by Julia Devlin
“Oh?” His fingers continued their slow, almost lazy perusal, dropping to the curve of her neck then sliding back up again. “And what did you mean, Abby?”
She opened her mouth then snapped it shut. What had she meant? She licked her dry lips. “Um, I don’t know. Aggressive? Maybe?”
“Your list has a theme, little girl.”
For some odd reason her heartbeat kicked up. “No it doesn’t.”
His hand slid back up to her nape. “I can assure you, you’re wrong. You’re full of surprises, Abby. I’d never have guessed you have a taste for domination.”
“I do not!” She didn’t even know what that meant, she just knew it was wrong and she needed to deny it.
“Is that so?” His grip tightened so she felt the pressure of his thumb on the pulse beating rapidly in her neck. “I was going to go easy on you, but since I can see you’re going to be difficult, I’ll spell it out.”
She swallowed past her dry-as-the-Sahara throat. That sounded ominous. She said nothing and continued to stare down at her silverware as though it were the rarest of treasures.
“You want to be tied up, spanked, put on display in a sex club, captured and used hard.” His warm breath on the shell of her ear made her tremble despite her nerves. “Do you know what kind of girls like that kind of thing?”
She shook her head.
“Look at me.”
The last thing on earth she wanted to do was look at him, but some mysterious force compelled her to meet his gaze. She sucked in a breath. She’d expected to see sympathy or maybe amusement, but his dark eyes smoldered.
“Girls who like to be dominated.” He brushed his thumb over her lower lip. The touch erotic as his gaze captivated hers. “Controlled.”
Cheeks flaming, she frowned. Well, when he put it that way…
“I can see you’re confused,” he said conversationally, as though they were discussing the weather. “Do you know much about domination and submission, Abby?”
“No.” The word came out like a croak. She cleared her throat. “Isn’t that when people dress up in leather and wear collars and stuff?”
She shuddered she didn’t like the idea of that.
He picked up a lock of hair and twirled it around his fingers. “For some people, if that’s what they like, but for others it can be strictly in the bedroom where one person gives up complete control to another.”
Complete control? “What does that mean?”
“Whatever we want it to.” Brown eyes gleaming, a smile that was pure sin slid over his lips. “Or should I say, what I want it to?”
Abby pressed her thighs together as an unfamiliar ache took residence between them.
“Let’s try a little experiment.” He flashed that damn dimple that always made her melt.
“What?” Nerves twisted in her stomach. She’d given him the wrong impression. All she wanted was a little bit wild.
She wanted the exact opposite. She wanted to take control, not give it up.
“Abby.” His tone took on the same edge from earlier and like before it made goose bumps break out over skin. “Have you ever had an orgasm?”
Heat fanned out over her cheeks and she moved back, wanting to avert her gaze only to find his fingers locked around her neck in a tight grip.
His thumb pressed against her rapidly beating pulse point. The gesture was threatening, but her stomach dipped and her nipples puckered into tight little buds so the fabric of her dress abraded the sensitive flesh.
Her heartbeat picked up another notch as a thread of panic weaved an unexpected pattern with desire.
He moved fast, and before she could bolt, his mouth claimed hers.
She opened immediately to his onslaught as his tongue curled around hers. His hand tightened on her throat as he kissed her with that aggressive, hard possessiveness she’d always craved. A wave of lust crashed over her and she was sucked into the swirling, chaotic undertow.
It was every kiss she’d ever dreamed of. Eyes closed, a low whimper left her throat, and she gripped his muscled forearm.
Abruptly he broke away, she chased his mouth.
“What I say goes.” He punctuated his remark with a short, brutal kiss. “The second you sent me that list, you gave up control to me.” Again his lips claimed hers.
A desire she’d never experienced before coiled tight, pushing past her nerves and reservations.
When he ripped his mouth away, she practically fell into his lap. “When I ask you something, I expect an answer, not questions.”
Heat licked through her body.
His mouth crashed down on hers, and there was no more thought. The invasion of his tongue leaving no doubt in her mind how he was handling her.
Or that she liked it.
He released her mouth. His grip remained tight on her neck. “Now tell me if you’ve ever had a fucking orgasm.”
Eye lids flying open, she met his penetrating gaze.
She couldn’t deny her response. Her body practically vibrated from wanting him. Her nipples were hard. The fabric of the black thong she wore damp. She’d never been this turned-on, and he’d barely touched her.
After sending the email this morning, she’d promised she’d to go unabashedly for what she wanted. Come hell or high water. And his little experiment was exactly what she’d meant when she’d said she wanted to be handled. Only she hadn’t known it.
She shook her head. “I don’t think so.”
The corners of his mouth softened. “If you’re not sure, then you haven’t.”
She squared her shoulders, tilting her chin. She knew it was pathetic she’d never had an orgasm, but at least she was doing something about it. And the last thing she wanted was for him to feel sorry for her.
He leaned in close and flicked his tongue along her bottom lip. “Trust me, Abby. I find everything about you sexy as hell.”
Her chest squeezed and she wanted to throw her arms around him in gratitude.
The waiter chose that moment take to their dinner orders, but Lukas sent him away since their menus still lay unopened on the table. When he picked up the cream-colored menu and handed it to her, she swallowed, trying to work some moisture into her dry throat. “I don’t think I can eat.”
The wicked smile he bestowed on her made her blood race. “You’d better. You’re going to need your strength.”
“Oh.” She bent her head to study the entrée selections with elaborate concentration but little interest. She decided on the first pasta dish she saw that didn’t have long noodles she’d have to slurp into her mouth.
The server returned, and after they placed dinner orders, Lukas returned his attention back on her. “Have you ever tried to get yourself off?”
Still embarrassed by this personal line of questioning, she shrugged.
“That’s not an answer.”
“Fine! A few times, but it didn’t work.”
His hand slipped onto her bare knee and she jumped in surprise. With his thumb stroking the inside of her leg, he asked, “What did you do?”
“What do you mean?” His hand moved higher and she pressed her thighs together.
He nipped her earlobe. “Did you rub your clit?”
His hand moved higher, skimming along her sensitive skin. Palm gripping the curve of her thigh, she clenched her muscles tighter, but he was too strong.
“Open.” It wasn’t a request.
She complied, and he lifted her leg, sliding it onto his lap. The position left her open and vulnerable. She went hot all over. Shallow breaths were all she could manage as his fingers came to rest so high on her inner thigh he touched the seam of her panties.
His tongue ran along the edge of her earlobe. “Tell me.”
“I think so.” Between the heat of his palm and the slow stroke of his fingers, her eyelids drooped.
“Get up and go the bathroom and take off your panties.”
Her lids flew open. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me, and
when you get back to the table, hand them over.”
A rush of heat, panic and anticipation raced through her. She stared up at him with incredulity.
He chuckled. “I think it’s time we got started on that orgasm.”
Chapter Five
Gaze trained on the bathroom door, Lukas drank his wine and contemplated his ability to make it through dinner. Somehow he didn’t quite think getting fucked on the table in full view was what Abby meant when she’d put public sex on her list, but damned if he didn’t have the desire to do just that.
When was the last time he had wanted anyone this badly? And how surprising it turned out to be Abby. Sure, he’d always found her funny and smart, but he’d never have guessed she hid this wild streak. This mixture of innocence, curiosity and sex appeal made his normal, no-nice-girls rules impossible to abide by.
It didn’t matter that she was his neighbor. Or that, despite her claims to the contrary, she was a forever type of girl. None of his reservations mattered. Because, selfishly, he wanted her. And if he didn’t take her up on this outlandish offer, she’d find some other guy. A safer guy—one who’d never understand what she really needed.
It had to be him. He’d worry about the future later.
The bathroom door opened and she emerged. Not looking right or left, she zeroed in on their table, and weaved a path through the restaurant. Her right hand clenched in a fist, he stifled a groan when he realized it was her panties. Male patrons shot covert glances in her direction, their appreciation clear.
Not that Abby paid any attention. Unlike most women he dated, she didn’t bother to see who watched her.
She slid into the booth, keeping a good foot and a half between them. He hid his smile. The contradiction between the advance and retreat of her sexuality made him want to rip her clothes off and put an end to the argument about which side of her should win.
He crooked a finger. “Come here.”
She shot him a wary glance but moved a fraction of an inch in his direction.
“Closer.”
Again she moved, but not anywhere close to where he wanted her.
In a warning tone, he said, “You looking to get that spanking crossed off your list the first night?”
Eyes going wide as saucers, she sidled right up next to him.
“Good girl.”
He chuckled when she gave him a fierce scowl before lifting her wineglass to her lips with only the slightest of tremors. She took a huge gulp of the Chianti, her throat working as she tried to swallow her nerves along with her wine. When she put the goblet back on the table, her little chin tilted up. He admired her determination, despite her obvious uneasiness.
Soon enough she’d realize her discomfort, along with anticipation, only heightened her arousal.
He could only pray he’d survive.
The heat of her body warmed his skin though his clothes. The scent of her swirled around him, the mixture of sweet spice and sex making him dizzy. He held out his palm. “Hand them over.”
“Fine, here.” She raised her eyes to the ceiling and shook her head. Despite the fact she clearly found him unreasonable, she pressed black silk panties into his waiting palm.
He rubbed the fabric between his thumb and forefinger, not surprised at the already damp fabric. “For a girl who’s so annoyed, you certainly are wet, aren’t you?”
She gasped, her breasts overflowing the top on her dress as she sucked in a huge breath. “I amannoyed!”
“I know you are,” he said agreeably. “Funny how it only makes you more aroused.”
“It does not.” In a major huff, she crossed her arms over her chest.
He rubbed his thumb over the wet fabric in slow circles, the scent of her arousal filling his nose and rushing to his already painfully hard cock. Abby watched his movements in wide-eyed horror.
“Another time,” he tucked the panties into his pocket for safekeeping before crooking a finger under her chin and forcing her to meet his eyes, “I’ll put them on the table so even the waiter can see what kind of girl you’re hiding under that prim exterior.”
Cheeks flushing ten shades of red, she jerked away. “I’m not hiding.”
He slid his arm around her shoulders and toyed with her hair. “Aren’t you?”
“No.” She picked up her napkin and twisted it in her lap.
Before he could comment, the waiter delivered salads Lukas didn’t want. When they were once again alone, he asked, “Is your dress new?”
She rolled her eyes, that smartass nature of hers peeking through her discomfort. “Of course, you know this isn’t my standard attire.”
Lukas contemplated the dress, it was amazing on her. But that wasn’t really the point as far as he was concerned. He wanted to know how it made her feel. Most women fiddled with a dress that short, tight and revealing even when they knew it looked good—but not Abby. She didn’t fidget or fuss with the hem. “Do you like it?”
She looked down at herself before shrugging. “It’s fine.”
He twined a lock of hair around his finger and let the silky strands slip through. “That’s not really an answer.”
“Why does it matter?” She picked up her fork but made no move to eat her salad.
“Because I say it does.”
She glared at him, annoyance tightening the curve of her lips.
He raised a brow.
She sighed. “I’m not sure how I feel, awkward, I guess. I put it on and refused to think about it again. It’s just clothes and it covers all the vital parts.”
Lukas ran a finger along the curve between her neck and shoulder. “You look very fuckable. Every man in the room has his eyes on you.”
“You don’t have to say that.” With her big brown eyes, she glanced up at him and gave him a tentative little smile. “In case you haven’t figured it out yet, I’m a sure thing.”
He laughed. That dry, self-effacing wit was as charming as ever, but he didn’t like that she thought so little of herself. “I think it’s time for another experiment.”
The smile died on her lips and her expression turned wary. “I don’t like the sound of this.”
“It will be easy, I promise.” He gave her a slow once-over before nodding. “I want you to get up and go to the bathroom again, but this time you are to pay attention to the men in the room.”
“You’re crazy.” She waved her hand.
Of course she thought he was being polite because she had no idea. Not that he didn’t understand. Until yesterday, he’d never paid much attention to her appearance. She’d always seemed so conservative and reserved, as if she wanted to melt into the background. But now he knew better, and he was determined to get to the bottom of this.
He gripped her jaw. When she averted her gaze, he commanded, “Look at me.”
She obeyed, although the corners of her lips titled down in a frown.
“Abby, I’m not doing you a favor.” His hand fell away and he curled his fingers around the back of her neck. “Believe it or not you’re doing me the favor.”
She licked her lips. “You don’t need to bolster my self-esteem, I’m comfortable with who I am.”
“No you’re not. If you were, there wouldn’t be such a contrast to how you portray yourself and the items on your list.” Before she could speak, he flicked his tongue along the seam of her lips before dipping to her neck to skim his mouth along the hollow. Her breath hitched and he licked the rapid pulse beating as fast as his own. “You walking in on me last night and your email this morning are the hottest, most exciting things I’ve experienced in a long time. I’ve been with you less than two hours and I’ve already enjoyed myself more than I have in my last six months of dates combined.”
The frown deepened. “They must have been pretty boring dates.”
He pressed his forehead against hers. “They were. Next to you.”
“I’m sure you’re being nice.” Voice soft and unsure, she pulled back and smiled, but it didn’t quite reach
her eyes. “But it’s still working.”
He grabbed her hand and pressed her open palm to his hard, aching cock. “Does this feel like I’m being nice?”
Wide innocent eyes flew to his.
“I’ve been like this since you opened your front door.” He moved her hand up and down the length.
“Oh!” She yanked away.
“Now back to the experiment. You are to get up, walk across the restaurant, paying attention to the men.” He studied her then made his decision. “In the bathroom, slip your fingers under that killer dress, I want you to know how wet you are.”
Cheeks turned pink and she coughed. “But why?”
“Because you’re an accountant and we all know the proof is in the numbers, don’t we, Abby?”
Proof wasin the numbers.
The walk through the restaurant was an eye-opening experience. Lukas was right. Men, both young and old couldn’t seem to help themselves from looking in her direction. Her heart squeezed in her chest as she sagged against the bathroom door.
Was it possible she wasn’t invisible?
All her life she’d never tried with her appearance because she’d believed it was a lost cause. Eden was the pretty one. Abby was the smart one. Everyone, including her parents, said so. It hadn’t made sense to her even to attempt to compete in a contest she’d never win, so she’d never made an effort.
But maybe she was wrong.
She glanced in the mirror, blinked and came into focus. High color stained her cheekbones, her lips were full and swollen from Lukas’ kisses and her brown eyes looked luminous. She ran her gaze down her body, taking in the dress in a different way than she had in Nordstrom’s dressing room. This afternoon she’d only been looking at it to fit Lukas’ criteria. Now she studied how it fit her.
She liked it but it looked more like Eden. Next time she’d find something equally stunning but that suited Abby.
She smiled. Maybe this experience would teach her about more than just sex. Maybe, by the end of this, she’d learn who she wanted to be.
* * * * *
The waiter delivered the entrees and removed their untouched salads when Abby returned to the table. As she slid into the booth, Lukas’ grin turned positively smug as he looked her up and down. “And?”