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“Stop.”
“Have you been spanked?”
“This was a terrible decision, coming here tonight.”
“Whips?”
She told herself to stand up, march down the stairs, and storm out of the restaurant. But thatlookwas back in his eyes, and she was drawn to it. Connected to it. Tied—no,handcuffedto it.
To him.
The image of being handcuffed to Julian, the two of them naked and sweating, entered her mind and refused to leave despite her efforts to push it away. Her body responded, her pussy dripping at the image, her nipples tingling, her pulse quickening.
“Blindfolds?”
“Julian, I—”
“Handcuffs?”
“Oh god.” The words slipped out of her mouth with a breathy sigh, and she caught the knowing grin on his face.
Who was this man? And what was she going to let him do to her?
19
With his question about handcuffs, Julian had seen straight into Skylar’s mind. Or maybe it was just that he saw her that clearly. Knew where her mind would naturally go when he demanded to know what turned her on.
“Youwereimagining it, weren’t you? You handcuffed to the bed. A man between your legs. Or is it me you saw there?” he asked, quirking his brow.
Tell him. Tell him yes.
“Are you wearing panties?” he asked.
She blinked.
“A bra?”
“I—I—I—” she stuttered.
He reached over and touched the silk of her dress. “I asked you to wear the dress. You did. I also asked you to wear nothing else. So are you bare?”
She swallowed. Should she answer truthfully? That she was bare underneath the flowing silk? Or should she ignore him? Or change the subject or throw a napkin in his face or yell out her own challenge to him or—
Too late. The maître d had arrived, bearing a tray of food. “First course, Mr. Bauer,” the man in the black and white suit said, placing a charcuterie board on the table. “Is everything to your liking?”
“You know I find all you do here perfect,” Julian said good-naturedly as if they hadn’t just been discussing vibrators and whips and handcuffs and her current lack of panties.
Skylar smiled blandly at the man as if she hadn’t just been challenged by a male escort who was demanding answers about her sex life.
But was Julian here as an escort or a journalist, or simply a man?
He began to eat without paying her any attention, and when he sipped his wine still without even looking at her, Skylar found herself annoyed with him again. Then she grew annoyed at herself for caring.
Finally, he spoke, only to say, “The prosciutto is exquisite. You must try it.”
She could sit here and huff at him, she could leave, or she could eat. And thatprosciutto e melonelooked delicious. Relenting a tiny bit, she sampled a bite, letting the ripe sweetness of the cantaloupe meld with the salty brine of the prosciutto. Simply heavenly.
“Excellent, isn’t it?”
