by Riley Murphy
Ugh. She pulled a pillow over her face and screamed into it. Maybe Jo was right. Maybe she was insane.
Chapter Four
Colin tossed her duffle bag down on the gravel drive and examined the boathouse. Last night when Ethan texted to tell her they’d be staying here instead of at the mansion, she’d been relieved. Now she wasn’t so sure. The place was bigger than she’d thought and it scared the ever-living hell out of her for no other reason than she knew the devil waited for her inside. But then recalling all her dreams she had to admit the guy was definitely sin-worthy material.
Well, she’d made her pact and despite how many stellar points her best friend had cited to talk her out of it, she’d come as promised. A smile hovered on her lips as she recalled how Jo had accused her of being delusional and likened her agreeing to this ten-day-long sleepover with Master Dreamy to a weak-willed dieter camping out in a bakery.
Personally, Colin thought her friend should have more faith in her. What was another ten days of abstinence compared to the three years, four months and sixteen days she’d already managed? With all that success behind her, the less-than-a-two-week stint in front of her should be a piece of cake. But then she recalled the lump of pudding he’d reduced her to the day they were locked in together and wanted to hang Jo for her bakery analogy. It was only making her hungry, and not for food.
She sighed and leaned back against her car. Taking a gander at his sexy-looking ride parked on the only paved part of the gravel drive, she snorted. He probably had the area specifically laid with concrete because he didn’t want his precious sports number damaged by the rocks. He seemed like the type of guy who took care of his things. Why that should intrigue her was a mystery.
He probably takes good care of his women.
Mystery solved. Tamping down the blooming thrill that notion created, she plucked up her duffle and mentally repeated the mantra of “Ethan White is just a guy” over and over as she headed for the door. The hope was that she’d believe it by the time she got there, but no luck.
“Good morning, Colin.”
Drinking in the sight of him, she wanted to accuse him of purposely trying to entice her, because enticed she was, but there was nothing to hold up as evidence. The beige, loose-fitting shirt opened at the collar, highlighting the bronze tone of his skin was probably off-the-rack Armani. However, with the sleeves rolled up to band his massive forearms and the rest of the garment tucked into insanely molded-against-him jeans, the outfit looked custom made. She doubted there was another guy on the planet who could look this good in the same ensemble.
She swallowed. “Hi.”
“Come in.”
The silent echo of “said the spider to the fly” screamed in her mind and she hesitated. He must have noticed because he took her bag with one hand and pulled her through the doorway with the other, saying, “I’m glad you’re here.”
That made one of them.
“Before I get you settled I think we should have a talk.”
“Talk?”
She followed along behind him until the hallway opened up to the living area. It was a huge room that boasted a large kitchen overlooking the family room. The main attraction there? Wall-to-wall windows that gave up panoramic views of the lake. Beautiful.
“Wow, what a view.” Turning to her right, she whistled. “Great kitchen too.”
“Thanks. I just had it remodeled.”
She scanned the expansive countertops. All that tiger-eye granite gleaming under the halogen pendant lighting set off the shine of each of the pristine stainless steel appliances. This was her kind of kitchen. The kind of kitchen she’d never be able to afford even if she did manage to outbid the other buyers for her dream. “It must have cost a fortune.”
Making her way to the pantry cabinets that lined the back wall, she ran a hand over the cherry-wood doors. Any cook worth their salt would kill to have this space to create in. It was perfect, right down to the center island that looked like a stylish piece of furniture with both water and electric fed to it. What a luxury. And the cooktop? It had eight gas burners for heaven’s sake and a faucet right over the back ones to fill pots with water for vegetables or pasta or whatever. She nearly melted, and she probably would have, but his response pulled her out of her Julia Child fantasy.
“Fortune? I hadn’t really thought about cost. You know what they say, if you have to ask, you can’t afford it.”
She dropped her hand away from the burner as if someone had turned it on. Hadn’t thought about cost? He couldn’t be serious. To her mind, a person always looked for a discount no matter how rich they were. Covertly, she studied him, thinking maybe there was a designer in the wings. Yes, he probably had a design—
“I probably should’ve hired a designer, but I thought what the hell, I have the time so…” He left off with a shrug. A lock of his hair fell across an eye and he didn’t bother to sweep it back. It made him look approachable, softer somehow.
“You chose all this yourself?” She walked to the under-the-counter mounted sink and murmured, “It’s not only beautiful, but totally functional.”
“You’ve discovered one of my pet peeves in life.” He grinned.
“I did?” She’d been so distracted watching his thick biceps flex and bunch it took her a moment to comprehend what he’d said. Spying the humor dancing in his eyes it occurred to her. “Oh.” Her eyes widened. “Oh! I take it you like functioning beauties.”
Now he swept that hair back and there was nothing shielding her from his intense gaze. “Sometimes.”
What was that supposed to mean? She opened her mouth to ask, but he abruptly turned away and headed down the hall off to the left. “Your room is this way. I’ve decided you can unpack first and then we’ll talk.”
Well, that was nice of him, but maybe she didn’t feel like unpacking right now. She watched his exit. Enjoying another stunning view. This one came in the shape of his butt, which filled out his jeans something fierce.
“Are you coming?” He turned so fast she was treated to an eyeful of crotch. Oh dear.
Tearing her gaze away, she decided to do as he suggested and called, “Yes, yes, I’m coming.” She’d die if he noticed. “My room’s this way?” she asked, looking up at him.
Damn, he’d noticed all right, his smile was ear to ear.
“Yeah, you’re on this side of the main room and I’m on the other.” Heading down the hall, he stopped in front of a set of double doors and she blew out a huge sigh of relief.
“That’s terrific.” When he had a hand on the knob, but didn’t push it open, she was curious. “What’s the matter?”
“Colin, did you honestly think I was going to try to force you to share a room? Or more precisely, my bed?”
Her first instinct was to fib, but she knew he’d know if she did. So she chose a safer route. She nodded and shrugged at the same time, figuring he could take from that what he wanted. Unfortunately he took something all right.
“I’m not a lecher.” She had to strain to catch that exasperated mumble before he added, louder this time, “I’m not going to force you to do anything you don’t want to do. Do you understand?”
His look was dead sexy, just as Jo had pointed out, and intense. She gulped and tried to form an answer, but all she could muster was a series of quick nods.
“Good.”
But to her mind there was nothing good about this situation. Deep inside she knew, had she been given a choice in the matter she’d rather have him trying to force her than not because that’s what she’d prepared for. This whole free will thing was unsettling.
He flung open the doors and stalked inside. God, what a back he had. It was an inverted triangle. A huge inverted triangle, she amended, that topped slim and totally come-touch-me hips. The zing of desire that snaked through her was like an electric current, lighting up all her sensitive places until it settled with a smoldering zap between her thighs. When he deposited her bag beside the king-sized bed sh
e wanted to turn tail and run. What was she going to do now? She’d rather have to fight him than try and fail fighting herself.
Suddenly he towered over her. “Unpack your things and meet me in the great room. I don’t want you needlessly worried about our time together.” He pulled her chin up and their eyes locked as his thumb brushed a gentle path along her jawline. “Be quick.” His gaze roamed over her, pausing on her primly buttoned blouse. “I like this color blue. It suits you.”
In an instant he was gone and she was left standing there nearly hyperventilating. So pleased by his unexpected compliment that she was fairly beaming. She couldn’t contain the surge of giddiness that swept through her. It was so strong she almost giggled and that’s when she realized agreeing to this was a mistake. A Big. Big. Mistake. Because she’d given up giggling in fifth grade after Bobby Fenwick dumped her for Lucy Becker because she gave dry kisses and Colin gave wet ones. Even at that young age she’d learned giggling was the first segue to heartbreak.
* * * * *
There was no question in Ethan’s mind. Full disclosure was the only way to go with her. He wanted her completely aware and once she was he’d help her make the necessary decisions to deal with her predicament. He hadn’t meant to use the lure of her blog followers to get her to agree, but when she balked he’d found himself dragging them up front and center. Misleading wasn’t his style so he wanted things clear before they got in this too deep. Better she backed out now than three days from now.
“All done.” She came into the room like a prisoner waiting to be strapped in for lethal injection.
“Good. Have a seat.” Taking note of her furrowed brow, he held back a grin. “Nervous?”
“Yeah.” The stiffness went out of her and her face contorted in a comical and wholly unattractive manner. An expression that any other woman, given the chance to spend time with him, wouldn’t be caught dead making just before words rushed out of her. “That obvious, huh?”
He chuckled. “Yes.”
“Sorry about that.”
“Stop biting your nails.” He loved her beautiful fingernails. Not too long, but natural and elegant. He hated that his presence made her so on edge that she felt the need to chew on them. When she stopped and shoved her hands underneath her thighs, he sighed. “I’m going to be honest with you, Colin.”
Her eyes shone the color of the Mediterranean Sea on a cloudless day. “Okay.”
“We have a situation here and I want you to know that I would never take advantage of it.”
“So you’re not going to ravish me?” she joked.
“I didn’t say that.”
She wasn’t smiling now. Clearly his answer had made her uncomfortable. Hunching her shoulders forward, she let out a pent-up breath. “We’re not very good at this are we? Last week in Mazer’s office you said if I wanted to know the real reason you’d orchestrated this intimate get together you’d tell me. I should have stayed to hear you out. I’m listening now.”
Brave girl. He sat on the arm of the couch and dove right in. “I know you’re committed to exploring the concepts I’m going to show you about a BDSM environment for your readers’ benefit, but I want you to be fully aware that there’s something that may affect the experience for you personally. It’s that ‘something’ that has me intrigued and caused me to make this arrangement with you.”
“Okay.”
“Sweetheart, you’re a submissive.”
She blinked.
He waited.
She blinked some more. “Submissive what?”
It was his turn to blink. “A submissive. Period.”
Pursing her lips, she appeared to contemplate the matter and replied, “Nope.”
He didn’t hesitate to counter, “Yes.”
Taking a moment, she adjusted her blouse before crossing her arms and leaning forward to rest them on her knees. “Ya think?”
At the moment he was thinking he could get used to that nose scrunch of hers, but then she unwound her arms and sat up straight. “Lord love a duck! You think I’m one of you?”
Ethan had been prepared to be patient with her. He would be patient. But there was patient and then there was patient. “One of us?”
She waved a hand. “Oh, you know what I mean.”
He sure did. “Again, one of us?”
“Casper said you’d try to mesmerize me into turning kinky.”
Ethan didn’t doubt that for a moment. Casper was probably from the old school. Where one held the belief that sexual preferences, even of the kinky variety, were a conscious choice. He assumed it wasn’t much of a stretch for him to automatically believe that one adhering to the BDSM lifestyle could recruit the vanilla population into kink against their will. But this wasn’t about Casper and his archaic thinking. This was about Colin’s truth.
He leveled a direct stare on her. “What do you think?”
“I think Casper’s heart was in the right place.”
“I’m not interested in Casper at the moment. I’m interested in you. What you’re thinking. What you’re feeling. You.”
“Me—really? This is why you insisted on us spending time together? Why it had to be you and not one of your partners staying with me. Really?”
She was looking all over the place. Right. Left. Up at the ceiling. “Colin.”
“What?”
He loved the way she sounded upset and pissed off at the same time. He supposed that came with frustration. “How do you feel when you’re around me?”
Scowling, she looked right at him. “Angry.”
“I think it’s time for you to be honest.”
“I am angry…sometimes.”
Now they were getting somewhere. “Angry and what else?”
“This is crazy.” She groaned and looked away. “I don’t know.”
“Colin, honey, stop chewing on your nail and tell me. This is important.”
She shot up and started pacing. Interesting enough though, just like every other time he ordered her, she’d stopped biting that nail.
“Look, a small part of me may have agreed to the ten days because I’m curious. However, my life is just fine the way it is, so if you want some distance from that, that’s cool. With the extra money I’m making doing the buffed-up PR on the resort for you guys, I may be able to realize a dream. And yes, my readers may have sucked this up like hummingbirds to sugar water, but if you think it’s not a good idea for me to explore aspects of the lifestyle with you too deeply, because it’ll mess me up somehow tell me now. Just don’t use the excuse to bow out of it by saying there’s more between us than there really is. I couldn’t take that.”
“Colin.”
She stopped and whirled to face him. “Okay, I’ll admit it. I’m attracted to you, but I can’t let that get in the way of my goals. I might have toyed with the idea that I may, may have a teensy-tiny-miniscule—as in, smaller than a speck of dust—desire to submit to a strong, hunky guy who may or may not look like you. But, and this is a biggie, I’m ignoring it. I can do the ten days without letting my feelings get the best of me as long as you don’t make me believe there’s something else going on here. I plan to remain completely objective in the process.”
He got up and headed straight for her. “I don’t think you can.”
She squared her shoulders and stood her ground. “I will.”
The second he put his hands on her she was toast. Her cheek pressed into his palm and she let him crowd her. She might have even groaned. He couldn’t be sure. “You can’t ignore this draw. You feel it, don’t you?”
“No, I…”
“Yes.” He tapped her nose to get her to focus. “You’re craving the experience. You’ve got the desire to be with me. To submit. You want to be dominated, and not by someone who looks like me, but by me. Period.”
“Do you always end your sentences by speaking the punctuation out loud?”
“Colin.”
“No.”
“Don’t lie to me, Col
in.” He held her gaze.
“I…”
He waited nearly a full thirty seconds. When she didn’t look away, remaining silent, he dropped his forehead down to hers and whispered, “Thank you for not lying to me. Now, let’s be a brave girl and tell me some truths.”
“Courage is overrated. Can’t we just—”
“Shush. I want you to pay attention. Listen.”
“All right.”
“Good.” When she eased he asked, “Do you feel restless and out of sorts when you’re around me?”
She closed her eyes. “Yes.”
“Have you been dreaming about me?”
“You told me to.”
“Colin.”
“Yes.”
“Have you fantasized about me?”
“Uh-huh.”
He rubbed his forehead against hers. “This is very good, Colin. Very good.”
Her knees buckled and he caught her up. “Hey, don’t check out on me now. I want to know what you need to make you happy.”
Her eyes snapped opened and she frowned. “T-that’s a broad question.”
Leading her back to the couch he sat down with her and said, “No. It’s the right question and I want you to answer it.”
“Loyalty.”
“Good. What else?”
“I can’t believe this,” she whispered, but more to herself, before she half grumbled, half groaned, “I feel like I’m going to cry and I don’t know why.”
“That’s all right.”
“No it’s not.” She sniffled and wiped the back of her hand under her nose. “I don’t cry, okay?”
Ethan brushed her tears aside with the pad of his thumb. “Maybe you should. Maybe if your tears belonged to someone else they wouldn’t be so painful to shed.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
Tears skipped in an uneven pattern down her cheeks as he pulled her into his arms. Tucking her head under his chin he squeezed her up tight. “I’m not afraid of your tears. Let me own them, even if it’s just for a little while.”