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He shrugged. "It explains a lot, really."
I nodded, not saying anything else.
Then he stood up and came to me, putting his arms around me. "But I've learned the hard way. Now, enough reminiscing. I want to have a nice evening with you now that we can. Your father wants us to come out with him to dance, but I pointed to my arm and used it as an excuse. I said I wanted to bring in the New Year with you alone. He thought that was probably a better idea, considering…"
"I can't believe he accepted that you're into BDSM…"
Drake shook his head, smiling. "He said 'I don’t care what bedroom games people play in the privacy of their own homes for God's sake. I've played a few of my own. You have to in order to keep a marriage alive and I was married to the same woman for twenty one years…"
"Bedroom games," I said, smiling. I closed my eyes and leaned against Drake, my arms slipping around his waist. "Do you suppose he's a bit of a Dom himself?"
"I wonder…" Drake said. "Sly old bastard if so. Still, it must be hard for a father to think of his beloved daughter being sexual."
"And vice versa. But, as long as he thinks of it as bedroom games, that’s OK by me."
"Seriously, Kate, I'm pretty tame when it comes to Doms. A lightweight. He said he did his research."
"You're just right for me."
He smiled at that. "I think so."
"I know so."
He kissed me and all the tender emotions quickly turned to ones more passionate, his hands slipping down to the hem of my dress to search for garters, which I hadn't worn.
"No garters?"
"I was too sad to wear them."
"Do you have them here?"
I nodded, a smile starting on my face.
"Go put them on with nothing on underneath."
"Are you serious? At my parent's New Year's Eve dinner?"
"Please," he said, grinning. "I didn't get a present from you and I'm feeling all deprived. Consider it your present to me."
I left the bathroom and went to my bedroom where my bag was on the dresser. Inside were the garter belt and nylons I'd worn the last time I saw him. While he waited in the living room, I slipped off my undies and pantyhose and put on the garter belt and nylons. I took in a deep breath, knowing that just wearing them alone would make me aroused.
I went out to the living room where he stood by the bar talking to the bartender, who was pouring some Anisovaya into Yelena Kuznetsova's shot glasses. Drake took them and turned to me, and when he saw me, his face just brightened, then a leer started on his face, his mouth turning up into a half-grin.
He came to me where I stood by the fireplace and handed me one of the glasses, with the delicate filigree pattern etched onto the crystal.
"Za vas, moya lyubov," he said. "To you, my love."
I couldn't repeat it because of emotion, covering my mouth with my hand, smiling through tears.
We shot the Anisovaya back and I grimaced, although I had come to associate the taste with pleasure.
He leaned in and kissed me immediately, and I could taste the anise on his lips and tongue.
"With you looking like that," he said, stepping back to examine me up and down. "Knowing what's underneath that dress? I don't know if I can wait until later. We may have to sneak off in between courses for a quickie."
Heat rose in my cheeks at that, warmth between my thighs.
"You haven't given me a present yet either," I said a grin spreading on my own face. "Maybe you could use me the way I've always wanted – a fast fuck in the broom closet that leaves me panting, in need of you. Later, you could take your time and satisfy me… Maybe pour some of that Anisovaya over me and lick it off…"
