Taking a deep breath, I considered his words. Having a sudden urge to play with the cutlery, both hands were carefully placed in my lap. What did I want to know? Everything. Nothing. Where on earth did I start?
“Do you get pleasure from hurting people?” That little gem had been at the back of my mind for some time. I didn’t feel guilty for asking it. It was his turn to squirm.
He rubbed the pad of his thumb across his lip as he considered his response, but it was clear he was entertained by my question. “This is why I was concerned enough to bring you here tonight.” His index finger pointed to the table in front of him. “You don’t understand the concept of BDSM at all, do you?” Shaking his head, he sighed. “It’s not about the pain. You watch too much TV. Most people who practise BDSM hardly touch upon the pain side of things. Sometimes, as the relationship progresses, a little pain can be introduced, but that’s a personal preference. BDSM is all about pleasure. That’s what I do. In a session, I’ll give a submissive anywhere from three to fifteen orgasms. My job is finding out what makes her tick, what turns her on, and then using that information to the best of my ability.”
I couldn’t help but frown. “So what’s all this spanking, caning, and cropping business then? Pleasure?” My look was disbelieving. I’d read a few books and seen a couple of movies. I almost knew what I was talking about.
“Yes,” he hissed at me. “Pleasure.” I noted that his pale blue eyes looked even sexier when they were fired up. “The sting of the crop will ignite a thousand nerve endings that you never knew you had, and the residual burn will set flame to a thousand more. A little pain will flood endorphins and adrenaline all through your body, heightening your awareness to such a degree that a whisper of air upon your flesh will feel like a hurricane. It can also delay an impending orgasm, intensifying your climax tenfold when you finally manage to fight past the delicious burn that is consuming you. It’s all about pleasure.”
James had started to wave his arms about and was looking very animated. He was obviously very passionate about his work. I looked unconvinced, but I wasn’t going to contradict him. This was his thing after all, but I couldn’t resist adding, “And control.”
He rolled his eyes at me, but he inclined his head in agreement. “Yes. That’s exactly it - pleasure and control. A lot of people find a great deal of relief in giving up the latter.” I knew those eyes were assessing whether I would be one of them. He’d already formed his own opinion of me, and I debated for several seconds before asking the next question, but in the end it seemed to escape of its own accord.
“Do you think I will?”
He turned his head away from me and looked into space for a moment. I could almost hear the cogs of his brain turning. The resulting silence burned me. This was important. I was almost willing him to say “yes,” but I’d rather have an honest opinion. Without doubt, that’s exactly what I was going to get, and my body unconsciously clenched in response. There was a lot riding on this.
“You’re a difficult case,” he said eventually, and these were not the words I wanted to hear. “Normally, I can give a ‘yes’ or a ‘no’ with little more than a quick chat and glance, but where you are concerned, I have an inkling I’m not working with the full picture.”
Annoyingly, the food chose that moment to arrive and I had to wait several agonising seconds before our conversation could continue. Watching fractiously as our waiter fussed with the positioning of our plates and condiments, I had to take a moment to tell myself to calm down. This was all Mr. Attractive’s fault, and his presence was starting to have an adverse effect on my emotional wellbeing. Still, he would only be in my life for one more day. Hopefully.
Five
“Right, where were we? Ah, yes, do I think you’d be happy giving up control?” He sliced one of his juicy scallops in half and speared it with his fork. Melted butter dribbled onto his plate as he raised the morsel to his mouth. I found myself watching in fascination as he chewed. When I realised what I was doing, I subsequently wanted to slap myself, but how can you war with your own hormones? I was a mess.
“I’m going to rely on my intuition for this one, I think,” he continued, unaware of the inner struggle I was having. “I don’t think you’ll be happy giving up control. I suspect you might even be a control freak and have your life ordered out to the smallest detail, but that’s not what you asked, is it?” He finished his mouthful, and his words had just about registered in the haze of pheromones that surrounded me, jolting me to my core because he had pegged me with frightening precision. “But yes, I think you’ll find the relief you seek. In body more than mind, perhaps.”
And what the hell did that mean? Too stunned to speak, I swirled my spoon around in the bowl of miso soup before me. Clouds of fish stock began swimming around, and little slivers of seaweed stuck to my spoon. Bringing up a mouthful to my lips, I tasted it tentatively. I was somewhat surprised to find that it was actually quite refreshing, and it wasn’t long before all thoughts of talking left me. We didn’t say another word to each other until we’d cleaned our plates dry.
Upon finishing his starter, James took a long sip of the Sancerre and sighed in contentment. I concurred with his opinion of the wine. It was the perfect accompaniment to seafood, bone dry and deliciously aromatic. I would have to be very careful not to guzzle too many glasses. Having my tongue loose and wagging around this man would be exceptionally foolish.
“Any more questions, Lois? Or are we going to talk about knitting and babies for the rest of the evening?” He eyed me with a smirk.
Choking on my wine, I was annoyed to see he thought himself thoroughly amusing. It appeared he’d caught me checking him out. Sighing, I decided I’d need to be more discreet in future. His ego would spontaneously combust in a few seconds if I wasn’t. “I usually like to get to know someone a couple of weeks before I think about having babies, but I’m game if you are.” I winked at him. It should have wiped the smirk off his face instantly, but instead, it just got wider. Taking a deep breath, I ploughed on, “As to the knitting needles, you’ll have a better chance at improving your life expectancy if I don’t have any.” I lavished an icy stare upon him, which had absolutely no effect whatsoever.
“I can picture you with a set of knitting needles, you know. Not actually knitting, but fending off all the annoying males that might make the mistake of entering your world. You are a prickly one, Ms. Reeves. I bet you haven’t managed too many long term relationships in your past.”
“I don’t need knitting needles to defend myself,” I replied. “I can do enough damage with my hands and feet.” I picked up my black, Chinese lacquered bowl of soup and drank the remains. I didn’t particularly care if the ogre across from me was offended.
“That I don’t doubt,” he replied. “And the long term relationships? Managed any?” He slowly wiped an imaginary spot of food from his lips. My eyes found themselves entranced, and all of a sudden I could picture myself kissing him. What the hell? This was so unlike me, I nearly dissolved into a fit of hysterics. It looked like I was about to have my first crush, and the guy across from me was an absolute animal.
“You’ve had your question time,” I replied with saccharine sweetness. Wondering if two could play his game, I ran my tongue across my bottom lip to see if he was similarly affected. Sure enough, his eyes dropped, and it was several seconds before he realised I had asked another question.
“Sorry, you’ll need to repeat that,” he said. “My attention is being shamelessly diverted.” He sucked his finger into his mouth as if to clean it, although I knew for a fact it was not dirty. He’d wiped it on his napkin only a few moments ago. Somehow I managed to glance away, though it took considerable willpower on my part.
Clearing my throat, I attempted to rid my mind of distractions. As long as I didn’t look at him, there wouldn’t be a problem forming logical sentences.
“Let’s say the session does go ahead tomorrow. What can I expect from the moment I en
ter the scene?” It was a good question, superbly executed bar the lack of eye contact, and I was pleased with myself.
“Are you talking to me? Because if you are, you’ll have to look at me if you want an answer.” His hand reached across the table and he curled his fingers under my chin, drawing me closer to him. I desperately wanted to recoil and take refuge in a dark, quiet place somewhere, but I was damned if I’d let him see fear. “Look at me.” His voice pounded in my ears, and my arteries were filled with blood that was rushing around at ninety miles an hour. “You can’t be afraid of me. So what is it? Are you frightened of the attraction between us?”
Dragging my eyes back up to his was harder than walking through quicksand. All my poise and elegance had left for the moment, and I cursed myself for ever having agreed to this stupid meeting in the first place. The trouble was that every time I looked at him, I saw Kiel in those ghostly blue eyes. I needed to get over it. “I’m looking at you. Where’s my answer?” I didn’t want to give James any more than I had to. A little knowledge was a dangerous thing, especially in my line of work. He released my face, and I silently sucked in a bucket load of air. Breathing was such an important commodity.
“Fine, if that’s the way you want to play it, we’ll go for the abbreviated version.” I nodded. Short and sweet worked for me. “Well, as soon as the door closes I’ll ask you to get naked.” I immediately lost the air I’d just struggled to inhale, but honestly, what had I expected? This wasn’t a sparring match. This was sex. Not in the conventional sense, perhaps, but it was close enough. “Then I’ll tie you up with either ropes or cuffs, depending on which is your preference. Do you have a preference?” The thought of being completely immobile whilst naked in front of him was dancing around excitedly in my head. It turned me on. Who was I kidding? It felt like someone had punched me in the gut and rewired my brain all at the same time. Squirming uncomfortably, I let my hands fall to either edge of my chair and gripped it tightly. This was yet another scary thing I was going to have to deal with - intense arousal. My vibrator was going to get an impressive workout at the end of my date. There was no way I’d be able to sleep as worked up as I was. There was an uncomfortable silence as James kept looking at me, and I realised he was expecting an answer to his question.
“Oh, right. Um, no, I don’t think I have a preference.” If my voice was slightly breathless and rough, he didn’t seem to notice.
“Some girls don’t like marks. Cuffs tend to leave marks if I do my job right, but even rope will chafe if you pull and twist within your bindings.”
“I can hold myself still. That won’t be a problem.” I was more than capable of remaining perfectly still, just as I was able to move exceptionally quickly. It was almost an ingrained part of me now.
“You won’t be able to hold yourself still in a scene with me. I guarantee it.” He pressed his lips together, and his eyes twinkled, as if he was trying hard to hold back laughter.
I rolled my eyes. “You’re not a god. A sound spanking and a few swats with a paddle aren’t going to make me wail and scream.”
“You see, Lois, this is where we have a problem. What do you think’s going to happen in that room? A little light spanking and a bit of hair pulling?”
“You pull hair as well? My, you are multi-talented.” A large, pink lobster was then paraded past me, and the pungent smell of garlic was upon the air. It was divine. My mouth watered, and I wondered why I’d never been brave enough to tackle it before. My sea bream, on the other hand, although perfectly cooked and seasoned, looked insipid in comparison.
“You have no idea how talented I am. There’s a reason women pay an awful lot of money for my services.”
I took a mouthful of perfectly cooked fish, which disintegrated on my tongue with a delicious tang of lemon, before I answered him. “And why do they part with so much money, Mr. Leverett?” Having a few suspicions of my own, they rested mostly on the fact that he possessed a singularly beautiful face, and the most mesmerising eyes I’d ever seen. How many women had fallen for that package, I wondered? Setting your sights on him would be akin to chasing a fairy tale. Thankfully, I didn’t want something that ephemeral, which was why he was only getting twenty-four hours of my time.
“Call me James. Tomorrow’s session will be informal address, as it’s your first time. Everything else about it will be formal, though.” He winked at me.
My face remained impassive and I paused for a second. “And the answer to my question, Mr. Leverett?” Goading him was too much fun to resist.
“You have no idea how much I want to take you over my lap right now and spank the living daylights out of you.” He flexed his fingers and his expression went dark. My delicate lace panties turned to mush.
“You’d probably be arrested for that kind of thing in a public place,” I offered helpfully. “But feel free.” I was enjoying myself. The chemistry, the wine, the food, the banter… whatever it was, electricity began to spark in fiery white light around me.
“And it might almost be worth it.” James peeled the tail flesh out of his lobster and cut it up into small bite-sized pieces. Picking one up with his fingers, he popped it into his mouth and a look of serene contentment crossed his face. “Delicious. You should try this.”
“I don’t know if I’d…” I had no chance to finish my sentence because James was pressing a small sliver of lobster against my lips. When I tried to decline his offer, the lobster was pushed firmly into my mouth and I bit down on his fingers in protest. Glaring at him, I released my hold, but did not appreciate his heavy-handedness.
“What if I was allergic to seafood?” I barked after I’d chewed and swallowed the most amazing thing I’d ever eaten in my life. I was now contemplating knocking him out, just so I could steal his dinner.
“If you were, you probably wouldn’t have ordered fish for dinner,” he pointed out reasonably. It did not make me feel better. I wanted to yell at him, to ensure he kept his fingers to himself for the rest of the evening, but I also wanted more lobster. It was a painful battle of mind over matter, and it was going to lead to my own personal destruction if I didn’t choose wisely. It was a struggle I was sorely tempted to lose, but somehow I managed to stay on the path of righteousness. “Who’s diverting the conversation now?” I said. “Why do women pay you an awful lot of money? Are they so masochistic they’ll do anything for an adrenaline high?”
“If they were, sky-diving, mountain climbing, or pot-holing would be cheaper.” He cracked open a lobster claw and sucked the contents into his mouth. I swallowed tightly and looked forlornly at my fish. Sighing, I decided to stare at him until I got my answer.
“You have no idea, do you?” He shook his head and licked his fingers, one by one. My pulse couldn’t take much more of this. Wanting to growl at him in frustration, I kept my gaze cool and held the stare. Eventually, he would give in. I hoped.
“Pleasure. Intense, unadulterated, fucking amazing pleasure. There isn’t a single woman who’s managed to withhold an orgasm from me, and I manage to make ninety percent of them go multiple. An average scene will have my client climaxing anywhere between five and ten times. The figures are more dependent on her stamina than my ability, for the record.”
My jaw wanted to drop open, but I was chewing, and it wouldn’t be a good look. He was lying. He had to be lying. Ten orgasms in a two-hour session? My stamina was good, but that would probably kill me. As to multiples, they were a thing of myths and legends. I have fun during sex, don’t get me wrong, but that much fun? If I signed up for this gig tomorrow, I’d probably have a heart attack. When I’d finally finished eating, I said, “Talk is cheap,” but he had me worried. Beginning to wonder if I had bitten off more than I could chew, my appetite quickly waned.
“You’ll regret that statement, because I’ll see it as a personal challenge. I may even be able to break my all-time record of fifteen orgasms. I suspect you’re one of the few women who might be able to handle me at my worst.”
“So our scene is going ahead?”
“I’ll probably regret it, but yes, providing you answer my last few questions satisfactorily, if you’re still interested, I’ll see you tomorrow afternoon at two o’clock.”
My stomach felt like it had dived to the bottom of the Pacific Ocean and, as it was about eleven thousand metres deep, it was quite a dive. Oh God, what had I just signed myself up for? Quit worrying, I admonished myself. It wasn’t like I had a choice. Duty called.
“Now do you want some kind of indication as to what will happen to you when you’re in a scene? What are your hard and soft limits, safe word, allergies, and anything else you think I should be aware of?”
This was happening. I felt terrified and excited all at the same time, and I wasn’t sure if it was a good combination. “No allergies, I’ll use the traffic light system, and I have no limits - hard, soft, or otherwise.”
He nearly choked on his wine, but managed to recover himself just in time, setting his glass carefully back down on the wooden table. “None?” The way his eyebrows had just risen up, you’d think I’d just told him Brad Pitt was gay.
“None,” I repeated. I sensed I was going regret that decision, but there was a reason for my madness. Besides, I suspected that even at his worst, James wouldn’t be that scary.
“Trust me when I say you do not want to give me free reign over your body, Lois, because I will take you at your word. If you have limits, you need to talk to me now. I’ll reel off some of the things that I think you’ll object to, shall I? Vaginal fisting, anal fisting…”
“Don’t make me repeat myself again, Mr. Leverett.” I had no wish to hear all of the things that might be in store for me. I’d read the checklist that Elite Encounters had sent me, and it was an eye opener, but I could handle pain. Besides, the session was only two hours long. It would be a piece of cake. “Surprise me.”
He shook his head in disbelief, but he said no more. His eyes captured my attention, though. They were laced with concern. Great, I’d gone and got exactly what I wanted, and he thought I was a complete nut. He was probably wondering if he could revoke his earlier offer and wash his hands of me. How did I get myself out of this one? Several of my fastest brain cells were put under immense pressure before I managed to come up with something halfway believable.
Sparks (A Special Agent Novel Book 1) Page 3