Breaking Free
Page 16
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“Oh. Um, thank you. And you’re waiting for me because…”
As he moved closer, she retreated until halted by her truck, her back against the door. Nolan braced an arm on each side of her head, trapping her. With pleasure, he noticed that the little rabbit didn’t look nearly as terrified today. More progress. He rewarded himself with a kiss, soft and wet and hot, only his mouth touching, since if his hands landed on her, he’d probably take her right there against the truck.
Drawing back, he smiled at her dazed eyes and wet lips and said, “Aside from needing to do that, I thought I would take you out for supper.”
“Supper?” Her hands were on his chest, and she snatched them off as if she’d committed some crime.
“Beth, I like your hands on me,” he said. “Put them back.” He waited until her delicate fingers curled over his shoulders. He recalled how pretty her wrists looked in cuffs, how she pulled at the restraints while he… Hell.
He cleared his throat. “Supper. You have to eat—and eat more than you’ve been doing, I might add—and I’m hungry. There’s an Italian place just down the road, one where we won’t look too out of place in work clothes.”
“Food.” Her mind was obviously not on that kind of hunger. The way she looked at his mouth then away, her hands stroking his muscles, the dilation of her pupils… She wanted him whether she knew it or not. His temperature shot up at least ten degrees. Just how fast would she run if he took her up on that unconscious invitation?
But he didn’t want her running; she was just beginning to trust him. A little.
“Yes, food.” He squeezed the nape of her neck. “You aren’t ready to be alone with me, so we’re going to go have supper. Now.” Before he ripped off her shorts and buried himself inside her so deep and hard that she wouldn’t walk for a week.
As if she could hear him, her blue-green eyes widened, and she swallowed. “All right.” Her voice came out husky, reminding him of how it sounded after she’d come.
He moved her away from her truck, pushed her in front of him, and swatted her trim little ass to keep her moving. “Good. My truck is over there.”
* * * * *
As they were led to a table at the Italian place, Beth noticed the enthusiastic greetings Nolan received from several waitresses. He obviously came here often, and no woman would easily forget him.
He held Beth’s chair, then took a seat across from her. She could see what the waitresses saw. A formidable man. His blue work shirt didn’t disguise the powerful muscles underneath, and the top buttons were open revealing his corded neck. The man simply radiated force, his bearing supremely self-confident. Many of the Doms changed when outside of the scene, away from their club. Not him. This was not a good old boy, but a forceful, dangerous man.
Her heart missed a beat when his gaze met hers. He smiled slowly. “Relax, sugar, there’s no bar top here to decorate.”
She flushed from her toes to her face. Was this what a hot flash would feel like in twenty years? God.
The waitress handed them menus, managing to touch Sir’s hand as she did. Beth’s teeth clamped together as unexpected jealousy snapped through her like a rubber band.
They ordered. He frowned and added a side dish to hers. As the waitress bustled away, he leaned back and studied Beth. “I know you run a yard service. What kind of work does that entail?”
She looked into his face, amazed to see real interest. Oh, he really shouldn’t leave himself open that way. She launched into a description of maintenance, of weeding and mowing and trimming, of planning and design. Rather than looking bored, he asked another question. And another. Their salads came, and she dug in, actually hungry for a change.
“Where did you learn all that? From college?” he asked.
“No, my father ran a nursery with a landscaping service, and I’d help around the place and go out with the men. Someday I want to start my own nursery.” She confessed her dream before thinking, and then tensed, expecting him to sneer.
His eyes narrowed, but he answered easily, “Sounds like you’d be good at it. Jessica could probably help you with planning how to finance it and the paperwork. She knows all the ins and outs of small business accounting.”
Something relaxed inside her. He hadn’t laughed. Had even suggested…Jessica? Beth shook her head in surprise. Why hadn’t she thought about asking Jessica for help?
She felt a tremor of excitement as her dream began to leaf out. “That’s a great idea. Thank you.”
She worked on her salad, nibbled a pepper, and studied him in turn. An uneasy feeling ran through her. This man had been inside her, had done incredibly intimate things to her, and she didn’t know him at all. Her face warmed as she cleared her throat. “What about you? What do you do?”
He’d already finished his salad. He pushed the plate off to one side and refilled their wine glasses. “I’m a contractor. Construction.”
No wonder he was so muscular. Her lips pursed. “The housing market’s dead. Are you doing all right?”
“I do mostly office buildings, and Tampa is growing nicely, despite the economy.” He grinned at her. “Like you, I followed in my father’s footsteps. He owns a construction company back in Texas.”
“I wondered where your accent came from. Why aren’t you still in Texas?”
“My wife had family back here, and she didn’t want to live too far from them. She talked me into moving here.”
The unexpected blow took her breath away. “You’re married?”
“No, sugar. I wouldn’t be playing in the club if I was married. I got a divorce about seven years ago. My wife cheated on me, and that was it.” His gaze landed on her, straight and level. “I despise liars, and I figure cheating is just another way of lying.”
This blow was almost worse. Her eyes dropped to her left hand where the white line from her wedding ring had slowly faded over the past year.
Their main course came, the lasagna bubbling in the stoneware dish, and yet the scent of the spicy sauce turned her stomach now. Cheating. Lying.
Had her husband cheated on her? Nolan watched the little sub’s face. All the animation had faded, and the sparkle in her blue-green eyes had dimmed. Her appetite had disappeared as well. Dammit. Some women ate when unhappy or stressed; Beth was obviously not one of them. He felt like pulling her onto his lap and telling her everything would be all right.
He’d enjoyed listening to her talk. Obviously competent at her job, overflowing with enthusiasm, her energy unleashed. A far cry from the wary little rabbit in the club. Seeing the difference in her increased his determination to help her heal… And maybe someday she’d bring all that enthusiasm to making love.
“I have a house in the country. A few acres on a small lake,” he said, toying with a piece of garlic bread. “The view is really pretty, but the entire acreage is weeds and stubble. I could use a designer…”
She lit up as if he’d handed her a dozen roses. “I’d love to give you some ideas. Maybe—”
He could see the moment she realized she’d have to visit his house. Be alone with him. Little rabbit. He gave an exasperated sigh. “Would you be interested if I arrange something so you won’t be alone with me?”
“I’m sorry, Sir.”
“Nolan, sugar.” He took her hand and rubbed her thin fingers, knowing now where the calluses had come from. “I answer to Nolan outside of the club.”
“So you don’t do the full master-slave routine?” Her fingers trembled for an instant.
“Take a bite and I’ll tell you.” He waited until she started on her untouched lasagna. “I had a slave for almost a year, but I uncollared her before I left for Iraq.”
Her fork stopped halfway to her mouth. He frowned at her until the bite disappeared. Her eyes were filled with questions she was too timid to ask.
“No, I’m not involved with anyone now. No, I don’t want a slave again.”
Relief, plain and simple, showed on her face, then confusion. “But why not? I thought all men liked that.”
“Some do. Maybe less than you’d think, at least after trying it.” He nodded at her food again and grinned when she rolled her eyes before taking a bite.
“Think about it, sugar. You’re not only responsible for your own well-being, but for someone else’s also. Making day-to-day decisions for them, all the time, without a break.” He lifted her fingers to his mouth, kissed them. “Now, I will never give up control in the bedroom and I occasionally enjoy control at other times…like making you wear the butterfly when taking you to a restaurant.” He gave her a wicked smile and could almost see the erotic images float into her head. When he nipped her finger, she flushed a gorgeous red.
“But the rest of the time, I’d prefer to have a partner, not a slave. Does that make sense?”
“Ah. Yes.” She was still pink.
He grinned and throttled it down. No sex today, whether she wanted it or not. Dammit.
* * * * *
Kyler glanced at his wristwatch and scowled. Almost 2:00 p.m. He couldn’t afford to wait any longer or he’d miss his plane.
As he moved closer, she retreated until halted by her truck, her back against the door. Nolan braced an arm on each side of her head, trapping her. With pleasure, he noticed that the little rabbit didn’t look nearly as terrified today. More progress. He rewarded himself with a kiss, soft and wet and hot, only his mouth touching, since if his hands landed on her, he’d probably take her right there against the truck.
Drawing back, he smiled at her dazed eyes and wet lips and said, “Aside from needing to do that, I thought I would take you out for supper.”
“Supper?” Her hands were on his chest, and she snatched them off as if she’d committed some crime.
“Beth, I like your hands on me,” he said. “Put them back.” He waited until her delicate fingers curled over his shoulders. He recalled how pretty her wrists looked in cuffs, how she pulled at the restraints while he… Hell.
He cleared his throat. “Supper. You have to eat—and eat more than you’ve been doing, I might add—and I’m hungry. There’s an Italian place just down the road, one where we won’t look too out of place in work clothes.”
“Food.” Her mind was obviously not on that kind of hunger. The way she looked at his mouth then away, her hands stroking his muscles, the dilation of her pupils… She wanted him whether she knew it or not. His temperature shot up at least ten degrees. Just how fast would she run if he took her up on that unconscious invitation?
But he didn’t want her running; she was just beginning to trust him. A little.
“Yes, food.” He squeezed the nape of her neck. “You aren’t ready to be alone with me, so we’re going to go have supper. Now.” Before he ripped off her shorts and buried himself inside her so deep and hard that she wouldn’t walk for a week.
As if she could hear him, her blue-green eyes widened, and she swallowed. “All right.” Her voice came out husky, reminding him of how it sounded after she’d come.
He moved her away from her truck, pushed her in front of him, and swatted her trim little ass to keep her moving. “Good. My truck is over there.”
* * * * *
As they were led to a table at the Italian place, Beth noticed the enthusiastic greetings Nolan received from several waitresses. He obviously came here often, and no woman would easily forget him.
He held Beth’s chair, then took a seat across from her. She could see what the waitresses saw. A formidable man. His blue work shirt didn’t disguise the powerful muscles underneath, and the top buttons were open revealing his corded neck. The man simply radiated force, his bearing supremely self-confident. Many of the Doms changed when outside of the scene, away from their club. Not him. This was not a good old boy, but a forceful, dangerous man.
Her heart missed a beat when his gaze met hers. He smiled slowly. “Relax, sugar, there’s no bar top here to decorate.”
She flushed from her toes to her face. Was this what a hot flash would feel like in twenty years? God.
The waitress handed them menus, managing to touch Sir’s hand as she did. Beth’s teeth clamped together as unexpected jealousy snapped through her like a rubber band.
They ordered. He frowned and added a side dish to hers. As the waitress bustled away, he leaned back and studied Beth. “I know you run a yard service. What kind of work does that entail?”
She looked into his face, amazed to see real interest. Oh, he really shouldn’t leave himself open that way. She launched into a description of maintenance, of weeding and mowing and trimming, of planning and design. Rather than looking bored, he asked another question. And another. Their salads came, and she dug in, actually hungry for a change.
“Where did you learn all that? From college?” he asked.
“No, my father ran a nursery with a landscaping service, and I’d help around the place and go out with the men. Someday I want to start my own nursery.” She confessed her dream before thinking, and then tensed, expecting him to sneer.
His eyes narrowed, but he answered easily, “Sounds like you’d be good at it. Jessica could probably help you with planning how to finance it and the paperwork. She knows all the ins and outs of small business accounting.”
Something relaxed inside her. He hadn’t laughed. Had even suggested…Jessica? Beth shook her head in surprise. Why hadn’t she thought about asking Jessica for help?
She felt a tremor of excitement as her dream began to leaf out. “That’s a great idea. Thank you.”
She worked on her salad, nibbled a pepper, and studied him in turn. An uneasy feeling ran through her. This man had been inside her, had done incredibly intimate things to her, and she didn’t know him at all. Her face warmed as she cleared her throat. “What about you? What do you do?”
He’d already finished his salad. He pushed the plate off to one side and refilled their wine glasses. “I’m a contractor. Construction.”
No wonder he was so muscular. Her lips pursed. “The housing market’s dead. Are you doing all right?”
“I do mostly office buildings, and Tampa is growing nicely, despite the economy.” He grinned at her. “Like you, I followed in my father’s footsteps. He owns a construction company back in Texas.”
“I wondered where your accent came from. Why aren’t you still in Texas?”
“My wife had family back here, and she didn’t want to live too far from them. She talked me into moving here.”
The unexpected blow took her breath away. “You’re married?”
“No, sugar. I wouldn’t be playing in the club if I was married. I got a divorce about seven years ago. My wife cheated on me, and that was it.” His gaze landed on her, straight and level. “I despise liars, and I figure cheating is just another way of lying.”
This blow was almost worse. Her eyes dropped to her left hand where the white line from her wedding ring had slowly faded over the past year.
Their main course came, the lasagna bubbling in the stoneware dish, and yet the scent of the spicy sauce turned her stomach now. Cheating. Lying.
Had her husband cheated on her? Nolan watched the little sub’s face. All the animation had faded, and the sparkle in her blue-green eyes had dimmed. Her appetite had disappeared as well. Dammit. Some women ate when unhappy or stressed; Beth was obviously not one of them. He felt like pulling her onto his lap and telling her everything would be all right.
He’d enjoyed listening to her talk. Obviously competent at her job, overflowing with enthusiasm, her energy unleashed. A far cry from the wary little rabbit in the club. Seeing the difference in her increased his determination to help her heal… And maybe someday she’d bring all that enthusiasm to making love.
“I have a house in the country. A few acres on a small lake,” he said, toying with a piece of garlic bread. “The view is really pretty, but the entire acreage is weeds and stubble. I could use a designer…”
She lit up as if he’d handed her a dozen roses. “I’d love to give you some ideas. Maybe—”
He could see the moment she realized she’d have to visit his house. Be alone with him. Little rabbit. He gave an exasperated sigh. “Would you be interested if I arrange something so you won’t be alone with me?”
“I’m sorry, Sir.”
“Nolan, sugar.” He took her hand and rubbed her thin fingers, knowing now where the calluses had come from. “I answer to Nolan outside of the club.”
“So you don’t do the full master-slave routine?” Her fingers trembled for an instant.
“Take a bite and I’ll tell you.” He waited until she started on her untouched lasagna. “I had a slave for almost a year, but I uncollared her before I left for Iraq.”
Her fork stopped halfway to her mouth. He frowned at her until the bite disappeared. Her eyes were filled with questions she was too timid to ask.
“No, I’m not involved with anyone now. No, I don’t want a slave again.”
Relief, plain and simple, showed on her face, then confusion. “But why not? I thought all men liked that.”
“Some do. Maybe less than you’d think, at least after trying it.” He nodded at her food again and grinned when she rolled her eyes before taking a bite.
“Think about it, sugar. You’re not only responsible for your own well-being, but for someone else’s also. Making day-to-day decisions for them, all the time, without a break.” He lifted her fingers to his mouth, kissed them. “Now, I will never give up control in the bedroom and I occasionally enjoy control at other times…like making you wear the butterfly when taking you to a restaurant.” He gave her a wicked smile and could almost see the erotic images float into her head. When he nipped her finger, she flushed a gorgeous red.
“But the rest of the time, I’d prefer to have a partner, not a slave. Does that make sense?”
“Ah. Yes.” She was still pink.
He grinned and throttled it down. No sex today, whether she wanted it or not. Dammit.
* * * * *
Kyler glanced at his wristwatch and scowled. Almost 2:00 p.m. He couldn’t afford to wait any longer or he’d miss his plane.