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She left him at the club, with several lingering kisses. First in the car, and then through her window after he got out, until his back ached and his heart felt like it would explode. Then there were ten minutes of simply standing there, their hands linked and resting on the base of the open window, while they simply considered each other. No, that was too adult, and he was too honest not to call it what it was. They gazed at each other with no attention to anything else in the world. What was best, he felt no need to pull away. She was the Mistress. She would say when it was time to leave. All he had to do was stand there, drink in every aspect of her, enjoy the feel of her small-boned hand within the clasp of his, and wish time would just linger there as long as they wanted it to do so.
"Well," she said at last. "I guess I better go. Work tomorrow."
"Yeah." Taking a chance, he tightened his grasp, unable to help himself, and bent down one last time, seizing her lips in a kiss that was undisguised, hungry, greedy, conveying all he felt and wanted from her. His other hand found its way to the side of her face, her neck, tightened so he felt her pulse rage beneath his touch.
When he lifted his head, she was holding onto his wrist, her nails pressing into his flesh. He was scored by her in a dozen places on his back and upper torso, and he gladly would have let her take every bit of his skin off if it would please her.
"Be careful in this death trap," he said. "When can I see you again?"
Though she flashed a reckless smile at his warning, her eyes were serious as she considered the question. He knew, with a tightening in his gut, that she was about to tell him whatever it was she felt was so important that she would not fully offer the gift he'd selected until he'd heard it.
She reached into her purse, took out a business card case, held it without opening it, tapping it on the steering wheel a moment before she made her decision and took out a card, wrote on the back of it.
"I want you to come to my house for dinner, Wednesday night. Can you cook, really?"
"Yes."
She raised a brow. "Just yes? No qualifications, like 'I can only cook burgers or toss salads'?"
He braced both hands on the window and squatted down so they were eye level. "I attended three semesters of cooking school. I can cook you anything you'd like to eat, sugar, and give you a chocolate dessert that will melt in your mouth."
A delighted, sinful smile crossed her face and she tangled her fingers in the chest hair visible in the open collar of his shirt. "How about I cover you with it and make you so hot you melt it? Then I can lick it off every last inch of you,"
He caught her lips in another quick kiss and didn't flinch when she bit, capturing his tongue and teasing it with her own. When she broke the kiss, her cheeks were flushed and violet eyes bright, for she'd donned her concealments before they were in sight of the club. He loved knowing their true color, knowing that the lavender was an enhancement of the glowing iris that was already there.
Her gaze flicked down. "I want you to wear something obscenely tight," she said. "No underwear, so be careful of what's mine when you're getting yourself zipped into them. I want you shaved, close." The direction of her glance indicated what part of his anatomy she was referencing. "Your shirt and shoes go off at the door. I plan to sit on the counter and fully enjoy watching you cook."
He lifted a brow. "I'll do all that, and bring groceries. Do you have a fully stocked kitchen?"
"Mackenzie, I have everything you need."
She pressed the card in his hand, but he saw the hesitation before she did it. All those who took D/s play into the sanctuary of their homes had to weigh the choice very carefully, for a lot of reasons. No one was in a better position to know that than him, given the case he was working now. But he did not want to see worry in her eyes. He took the card she offered, but kept his attention on her face. "You can trust me, Violet."
"I know that," she said.
"It's not going to make a difference, whatever it is."
"Yes, it will. I just... No, don't look at it yet. Not until I drive away. I just want you to know, if you change your mind and decide not to come--"
"Violet." He started to look at the card, her insistence be damned, because the fear in her eyes alarmed him, but she closed her hand over his palm, hiding it.
"--I will understand," she said firmly. "But if you do come, I'll want to talk about what you're really doing at The Zone, and if I can help. I don't have to ask if what we have is real or not. This weekend answered that. Maybe we can use that to help you, Officer. Or is it Detective?"
If she'd told him she was an alien on a mission to investigate the sexual nature of the human population, he would have been less knocked off his feet. At his expression, she managed a smile that was strained around the edges and stroked a quick hand down his chest, caressing him through the open collar of his shirt again. "Doesn't change my terms for how you dress that night. Hope to see you Wednesday. I'll be thinking of you."
She was gone a full minute, the Stealth merging into traffic with practiced ease, before he thought to look down at the card in his hand. He blinked. Felt the rug she'd just pulled out from under him rear back and slap him hard on his ass.
"Son of a bitch."
Chapter 14
He wasn't going to come. Why had she been so stupid? It was too soon.
No, it wouldn't have mattered. It would have been that much harder to accept in a week, two weeks, particularly if they continued on at the same level of intensity. She'd suggested dinner as a way to ease up, of sorts. Take them out of the realm of the dungeon or a home like Tyler's, which were geared specifically toward D/s play. This was about how they got along when it wasn't whips and chains, at least not totally. They'd tested those waters on the way to and from Tyler's and she'd found them to her liking. She wanted more of everything when it came to Mac Nighthorse.
Yes, it was better to get it out in the open now. Despite what she had told him, it might have been an act on his part, and she'd just been part of whatever his undercover assignment had been at The Zone.
