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CHAPTER SEVEN
Valerie stared after Tim’s back when he excused himself from the kitchen to take a phone call.
Scoffing, she picked up her fork and gave her head a shake. “That man is going to get me into trouble.”
She didn’t know any men quite like him, but she thought she knew exactly what he was. She would have bet a small fortune that he was a dom. Not just a dom, either, but a charismatic one. It was no wonder she hadn’t been able to ignore him.
Staring out the window at the river, she chewed thoughtfully on the lasagna and drummed her fingertips atop the wooden table. Tim had a motorboat pulled onto a trailer in the backyard. Nothing big, just functional. Nothing like the big monster he had tied down in Elizabeth City—the boat that hadn’t seemed to suit him at all for its grandeur. From what she could tell, he was a simple, straightforward guy, and a boat with all those bells and whistles didn’t seem to be something he’d want to keep.
But maybe she should stop making assumptions about the man. He was going to keep her on her toes, and he’d already flipped that “Submit” switch in her without knowing it.
“Damn,” she muttered around a mouthful of noodles. Of course, she was going to want to play. If she had to play at all, she wanted it to be with someone who knew what he was doing. Experienced doms knew how to separate sex from everything else. Their attachment ended when the sensuality did, and that was what she wanted. No strings, no commitments. Just discreet, satisfying, not-spending-the-night sex.
Her last partner, though, hadn’t fit the mold. Perhaps it was because of Rich that she’d been so unwilling to compromise on her “no distractions” policy. Rich had been erratic and too impulsive by half. He was a damned good lay but also the worst sort of egotist. He’d kept showing up even after she’d told him she was done—after that run-in with the cop.
“I should say no.” She blew out a ragged breath and set down her fork. “But I can’t, can I?”
Tim was occupying every free thought she had. She’d obsess about what could have been and berate herself for denying herself the pleasure. Maybe just once, she could be like Leah and do something because it was fun and felt good and not worry about what would happen next.
Tim padded back into the kitchen looking totally unbothered but didn’t sit. He grabbed his beer, swallowed what was left in one long draught, and dropped the can into the recycling bin. “Sorry. I would have let the call go to voicemail, but so few people call me on that number, and when they do it’s usually important.”
“It’s all right.” She kept her gaze on her food, the water outside, anything but him or her mind would go to those dirty places and she’d feel so greedy, so hungry. His mouth. His large, rough hands. The thick, long cock he seemed to have gotten under control during his phone call.
She would have gladly sucked him off. The fact he didn’t let her meant he had more in store for her, and she was convinced she should let him give it to her.
She needed some space to think. Grabbing the piece of Italian bread perched on the edge of her plate, she stood. “I’ll finish the lasagna later. I’m going to go measure the perimeter. The equipment is in my SUV.”
“Need help?”
“No. I’ve got it. It won’t take me long.” She rushed past him with the bread and out the front door. Clamping the chewy bread between her front teeth, she wrested her phone from her tight shorts pocket and dialed Carine’s number.
“Hey, girlie,” Carine said. “I was about to head out to look at a junky old car I stumbled onto on Craigslist. I figured for five hundred bucks, I’d take a look.”
“You know that saying—you get what you pay for?”
“Honey, of course I know that adage. It’s the story of my life.”
“Just checking. I won’t hold you up. I’ve just got one question.” Valerie popped her rear gate and hid behind her SUV, just in case Tim was watching from his living room window. “It’s simple, so give me a simple answer.”
“Uh-oh. What’s up?”
“Well, I just need confirmation. It’s pretty obvious, but I like to get reality checks when necessary. Is Tim a dom? Like, a capital-d dom and not just a guy who likes telling people what to do?”
No response from Carine’s end.
“Carine? Are you there?”
“Ohhhh,shit.”
“It’s a simple question.”
“And I suppose the fact you know the difference would make that a simple answer. You got something you want to tell me?”
“No.”
“I thought we were friends.”
“Oh, thebestof friends, Carine,” Valerie said tartly, “but my knowledge of certain behaviors isn’t something I like to talk about.”
