Bound to be Punished: Part I (Bound to be Punished Series)

by Miller, S. P.

  “What --,” the word came out barely audible and she cleared her throat, trying to reclaim her voice before asking more loudly, “what are you doing here?”

  “Here?” Charles indicated their surroundings and shrugged, “I’m celebrating the opening of The Serpent’s Pit, just like everyone else. What are you doing here?”

  “I came with a friend,” she answered automatically, then bit her tongue and glared at him, “but that’s not what I meant, and you know it.”

  Now that her initial adrenaline spike was wearing off, and perhaps because she’d also had a bit to drink, she was able to meet Charles’ dark gaze levelly. The familiar depths of his eyes drew her in from across the table, and she felt her nerves alighting with tingles of sensation just from the intensity of how he looked at her.

  “Why didn’t you warn me you’d be in LA?” she asked more quietly than before.

  Raising an eyebrow at her, he leaned back in his chair more comfortably, “first of all, I didn’t even know you moved here; you never did have the courtesy to inform me. Second, how would I have warned you?”

  Her glare returned anew, “you could have called.”

  Charles laughed, “oh really? You changed your phone number.”

  He had her there; she huffed, “then you should have sent an email.”

  Another lazy grin from him; he was enjoying riling her up, “you blocked my email.”

  Biting her tongue, Anne huffed again and fell silent. Jessica was nowhere in sight when she glanced back over to the dance floor, and Charles continued to sit directly across from her at the small table, a satisfied smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

  “As I think you’ll agree, you see, I’m not at fault here,” he added for good measure.

  Although she usually would have felt rather incensed by his attitude, the mixture of alcohol and lingering regret over how she’d called time on their relationship left her feeling more open and she said honestly, “Fair enough, Charles; I’m sorry.”

  She met his eyes when she said the last two words, hoping that her gaze conveyed more than she was comfortable saying in the club. Perhaps she wanted to say I’m sorry for leaving, but truthfully she wasn’t. Even if his presence less than two feet from her suddenly hammered home the regret she’d been denying for four months, she wasn’t sorry for having gone.

  “It’s not like you to apologize,” he commented, leaning toward her over the table, “but since I’m here, would you care to dance?”

  Oh no, she thought, withdrawing slightly in her chair. Dancing with him was a bad idea, especially if she intended to stay out of his bed, all of her instincts screamed as much. Charles held his hand out to her across the table, palm up as he invited her to the dance floor.

  For the second time that night the thought crossed her mind, oh to hell with it, and with a decisive action she reached out and accepted his hand. The contact between them was instant and electric, sending a thrill from the palm of her hand up to her shoulder and then hot down the column of her spine to the throbbing center between her legs.

  With practiced ease, he stood and drew her up, leading her through the mass of people, “I can’t say that I care much for the music,” he commented as he drew her firmly into his arms, bringing the length of her body into close contact with his, “but you do look ravishing tonight.”

  A rosy blush spread across her cheeks, fueled by the heat of the alcohol coursing through her veins, and she looked down for a moment to avoid his eyes as they glittered in amusement. Charles had always known he could make her blush unlike anyone else, and he exploited his ability to do so at virtually every opportunity.

  The comment wasn’t wholly unexpected, though. She knew she’d dressed in something of a revealing outfit, in a dark blue dress that clung to her curves and had a skirt that fell above her knees, and he always had loved to see her in a dress. Of course, she hadn’t been expecting to see her ex-boyfriend of all people, or to have his warm hands touching her through the thin fabric of that dress, she’d only intended to look good for the club opening.

  Charles made certain that she had precious little time to think about it, though. Spinning her and bringing her back into his arms with her back pressed intimately against his chest, he began dancing with her, each smooth movement full of a sensual grace.

  “Tell me why you left,” he led her as they danced, continuing just loud enough for her to hear him, “I didn’t stop you, but you must know I didn’t want you to go. So why did you?”

  Shaking her head, she sighed before looking up at him, “This isn’t really a place to talk about that, do we have to?”

  He regarded her seriously, the colored light dancing over them even as they continued to move to the beat of the music, “Then come somewhere else with me. Let’s go get a drink.”

  A wry grin stole across her lips before she could stop herself, and she laughed as he brought her back into his arms, snug and close, “I think I’ve already had too much to drink.”

  “Dinner then,” he offered, “We can grab a cab and go anywhere you want.”

  The offer was tempting as they danced together; she couldn’t avoid his soulful dark eyes or the mass of tousled black hair atop his head that invited her to comb her fingers through it. For a man approaching his mid-thirties, he barely looked a day over twenty-five. Only his eyes gave any hint of his maturity, a fact she’d originally fallen for in the first place.

  “I came here with a friend,” she reminded him, looking around for Jessica even as she said it, “let me tell her I’m leaving and we can get dinner.”

  It was rather late, by any reasonable standard, to be getting dinner, but what the heck. They were in LA after all.

  ***

  When the cab pulled up outside the Petit Ermitage hotel, Anne couldn’t help but be impressed. As usual, Charles displayed his immaculate taste, and she felt a warm rush of excitement as they left the cab. Beside the entryway of the hotel was an ornately carved pole, with gorgeous curving branches and leaves. Even though it was nearly 2 AM, the entryway was lit in a welcoming golden glow, and she looked sidelong at her ex.

  “They have an excellent restaurant,” he assured her, then added suggestively, “the rooftop gardens are exquisite, but they offer room service as well.”

  “Rooftop gardens, Charles,” she chided him, shaking her head slightly. I am not going to bed with him, she told herself firmly, dinner and some explanations, then out of here and home to bed, alone, absolutely. I’ll get my car from Jess’ tomorrow.

  “The rooftop it is,” he agreed amicably enough, eyes alight with amusement.

  “I can’t believe you’re staying here,” she commented as he led her through the lobby and to the elevator up to the rooftop. Looking at him sidelong, she asked, “Were you expecting romantic company on this trip of yours?”

  He only shrugged, relaxed and nonchalant, “I might be at this point,” he looked at her significantly, “but it wasn’t on my to-do list originally. I simply happen to enjoy the amenities of this hotel. Great rooms, fantastic decorations and it’s wonderfully close to the Sunset Strip without sacrificing noise level or neighborhood. Don’t you like it?”

  They were riding up in the elevator, but so far everything she’d seen of the interior matched the expectations she had from the entryway outside. It was a beautifully decorated hotel, full of golden tones and brown earth tones, giving it a very welcoming feel. “It’s lovely,” she admitted, glancing up at him again.

  It was strange, how shy she felt despite the fact that they knew one another intensely intimately, but their night together reminded her of the first night they met. She’d been slightly too drunk then as well, but the funny thing was that she usually didn’t drink much at all. The night they’d met, she had only been drinking because of her recent 21st birthday.

  Just like that night, his piercing dark eyes were unwaveringly upon her, as though he was waiting for her to reveal all her secrets to him. Whatever she wouldn’t rev
eal, he would find on his own, he would pry it out of her with those penetrating black eyes. A tight ball of arousal tinged with mild anxiety was coiled in the pit of her stomach.

  “Anne?” she jumped slightly when Charles reached out and touched her, one large, warm hand wrapping around her wrist as he pulled her out of the elevator. “Are you alright,” he asked, “You really did drink too much, didn’t you?”

  They’d arrived at the rooftop gardens and stepped out into a beautiful arrangement of fragrant, blooming flowers. It was exquisitely designed and maintained, creating a unique, romantic atmosphere. He looked highly amused by her lapse of attention, and she nodded in answer to his question, “Yes, I think I did. I’m sure some food will help clear my head up.”

  But would it help her heart, she wondered. Being so close to him brought everything she’d been ignoring back to the forefront of her mind. All the memories they’d shared over the course of three years, especially the memories of their passionate sex life. How could I forget, she thought wryly as she was reminded of the dreams she’d started to have after leaving. They universally featured her ex-boyfriend, but in spite of the countless mornings that she’d woken hot and intensely bothered, she had steadfastly ignored them.

  “So,” he addressed her when they’d taken their seats at a cozy, semi-enclosed table, “I believe you were going to tell me why you left the state of Washington and, oh yes, me.”

  They’d ordered their meals and she had run out of excuses to delay, so Anne bit her lip and steeled her fuzzy nerves to look him in the eye as she answered, “I left because I was frightened. And I am sorry for how I left, I know it wasn’t fair. I just knew I needed to get away, and it would never have happened if I stayed.”

  His eyes were unreadable, but she could see the look of grim acceptance that crossed his face temporarily and she sighed softly, looking down, “I don’t mean that I was afraid of you. I know you’d never hurt me, Charles. It’s the intensity of it that frightened me; I wanted to be with you and please you, but I don’t know if I’m ready for everything…”

  “I never said we had to do everything,” he informed her, reaching out to take hold of her hand gently, “we got through three years together, Anne. You know I can be gentle.” Turning her hand over in his, he leaned down and kissed the skin on the inside of her wrist, relishing the fact that he could feel her heart pounding fast at her pulse point.

  The contact of his lips against her sensitive skin left her slightly breathless and hot with desire, a tingling rush of arousal coursing through her and alighting her nerves. It also bought forth a deluge of memories; his lips on her throat, his teeth gently nipping at her skin, his tongue trailing lightly over her abdomen… she blushed and pulled away slightly, returning her hands to her lap where they were safe from his seductive caresses.

  Their dinner arrived soon enough, sparing her from any further temptation at the lips and fingertips of her ex-boyfriend. He’d suggested the mushroom risotto for her and ordered oysters for himself, a fact that made her raise one arched brow in barely concealed amusement. The meal did wonders to help clear her head, but as her nervousness faded she found herself being drawn in again by Charles, engaged by his candid humor, his wit and charm.

  Hell, the very tact and grace with which he’d handled her whole, somewhat abrupt decision to call time on their relationship only attracted her to him more strongly than ever. And he was right, absolutely positively right, when he said he could be gentle. Even with the passion that accompanied their relationship, there had been plenty of tenderness too.

  “So what brought you to LA?” she’d been curious to know since the moment she saw him in the club but had neglected to ask.

  He only shrugged slightly, “I had an important meeting and was then invited to the opening of that club. I think it’s quite fortunate that I found you there,” he added, “quite serendipitous, if you will.”

  “Yes,” she agreed, her voice falling softer, “serendipitous indeed.” Looking up at him from across the table, she felt divided and indecisive. She had missed him, more than she’d let herself admit, but it was impossible to deny when he was there, when he touched her, when he spoke to her and sat so near to her. Reaching out to Charles was like reaching toward a flame, though; he drew her in, but she didn’t want to be burned.

  “It’s very beautiful up here,” she commented, trying to change the subject and lighten the mood a bit, “the gardens are lovely.”

  “They are,” he agreed, but he hadn’t taken his eyes off her, “you can see most of the west hills from here, and they’ve got a fully maintained saltwater pool.”

  “You’ve always had impeccable taste, there’s no denying that,” she’d finished most of her food but continued to poke at what remained.

  “I have,” he acknowledged, and setting aside his wine he stood from the table and held his hand out to her, “come, let me show you around.”

  “Actually, I should probably be going,” she protested, remaining seated as she looked up at him. He only stood, stubborn in his insistence, until she reluctantly took his hand and stood up.

  “Please, Charles,” she entreated him softly, meeting his eyes from beneath her long, dark eyelashes, “please don’t make me regret tonight.”

  He smiled gently, bringing her lightly toward him as he looked down at her, “come now, Anne,” he chastised her softly, continuing to hold her hand as his other trailed slowly up her neck to caress her jaw and lift her chin slightly, bringing her eyes back up to his, “have you ever truly regretted being with me?”

  With that he did what she’d been secretly hoping for all night, and his lips consumed hers in a tender, passionate kiss. For four months he’d missed her, waiting for her to make up her mind and return to him. Now that he’d found her, spoken to her and smelled the sweet, delicate perfume of her body, there was no way he could let her go again.

  They were alone on the rooftop, and she melted into Charles’ warm embrace. His arms wrapped around her, fitting her perfectly against the length of his body and enveloping her in warmth. Had she ever felt more secure than she did in his arms? The tip of his tongue teased entrance to her mouth, and with his teeth gently nipped and nibbled upon her lips.

  His mouth moved away from hers, though, and she didn’t resist as he trailed gentle love bites and kisses across her jaw and to her ear. “Tell me you haven’t missed me,” he whispered raggedly in her ear, taking her earlobe gently into his hot mouth and biting her sensitive skin. The strength of her response to him literally sent a convulsion of energy through her, and she trembled as he continued to embrace her, “tell me you haven’t been dreaming about me or longing for me, and I’ll go, I’ll even call you a cab.

  “But don’t lie to me,” he lifted her chin again and kissed her soundly on the lips, “you know you can’t lie to me, you never could.”

  “Charles,” she gasped as he pressed her back against their table, pressing the whole length of his body close against hers so that she could feel him through their clothing. He held her warmly around the waist with one hand, the other tangled in her luscious, thick hair and cradling the back of her neck, “Charles, we’re in public!”

  Relenting slightly, he pulled away after a final kiss, “I knew you had missed me. Come with me, Anne,” he stepped back slightly, taking a cursory look around the gardens, “come down to my room and talk some more.”

  Right, she took a deep breath, trying to steady her nerves as her heart pounded. Looking up at him, she asked softly, “do you swear you’ll be gentle?”

  “Absolutely,” he answered immediately and with total honesty, he continued, “Anne, you know me; you know how much I love you.” Drawing her closer to him again, he trailed one hand down her back, tracing the column of her spine through the thin fabric of her dress, all the way down to her tailbone and back up to her skull, “you remember how tender I can be.”

  A thrill ran down her spine in the wake of his fingertips. Oh yes, she remembered alrigh
t. Going into her relationship with Charles, she’d been sure she was no wilting flower, but he’d taken her to wholly unimagined heights. It took a special kind of man to prolong the peak of pleasure for several hours or to tease her for days, sometimes weeks, on end before satiating her incredible desire for him; he was such a man, and she remembered it well.

  “Which room are you in?” she asked, blushing lightly even as she admonished herself mentally, oh yes, this definitely is not leading to his bed… she sighed. Self-recriminations could wait until after she’d given in to his wicked ways.

  ***

  Charles’ room was on the third floor, with a decent view of the surrounding neighborhood and the taller buildings in the distance. She was pleasantly surprised to find that his room had a full kitchen and a fireplace, but he only laughed lightly and responded to her look, “As I said, I enjoy the amenities of this hotel. You might forget you’re away from home.

  “Now come here, my dear,” he’d taken his jacket off at the door and he unbuttoned the cuffs of his linen shirt, beckoning her to follow him after he removed his shoes.