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As if reading her thoughts, Miguel pulled his T-shirt over his head and draped it over the piling, setting her shoes at the foot and kicking off his sandals to sit next to them. His evenly tanned chest showed him to be in excellent shape—and that he spent a fair amount of time down here instead of in the wintery states. He helped her out of her cover-up, added that to the pile, then held out his hand for her bikini top. Quite a lot of people were out on the beach, taking sunset strolls. A number of other topless women. None had nipple clamps, that she’d noticed.
“When I agreed,” she whispered urgently, “I didn’t know about the...jewelry.”
He raised
genial brows and shrugged. “Okay. You can keep the top on.”
“I can?”
“Of course.” He patted her bottom. “You know I’d rather have the spanking instead.”
“I don’t think I’m ready for that.”
“Hmm. You have a dilemma then.” He squinted out at the lowering sun, then ostentatiously looked at his watch.
She hissed out an impatient breath. “Fine.” She fumbled with the ties and yanked off the bikini top, like ripping off a bandaid, and tossed it on the pile of clothes. “Let’s go.”
He smiled easily, teeth white against his brown skin, and took her hand, strolling down the beach with her at a leisurely pace.
“Don’t hunch your shoulders. You have gorgeous breasts. Be proud of them.”
“It’s not just that—people will see the clamps and...know they’re about sex.”
“Fft. They’re small and barely show. Look at this woman coming toward us. Her nipples are pierced.”
It was true—the young woman with long sun-kissed brown hair had delicate silver hoops through her small nipples. She was laughing up at her bronzed Adonis of a companion, completely unselfconscious. As they passed, the woman’s eyes fell to Tilda’s spirals and she smiled, adding a conspiratorial wink.
Tilda suddenly felt less exposed and more like she’d joined some sort of secret club. After all, if she had clamps on her nipples, what of it? She was a free adult woman, with no vows to anyone. Her professional reputation belonged to someone who lived in a frozen city thousands of miles away from this sensual, sunny beach.
“Now she begins to enjoy herself,” Miguel murmured.
“Back at you. I was beginning to think you lived in a business suit.”
He snorted. “Not if I can help it. But family obligations are just that.”
“How did the meetings go today?”
“Poorly. I am free, however, to not think about it again until Monday morning. Which is exactly what I plan to do. Shall we go have a cocktail while the sun sets, to start the weekend off right?”
“Sounds fabulous.”
They strolled back slowly, enjoying the birds swooping in for their evening feeding, talking of nothing much. Only when they reached the boat launch again and Miguel helped her tie the bikini top back on, did she realize how quickly she’d gotten used to going without it.
Up on the dining patio, they sat at their usual table, with its prime sunset view, and enjoyed their drinks. After a while they ordered dinner. Miguel proved to be a charming companion, interested in everything. Over decaf and brandy, he took her hand, rubbing his thumb over her palm, his eyes dark.
“I promised you dancing.”
In the nightclub down the way, the marimba beat sparkled in the night. Still, she wasn’t tempted. “Maybe another night,” she suggested.
His lips curved. “I was hoping you’d feel that way.” Still holding her hand, he slid his other into his shorts pocket. The bullet vibrated to life inside her, setting a match to her low-burning flame. Her body responded in a long roll of arousal and Miguel laced his fingers with hers, drinking her in.
“I’m going to have you tonight,” he said in a low voice. “Over and over, until you beg me to stop.”
“Oh, thank god!” She squeezed his hand when he laughed.
No longer languid, they hurried to the elevator. The glass walls showed the fountain and pool lights dropping below. Miguel’s hand on the small of her back burned hot while the bullet throbbed steadily inside her, the clamps tight on her clit and nipples.
He guided her inside, told the ever-present server that he could leave for the night. The doors closed on the polite young man with a woosh of vacuum and Miguel clicked the lock for privacy. Then turned on her with a burning expression.
