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“What are you doing?” she gasped. She struggled to get free but he wouldn’t let go. His grip wasn’t painful, but it was as unyielding as steel. He leaned down and took her mouth in a searing kiss. His tongue forced its way in. She made a noise of protest and moved to bring her knee up to his nuts.
He countered swiftly, shoving his own leg between hers and pressing into her. He nipped her bottom lip with his teeth as if to punish her for trying to hurt him. Her senses were overloaded. He tasted like he had before, like spices, rich and dark. And his scent enveloped her, woods and musk. She stopped trying to pull away. After a few long moments he leaned back a little.
“Stop,” she begged. “Let me go. I- I don’t like this.”
“Really? You don’t like it? Is that why your cheeks are flushed and your pupils are dilated and you’re having trouble breathing normally? Because you don’t like it?” He slid his hand around her left wrist until his fingers settled over her pulse. “Your heart’s racing.”
“Because I’m scared!” she lied.
“Abby. Your nipples are rock hard, your tongue was in my mouth, and you were rubbing your pussy on my thigh.”
She looked down. Her face turned scarlet. “I was not,” she whispered.
He leaned in, his mouth so near she could feel his breath. He bit her earlobe. She yelped at the surprise pinch. “Don’t lie, Abby,” he murmured. “Not to me. Ever. I’ll know and I won’t like it.”
She drew in a sharp breath.
“You like them on top, Abby. You like the feel of their weight on you, pressing you into the mattress, restricting your movements. You also like it because they cover you. If you’re on top you feel too exposed, too much like you’re on display.”
She let out a breath. “How do you know?” she couldn’t stop herself from whispering.
“Because I know what you are, Abby. And it doesn’t make you a slut. It just makes you a passionate woman with very specific needs, that’s all.”
Abby nearly scoffed. Passionate. She’d been called a lot of things. That had never been one of them. She sighed heavily. “Mark, I’m not-”
“Tomorrow night,” he said interrupting her. “Come to my house at 8 o’clock. I promise you I will give you a safe environment to learn more about yourself. Nothing out there, nothing too frightening. Just a chance to explore.”
He let her go, took a business card out of his pocket, and pressed it into her hand. “Tomorrow, 8 o’clock. Please come.” When he was gone, Abby inspected the card. It had his home address handwritten on the back.
She let out a breath and leaned back against the counter, turning the card nervously in her hand. Then she stuffed it into her purse.
****
Abby had managed not to give Mark’s offer much thought through most of the next morning, but when it was time for lunch, she pulled her purse out of her desk and reached into it to get her keys, finding the card instead. She frowned at it. Then checked her watch, stuffed the card back inside, and headed out the door. She told Susan, the desk clerk, that she was out for an hour and hopped in her car. She started it up and turned left instead of right out of the garage, heading for the south end of town.
Maria’s had a few afternoon customers but not much. The old man Milo was there and grinned at her as she headed toward the bar.
“Afternoon, Vegas,” he sang brightly.
Abby smiled back. “Milo.”
Without any fanfare, Maria set down a martini glass in front of Abby and poured some Death’s Door and a splash of vermouth into a shaker. Abby’s face broke into a grin. Normally she’d hold off on the liquor before five, but Maria had apparently gone to some trouble.
“Thanks,” Abby said, picking up the glass. She took a sip and nodded at Maria. “Ah,” she said. “Civilization.”
Maria laughed. “Get you anything else?”
Abby hesitated. “Slick here, by any chance?” she asked casually.
The blonde’s eyes narrowed shrewdly, but she reached back and pounded on the swinging door. Moments later the tiny brunette came through. “Abby!” Slick called out.
“Hey,” Abby replied, smiling. “I’m on lunch and I was wondering if we could hang out. Do you have a break or something coming up any time soon?”
Slick looked at her watch. “Um, sure, I could take a lunch now.”
“Great,” replied Abby. She glanced around. “Maybe…some place else?”
The other woman looked a little surprised, but nodded again. “Let me clock out.”
Abby drained the martini and set the glass down on the bar. “Thanks, Maria.” She dug a twenty out of her purse and slid it across the bar. Maria eyed the huge tip. “To offset the cost of the glasses and the shaker and the vermouth,” Abby told her.
