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“Interesting.” He leans back in his chair, and I can feel him studying me. “Maybe you’re not a prude after all.”
“I never was. It was your imagination.”
“Vicious Surrender is a particularly dirty book, Erin. I had a lot of fun writing it. Now, that’s your favorite book of mine. In it, tell me your favorite scene.”
I quickly pour more coffee. “No way in hell.”
“Come on,” he says playfully. “You know you want to.”
I do, and I don’t. I’m so confused, my body loving the memories of those scenes and the way my mind inserted him and me into the roles. But telling him that is mortifying. Especially since the book in question is a little rougher and a little darker than his other books.
So, I take a deep breath and look at him. That was a mistake. Because Malik’s eyes are warm like chocolate, and I completely underestimated the power of them. How easy it would be to get sucked in. “The alley,” I say, “and everything afterward.”
That scene is pretty iconic in the romance world. It’s when the main character and female character finally have their frustrations out. They’re at a club so they go outside into an alley where it starts raining, and the hero can’t help himself. He pushes the heroine against the wall and finally kisses her. They surrender to what they’ve known that they want. And God, it’s hot.
Then they go back to the hero’s apartment for several chapters of kinky sex that’s raw and messy and perfect. And illustrates the book’s title perfectly.
I’ll never forget the first time that I read that book. It’s one of his earlier ones and I'd never heard about BDSM until that moment, reading by flashlight under my covers. I was as innocent as they come. The idea of being tied up was so foreign and alien to me, I was shocked.
Equally shocked how turned on that book made me.
I’ve been too chicken to try any of the things that the characters do in that book, but I didn’t lie. That book is my favorite, and I’ve read it many, many more times than the others. I keep going back to it.
My copy is so worn that I really should buy a new copy, but I’m sentimental.
“It’s one of my favorites too,” Malik says. His eyes are still so intense that I can’t breathe.
“Why haven’t you written anything else like that then?”
He shrugs. “My publisher prefers the lighter stuff mixed with hot sex. They claim that my brand isn’t edgy enough for those kinds of books. Vicious Surrender was early enough in my career that I could get away with it.”
That’s bullshit. “I know a lot of people who say that’s their favorite book of yours. Maybe your publisher needs to have a more open mind.”
Malik huffs a laugh. “If they had a more open mind, then you and I probably wouldn’t be sitting here.” He glances at the tray of coffee. “Pour me some, please.”
I do. The tray is so close to me already that it makes sense as a request. I don’t quite understand the immediate gratification that I get from pouring it, though. I place the cup in front of him and he catches my wrist before I pull away. “Thank you.”
Holy shit. I never knew what people meant when they said that a touch was electric. Now I do. I feel the slight grip of his fingers through my entire body.
I swallow. “Why are you suddenly being nice?”
“Am I?”
He doesn’t let me pull my hand back. “Well. Nicer.”
“I don’t know that I’m nice.” He lets my hand go and leans back. “They didn’t include the special creamer that I like. Go ask Michael’s secretary for some.”
I’m standing and heading for the door before I fully comprehend the movement, and I jump when Malik chuckles. “Well, now I know why you liked Vicious Surrender.”
“Why?” I turn to face him, half terrified, half desperate to know what he thinks of me.
Malik stands and comes to me. Up close, he’s tall. So much taller than I imagined when I envisioned us meeting—because I did. “You like obeying.” Flustered by his comment, I get hot across my skin. “I do not.”
“No?” He leans closer. “Then why did you practically leap to your feet to do what I asked?”
“Politeness.”
“In this meeting, you’ve already called me a fucking asshole and mocked my financial status. In Michael’s office you told me to get my head out of my ass. You, Erin Bailey, are not concerned about politeness.”
The low volume of his words and the mesmerizing softness of his tone have my body swaying toward him. I can imagine him saying far more wicked things in my ear. But right now, I need to prove him wrong. He can’t have this much of an upper hand on the first day.
