by Cynthia Dane
Monroe released her hand long enough to fiddle with a control panel embedded into the wall. Once he was satisfied with the heating and security, he closed the panel door. A simple floral painting covered it.
“Finally,” Alice quipped. “We’re alone.”
She expected either no reaction or a dry reply. What she got was Monroe wrapping his arms around her from behind and his hot breath in her ear. “I’ve been waiting all evening to be truly alone with you.”
Alice didn’t think about the guards patrolling the decks and docks outside. I’m gonna assume this room is soundproofed. She better hope it was! “You don’t get to be alone that often, do you?”
“Not until I’m in one of my chambers, no. Even then…” Monroe released her, straying to the wet bar. With his jacket off, Alice was able to appreciate the outline of his torso through his light blue silk shirt. His tie was already loosening. If we do it, will I finally see him naked? What a strange thought to have while he poured them both a drink. Alice had no idea what the liquor was, but she hoped it didn’t burn too much. She barely knew what Candice’s margaritas were made out of. “I usually have one or two people around. It gets very lonely otherwise.”
“People as in your bodyguards?”
“Or other members of my staff.” He handed her a stout glass of brown spirits garnished with lime.
“Would you consider those people friends?”
Monroe kept his eyes on her as he sipped his drink. Alice took her turn, the bitterness burning in all the ways she didn’t want it to. This is what I get for asking such a personal question when I have no right.
“No.”
Alice hid her embarrassment with more of this drink. Sure, it was nasty, but it was better than facing that incredulous demeanor!
“I don’t have many friends,” Monroe admitted with a matter-of-fact air that made Alice think they were talking about social media friends and not real people. “I never have. Happens when you grow up in my family.”
Did he mean being rich and powerful? Or did he mean something about his father? Alice couldn’t help but shiver again.
“Are you still cold? I can turn up the heat, if you’d like.”
“Oh, no…”
“You sure? Because I’d hate for you to be too cold to take off your clothes, Ms. Culver.”
She turned away, burying her embarrassment in the sleeve of his jacket. His presence intensified behind her. Oh, great. He had already come to call. Sure enough, his hand grazed her hair, playing with the pins holding her bun together.
“Surely you’re not shy around me anymore, are you?” Was that an air of playfulness to his voice? No way. “I didn’t mean right now. I suppose it’s different when we’re taking things more slowly.”
“I suppose so,” Alice squeaked.
“Come. Have a seat. Would you like something else to drink?”
Alice settled on one end of the Victorian loveseat at the foot of the bed. Great view of the flatscreen TV from there. What kind of stuff does this guy watch? The news? High-brow movies? Does he even watch stuff like Fresh Off the Boat and talent shows? Blockbuster movies? “Water would be fine.” She needed to wash away the flavor of whatever the hell that alcohol was.
“So,” Alice began, trying not to stare at his firm ass in those pants as he plucked a stout glass from the bar and filled it with water from a filtered tap. “I have no idea what we would even talk about, honestly.” He said he wanted honest, right?
“Do you want to talk?”
She cleared her throat and accepted the glass of water. He continued to stand before her, hand in pocket and throat swallowing another round of alcohol. “If you’re serious about dating me, that might be nice. You want to get to know me? How about I get to know you?”
In truth, she and Candice had done plenty of digging on Damon Monroe whenever they had the chance. The internet was full of sparse news. His Wikipedia page was hilariously short, merely talking about his birthplace and education. The article about his great-great-grandfather, who founded the family’s legacy in the mid-1800s after making a smart investment in western rail, was more in depth and interesting than what Damon Monroe had to offer.
He sat on the other end of the loveseat. “I wouldn’t know where to begin.”
“Me neither.”
“So how about this,” Monroe continued, leaning against the armrest. He felt so far away. “You tell me something about yourself, and I’ll tell you something about me.”
“All right.” Seemed fair. “My favorite color is green. Especially if you pair it with pale yellow.” Alice smiled. “I have this afghan my grandmother made me. It’s this really pretty yellow…” She stopped. “Er, never mind.” No one wanted to hear about her afghan. Not even she wanted to hear about a stupid blanket!
“My favorite color is dark green.”
“Not black?”
“No.” Monroe grinned. “Contrary to popular opinion. I also like navy blue. Dark colors, I guess. Things that complement black well. Ah, I guess I do like black a lot…”
A giggle escaped Alice’s lips. “What’s your sign?”
“Pardon?”
Right. He’s too smart and fancy to degrade himself with astrology. “Like are you a Sagittarius or a Leo or something?”
“I have no idea. How would I know something like that?”
“When’s your birthday?”
He wrinkled his nose. Uh oh. Too personal already? “February 10th.”
“An Aquarius?” How fortuitous for this Gemini! “That means we’re really compatible. How about that?”
Monroe sighed in relief. “Oh, good. I wouldn’t want the stars to decide we shouldn’t be together.” Was that sarcasm? That had to be sarcasm. “Now you have to tell me something about yourself.”
“Like what?”
He shrugged. “How about what you want from a relationship?”
Well, that was certainly heavy. From favorite color to Where do you see yourself in five years? bullshit. “I guess I want something stable and loving. Isn’t that what everyone wants?” She knew she shouldn’t ask, but here she went. “How about you?”
“You already heard me back in the restaurant. I want someone I can see myself spending the rest of my life with. I don’t take to transient people too well. I like stability as much as the next person. With as few friends as I have, it would be nice to have one or two people I can rely on to always be there. Isn’t that what most people want?”
“I suppose so. So you want a family?”
“Naturally. It’s expected of me, but I don’t want to start a family until I’m sure I’m with a woman I can trust with not only my personal life, but with raising my heirs. My father… well, my parents divorced when I was very young. My father raised me. It wasn’t bad, but it would’ve been nice to have my mother around as well.”
“I’m sorry to hear about your parents.” That answered the question about the missing Mrs. Russell Monroe. At least she wasn’t dead? “I’m guessing that means you’re the type really committed to making a family work.”
“That would be nice.” He crossed his legs toward her. Hello, sexy pants. “Trust me when I say I’ve had plenty of opportunities to at least get engaged. Every time I came home from school, my father had a selection lined up for me. Girls from all over the world, each one from their own prestigious family. They were always the meekest, most uninteresting people. Or so out of control that I didn’t dare get within twenty feet of them.” He drank without a second thought.
“I see.” Rich, well-bred women from all over the world? Sheesh. “Any princesses in there?”
“Actually?” She didn’t know if that grin was facetious or serious. “One. The youngest daughter of a principality came knocking a few years ago. She would have lost her title marrying a commoner like me, but her family thought it worth it… my family has twice as much money as they do.”
“So a step down, huh?”
“As I said,” Monroe leaned fo
rward, drink dangling between his legs. “I don’t ‘date’ unless it’s with serious intent.”
“You have serious intent with me, huh?”
“I take my gut instincts seriously. If it says to give you a healthy chance, then I’m inclined to listen.”
He was on the verge of popping out the M word again. Already! “Unfortunately, I doubt your family would accept me, should it ever get that far. Sounds like they’re intent on marrying you to someone more on your social or at least financial level. I barely have an income. My debt is as much as you pay for your dock space rent.”
“That would be my father who cares that much.” Monroe ignored the other things she said. “Except he’s not the one getting married, is he? He never remarried after my mother, and that was a marriage of convenience arranged by their parents. They only met a handful of times before marrying.”
“Wow.” Things really were different at this level, considering Monroe was born in, what, 1985? “No wonder they got divorced.” She bit her lip in retribution. “I mean… excuse me.”
“No excusing necessary. You’re not wrong.”
They sat in silence for more than a minute, Monroe nursing his drink whilst in deep thought and Alice staring at the blank TV before them. This guy is something else. He had brought up love at first sight and marriage so many times tonight that Alice was starting to wonder if he actually had any solid handle on reality. No man jumped right into the marriage talk unless he was unhinged…
Or really, really rich and pressured to find a wife as soon as possible. Monroe was in his thirties now. Surely that’s when the pressure started for men? Especially as the only son in his family…
Monroe put his empty glass down. “Let me cut to the chase, Ms. Culver. I’m a man who does things earnestly. I don’t know how to do things any other way. I like you. Something has drawn me to you not once, but three times. That tells me that you’re someone I should pay attention to. Perhaps a sign from the cosmos coming at the most opportune time. When something like that happens, I’m likely to listen. I didn’t mean to frighten you with talk of marriage or my sexual preferences.”
“Oh, please…” That alcohol was starting to make its way through her system. “Like I couldn’t tell you were into stuff like that from the way you do it.”
His grin was certainly more earnest now. “A man needs his outlets. When you live the life I lead, you hold a lot in.”
“So you take it out sexually.”
He leaned back, arm snaking behind her. “I take it out however I please. I’d rather channel that energy into sex than through more unhealthy ways. I’ve watched too many of my contemporaries fall to drugs and other illicit affairs. BDSM is tame by comparison. And legal.”
“Uh huh.” Alice steeled herself. “Let me guess. If I were to keep dating you…”
“It would be brought up sooner rather than later, yes.” He gestured to the door. “You are free to leave whenever you want, though. But I would implore you, unless you already know for sure that you do not wish to partake, that you at least give it a try. You were so responsive in our other encounters that I couldn’t help but think you were either a natural submissive or at least inclined to the role.”
“I’m not submissive,” Alice was quick to say. “Not like that.”
“No. You’re not, are you?” His fingers danced upon her shoulder. Alice moved her hand over his, both stilling him and encouraging him to continue. Don’t make me do it, Monroe. Don’t make me fall for you yet again. “You have the ability to become more than you already are. It’s all right if you weren’t born knowing you could thrive in the role. Many women – and some men, yes – don’t realize how powerful it is to consent to a lifestyle like that.”
“Lifestyle…” So it was like that. Monroe wasn’t just talking about some spanking and other play when they were having sex. He wanted the kind of package Alice had seen a dozen times over her one night at The Dark Hour. “You want to make me your permanent submissive toy?”
“Toy? Please. I don’t consider women toys. The perfect submissive would be my eternal partner. It’s about balance. We would check each other. You would keep me in line like I would keep you in line.”
“You’re making such a great argument here…”
“It’s all right if you don’t understand yet. We could discuss that later.”
“I’m not even sure I want to think about it now.”
“Then, please…” He was so close, so intrusive in the way he wrapped his arm tightly around her shoulders and breathed his alcohol-laden breath into her ear. “Let me show you how exquisite it can be.”
Tingles spread through her body. Between his firm touch, the feel of his breath, and the deepening tone of his voice… Alice was a goner if she didn’t get her shit together. “I told you,” she whispered. “No hinky stuff.” Before he could say something, she continued, “You may be rip-roaring to whip and chain me, Mr. Monroe, but I’m not ready for something like that.” She decided to throw him the smallest bone. “Yet.”
“I told you that you don’t have to do anything that makes you uncomfortable.” He nuzzled her cheek. He nuzzled my cheek! “I think you might be surprised what you’re into once you get going. We can take it slow. I have all the time in the world tonight.”
She repressed a girlish smile. God, I am such a virgin. She may not be new to relationships, but she was new to ones that incorporated such heated sex in them. “Are you taking requests, Mr. Monroe?”
“Please, Ms. Culver.” His lips traced the underside of her ear. “I’ve told you a hundred times to call me anything but mister.” Teeth nipped her cartilage. “But yes, what is it?”
Oh, shit, how to say it? “I’d really like to see you naked… Damon.”
“Funny. I was thinking the same thing about you… Alice.”
Monroe curled his hand around her leg, fingers treading across her thighs, smashing themselves between both sides. With his lips now softly pressing against her throat, all she could think about was him taking off the rest of his clothes and thrusting gently between her legs.
Or maybe not so gently.
“Come here,” he bade, turning her fully toward him. “Do you remember our first encounter at The Dark Hour?” It was a rhetorical question. “I told you that you could only speak in yes or no. That was a semblance of control I exerted over you. It was a part of a scene. You liked that, didn’t you?”
She was easing into his embrace way too easily. Both hands curled against his chest, feeling his crystal buttons and soft, dark hairs beneath. Yet Alice couldn’t be bothered to look upon whatever glory he held beneath his clothing. She was too caught up in those eyes and the way they undressed her. “Yeah…”
“It’s not about ‘whips and chains,’ although that can be a part of the process. It’s about giving and taking. Power, that is. Control. You give some up, but you take it in other ways.”
Alice rubbed her lips against his collar. Too bad her makeup was so good it couldn’t smear onto the softest cotton she ever encountered. “I wouldn’t mind doing that.”
“It’s something you must experience at least once in your life.” His knuckles tipped her chin up, lips meeting hers. “I’d be honored if you experienced it with me before anyone else.”
The way this man talked. The words he used. The sheer urgency, conviction behind everything he said… it was hard to not believe him. Monroe said he wanted to show her a new world of domination and submission? Hard pressed to say no, whatever the preconceived notions.
“You make a good argument,” Alice muttered. Her finger dipped between buttons and trembled to touch his curly chest hairs. “Damon…”
“Yes?” He pushed against her, making her body sink farther into the folds of the loveseat. “You say my name so well.”
His lips lightly kissed the side of her breast. Now I know what those stylists were doing… Alice was glad for it. Large keyholes in dresses were the best things ever! When his tongue touched
her skin, however, she shook beneath his weight. “I’m, um…” She was going to say it. The idea of confessing that she was a virgin the first time they had sex had kept playing in her head, particularly as he opened up to her throughout the evening. Is that something I trust him with yet? The whole point of her not telling him was so he wouldn’t treat her differently. She didn’t want slow and gentle because he thought she was fragile. If they were going to have slow yet passionate lovemaking, she wanted it to be organic. The way it was meant to be.
Her subconscious steered her in a different direction.
“I’m on birth control now.” What a lame thing to say. “I wasn’t before. Just so you know.”
Monroe languidly gazed down at her. “I see. Afraid I let passion take me over before.”
“I’m not pregnant!” she was quick to say. “Just… you know.. um…”
His demeanor was neither turned off nor wistful. “Maybe some other time.”
Wow.
Alice was grateful when he kissed her again. No need to think now. Particularly, there was no need to think about her blunders or gaffes, or the fact she had only had sex twice in her life and this still felt outrageously new to her. Not just sex, but taking it slow. Were they really in such a rush the first two times because of Monroe’s time constraints? Or was he more keen to take it easy now that he fancied her so much?
Did she even believe him when he talked about that stuff?
“I’m going to make you feel things you’ve never felt before,” he growled against her stomach. “No other man has made love to you the way I’m going to.”
He wasn’t wrong about that.
“You’re a delicate woman, aren’t you Alice?” Easy enough for him to tell when she quivered every time his fingertip touched her. “Yet you’re not fragile. There’s a difference.”