off?” Candice rushed into the living room, adjusting her robe, and she wasn’t happy. “Thanks a lot, asshole,” she snapped at Michael, gesturing toward the entrance to her apartment. “You wanted the cops? Call me the genie of your magic lamp. Why don’t you greet our guest and make your wish?”

“Don’t worry.” He reassured Lacey with a wink, giving her leg a soft squeeze as he stood. “I’ve got it.”

To Michael’s relief, the voice coming from the other side of the door was one he recognized. So he wasn’t shocked to see Brady Stone waiting on the other side. He was a big bastard, standing well over six feet, and though he preferred his women to give the orders, he was damn dangerous when provoked. As one of the submissives at Fantasia, Brady kept his social circles small, concerned word of his lifestyle could adversely affect his job.

Brady frowned when he saw him. “Mike? What the hell are you doing here?” He peered over Michael’s shoulder and met Candice’s outraged glare. When their gazes locked her expression changed, going from furious to ashen. She looked away, pulled her robe tighter around her and wrapped her arms around her waist.

“We received a call of a domestic disturbance.” Brady continued staring at Candice, practically devouring her with his eyes.

“A disagreement, not a disturbance.” Michael glanced at Lacey as she rose from the chair, coming into Brady’s line of sight, and walked to the door. “Everything’s fine now.”

“Is that right?” Brady turned his attention to Lacey.

“Yes, it is.” Lacey bravely walked over, although Michael noted the tentative falter in her step. “I’m sorry for the inconvenience, Officer,” she glanced at his badge, “Stone.”

Brady’s lip quirked as he suppressed a smile. “Trouble in paradise, Mike?”

“Just a misunderstanding.” Bending at the waist, Michael spoke quietly into Lacey’s ear, “I understand that you need time to think but this isn’t over. I’m not going to let you walk away. Not a second time.”

God help him, she turned bright red, gnawed on her lip and nodded. Did she have any idea what that did to him? How much it turned him on? Made him want to draw her close, tear down her defenses and keep her by his side?

“Since that’s settled,” Candice remarked briskly, back to her usual demeanor, although she seemed damn determined not to look in Brady’s direction, “do you mind getting the hell out of my apartment?”

Michael peered down at Lacey. “Can I drive you home?”

The indecision on her face was like a punch to the gut, which made the relief he experienced when she murmured, “Let me get my boots and bag,” all the more profound. Candice followed behind Lacey as she went for her things, whispering something Michael couldn’t decipher.

When they were out of earshot, Brady said, “It’s about time you got back on the horse.”

“That it is.”

“Who is she? I’ve never seen her at the club.”

“That’s because she’s never been to it.”

“Really? A newbie?” Brady didn’t attempt to mask his surprise.

Michael nodded curtly as Lacey returned, knowing exactly what Brady was thinking.

Newbies on the scene went one of two ways. They either embraced their inner kink or they shunned it. Whether in public or private, those who embraced their desires enjoyed the freedom it provided, while those who shunned it kept their less-than-vanilla sexual preferences under wraps, or lived a lie, or genuinely had zero interest in exploring the lifestyle. When it came to relationships in which one person was in the community and the other was not, there was very rarely any middle ground.

As Michael wrapped his arm around Lacey’s waist, said goodbye to Brady and guided her toward the stairs, he decided that no matter what it took he would find a way to make things work.

Chapter Eight

It started with flowers.

Despite the fact that Michael drove her home, he didn’t press the issue when Lacey informed him that she needed time to think things over. Instead he dropped her off without asking to come inside, told her he’d have her car brought to her the next day and said that she’d hear from him soon. She’d spent the day thinking things over but wasn’t able to come to any definitive conclusions.

The very next morning as she sat down to return emails and reschedule the work she’d missed, she heard a knock on her door. Considering she was nowhere near town, she was impressed when she learned that not only had her vehicle been returned but a florist was waiting on her porch to present her with a large bouquet of roses.

The crystalline vase housing the flowers was squared, the etchings along the rim done by hand. There were a dozen roses total—six white and six red. After she closed the door and placed the arrangement on her coffee table, she examined the envelope. It was plain and white, without any adornments. Once she’d pulled open the flap and removed the card she discovered one word:
Limousine
.

Her breath caught and she ran her fingers along the cursive handwriting, recognizing the clear penmanship. Michael had written the note himself. She had no idea what it meant.

That was on Tuesday.

On Wednesday she received another floral arrangement, this time with a dozen yellow and pink blooms, and another plain card with Michael’s handwriting that stated
Seven o’clock
.

She was tempted to call Michael and learn where he was going with his flowers and cryptic messages. Unfortunately her agent got wind of her request for a change in legal representation. That meant she spent a majority of her day on the phone, arguing over logistics and explaining exactly why it was she refused to remain the client of a cheating pig bastard.

On Thursday the florist arrived again, this time with a massive teddy bear. As she took the stuffed animal and accepted the envelope that came along with it, she felt her resolve crumbling. Aside from his cards, there had been no contact between them. She’d asked for space and he’d given her what she asked for. Opening the envelope, she found there was a single word scribbled across the surface of the card inside:
Tomorrow
.

Although she didn’t know what he had in store, it wasn’t difficult to put
Limousine, Seven o’clock
and
Tomorrow
together. Whatever was coming, she decided she wanted to be prepared.

Getting her hair done and legs waxed was easy, it was shopping that took more time than she would have liked. Was this a date of some kind? Or did Michael have something wickedly naughty up his sleeve? After choosing a simple black dress with gossamer sleeves and satin cuffs at the wrists, she went to the shoe store, purchased two pairs of shoes—red and black patent leather heels—and stopped by an exclusive and extremely expensive lingerie shop for a corset, panty, garter and stocking set. While she was there, she also chose a few of the same items in different colors. Considering she hadn’t worn that kind of thing since college, her underwear drawer needed an update. Besides, a girl could never be
too
prepared.

She felt different as she stood before the dressing room mirror clothed in nothing but skimpy garments and fuck-me-silly heels. Never before had she dared to dress so provocatively. How would Michael react when he saw her like this? Or would he seize the opportunity at all?

On Friday morning she was awake and ready as a car pulled into her driveway. Only this time it wasn’t a florist who greeted her—the man who knocked on her door worked for Rosie’s Jewelry.

The sleek automobile stopped in front of her home and a man dressed in a suit stepped out. Whatever he was carrying was compact enough to fit inside a small bag he carried with his gloved fingers and was expensive enough that it required a signature. After she signed for the package and thanked him, the man gave her a smile, told her to have a nice day and off he went.

When she sat down on her sofa, removed the rectangular box from the bag and found a thin white gold-and-diamond-encrusted choker with the note
Wear This
, she knew it was time to make a phone call. If she was going to see where a relationship with Michael would take her, she needed to be armed with information that no mere Google search could provide. There was only one source who could give her the answers she needed most.

Candice seemed nervous—
too nervous
—when Lacey invited her to an early lunch. Fortunately, she accepted when Lacey told her it was important. Now, seated at one of the rear booths of the trendy Rolo’s Café, Lacey watched and waited for her friend to arrive. Deep down she knew that Candice was holding out on her. If she was being honest, she’d known her friend was holding something back the night Candy had warned her to steer clear of Michael unless she was into kinky sex. The only reason she hadn’t questioned Candy about how she knew so much was because it wasn’t her business. Not to mention if it involved Candice’s job, she’d be given the proper and well-deserved kiss-off. In light of recent events, however, Lacey decided to take all the information she could get—even if it meant crossing a line.

When Candice arrived she was weighed down by her usual gadgets—cell phone, laptop and camera. She was one of the best investigative reporters in the city for a damn good reason. Spotting Lacey, she hurried over and began pulling multiple straps from her torso. As she slid into the booth she placed her belongings on the floor near her feet.

“All right, spill.” Candy sighed as she relaxed in her seat. “I had to ditch a kick-ass lead to meet you. This had better be good.”

Taking a deep breath, Lacey recalled the speech she’d made in the mirror earlier in the morning. There was no time like the present to get the answers she wanted.

“I need you to tell me how you knew about Michael.”

Candy looked up, obviously alarmed as the smile slipped from her face. She quickly recovered, hiding her shock with a faint laugh. “Knew what about Michael?”

“Don’t do that. Not to me.” Lacey smoothed her fingers over the expensive tablecloth, tearing her gaze away from her friend’s face. “I’m not asking you to divulge personal details about your sex life or give me the inside scoop on a story. I’m asking you to tell me—
a friend
—how you found out about Michael and his lifestyle.”

“What’s with the sudden interest? What made you decide a relationship with Michael is worth exploring?” Candy continued acting as if she didn’t understand—a helpful device perfected as an investigator.

“He’s weakened my resolve this week with gifts.” Lacey retrieved the box resting in her lap along with the simple card and extended them to Candice. “Michael sent this to me today. I think I know what it means but I could be wrong. I can’t be wrong about this, Candy. I have to be certain.”

Lacey could hear Candice swallow as she read the card, opened the box and glanced inside. “What makes you think I’d know anything?”

“Because you’re the best at what you do, and if you were investigating or interested in the BDSM community—” Lacey stopped, worried she might go too far if she implied anything further, and searched for the right way to phrase what she needed to say. “You would have done your research. You always do.”

A waitress started to walk past and Candice sat the box and card on the table and flagged her down. “Bring me a cosmo.”

Lacey had never seen Candice drink during the day. Not even during college.

“Candy?”

“Not yet.” She lifted a hand, shaking her head. “Not yet, Lace.”

They sat in silence until her drink arrived. Candy didn’t waste any time, throwing back the alcohol like a seasoned wino. When the glass was empty, she hunched over, pulled her purse from the floor and rummaged around in it until she produced a pack of cigarettes and a lighter.

“When did you start smoking again?” Lacey gawked in disbelief when Candice put the filter between her lips, lit up and puffed through the side of her mouth like a pro. Lacey glanced around in panic and whispered in a rush, “Are you crazy? You can’t smoke in here! Put that out!”