Dark Attraction: The Corde Noire Series

by Alexandrea Weis

  Sam nodded. “Spent a lot of my time in ER’s growing up. Probably the reason I went into nursing. It was familiar to me.”

  He dabbed the gauze against her forehead. “Why didn’t you call the super to fix your cabinet, or at least ask me?”

  “I thought I could do it myself.”

  “You need someone to look out for you, especially since you’re so accident prone. You should let me take care of you.”

  She pushed his hand away. “What are you saying, Doug?”

  He dropped the gauze in the sink. Leaning over, he rested his hands on each side of her thighs, putting his face within inches of hers. “I would like you to be mine. Be my submissive.”

  Sam was overwhelmed. Sure, she had been thinking about it, but for the man to come out and say it was more than a bit alarming.

  “What makes you think I would make a good submissive?”

  He grinned. “Instinct.”

  “Maybe your instinct is wrong about me.”

  “I doubt it. You’re a nurse, and nurses often make very good submissives. They’re used to taking orders.”

  Sam put her hand against her throbbing forehead. “Then you know nothing about nurses. We’re patient advocates, and that means questioning orders we don’t feel are appropriate, not blindly accepting everything a doctor demands. Do you know how many residents I’ve caught writing the wrong orders?” She dropped her hand to the countertop. “Why me, Doug?”

  “I thought that was obvious. I want you. I’ve always wanted you, Sam. I sense you want me, too … but the only way I can have you is my way.”

  “And your way is to make me your submissive.”

  He arched away from her, crossing his arms over his chest. “What do you know about being a submissive?”

  “Piper, my friend from work, had a boyfriend who was a Dominant. He liked to tie her up and hang her his ceiling.” She glared at him. “Is that what you want to do with me?”

  “No. Every Dominant is different. We have preferences in the way we treat our subs.”

  “So what are your preferences?”

  He let out a long breath as he stood back and rested his hip against the vanity. “It would be easier to show you than to explain it. What I want to achieve involves allowing my subs to enjoy the utmost in pleasure, while catering to my needs … my will as a Dominant. Controlling you is not the goal. Controlling your pleasure is.”

  She touched her hand to her head. “So you’re not out to rob me of my will?”

  “No, I’m out to help you explore your sensuality.”

  Climbing down from the vanity, Sam’s deep blush burned her cheeks. “I think you might be pretty disappointed then.”

  He held her arm. “Why do you say that?”

  There it was again. That desire to tell him everything, but she knew better than to give him that kind of control. Maybe she should just let him have his way with her, and avoid telling him about her non-existent sex life. An experienced man like Doug would never want an almost virgin like her.

  “What would I have to do?”

  The surprise registered on his face gave her a surge of pleasure. The glint of warmth in his icy eyes made him even more attractive.

  He let go of her arm, and the warmth vanished. “We could start with some basic trust-building exercises. Things to help you become comfortable with me.”

  She arched an eyebrow at him. “You don’t think I’m comfortable with you?”

  “Not comfortable enough to take off your clothes and walk around naked in front of me.”

  Yeah, she wasn’t that comfortable yet. “Is that what you want your subs to do?”

  He said nothing as his eyes brushed up and down her scrubs. “Maybe you should consider these initial exercises as an experiment. If you like it, we can do more. If you don’t want to go on, we can just be … neighbors.”

  She raised her chin, trying to appear confident. “What if I want to go on?”

  He stood from the counter. “Let’s just see how you do, Sam.”

  Doug was strutting to the bathroom door when she asked, “Are these trust-building exercises going to involve sex?”

  He stopped at the doorway and glanced back at her. “I will not be having sex with you, Sam. That is something I only do with a submissive.”

  “Then what are we going to do?”

  “Right now, I’m going to get some ice for your head and then cook us dinner. After that, we’ll begin your lessons.” He walked out of the bathroom, grinning.

  If he isn’t going to have sex with me, what is he going to do?

  * * *

  After a dinner of salad with homemade vinaigrette and grilled chicken with cilantro, Doug poured the last dregs from the bottle of Riesling wine he had retrieved from his apartment into her glass. Sam had noticed during their meal how he had kept refilling her wineglass, but had never bothered with his.

  “How’s the head?”

  “Fine.” She pushed the wine away. “Are you trying to get me drunk?”

  He put the wine bottle on the breakfast bar. “I’m just getting you to lower your defenses.”

  “My defenses?” She snatched up her wineglass. “I wasn’t aware I had any of those.

  “You’ve got more than most women I deal with.”

  That made her put the wine back down. “What kind of women do you deal with?”

  “The kind who want to be dominated by me, not the kind who are terrified of me.”

  “If you think I feel that way, then why bother with me?”

  He stood from his stool. “Because you’re curious about my lifestyle … intrigued even. Still, you’re not convinced it’s for you. You need more research to make up your mind. That’s why I’m giving you lessons.” He picked up their plates and went around the bar to the sink.

  Eyeing the curve of his jeans over his ass, Sam asked, “These women you dominated … where did you find them?”

  “They found me.” He turned on the water in the sink. “A club I used to belong to in the city provided me with suitable women who were well-versed in the lifestyle.”

  “Is this the club where you met Nathan Cole?”

  He paused for a second or two, letting his hands linger under the flow of water. “Let’s just say I met a lot of like-minded businessmen there.”

  “Businessmen who are interested in dominating women?”

  He turned off the water and faced her. “That’s enough questions.”

  She snapped up her wineglass. “What? I don’t get to ask questions?”

  “No.” Coming around the bar, he took the wineglass. “I ask the questions, and you answer.”

  She sulked as she saw him put the wine on the countertop. “That doesn’t seem fair.”

  “Come with me.” He took her hand. “It’s time to begin your lessons.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  “No more talking.”

  She was tempted to come back with a pithy reply but bit her tongue. The deadly look in his eyes warned her not to push him.

  Doug led her to the sofa and sat her down. He removed a dark red men’s tie from his back pocket. Without any warning, he blindfolded her. Sam was about to raise her hands to her face when he stopped her.

  “Put your hands palms down on your thighs and don’t say a word.”

  Her senses came alive as she listened intently for his movements. She could make out his footfalls on the hardwood floor, heading toward the kitchen.

  He’s going to torture me with kitchen utensils. Wonderful.

  By the time he came back to the sofa, Sam was regretting her decision to go along with Doug’s lessons. What if she didn’t like what he did to her? Then again, what if she did?

  His weight pressed down on the cushion next to her. Something brushed along her right forearm. It didn’t feel sharp like a knife or hard like a spoon. His fingertips perhaps?

  “The relationship between the submissive and the Dominant is about trust. We have to trust each othe
r implicitly. It’s never about pain, or abuse, because then there would be no trust.” His fingertips drifted down to her hand, drawing circles over the top of it. “I can touch my submissive anywhere, and she is never to pull away, or refuse me. I am everything to her.” The circles on her hand continued in a slow, methodical motion. “Imagine my fingertips gliding all over your body like this. Would you find that pleasurable or painful?”

  “Do you want me to answer that question?” she asked, confused. “Or am I still not supposed to speak?” He turned over her hand and began drawing circles in her palm. “Maybe you should tell me when—”

  “You talk too much. Just answer with yes or no, until I tell you otherwise.” He sounded grumpy.

  “Fine.” She paused. “What was the question again?”

  He snickered under his breath. “You’re adorable. Do you know that?”

  The circles he was drawing on her palm began to tingle.

  “Is this pleasurable to you?”

  His fingers lightly tracked up her wrist and a bolt of white heat shot up from her gut. “Ah, I guess so.”

  “You don’t sound convinced.” He drew his nail across her palm.

  She gulped. “Yes … that’s pleasurable.”

  “Tell me what else you find pleasurable, Sam. What did men do to you in the past that you liked?”

  The blush rose on her cheeks. “Umm.”

  “Don’t be ashamed of enjoying pleasure. If I’m to please you, I need to ask these questions. So what have you enjoyed?”

  “Kissing,” came out first. “And I guess, I liked being caressed.”

  His nail ran up her forearm. “Where? Be specific.”

  Where? I don’t know where. Say something. Make it sound sexy. “My breasts,” she finally blurted out.

  His hands went to her thighs. “Did you like it when a man tasted your nipples?”

  She swallowed hard. “Yes.”

  His hands brushed over the fabric of her jeans. “What about biting?”

  Her panties were getting wet. “Yes.”

  He reached in-between her thighs, pushing them apart. “What about when a man performed oral sex on you? Did you like that?”

  Sam tensed. She wanted to rip the blindfold from her eyes and get away, but his hands were firmly holding her legs open.

  “Answer the question.”

  She took in a rattled breath. “I’ve, ah, never experienced that,” she confided.

  “Never?” The surprise in his voice was evident. “Why not?”

  Her nerves pushed to the breaking point, Sam reached for the blindfold. “Okay, enough of this.”

  He grabbed her hands. “I didn’t tell you to stop.”

  She ripped the blindfold away. “I’m stopping it.” Sam expected to see him glowering at her; instead, she was greeted by a playful smirk. “What’s so funny?”

  He sat back on the sofa. “You’re a very uptight woman, Sam Woods.”

  She stood up. “If you had somebody asking you all of those personal questions, you’d be uptight, too.”

  “We’re not finished here.” His arms went around her and before she could stop him, he had her pinned to the sofa. “Time for another approach.” And then … he kissed her.

  The touch of his lips was so unexpected, Sam became completely incapacitated. She had been kissed before, but never like this. His lips were teasing her, urging her to give in to him. Sam wanted to cave, to surrender to Doug’s embrace, and for a moment she did. She kissed him back, opening her mouth, allowing him to delve deeper. As his arms tightened around her, the trickle of desire in her belly turned into a raging torrent. Then, her ever-present inner voice reawakened, reminding her this was not a good idea.

  But it was Doug who pulled away first. “So you can hand yourself over to passion.”

  She tried to wiggle out from under him. “You just surprised me.”

  He held her to him, not letting go. “Keep telling yourself that, Sam. I know better. I felt it in your kiss.”

  “Was kissing me part of the lesson?”

  He let her go. “Tomorrow night, we’ll try again.”

  She stood from the sofa. “Tomorrow night? You must be crazy.”

  He rose to his feet, his eyes once again hard and cruel. “If you’re going to trust me, there are some barriers that need to be torn down. The physical distance between us is one. Kissing you was a way to speed up the process.”

  “What are you going to do tomorrow night, rape me?”

  He straightened out his shirtsleeves. “I never take a woman who doesn’t want me.”

  “Well, I don’t want you.”

  “That’s not what your kiss told me.”

  Sam wanted to lash out, tell him to never come back, but secretly she wanted to kiss him again. It had been the best kiss of her life.

  Doug moved away, heading for her front door. “Expect me around seven.”

  “Don’t bother coming back,” she called across the room.

  His hand on her doorknob, Doug turned to her. “Tell me you don’t want more, and I will never see you again.”

  Sam opened her mouth to tell him to go to hell, but the words got caught in her throat.

  “That’s what I thought.” He opened the door. “I’ll make sure to bring more wine tomorrow night.” He stepped into the hall and then glared at her. “Lock this behind me.”

  After he shut the door, Sam scurried across the room. When her lock clicked, she saw his shadow move away from beneath the door. Leaning against the wall, she slowly sank to the floor, utterly drained. This was not good. It was the beginning of something dangerous and stupid, and … she giggled. Sam couldn’t wait to do more.

  A few minutes after seven, Sam was pacing the floorboards of her living room. She had rushed home from work and quickly changed into a pair of jeans and a loose fitting T-shirt. In her bathroom, as she had been checking her reflection, she itched to put on makeup and then remembered Doug’s feelings on the subject. Best to face him with just mascara and a bit of gloss; understated and simple.

  All day at work, Sam had thought about Doug and that kiss. She had analyzed it, deconstructed it, and relived it, but she could never make sense of it. If his kiss was any indication of the lessons to come, Sam had no choice but to be his willing student.

  Walking from the bathroom, she was hit by a sudden chill.

  “Not now,” she muttered.

  Her senses reached into the cold and instantly picked up on the female presence. In the corner of her bedroom the white mist returned, rising up like a funnel, while a shape tried to form inside of it.

  She waved at the unfinished form. “Can’t we do this another time?” A knock at the front door made her jump. “Here I am talking to ghosts and jumping when a man knocks on my door. I should have my head examined.”

  Ignoring the mist, Sam barged through her bedroom door. Trotting across the hardwood floor, she reached for her front doorknob.

  “Why wasn’t your door locked?” Doug scolded as soon as he saw her.

  Still wearing his slightly rumpled blue suit, he held an open bottle of white wine in his hand.

  “I knew you were coming over, so I didn’t lock the door.”

  He came inside, scowling. “From now on, always keep your door locked.”

  “Why are you so obsessed with me locking my door?”

  Doug brushed past her. “Because I can’t have anything happening to you.”

  Shutting the door, she whispered, “Yes, sir.”

  He stopped behind her. “I heard that. If you know what’s good for you, you won’t do it again.”

  The anger in his voice was unexpected. By the time she turned to confront him, he was already in her kitchen, searching her cabinets.

  Approaching the bar, Sam curiously noted his hurried movements, and the way his suit clung to his muscular frame.

  Retrieving a single wineglass from her cabinet, he filled it with the pale yellow wine. “I want you to drink this.”

>   She eased around the bar. “What about you?”

  “I don’t need it. You do.” He held up the glass to her. “Drink it all down.”

  “You want me to chug the wine?”

  He shoved the glass at her. “Yes. It will help relax you.”

  She took the glass from him. “Why do I need to relax?”

  “Because I can’t fuck you to get you to relax, so this is the next best thing.”

  After bobbing the glass in her trembling hands, Sam quickly drank back the wine.

  After she emptied the wineglass, he refilled it. “Tonight, we’re going to see how you do with being tied up.”

  “Are you going to hang me from the ceiling?”

  “No.” He set the wine bottle on the countertop. “I promise it will not be anything you can’t handle.”

  “Why do you want to tie me up? What purpose can that serve?”

  “It serves my purpose.” He pointed to the glass in her hands. “Now drink.”

  While he removed the yellow tie from around his neck, she eased back a few more gulps. Taking the glass from her, he pointed to the hallway that led to her bedroom. “In there. I want you on the bed.”

  With butterflies swarming in her stomach, Sam headed for her bedroom. At the door, she glanced back at him.

  “Go and sit on the bed,” he directed

  “Just sit?”

  “Why? What else did you have in mind?”

  She ignored him and kicked off her tennis shoes. Sitting down on the bed, she placed her hands in her lap and kept her eyes on the floor, afraid to look at him.

  “This is an exercise to see how well you follow instructions.” His blue suit jacket landed on the bed next to her. “If you can’t follow my instructions, I will punish you.” He lifted her hands. “Hold them up.”

  Sam’s stomach twisted as he cinched the yellow tie around her wrists, tightly binding them together. “Lie back. Close your eyes.”

  Closing her eyes, the trickle of excitement she had felt since meeting him at the door began to skyrocket out of control.

  The bed sank next to her and she could hear the rustle of his clothing close to her ear. “You are to lie perfectly still. No matter what I do, you can’t move. Do you understand?”