by Maya Banks
When she was with Lucas, she didn’t fear new situations. She knew with absolute certainty that he would take care of her, make sure she was comfortable and that any fears or nervousness she might experience would be soothed.
With Lucas, she felt confident and at peace both with herself and her role in his life.
Now she was going with Cole to meet his friends and the fact that she was on edge was pretty damn ridiculous. She’d even met Damon and his wife already, though not under the best of circumstances.
But she’d only been with Cole two days. She’d only been back in his life such a short time. Though she did trust him, she hadn’t yet reached the same level of confidence as she had with Lucas. No, Cole wouldn’t hurt her physically, but he’d hurt her emotionally. He’d devastated her and he had the power to do so again no matter how much she wished no man held such power over her.
And well, there was the fact that Cole had been intimate in varying degrees with both women who would be present. If that didn’t make things awkward, she didn’t know what would.
She put on a pink dress that fit her like a dream with just a little swish at her mid-thigh. Enough to make her feel a little sassy and the color set off the dramatic midnight black of her hair and her creamy skin tone.
The hot pink fuck-me shoes were the natural choice, but when put together with the dress, it made her feel like a tart. The Barbie shoes would wait for another night when she didn’t care one way or another what others thought of her.
Instead she went with strappy silver sandals with a clear heel and just enough bling to make her feet sparkle. What girl could resist sparkly shoes? If there was such a woman, it wasn’t her.
She brushed out her hair, applied pink lip gloss and then went in search of Cole. He was waiting at the bottom of the stairs and whistled appreciatively as she descended.
His smile brought back so many memories. He looked …happy. And younger. Much like the young man she’d known ten years ago. Only now he was much more larger than life, older, wiser and so damn gorgeous and confident that she went weak in the knees around him.
What would their lives be like now if he hadn’t walked away? Would they have stayed together? Would they be happy even now?
As she got to the last step, he reached up to take her hand and assist her down. He pulled her in close, breathed in the scent of her hair, just like he always used to do, and then he nudged her chin up so he could take her mouth.
And she said take, because that’s precisely what he did. He didn’t kiss her exactly, although that was what happened. But it was the way he kissed her. It was a reminder—a forceful, unmistakable reminder—of his possession. That he considered her his. But at the same time, it wasn’t a sterile, clinical gesture.
It was …sweet. Breathtaking.
Warmth spread through her veins until her pulse throbbed and her chest squeezed for air. All her lip gloss would be gone but she didn’t give a damn.
What woman didn’t want to be kissed this way? Tender. Yet strong, dominant, reassuring. That was the word she was trying to think of. Reassuring.
His touch held a wealth of reassurance. It told her I’ll never let anything touch you. I’ll take care of you. You’re mine.
When he pulled away, their gazes locked and he seemed content to simply stare at her. He touched her cheek with his finger and traced a gentle line over the contours of her face.
“You’re beautiful, Ren. You’ve always been beautiful but there is something mesmerizing about you now. Time has been very good to you. You look …content. Confident. And I can’t tell you how sexy I find confidence on a woman. You look like a woman with nothing to prove and it makes me want to possess you all the more.”
Her cheeks tightened with pleasure at the compliment but also at the sincerity that warmed his eyes. She self-consciously tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and he chuckled softly, tracing the path of her hand with his own.
“You always did do that when I complimented you. It’s still as adorable now as it was then.”
To cover the fact that she had no idea how to respond, she broke away and performed a sassy twirl and then held up her hands. “Do I look all right? Not going to embarrass you in front of your friends?”
He frowned and then caught her hand. “Never.”
He tucked her into his side and started for the front door. Parked outside was a steel gray Aston Martin. She lifted one eyebrow as he opened her door for her and she slid into the luxurious leather seat.
When Cole slid in next to her and started the engine, she quickly buckled herself but stared over as he pulled out of the drive.
“How did you make your fortune, Cole? Not that I ever doubted you wouldn’t become a success, but when we parted, you were still raising cash for your first business venture. At the time, no one wanted to deal with you because you were so young and you didn’t yet have a business degree. Did you ever finish school?”
Cole grinned, pulled out on the highway and gunned the engine. “Nope. You better than anyone knows that school frustrated me. I didn’t like the regimen, the discipline and above all the patience. I never subscribed to the whole do A and then B and eventually get a job doing C.”
She sighed. “Unlike me, who craved the routines and schedules and the comfort of knowing I’d be employable after graduation. Even if I did never end up using my degree. So you made it all on your own?”
“I bought into a partnership because I was never able to raise enough capital to go out on my own. After two years, I bought out my partners, spent another year streamlining the business until it was turning a healthy profit and then I sold it for a very nice sum of money. Enough to live on and begin a new venture.”
“And what do you like to venture in?” she asked.
“Damon and I partner on a lot of projects now. I have a keen interest in timber, chips and bio fuels.”
She wrinkled her nose. “It all sounds like Greek to me. You invest in potato chips?”
He laughed and reached over to tug at her hair. “No, smartass. Wood chips. To make paper out of. I supply paper mills with chips. I also own a sawmill and am partnered with Damon on another. But I also fund a lot of development and I turn over real estate.”
“So you’re in the business of making money,” she teased.
Cole snorted. “Aren’t we all?”
She shrugged. “I suppose. I guess you’re just particularly good at it.”
He nodded and didn’t offer any false modesty, which she found even more drool-worthy. She hated a man who didn’t own his success. Or made silly excuses or blamed luck. Cole knew he was good. He may not walk around bragging about it but he wasn’t about to not take credit for it either.
“So tell me something,” she said after clearing her throat. “About tonight.”
He turned to quickly glance at her, one eyebrow lifted. “You aren’t worried about tonight, are you? We don’t have to go. Just say the word. I’ll arrange for us to have a nice dinner together just you and I.”
She smiled, touched by his concern. “No, that isn’t what I mean. I’m just wondering how this is supposed to play out. I mean, am I going as your …” She formed the word carefully, not wanting to sound offended or like she thought he was being disrespectful to her. “…submissive. I mean, I know you said both Damon and Micah are like these big dominant males with women who are completely submissive to them, and I just wasn’t sure what my role is tonight. I just don’t want to embarrass you or do or say the wrong thing.”
To her utter shock, his expression went grim and then he swerved onto the shoulder before pulling to an abrupt halt. Then he turned in the seat to face her.
“What you are, is someone very important to me. These are my friends. Very good friends. It’s no different than any other group of friends who get together and have dinner, have a few drinks, laugh and have good conversation. Yes, Serena and Angelina are submissive. They also happen to be very much in love with their husbands, and conv
ersely they are adored beyond reason by their men. If you want to know if they know anything about our relationship, the answer is no. However, they are well acquainted with my proclivities, if that word doesn’t offend you, so they are very likely to guess or at least speculate on your role in my life.”
“I’m sorry,” she offered softly. “I’m still just a bit off kilter with all of this. Three days ago I was with a completely different man. A whole different set of rules. You have to know, this isn’t typical of me. I prefer long-standing, intimate relationships with a foundation of trust. I’m not into bed hopping or partnering up on a whim. I’m still a little bewildered by how quickly I became the property of another man.”
He touched her chin, forcing her gaze back upward. “Not just another man, Ren. Me. There’s a difference. You were mine first. And don’t apologize for wanting information before walking into a new situation. I should have done a better job of explaining it to you. I’d never ever want you to feel uncomfortable, embarrassed or uneasy. I’m not some asshole who has to flash around his submissive on a leash in order to prove I’m some kind of man. I don’t need those kinds of statements in order for the world to know you’re mine. The only people who need to know it are you and me. Everyone else? I could give a fuck about.”
She smiled because now more than ever he sounded just like the Cole she’d always known. No, he’d never given much credence to what others thought. It was likely what had made him the success that he’d become.
He smoothed his palm over her face, brushing aside a strand of hair. “Does it bother you, Ren? For them to know you’re mine?”
There, behind the confidence and the blunt words, was a thin layer of worry. Not exactly insecurity but perhaps disappointment.
She leaned up, cupped her hand over his strong jaw and then pressed her lips to his. “No,” she whispered. “It doesn’t bother me at all. I find I just don’t want to disappoint you in any way. I’ve never wanted to disappoint you. That doesn’t go away. Not in ten years.”
He kissed her back. Thrust his hand into her hair and held her to his mouth. His tongue brushed across her lips, tasting, retreating and then boldly advancing again.
He rested his forehead against hers, still holding her to him as he quietly caught his breath.
“No, Ren. You’ve never disappointed me. It was me who let you down. All I want is for you to be yourself and be happy. I love the real Ren. And I’d never want you to be anyone else.”
She swallowed hard. Her heart twisted, robbing her of breath. This was all she’d ever wanted, wasn’t it?
A year ago, she would have said yes, unequivocally. To have Cole back, to have him here, saying the words he was saying. To have another chance to make the past right.
But that was before Lucas. Even as her heart soaked up every piece of Cole, there was still a part that clung stubbornly to Lucas. Maybe it would go away in time. Maybe it wouldn’t.
If Lucas came for her tomorrow, would she be able to tell him no? Was it easier for her to cling to Cole and to accept this fire between them because she feared that Lucas had left her just as Cole had left before?
She didn’t like the possible answers to those questions. She didn’t like that if Lucas was standing in front of her right now, she didn’t know what way she’d go. How could she?
The coward in her hoped that Lucas had moved on because it meant she wouldn’t have a choice to make. She was deeply shamed by that part of her. But the idea of having to choose between two men she cared deeply for had the potential to completely break her.
She shook off the dark thoughts and refocused on the present. If she could put Lucas away in a neat little box, she was happy—extremely so—with Cole. No, they hadn’t been together long. Maybe it wouldn’t even work out. But for now …For now? She was content. A little excited. Hopeful. Who knew what the next two weeks would bring?
Cole kissed her nose and then pulled back, repositioning himself in his seat. He reached over to squeeze her hand and then drove back onto the highway.
A few minutes later, they pulled up to a gated driveway and Cole rolled down his window to speak into the small intercom box. The gate began to open and Cole accelerated up the winding drive and around a corner to a beautiful home.
It was larger than Cole’s and while the landscaping was exquisite, it didn’t feel as homey or personal to her as Cole’s house had. But for her, Cole’s home fit him, or at least her image of him.
Cole parked behind another vehicle and Ren waited as he walked around to get her door. He reached down for her hand and pulled her up to stand beside him.
“I meant it, you know,” he murmured.
She lifted her brows questioningly.
“You’re beautiful.”
She smiled and relaxed. He twined his fingers with hers and started for the door, keeping her beside him the whole way.
Like Lucas, he just had a way of ensuring she felt comfortable.
She closed her eyes. Enough about Lucas. She had to stop with the mental comparisons. It wasn’t fair to either man, but it sure as hell wasn’t fair to Cole, who was doing everything in his power to make her happy.
A tall, imposing man answered the door. Ren’s brow crinkled and she glanced warily at Cole. The guy looked like a bouncer. A higher-class version, but someone into personal security for sure.
Cole just grinned. “How are you, Sam? Is Serena keeping you on your toes these days?”
Sam grimaced and then stepped aside to gesture Cole and her inside.
“Mr. and Mrs. Roche await you in the sitting room. Would you like something to drink? And your lady?”
“This is Ren,” Cole said. “Ren, this is Sam, Damon’s jack-of-all-trades.”
Ren smiled while Sam gravely shook her hand.
“Would you like a drink?” Cole asked her. “Damon stocks very good wine. Well, and everything else. Chances are, if you want it, he has it.”
“I like white wine. I’m not picky.”
Cole nodded. “Make that two.”
Sam disappeared and Cole took Ren’s hand again and led her further into the house. It was opulently furnished but nothing was gaudy. Damon, and perhaps Serena, had excellent taste. The artwork was beautiful. The furniture was tasteful and elegant. The entire house had a look of refinement that was hard to achieve on purpose.
But it still made her vaguely uncomfortable. Almost like she was in a place she could look but not touch. Already she felt the urge to tense up, put on a fake mask and never let these people see inside.
They walked into a spacious sitting room, although it looked like a regular living room to Ren. But perhaps when people had this many rooms in a house, they felt the need to name them all something different.
Damon and Serena were sitting on one of the sofas and another couple sat on the loveseat diagonal to the sofa. The woman was small and curvy, with beautiful caramel-colored skin that told of her Hispanic heritage and long dark brown hair. Her eyes were dark as well, a perfect match to the dark-haired, dark-eyed man who sat next to her.
Both couples rose when Cole entered the room with Ren. Ren hung back automatically even though Cole bore her forward with him.
“Cole, so glad you and Ren could make it,” Damon said warmly. “It’s very nice to see you again, Ren.”
Ren smiled back until her jaw felt frozen. Serena stood at Damon’s side and offered Ren a genuine smile as well.
“Come with me, Ren. I’ll introduce you to Micah and Angelina and then we girls can let the guys do their thing.”
Damon rolled his eyes but let go of her hand. Serena reached for Ren’s wrist and guided her in Micah and Angelina’s direction.
“Micah, Angelina, this is Ren Michaels. Ren, these are dear friends of ours, Micah and Angelina Hudson. Their daughter, Nia, is at the sitter’s tonight.”
“It’s a pleasure, Ren,” Micah said, his husky, deep voice washing over her. It had that thread of authority she so craved, one guaranteed to make her si
t up and pay attention. He too was a man confident of his dominance.
“Hi, Ren,” Angelina offered sweetly, her shy smile delighting Ren.
“Okay, let go of Angelina so we girls can go sit. There’s only so long a pregnant woman should have to stand, and my feet are screaming,” Serena said impatiently.
Micah cracked a grin. “Sure thing, doll. I know when I’ve been given my marching orders.”
He leaned down to kiss Angelina and then stepped around the women and ambled over to where Cole stood with Damon. Not two seconds later, Sam appeared with wine for Cole and Ren.
After Ren took her glass, Serena motioned her and Angelina toward the couch. “Let’s go sit.”
Angelina grinned and leaned toward Ren. “She’s cranky. Don’t mind her.”
“I heard that,” Serena grumbled. She eased back onto the couch and sighed so loud that the men threw amused looks over their shoulders.
Ren perched on the loveseat across from Angelina and Serena, still unsure of what to make of these women.
“She and the others were all about cracking jokes about me when I was a waddling house,” Angelina continued with a smug smile. “It’s not so fun for Serena now that the shoe’s on the other foot.”
Serena glared at Angelina. “Shut up.”
“Who are the others?” Ren asked curiously.
“Our other friends. Girlfriends,” Serena explained. “There’s Faith, Julie and now Lyric, and of course Angelina and I.”
Despite not really wanting to get into sensitive subject matter, Ren was fascinated by Serena being pregnant and how it played into her relationship—the type of relationship—she and Damon had. She knew enough from Cole to know that Damon was the dominant force twenty-four seven, in and out of bed. And yet when Damon looked at his wife, his eyes were soft with love. When he touched her, there was such gentleness and caring. Damon was the type of man Ren herself most longed for and had found with both Cole and Lucas. The other men in her life? Not so much.
“You look preoccupied,” Serena said, interrupting her thoughts. “Is something wrong?”