“Thank you.” She took out her purse. “What do I owe you?”
“Nothing. My treat.” He couldn’t believe she thought he would let her pay for it.
“I can’t let you do that. It’s too much.”
“Let me do this one thing for you.”
She nibbled on her bottom lip, and he clenched his fist, because he remembered her doing that when they were together before and it was damn near the sexiest thing he’d ever seen.
“I don’t know,” she said. “It doesn’t feel right.”
“In that case, why don’t you make it up to me by inviting me over and cooking me dinner?” He didn’t know where that had come from. It was very high-handed and forward, but he discovered he wasn’t at all sorry he’d said it. For some reason, seeing her again brought to mind all the reasons why he’d wanted to be with her in the first place, and he couldn’t remember why he’d broken things off. Or maybe they just didn’t seem all that important at the moment.
Her head shot up. “What?”
“I could help you with the puzzle.”
Except she might not want his help. Hell, she might not want him, period. Or to have anything to do with him. He wasn’t sure why he wanted to be with her so badly, as it wasn’t a good idea. He knew that she would say no and he’d go home. Back to his quiet apartment with the lovely view. The evening would drag by. Even more so because the only things he’d looked forward to lately were his online chats, but he didn’t have one scheduled with Faye.
“Okay,” she said, so quietly he wasn’t sure he’d heard her.
“Yes?” he asked, just to make sure.
She wiped her nose and pulled herself together. “Yes. I’m at Nathaniel and Abby’s penthouse. You can come over tonight for dinner if that works. Seven?”
“That would work wonderfully.” He tapped the top of the box. “I’ll leave this with you, and after we eat, I’ll show you my mad puzzle skills.”
That actually got a half laugh out of her. “No, I don’t think so. After we eat, I’ll show you a thing or two about putting a puzzle together.”
“Deal.” He stood, silently watching her for a second longer than necessary, and then, before he did something he knew he’d regret, he told her he’d see her later, and left the shop.
As he walked outside, he asked himself what the hell he was thinking. Why would he practically throw himself at Lynne when nothing good could come from it? He knew he was no good for her, Nathaniel had already threatened him, and he had a kinda, sorta, maybe relationship with Faye.
The best thing he could do was turn around, go back into the shop, and tell Lynne he was sorry, but dinner and puzzles were a bad idea. But to do that would upset her and he couldn’t take that risk. No, the best thing he could do was to go to the penthouse for dinner, be a friend, not think about the sexy way her teeth bit ever so lightly into her lip, and tell Faye he’d had dinner with an old friend. Yes, that was the plan and he was sticking to it.
• • •
As it turned out, his plan lasted for about ten minutes after Lynne let him inside the penthouse. He’d brought a bottle of wine over and followed her into the kitchen when she went to get two glasses and the corkscrew.
Everything would have been fine except they both reached for the corkscrew at the same time, and when their hands touched, they both let go of it. Lynne flushed that lovely pink shade he appreciated and bent down to pick it up. Unfortunately, she accidentally kicked it and it rolled under the island in the middle of the kitchen.
Simon watched in stunned silence as she crawled across the floor to get it. Not because her ass looked so fine, though it did, but because her shirt hitched upward, revealing bullwhip marks across her back.
She was completely unaware as she grabbed the corkscrew and hopped up with a joyous “Got it!”
Her smile turned into a frown when she saw his expression. “Simon? What’s wrong?”
He was being ridiculous. He knew it. And yet he still couldn’t stop it. Something inside him morphed into a possessive caveman who thought if anyone was going to take a bullwhip to that delectable flesh, it should have been him.
And though he knew he was being ridiculous, and he knew it wasn’t any of his business, he couldn’t stop himself from asking, “Who did that to your back?”
Her face went so pale, for a moment he thought she was going to pass out on him. But no sooner had he blinked than she drew herself up and her cheeks flushed pink. “What’s it to you?”
“What?” He took a step back. This confrontational Lynne was different and unexpected. And hot.
“I said, what’s it to you? You made the assumption I wasn’t a submissive. Well, guess what. You were wrong. And that means if I have to find someone else to give me what I need, it’s none of your business.”
“I know. I’m sorry. It’s just, I wasn’t expecting that.” And that was the understatement of the year. He gave her a small smile. “Forgive me?”
She appeared calmer, but only a little.
“Apology accepted.” She turned back to the countertop. “Besides, the Dom I was with today said he thought I might be a masochist. You probably couldn’t give me what I need anyway.”
He caught himself before he dropped the wineglass he held. “You’re a masochist?” It couldn’t possibly be true. Not Lynne. No way.
She peeked over her shoulder and looked uncertain for the first time. “I don’t know. Maybe?”
He shouldn’t be the one she had this conversation with. There was no way he could even pretend to be neutral. Fucking hell. What if she was and he’d let her go? But no, he couldn’t allow himself to think that way.
“I suggest you talk with Abby,” he finally said. “She’s not a masochist, but I’m sure she could put you in contact with a few people who are.”
Lynne nodded.
“Can I see your back?” he asked. “Just out of curiosity.”
And because he wanted to make sure the Dom she was with knew what he was doing. He told himself it was just part of who he was, that he would do the same with any submissive he knew. And he might, but he’d have been fooling himself to think that it didn’t go further than that with Lynne.
“Umm.” She looked like she was going to say no. “Sure. Just a second.”
She put the wine bottle down and turned toward him. The flush still slightly stained her cheeks, and she looked adorably unsure. “Here in the kitchen?”
“This will be fine.”
She faced the countertop, away from him, and took the shirt up and off. Instead of letting it drop to the floor, she held it tight in her fist and bent, just a bit at the waist. Her hands rested on the marble.
He was surprised at the obvious expertise exhibited by the Dom she’d played with. The marks were even and well placed. He traced one line with his fingertip, and under his touch, she sucked in a breath.
He shouldn’t have touched her. Just the feel of her soft skin made him want her. He wanted her so badly, everything else fell away. All the reasons why he shouldn’t be with her. All the reasons he’d recited to himself in the weeks following their split. Nothing. They were gone. The only thing left was Lynne, and she was under his touch for the moment, no matter how briefly.
She sighed, a dreamy, earthy sound that had him tracing another whip line just to see if he could get her to repeat that sigh. When he did, he lowered his head, desperate to taste her, to entice more sounds of pleasure.
Her phone rang, and she shot up, almost hitting him in the chin. “That’s Nathaniel and Abby’s ringtone.”
Nathaniel. Shit.
“He
doesn’t have a hidden camera in here, does he?” He asked it like a joke, but he was halfway serious, too.
“Not that I know of.” She grabbed her phone and answered. “Hello?”
Simon took the opportunity to get himself under control and