by Sasha White
Cooking for someone, just chatting and enjoying each other’s company was something totally new for her. And she liked it.
She liked Karl.
It went beyond the banked heat that was in his eyes and the sparks that went through her every time their fingers brushed or their knees bumped. The pleasure she got when he bit into his salmon and moaned appreciatively was matched only by the joy of verbally sparring with him.
He was quick and funny, and she loved that even though he’d been spanking her ass an hour ago, he didn’t feel the need to try and constantly dominate her.
As if the natural conversation didn’t prove that, when dinner was done, and she stood to clear the plates, he helped!
“You wash, I’ll dry,” he said, grabbing a dishtowel and standing at her side.
“I’m surprised you don’t want to wash since you like to dip your fingers into the wetness so much.”
“It’s the bubbles.” He looked at her, completely straight-faced. “I prefer smooth and creamy wetness.”
She snorted. “No doubt!”
He laughed and they made quick work of the dishes. When she bent over to put away the cutting board she felt the light snap of a towel against her ass.
“Hey!” She straightened, covering her backside with her hands. “My butt is sensitive enough right now, thank you very much.”
He tried to look shamed, but the grin kept him from pulling it off. “I couldn’t resist when you bent over like that.”
“Oh yeah?” She snatched up the other tea towel, and started to twirl it menacingly. “Prepare for battle, buddy.”
She took a fighting stance and flicked her wrist, snapping the towel at his thigh. Quicker than she could blink he grabbed the towel and tugged her against his chest. “I’d rather just say thank you for a wonderful dinner,” he said before his mouth slanted over hers.
Lara opened for him without hesitation. She dropped the towel and wrapped her arms around his neck, her tongue meeting his, dancing and rubbing as she leaned into him.
He pulled back and nipped at her bottom lip, a growl rumbling from his chest and fluttering over her. “I need to get going.”
A sigh rose within her, but she squelched it. What was her problem? She’d been with him for hours the night before, and again for hours that evening. She should be sick of him, she should be craving her own space, not wanting to hang on to him.
“Yeah, it’s getting late and I need to go talk to Peter about my car.” She pulled her arms back and tried to take a step back only to have his hands grip her hips and hold her in place. He tapped his forehead lightly against hers, and she gazed up at him.
“We’re not going to see each other again until next week, sugar. I need you to think about what we’ve done, and all I’ve said. I am a Dom, and I need a sub. I think that’s you, but only you can decide for sure.” His hand slid around and squeezed her tender butt cheeks. “We will stay in touch, though. You have my email, and all my phone numbers; you can call me anytime, for any reason. Understood?”
Lara nodded, her chest tight.
Her first instinct was to ask why she couldn’t see him for so long, but she bit her tongue. She did need to think. So, she forced a confident smile, and spoke firmly. “Understood.”
“Okay then.” He pressed a quick, hard kiss to her lips and stepped back. “Thank you for a wonderful dinner. It was just what I needed.”
“You’re welcome.” She walked him to the door, giving him a cheerful wave before closing it on his retreating form, and leaning against it.
After a minute of looking at her empty suite, listening to the tinny notes of music still coming from her laptop, she spun on her heel and headed for the stairway to Peter and Graham’s floor.
She did have to say thank you to Peter for dealing with her car issues, she did not suddenly feel a little lost.
26
Lara couldn’t sleep. Again.
Every time she closed her eyes, Karl appeared to her, dressed in his leather pants with his wicked tattoo and light glinting off the jewelry in his nipples. In her mind he was standing there, arms wide open, saying “You can have me…if you dare.”
If she dared.
After living on the streets as a runaway for three of her teenage years, she dared pretty much anything. Except letting people get too close. She’d learned the hard way, her first year on the streets, that letting people too close was a good way to get hurt. Emotions hurt.
Emotions other than pleasure, that is.
Lara knew that was why she loved sex so much; it was the only time she really let herself go, the only time she really let herself feel. It was a safe outlet for her because she only took lovers who would want no-strings sex.
Karl was supposed to be that way. Graham thought his lectures about Karl going through women or not wanting a girlfriend would stop her, but really, it had only encouraged her. And she was thankful, because the sex with Karl was good.
Hell, it was better than any she’d ever had.
Now it was more than that. She actually enjoyed spending time with him. Talking to him, joking with him…being with him. When was the last time she’d enjoyed another person’s company so much? Not just a man, but anyone?
It’s what happened after the sex that really got to her. He was strong and dominant, yet oh so gentle and caring. She didn’t have any defenses against that gentleness. It crawled into her system and made her want more.
She didn’t even know what more was! She knew nothing about relationships—she hadn’t even had a relationship with her own parents.
For fuck sake, the little voice in her head said. Just ask him. He wanted you to think about it…so ask him!
So, out of bed she went. She grabbed her laptop off the kitchen table and hustled back to bed. It was late, and he wouldn’t get the email until morning at the earliest, but she had to get her thoughts out, or she’d never get any rest.
* * *
Good Morning, Karl.
* * *
I’ve been lying in my bed tossing and turning, trying to fall asleep, but I can’t. I can’t sleep because I can’t stop thinking about you and the things you said tonight.
You said we’d keep in touch this week, and I should take some time to think about it all, but I need answers now. You’ve also always said I could ask you anything.
So, here goes anything.
Just what exactly do you want from me? I’ve been on my own for a long time, and I like it that way. I like my space, and my independence. I’m not going to try and deny that I don’t also like what you do to my body, but I also have to admit that the intensity of this…thing between us sort of freaks me out a bit.
You’re right, though. It’s not just the sex. It’s everything you make me feel, so my question is…if I decide that maybe I do want to work on this, that maybe taking it beyond strictly sexual is something I want to try, how do we do that?
I know you’re going to say Trust You. Isn’t that what all submissives are supposed to do…trust their Dom? But it’s not as easy as that. Not for me. I need to know what you have in mind. This is all new to me—not just the dominant/submissive thing, but any sort of a relationship that is beyond casual.
So, now that I’ve made a complete idiot of myself by admitting I’m almost twenty-seven years old and have never had a real relationship of any kind…I’m going to say good night and hit send before I chicken out.
* * *
Lara
* * *
She closed her eyes, hit “Send,” and then clapped her hands over her face. “Oh God, what am I getting myself into?”
Sucking in a deep breath, she blew it out slowly, and her pounding heart calmed. Before panic could get ahold of her, she closed her computer down and shut out the light.
It was done.
Sure it was easier to spill her guts in an email than in person, but now she had to wait for a reply.
Waiting was not one of her strong suits.
27<
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“I don’t know why you keep that crappy job anyway,” Graham said as he set the steaming teapot in the middle of their table.
Lara heaved a sigh and reached out to pour herself another cup. “It’s a good job, regular hours, regular paycheck. Security is important to me.”
She’d woken up early, unable to sleep, and had heard his footsteps above her head. Figuring misery loved company, she went upstairs for breakfast before work. Breakfast being tea and toast.
“Yes,” Graham said with a smirk. “But your paycheck isn’t exactly big. You can’t even live on what you make and you work thirty-five hours a week, let alone pay a three hundred dollar ticket!”
“I’ve got the money, it just sucks completely because I did stop. That bitch needs glasses.” She’d just finished telling him about how she’d gotten pulled over by a lady cop the day before…for rolling through a red light on right turn.
“Of course, I wasn’t stupid enough to say that to her,” she grimaced at Peter.
“Smart.” He nodded his approval.
“The point isn’t that you got a ticket, or even that the company won’t cover it,” Graham continued. “The point is that you have a ticket to pay, what right does the company have to fine you? In fact, I should ask Mr. Dawson, I bet it’s illegal for them to fine you for getting a ticket.”
Her eyebrows snapped down so fast she gave herself a headache. “Don’t. You. Dare.”
“What? He is a lawyer, you know?”
“Try the innocent look on someone who doesn’t know you, Graham. My getting a speeding ticket is none of Karl’s business. I’m still pissed at you for telling him about the tires. If you ever want me to speak to you again, you’ll keep your mouth zipped.”
Graham arched a brow at Peter. “She’s pretty adamant, isn’t she?”
“Very. I wonder why?”
Maybe because two days later my ass is still tender? “Because things with Karl are complicated right now, that’s all.”
“Ohhh. Details, details, please.” Graham rubbed his hands together.
“Graham,” Peter growled. “Take it easy on her.”
Graham stared at Peter and the temperature in the kitchen dropped a few degrees. “Why?”
“It’s okay, Peter,” she said before the two could get into an argument. “It’s not a big deal. Things are just moving fast, and maybe getting more serious than I want. It’s not a big deal.”
But Graham had heard the one word she should’ve left out. “Maybe getting more serious than you want? What’s with the maybe, sweetheart? You’ve always been the ultimate Alpha Loner chick… Is that changing? Have you maybe met your Alpha Man?”
She rolled her eyes and tried to shrug him off. “Don’t be so dramatic. We like each other, we have good chemistry, and who knows? Maybe it’s time I gave having a steady man in my life a try.”
The complete silence in the room was unnerving. Lara licked her thumb and used it to pick up the crumbs from her toast that had fallen on the table.
“I think that’s great, Lara. You deserve to have someone who’ll look after you.” Graham smiled softly and she relaxed.
That sounded good. She didn’t even feel the need to state that she didn’t need someone to look after her.
* * *
“And you said he wouldn’t pay.”
Karl could swear he saw a canary feather flutter to the floor from Lisa Pollock’s lips. The woman definitely had the look of a cat with a full belly.
They’d had an early negotiation meeting with Brad Pollock and his lawyer, and while his client had what she wanted, he couldn’t shake the ugly feeling in the pit of his stomach.
“I’m glad you’re happy, Lisa,” he said as he opened her car door for her. “Will you tell me how you got those photos now?”
“Why are you so interested in that?” she asked.
He forced a smile. “I need good investigators myself sometimes. To get photos like that, yours must be very good.”
She nodded, her gaze unreadable behind her sunglasses. “I’ll call you with the name when Brad’s first check shows up.”
She got into the car and he closed the door behind her, waving her off. It wasn’t his responsibility to find out who took the pictures, but he couldn’t help but try. No one deserved to be photographed in a vulnerable position, in a place where they’d been assured safety and anonymity. He’d do what he could, but he had no doubt Mason Hardin would get to the bottom of it no matter what. That man’s polished exterior definitely hid something dangerous.
Karl went back into the parking garage and climbed into his truck. The trip back to his office was quick, and Karl’s mind was four steps ahead of him the minute he stepped into his office.
He pulled a folder from his briefcase and handed it to Graham. “Get those filed as quick as possible and close out Lisa Pollock’s account. When’s my next appointment?”
“Fifteen minutes.” Graham traded files with him. “Janet Redding, a potential new client.”
“Another woman,” he muttered. “Why do I only get the female clients?”
Graham sat back in his chair and ran his eyes up and down Karl’s body in an exaggerated perusal. “Gee, I don’t know, Mr. Dawson.”
“Stop eating me up with your eyes or I’m telling your boyfriend.” Karl smirked and headed for his office. “And stop staring at my ass.”
It was unprofessional of him to say something like that to his assistant, but the way Graham’s jaw had dropped had been worth it. Besides, he was a friend of Lara’s, so there was some leeway.
He tossed his briefcase down, booted up his computer, and headed for the coffee pot. Coffee, he needed coffee. He’d been in a rush that morning, distracted by thoughts of how he could’ve been waking up with Lara, and hadn’t had any coffee yet.
It was much needed to keep his head from exploding.
He poured a cup, took a scalding swallow, and opened his email program. Lara’s name was at the top of the inbox, and he froze. Was she backing out already? The way his morning had gone, his sassy sub would probably try to run.
Setting his coffee down he clicked on her name and started reading. His mouth went dry and his palms started to sweat. She wasn’t running. She wasn’t jumping in with both feet…but she wasn’t running!
He read the email, and then re-read it. Then re-read it again, with so many possible responses at the tip of his fingertips when he hit “Reply.” He wanted to answer everything, he wanted to answer the question she hadn’t asked yet but he knew would follow. He couldn’t scare her away, though. She was right on the edge and he had to be careful. He did not want to fuck it up.
With a deep breath, he started typing.
* * *
Of course you can always ask me anything. And if you need answers now, I’ll give them to you.
Let’s start with what I want from you. What I want is just what I said. I want you to realize that what we have is more than sex. I want you to accept it, and work with me toward building this into a real relationship.
You’re very brave to tell me that you’re a little freaked out, and I appreciate it. To know how you are feeling, what you are thinking, is what I need. Now I want you to realize something…you are already giving this a chance, simply by asking these questions, and talking to me.
Welcome to our relationship, Lara.
28
Lara’s first urge when she got home from work on Thursday was to open up her computer and see if Karl had answered her email. But her brain wouldn’t let her. Instead she headed upstairs to chat with Peter before Graham got home, but she took her phone with her, just in case he called instead of emailed.
“Knock knock,” she called out when she didn’t see Peter in the kitchen or living room. “Is it a bad time?”
“Perfect timing, actually.” Peter came out of the second bedroom, his office, scrubbing his fingers through his hair. “If I don’t get away from the computer I’m going to put my fist through the screen any
minute now.”
“Writer’s block?”
“No, just stubborn characters. I need a drink.” He grabbed a couple of beers from the fridge and they sat at the kitchen table. “What’s up, Lara?”
She took her time getting comfortable, twisting off the beer bottle cap and putting her feet up on the chair across from her. “What makes you think something’s up? I can’t just come say hi?”
He stared at her.
“Fine. I want to see how you and Graham are doing.”
Peter cocked his head to the side, his eyes laughing. “We’re doing fine. How are you and Karl?”
She grimaced. Her and Karl. Like they were already a couple in people’s minds. “That’s not fair. You and Graham have been together since I’ve known you. I care if you guys are having trouble.”
“I care if you’re having trouble with Karl.”
Was she having trouble with Karl? Or was she just having trouble with the idea of anyone getting close? Shit, that sort of self-analysis was what she was trying to avoid at the moment.
“We can talk about me later. Spill. Graham’s pretty worried about you craving a woman, you know.”
Peter choked on his beer, a bit of the foamy liquid spewing onto the table. She got up and grabbed the paper towel while he tried to get his breath back. “He told you that?”
“Yes.”
He took the towel from her and wiped the table and the front of his shirt. Then his mouth as he looked at her. “Did he mention who it was I’ve been…desiring?”
“No.” She tried to hide her surprise. “I didn’t know it was someone specific, I thought it was just a woman. You know, craving a little pussy.”