by M. S. Parker
It was black, setting off my fair skin and pale eyes, the material clingy enough to show off my curves. I'd picked one with a short skirt, remembering what Rylan had said once about my legs. The hem hit just a couple inches below my ass, making it possible for me to walk and sit without flashing my panties at anyone... if I was careful. The neckline was modest, showing enough cleavage to be attractive but not so much that I could be considered inappropriate for a fancy restaurant. To compensate for the late November weather and short skirt, I'd gone with long sleeves. The fact that they also covered the scar on the inside of my left arm and only hinted at the barbed wire tattoo around my right wrist was just a bonus.
As I looked in the mirror, for the first time, I wondered if I should have changed my hair color to something more normal, more acceptable. No, I told myself. I'd made a promise years ago, back when I was starting to heal from all the shit that had been done to me, that I'd never be anything other than myself and, right now, myself had blue hair. If Rylan couldn't accept that, too bad...but he had accepted that, I realized. He hadn't once commented about any of the things that made people look at me like I was a freak.
A knock at the door interrupted my thoughts and I was grateful for it. One of the things I always had to be careful about was getting stuck in these cyclical thoughts or memories that would play over and over again. Living a nightmare for the first thirteen years of my life had made it difficult to accept that bad wasn't my normal state of being. Often, the better things got, the harder those things hit me.
I hurried over to the door, hoping that Rylan liked the way my new heels made my legs look. When I opened the door and saw his eyes widen, I knew they'd been worth every penny. His eyes slid up my legs and over my body. By the time his gaze met mine, his eyes were as dark as they had been the night we'd kissed, as dark as the night we'd slept together for the first time.
I swallowed hard. Shit. I'd said 'for the first time,' which meant I was already thinking about there being a second time. With him looking at me that way, though, it was hard not to think about sex. The man practically breathed it.
“Wow.” He finally spoke. “Now I'm starting to wish I'd chosen a better first date.”
Considering he was wearing a pair of dark gray dress slacks and a black sweater that showed off his amazing physique, I would've been happy to spend the entire night staring at him. Instead of doing that, I asked a question, “What did you choose?”
He smiled at me and my stomach twisted.
“There's a concert at the college tonight. They're doing a whole hors d'oeuvres with cheese and wine thing beforehand.” His expression turned sheepish and he ran his hand through his hair. “I thought it sounded nice and now I'm thinking it's a bit–”
“It's perfect,” I interrupted. A thrill went through me when I realized he was almost as nervous as I was. I didn't know why. There was absolutely no way this was his first date.
“Can I be honest?” he asked.
I braced myself for something bad.
“I've never met anyone like you before.” He took a step toward me, his gaze burning. “You're this crazy combination of strength and vulnerability.”
I flushed. I should have hated that he could see beyond the tough exterior I put up, but instead, it made me want him even more.
He was close enough to touch me now and that's what he did, putting his hand on my cheek. My heart did a stutter-step.
“I feel like if I take one wrong step, I'm going to lose you.” His eyes flicked down to my lips and then his thumb brushed over the bottom one. “Tell me that you'll give me a chance, an honest chance to make this work. Promise me.”
I let my tongue dart out against the tip of his thumb and his fingers flexed on my face. “I promise.” And then I did something I'd never done before. I asked him to kiss me.
His mouth came down on mine a moment after the words were spoken and I leaned into him. My hands gripped the front of his shirt as one hand cupped the back of my head and the other slid down my spine to rest at the small of my back. He pushed his tongue between my lips, making it clear who was in control of the kiss. It should have panicked me, but instead sent a jolt of arousal straight through me. I doubted that I'd be able to so easily give up control in sex, but right now, I closed my eyes and let him thoroughly explore my mouth. He took his time, scraping his teeth across the bottom of my lip, then lightly biting down. I moaned, pressing my body more tightly against him. I could feel his cock hardening against me and felt a burst of pride that I could make a man like this want me.
“Oh, Jenna,” he breathed my name and it sent a shiver down my spine. “You have no idea how badly I want you.”
Considering how damp my panties were, I thought I had a pretty good idea. I wondered what he'd say if I suggested we skip the date and head in to my bedroom.
He took a step back and I could see the reluctance on his face.
“But I want to do this right,” he said. “I meant what I said before. I don't want this to be about sex.” He smiled, his eyes glinting. “Or, only about sex.”
“So, concert, cheese, wine?” My entire body was still tingling from the kiss and I was ready for more, but knowing he was willing to stop rather than take care of what his body obviously wanted meant more to me than he could know.
“You really don't think it's a stupid idea?”
I shook my head. “I was worried you were going to take me to some expensive restaurant where I'd use the wrong fork.”
He laughed and held out his hand. I took it, enjoying the way it felt as my palm slid across his. His fingers threaded between mine and the gesture made me feel safer than anything else ever had. I let him pull me against his side as we walked toward the stairs.
“You know,” he said. “You should probably look into moving somewhere that has a working elevator.” He grinned down at me. “I'm all for working out, but I'm not looking forward to having to climb three flights of stairs every time I want to see you.”
I smiled back. “I guess that means we'll have to spend more time at your place.”
Chapter 9
I'd been joking when I'd said we'd have to spend more time at Rylan's place, but after an amazing night of music and expensive food, he'd asked me if I wanted to call it a night or come back to his place.
Of course I wanted to go with him. I loved that we'd gone on a real date, but every moment I'd spent touching him tonight had left my body craving more. I would explode if he just dropped me off at home with only a good-night kiss.
We made our good-byes to the few other alumni who'd remembered Rylan from his days at CSU and made our way to his car. I'd been a little surprised when I'd realized that he'd driven and even more so when I saw that his car wasn't some flashy sports car but rather a hybrid. If it had been some other rich guy, I probably would've suspected that he'd driven a hybrid to make it look like he was some environmentally conscious do-gooder. Everything I'd observed about Rylan, however, said he was as genuine as could be.
When we'd walked into the concert hall, there were plenty of looks sent my way, but Rylan had ignored them all. He'd put his hand at the small of my back and steered me toward a waiter who was serving champagne. Each person who'd come up to talk to him about being one of CSU's most successful alumni, he'd made a point of introducing me the same way. While I knew most of it was due to the fact that I was here with him, I had to admit that it was nice to be recognized for my accomplishments rather than my appearance.
Now, as I sat in the passenger's seat, I couldn't help but look at him and wonder how this had happened. How had someone as fucked up as me managed to find someone like Rylan? Not just a half-way decent guy, but a great guy. The kind of man who any woman in her right mind would want to be with.
“Is something wrong?” Rylan asked as we headed out of the main part of the city toward the lake that his property edged.
“No, why?”
“You keep staring at me like you expect me to do something stra
nge like turn into a pumpkin or a monster or something.”
“No, not a pumpkin,” I mused, more to myself than to him.
“You know we don't have to do anything.” His voice was gentle. “I don't have any expectations.”
I smiled at him and took his hand, placing it on the bare skin of my thigh. “You might not, but I do.”
I heard him catch his breath, but he didn't remove his hand from my leg.
“And what might those expectations be?” The tone of his voice had shifted and I knew I was responsible for it.
I also knew he was giving me the chance to set the boundaries for tonight. Butterflies fluttered in my stomach. I'd known when I told Rylan that I wanted to try to have a real relationship with him that it would be full of these moments. Full of moments where I would have to decide what step I was getting ready to take, and how much I was going to tell him when I set the guidelines.
I'd been thinking about this moment from the time I'd woken up from my first sex dream. I was equal parts terrified to say it but also wanting it so badly that I could feel every part of me throbbing in anticipation.
“I want you to be in control.” My heart hammered against my chest as I said the words.
“Are you sure?” He raised his hand from my leg to wrap it around mine.
“Yes.” The word was shaky, but I was certain. “No tying me up, but the rest we can take one step at a time.” I risked a look over at him. “Is that okay?”
He made a sound that I couldn't quite identify and raised our hands to his mouth, turning them so that he could brush his lips against the back of my hand. “You can't know how much it means to me that you're willing to try.” He squeezed my hand. “Just promise me one thing.”
“Yes?” I made it a question rather than an acceptance.
“Do you remember the safe words we discussed?”
I nodded.
“Please promise me, no matter what, you'll use them.” He pulled into the driveway of his magnificent house, but didn't get out, rather turning to me with a serious expression on his face. “I mean it, Jenna.” He reached out with his free hand and cupped the side of my face. “I never want to do anything that could hurt or bother you. I don't care what it is. A touch. A word.”
My heart clenched at the intensity in his voice. It wasn't the bad kind or even the sexual kind. This was the sort of intensity that came with wanting to make sure that there was no misunderstanding.
“What I'm going to say may sound crude, but it's the best way to make you understand what I mean.” He dropped his hand from my face. “I don't care if I'm buried deep inside you, ready to come, and you need me to stop, all you have to do is say the word.”
Weird as it may have sounded, that was the most amazing thing anyone had ever said to me.
“Promise me,” he said.
My voice was tight as I answered, “I promise.”
He held my gaze for a moment, as if trying to decide if I was being honest with him, and then he nodded. I wasn't sure what the nod meant, but I didn't have a chance to ask. He got out of the car and came around to open my door. In the short time it took him to cover that distance, the familiar dark voices of doubt reared their heads, whispering all of the reasons why this was a bad idea, how he was going to hurt me.
Then he opened my door and held out his hand. The moment we touched, the voices quieted. They didn't fully go away, and I didn't think they ever would, but they at least went back to the part of my mind where they usually slept.
Even though I'd been to his house before, I hadn't truly been able to appreciate the absolute beauty of the structure. Now, even as I admired the stone structure, my focus still wasn't wholly on it. It didn't matter how expensive the place was or how many rooms it had. I registered all of that on one level, but most of me was just thinking about that room, the one Rylan had shown me.
The one where the bed had been designed for bondage.
We walked into the house and up the steps in silence. I could feel my heart pounding, my chest tightening. I trusted Rylan enough to not try the one thing I'd told him not to do, but I wasn't sure I could keep myself together in that room. Not yet.
But we didn't go to that room. We stopped in the hallway next to the door of the spare room where I'd slept before. That was enough of a surprise, but Rylan shocked me when he opened the door across the hall.
The door to his room.
My expression must've shown what I was thinking because he smiled down at me.
“Nothing crazy tonight,” he said. “And I thought you might feel more comfortable if you weren't around all of the bondage stuff.”
Relief flooded me. I kept my gratitude simple. “Thank you.”
He stepped into the bedroom and I followed. It was bigger than the guest room I'd stayed in with a massive bed in the center. An open door to my right showed a glimpse into a bathroom that I was sure was even more lavish than the one I'd seen. Other than the size of the space and the quality of the furnishings, there wasn't any of the usual shit that made up the bedrooms of rich bachelors. No massive electronic systems. There was a flat screen on the wall opposite the bed, but it wasn't anything gratuitous. No gaming systems, no flashy decorations that said he'd given carte blanche to an interior designer.
The one thing that did make me raise my eyebrows and turn to him with a question on my face was the vase of roses sitting on the end table to the right side of the bed. “Not exactly what I expected to find in a man's bedroom.”
He grinned at me, a surprisingly boyish smile that made me wonder if that's what he'd looked like as a child. “I was telling the truth when I said I didn't have any expectations about tonight, but I was hoping.” He walked over to the end table and plucked one of the red roses from the vase. “Rose petals are extremely soft,” he said as he walked back over to me. “But you can never truly appreciate them until you feel them on the most sensitive parts of your body.”
I shivered as his voice slid across my skin. Something had shifted when he'd picked up that flower and while he never did anything dominating, I knew I was no longer in control.
I waited for the panic to come, but as my eyes met his, I felt the same safety I'd felt when he'd held my hand. I had to spend a couple years learning to enjoy sex, but even since then, I never connected with anyone, never let down my guard. Because I never felt safe. Even in my own apartment, there was still always something in the back of my mind telling me that I was reachable, that people who wanted to hurt me would find me. I knew it wasn't possible, not after I'd reinvented myself so thoroughly, but I'd never been able to get rid of that feeling. I'd accepted long ago that being safe enough to sleep with just the bathroom light on was the best I was going to get.
“I've got you, Jenna,” Rylan said softly.
I didn't know if it was the words, the tone or the look in his eyes, but I believed. I believed him enough that I accepted the fact that I was safe. A weight that I hadn't known I'd carried was lifted off of me and I could breathe more freely than I ever had before.
A slow smile curved my lips. “And now that you have me, what are you going to do with me?”
Rylan made a sound low in his throat and I saw something flash across his eyes. My arousal spiked. Oh, he would do some very good things to me.
“Clothes,” he said. “Off. Now.”
Fuck.
I'd always hated it when people tried to give me orders, but there was something about him, about the way he said those words that turned me on rather than freaked me out.
I reached behind me and unzipped my dress, letting the straps slide down my shoulders. The first time we'd slept together, he'd wanted me to undress slowly and I'd refused. Now, I would give him what he wanted.
His gaze was hungry as he watched the material slip off and pool at my feet.
“Damn.” The word came out in a breath.
I suddenly felt shy even though I was still wearing my bra and panties. While not exactly conservative, they were fa
r from ridiculously sexy. Though they probably did look more so at the moment since I was wearing a pair of high heels.
“Bra.”
I reached behind me, unhooked it and let it drop to the floor.
“Panties.”
He was still completely dressed, but as I slowly pulled down my panties, I saw him toe off his shoes, leaving me wearing the only thing he wasn't. When I straightened, he closed the distance between us, but only to within reaching distance. He held out the rose, brushing the petals across my cheek and down to my lips. He hadn't been kidding about how soft the flower was.
“Will you close your eyes?” he asked.
I shook my head and waited for a question. Instead, he moved on, running the rose down my neck and across my collarbones. He circled around behind me, taking the flower with him. I felt him tracing the angel wings and wondered if he was studying them closely enough to see the scars beneath.
“Do I get to look at your tattoo?” I asked.
He came back into my line of sight. “Maybe after. If you decide to stay the night.”
“And if I want to go home?” I asked.
“Then I'll take you,” he said. “Or you can sleep across the hall again.” He used the rose to circle my right breast, lingering on the nipple. “But I'm hoping you'll stay.”
I didn't give him an answer and he didn't press for one. He ran the rose down my arm, then back up, before moving to my left breast. My nipples were hardening under the gentle touch, my skin humming. When the rose went down the scar on the inside of my left arm, I waited for a question again, but it didn't come.
The rose went across the sensitive skin of my stomach, neither avoiding nor lingering on the six inch burn scar that ran down my side to my hip. He teased at the stud in my bellybutton, the tickling sensation making me smile. He moved behind me again, letting the rose drop to my ass. My eyelids fluttered as the petals teased at the crease between my legs, its touch almost too light. When he came back around the front, he was closer, watching as the rose glided over the thin, dark curls that covered my pussy. I pressed my lips together, swallowing the moan that wanted to escape. I didn't know if he wanted me to speak.