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I’d heard about her crazy past, but I certainly don’t believe she’s cursed. Some of us just aren’t meant for love. I tip my drink back, finishing it off.
“Work is my one true love,” I say. “I’d do anything for this family.”
There’s a glint of determination in her gaze, her eyes leveling with mine. “So would I.” She tips her glass back, finishing her own drink.
I can’t tear my eyes off her lips, now red from her wine. I want more. Our sex on the stairs left me somewhat satiated but my desire for her still simmers under the surface, threatening to boil over. I know I could have her right this second, just pull out her chair, bend her over it and take her.
But she looks too pretty to be treated like that. And that thought disturbs me. It’s like I have too much respect for her, I care for her needs too often.
Think of her often.
I think of her too much.
Do I keep her here? What am I even doing, having dinner with her like this? I don’t treat women like this, showing them the private side of my life, letting them stay in my house, giving them full access to my staff.
She’s different, and for the life of me I can’t put my finger on why, other than she’s just… her.
She’s strong. Determined. I admire her guts to ask questions, to look for the truth. She just better keep her ass away from the boathouse like she’s supposed to. She’s just Charlie Bachman.
God, I’ve got to get my head out of the clouds and focus on work. I’ve got to cut this date—fuck, did I just call it that—short and get back to work. I’ve got a shipment coming in tonight. The largest one we’ve had to date. All the more reason to get her out of here, to send her back home.
Tomorrow. I’ll do it tomorrow. Aiden can take her back to the mainland on the boat.
Now she’s running the tip of her tongue over those red lips, begging me to steal a taste. Well, what the hell. Why not take her one more time before I put her on that boat to cross the lake back to the city.
Time to show her the place that hides behind my speakeasy.
My sex dungeon.
“I have one more place to show you.” I take her hand. “Come.”
She shoots me a look mixed with fear and trust as she rises from her chair with the grace of a ballerina. “I thought I’d had the whole tour.”
“Almost.” I think of my toys, trying to choose what tantalizing way I want to torture her. Breath play, wax play, tie her gorgeous body up in silk roping? What about a collar, pretty kitty cat ears and a butt plug tail…
Again, she looks so beautiful I don’t even want to take off that dress. I just want to pull her down on my lap and have her ride me. I check my watch. I’m pressed for time. I’ll take her down to the dungeon and show her my collection, letting that be the foreplay. I know that naughty streak in her is going to get her wet, just thinking of the things we could do.
It’s not a dungeon, really, but a modern room with sleek lines, white plaster smoothed over the stone walls. My paddles and whips and leather straps are all black. They hang on the wall nice and neat, a beautiful display. A chain hangs down in the center of the room from the ceiling, leather cuffs dangling from it. I’d love to strap her wrists in while I have her fuck me but again… time.
I have to be on the shore in an hour. I can’t be late.
“It’s prettier than I thought it would be.” She takes a turn around the room, looking at all the implements. She glances over her shoulder at me. “Sexy.”
“I thought you’d like it down here. We don’t have much time. I wanted to show you around, and then I thought,” I cross the room, grabbing her up in my arms, “you could fuck me.”
Her face flushes a pretty pink. She winds her arms around my neck. “Oh, you did, did you?”
“I did.” I lean down, brushing a light kiss over her lips. I want to kiss her deeper, longer, but in the back of my mind, the clock is running, tick, tick, tick of the countdown. I drag an armless black leather chair to the center of the room. “We only have a few minutes. I want you quick and dirty. Just climb on my lap and fuck me.”
I dip my hand under that high slit of her dress, raising it higher till I reach her pussy. No panties. Again. I groan, dipping my fingers in her wetness. My other hand goes to her breast, slipping under the low neckline. God. No bra either. This woman will be the death of me.
I squeeze her breast, her nipple tightening at my touch. I slip my hands from her. She gives a soft sigh as I sit down on the chair, pulling her onto my lap.
She leans down, kissing me as I work to hitch up her dress, gathering the material around her waist. Her legs spread, and she plants each high heel on the concrete floor on either side of my legs. I free my cock, this time slipping on a condom from my pocket. I grabbed it earlier. Just in case.
I grasp her hips, lifting her up. Her eyes lock on mine and we keep it that way as I enter her. I hold her hips tight, bringing her tight, wet pussy down onto my cock.
And I lose my mind.
