by M. S. Parker
My jaw dropped as I watched him balance all three plates and carry them to a small table I hadn't noticed before.
“I only use the dining room when there's more than a couple people here, or it's something formal.” He set down the plates. “Please, sit. The drinks are all here too.”
I walked over to where he stood and took a seat. He waited until he'd poured me a small glass of orange juice and a cup of coffee before he joined me.
“You wanted to talk?” I asked
“Eat first.” He pointed at my plate. “Then we'll talk.”
I expected the silence between us to be awkward, especially considering all that had happened in the past few hours, but it wasn't really. In fact, it was quite nice to sit and relax. Eating nice and slow, no rush with somewhere to be, no pressure to have to maintain a conversation or pretend like things were normal or that I was tough. I could just be and he was okay with it.
When we finished, however, I began to get nervous. One of the reasons I dressed the way I did was because I used my appearance as a shield, a protection from people. I still had the tattoos, piercings and hair, but dressed this way, I didn't feel the same.
He drained the last of his coffee and turned his chair so that it was angled toward me. I hadn't thought anything of it when he'd sat next to me instead of across from me, but now I realized he was closer than I thought. His knee brushed mine and a warmth spread through me from the point of contact. If that happened through two layers of clothes, I suspected I might combust if he did anything else. There was a tension between us that hadn't been there before.
“These last few weeks,” he began. “Working with you. Talking to you. Watching you with the others at the office.” His lips twitched. “With Christophe in particular.”
I pressed my hands together, forcing myself not to think of all the different ways this conversation could go.
“It's forced me to admit something I'd been trying to deny.” He leaned toward me, but didn't try to touch me. “Then last night, seeing you so... seeing how hurt you were, knowing someone had caused you so much pain...” His hands curled into fists. “I hate it. I hate that anyone could hurt another human being, but you...” He shook his head. “It tears me up that I can't protect you from your past.”
My heart did a funny skipping thing and it was getting hard to breathe. Not like before. This was different. Part of me wanted to tell him to stop right there, that I didn't want to hear what was coming next, but another part wanted to beg him to continue. It didn't matter what my internal debates were, however. He kept going.
“I care about you, Jenna.” He covered my hands with his. “I want to be with you.”
Chapter Fifteen
I was already starting to shake my head before he'd even finished saying it. This had to be a trick. A lie. A joke. A misunderstanding. Anything but the truth.
“You can't, Rylan,” I said as soon as he paused. “I mean, the sex was good, but–”
“You think that's all I care about?” His fingers curled around mine and I couldn't deny the way the words and his gesture made my stomach twist. “I don't want to sleep with you.” He grinned, his gaze heating up. “That's not true. I do want to sleep with you, but that's not all I want. And if I have to keep my hands to myself to gain your trust, then that's what I'll do.”
I swallowed hard, my eyes dropping. Any other man, I would've called bullshit and maybe even given him a slap for good measure, but Rylan wasn't just some random man. He'd proven it more than once.
“Look at me, Jenna.” His voice was gentle.
I looked up and found my gaze captured by his. It was open and frank, letting me see everything he was feeling, thinking. I was drawn to what I saw there. He meant what he said. There was desire and heat, but it was tempered by tenderness and something that sent a thrill of fear through me. When he'd said he cared about me, I'd tried telling myself that he'd meant it as a friend and employee... just one with non-traditional benefits. What I saw there now, however, told me that when he said he cared, he meant that what he felt for me could become something more, something that terrified me.
“I know it's probably not a good idea, with you working for me and all, but I tried to just see you as an employee and it was killing me.”
I had to tell him that work was the last on a long list of reasons why this was a bad idea. He didn't understand what he was asking for and as much as my heart begged me to take this chance, I couldn't do that to him. He deserved so much better.
“Rylan, when I said last night that I was broken, it wasn't just the panic attack talking.”
He got out of his chair and knelt next to me. I had to look down now to meet his eyes. He reached up and cupped the side of my face. “Please, Jenna. If there's any chance you feel anything for me...”
“I...” How was I supposed to think clearly when he was touching me? “I don't know if I can, Rylan.”
“Let's start with full disclosure, then.”
Panic flared as he stood and held out a hand. I’d already shared more to him that I have shared with anyone for a long time.
“From me,” he clarified, his voice gentle. “There are some things about me that you need to know to make an… informed decision. Let me show you the rest of the house.”
The anxiety inside me lessened when I realized he wasn't going to ask me to talk about my past. I slid my hand into his, trying to ignore the tingles of warmth that went through me. I didn't know what I would do, or even what I wanted to do about him, but I was going with him now. I wasn't entirely sure why, only that I couldn't find it in me to put a stop to this now.
After first touring the bottom part of the house, we walked back up the steps and kept going until we past the room where I'd slept last night.
“Will you promise to hear me out? No matter what you think about what I'm going to tell you?”
Now I was curious. “I promise.” After all he'd done for me last night, listening was the least I could do.
“When we slept together, it was great,” he began. “But it wasn't the way I usually do things.” I kept glancing into the many bedrooms as we passed them, one more luxurious than the other until finally we stopped in front of the last door on the right-hand side of the hall. “I tend to be a little... less than vanilla.”
My eyes widened. Of all the things I'd expected out of him, that hadn't been it. Nothing about him had hinted to me that he was a bit kinky. Now, just how kinky remained to be seen. I wasn't exactly vanilla either. My stomach twisted at the thought of being able to share that part of me with Rylan. Then it twisted again – and not in a good way – as I thought about some of the things he might want to do.
He hesitated in front of the closed bedroom door and turned. “Well, that’s it. Let’s go back to the kitchen.”
He began to walk back the hallway but when I didn’t move, he paused.
“What’s behind this door?” I asked curiously.
Rylan took a deep breath and looked almost nervous. “This is – well, this is my playroom.” He gave me a grin, but I could see that there was some worry in that smile. He opened the door and stepped back to give me a look inside.
I stepped inside and felt him right behind me. I didn't look at him though. I was too busy staring at everything around me. The room itself wasn't red or black or any of those kinds of colors most people would associate with the room's contents. Instead, the walls were a light brown with a warm brown trim, the kind of color scheme that would've looked perfect in a living room or bedroom. In fact, it matched most of the other décor I'd seen in the house. This wasn't just a regular room though, even though there was a giant bed at the far wall.
That bed, however, had intricately crafted tall metal posts at each corner of the bed, the top two attached to the equally elaborate headboard. From where I was standing, I could see leather cuffs at the base of the bottom two posts and assumed there would be matching ones at the top. My blood ran cold. I knew what those were for.
>
Lining the walls on either side of the bed were chests of drawers. I didn't need someone to tell me that those drawers didn't hold clothes. At least not like the ones I was wearing. Hanging on the wall to my right were a row of floggers, crops and paddles. On my left was a wooden X with leather cuffs at the top and bottom. I looked up. The ceiling was a bit higher here than the other rooms and in the center of the room were a set of chains. I knew if I followed them back down, I'd see a winch or something similar that would control how they would be lowered and raised.
I focused on my breathing, willing myself to stay calm. These things weren't the enemy. They weren't bad, just like my little kinks weren't bad.
“Most people don't understand this.” Rylan stepped up beside me and I noticed he was being careful not to touch me. “They think of S&M as being something with leather and chains and whips.”
I glanced over at him and then gave a meaningful look to the chains overhead. Sarcasm and attitude were two of my most often used defense mechanisms.
“You know what I mean.” A smile played around his lips and I could see a bit of relief in his eyes that I hadn't run away screaming. “The average person believes that BDSM is about pain and humiliation, but it's not.” He turned toward me, an urgency on his face. Without him saying it, I knew he was asking me to understand. “It's about trust.”
I swallowed hard. It was easier to breathe when I looked at him, but there was still that fear creeping up my spine. In this room were all sorts of things that triggered the darkest of memories. I focused on him, on what he was saying.
“It's about trusting your partner to say when they've had enough or trusting them to stop when you say the word. It's about giving and taking control. Letting someone take care of you, to know you so well that they know what you need even more than you do.”
A shiver ran through me as his words caressed my skin. His voice was even more sensual than I remembered.
“The heightened pleasures of the senses brought about by selection and denial.” He took a step toward me, closing the distance without bringing us into contact. “The intensity of just the right amount of pain with your pleasure.”
That one, I understood, and I wondered how much better things would be with someone who knew what he was doing. I'd never considered the BDSM lifestyle, despite liking things a bit rough. The bondage part of it scared the shit out of me and I never wanted to tell anyone why. Rylan, however, already knew that there were issues in my past. He could understand.
“There are safe words, negotiations. Things that can or cannot be done. Rules and guidelines that are always respected.” His finger ghosted across my cheek and my skin hummed under the faintest of touches. “If you would let me I could teach you pleasures of this world that you never thought possible. Some would even say… forbidden pleasures.” He hesitated for a moment then he looked straight at me, our eyes locked together. “Let me prove to you that you can trust me.”
For a moment, all was silence. We stood there, our bodies a mere inch or two apart. I could see that he was telling the truth, that he wanted me to be a part of this, not to dominate me or hurt me, not because he wanted to control me or degrade me. He believed every word of what he'd said.
I just wasn't sure how I felt about it.
He gestured toward the door and we walked back into the hallway without saying a word. He closed the door behind us and we walked back down to the guest room where I'd stayed last night.
“Get your things together,” he said. “I'll have my driver take you home. Take the day. Rest. Think about what I said.” His expression was serious. “And if you decide this isn't what you want, it will be business as usual between us at work. No matter what, I don't want to lose you as my employee. You're far too valuable.”
“Ah,” I said, trying to lighten the mood. “I'm a valuable employee. Good to know.” I started to smile.
“Jenna.”
The way he said my name was so full of emotion that it stopped my smile immediately. I'd never heard anyone say it like that.
“I want you to be so much more than that.”
He took my face between his hands and lowered his head. He kissed me fiercely, possessively. His tongue pushed between my lips, exploring my mouth as if he was trying to memorize it. His teeth scraped across my bottom lip before he sucked it into his mouth. I made a sound in the back of my throat. Fuck, I liked that. Then he released my lip and devoured my mouth again. There was an intensity radiating off of him, desire so strong that it almost hurt. He pulled away first, his eyes blazing.
“Get your things together. I'll meet you downstairs.”
My head was still spinning as I went into the room and gathered my clothes and my purse. It wasn't until I was heading for the stairs that I realized I didn't know where my shoes were, but then I came downstairs and saw Rylan holding them. He handed them over and I put them on, neither of us saying anything. I knew I didn't have a clue of what I should say, and I had a feeling he didn't know either.
The car that pulled up was a nice town car, nothing so flashy that people would stare, but definitely nicer than a cab. Rylan opened the back door for me, then put his hand over mine when I went to climb in. We looked at each other for a moment and then I looked away. I slid into the back seat, sighing as Rylan shut the door. I still felt physically rested, but my emotions were a mess.
The car was quiet as it headed back into the city and we were almost to my apartment building when it hit me, what I'd been feeling from Rylan when he'd kissed me. I hadn't been able to place it then because I'd been too busy trying to process my own feelings about what had happened. Now, even though I still had no clue how I felt about the events of the past twenty-four hours, I was able to recognize the look in his eyes, the desperation in his touch.
It had been a good-bye kiss. The kind of kiss someone gave before going off to war or some equally dangerous venture. One that carried with it all of the pent-up desires and the anguish over the possibility of never seeing each other again. He'd kissed me because he didn't know what my choice would be and if he'd ever have the chance to kiss me again.
I touched my fingers to my lips. I could still feel his mouth lingering there, taste the cinnamon he'd had in his coffee. If that had been our last kiss, he'd made it a good one.
Now it was up to me to decide if I wanted more.
Chapter Sixteen
I couldn't take being here anymore. I'd spent the good part of the afternoon pacing around my apartment, unable to concentrate. My head kept telling me that it wasn't worth the risk to see if there was anything to Rylan's offer. That the reactions my heart and body were having were only because we'd had great sex together and I hadn't gotten laid since. I liked that explanation since it meant that everything about me and my world would stay the same. I wasn't changing.
Finally, I decided there was one way to take care of this once and for all. I'd go out and hook up with some random guy. I'd get off and that would be the end of it. No sexual tension mucking things up. I’d be able to think clearly and offer Rylan several honest and logical reasons as to why we shouldn't try to have a relationship, not the least of which would be that sex wasn't emotional for me. It was physical. Only physical.
I needed a reminder of that.
I didn't bother showering again, but I did change my clothes. The ones from Rylan were comfortable, but not exactly conducive to hooking up. Sure, I could probably find someone who wouldn't care about what I was wearing, but I didn't want to work for it right now. I wasn't in the mood for a hunt. I wanted to fuck and get my head cleared.
It was November, so even though the weather had been mild, I still had to dress warmly if I wanted to walk. I went with an ankle-length black skirt made of a flowing material I liked and a long-sleeved, off shoulder matching shirt. It was clingy, so it showed off my curves, and the low cut neckline revealed a good deal of cleavage. I finished things off with knee-high leather boots, did my make-up and headed out.
; I felt better now that I was back in my own attire, but I had to admit that I did miss the comfortable clothes I'd been wearing. Mostly the smell. They'd carried with them the scent of Rylan's house and his detergent. It hadn't been quite the same as him, but it had been close. Not exactly what I wanted when I was trying to hook up with someone else.
As I stepped into the restaurant of the Marriott Hotel, I pushed thoughts of Rylan aside. The whole point of this excursion was to forget about him. I didn't usually come here, but I wanted to make sure I'd never see this guy again. A man on a business trip would be perfect. And I wanted someone older than my usual college fare.
I scanned the nearly-empty room. It was about four o'clock, which meant most people weren't coming in for dinner or drinks just yet. There were a couple of people at the bar though, including one that looked promising. He looked like he was in his late twenties or early thirties, probably a year or two older than Rylan. Sandy-colored hair and a ruggedly handsome face. I couldn't tell how tall he was, but he had broad shoulders and looked fit enough.
I smiled and walked toward him. He turned when I was just a few steps away and gave me a once over. When his eyes lit up, I knew this wasn't going to be hard at all. Less than ten minutes later, we'd exchanged first names – his was Daniel – and we were going into his hotel room. Daniel didn't offer much by the way of personal information, but I was fine with that. In fact, I preferred it. I wasn't looking to get to know him.
He tasted like scotch when he kissed me and I pulled away as soon as I could without insulting him. I pulled my shirt off and tossed my bra onto the floor next to it. The boots went next and I felt Daniel's eyes on me when I bent to pull them off. When I straightened, he was already stripped down to nothing. He was about average build and his cock looked like it'd be the same once he was fully erect.