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As they walked toward the airport exit, she had her hand on his elbow. He shot her a sidelong glance. “That 24/7 sub fantasy you sent me? Kneeling until you fell asleep would be a bitch on my knees, because I know just how long it takes you to fall asleep.”
She poked him in the side, earning another chuckle. Through the wide bank of windows, the gray and orange smoky streaks in the darkening sky showed twilight was talking hold over the city. When he brought her to the exit doors, he added, “But I can rub your feet, make you dinner, and hold you on the couch. Best of all, I can take you on sunset motorcycle rides.”
Anticipation flooded her. It was a lovely night for it, the humid air flirting with the light breeze through the covered passenger drop off area.
Maryshka was pulling up in her tricked-out bright blue Corolla. She leaned over and spoke through the open window. “Hey, Skye. Welcome home. I’m the taxi for your luggage.”
“I figured she could leave your stuff at the garage,” Tiger told Skye. “We can pick it up when we’re on the way to your place.”
Skye signed a thank you to Maryshka. The girl smiled, but as Tiger put the luggage in the backseat, Maryshka mouthed a “thankyou,” taking Skye back to how this had all started.
“Love you, boss,” Maryshka said impulsively as Tiger straightened and gave her a look. She blinked back tears. “You guys look great together, you know that?”
“You scare me when you act female,” Tiger informed her, though he looked a little moved by her unexpected admission. “Get the fuck out of here.”
Maryshka shot him a grin, waved and pulled out. Her navigation through the cabs and other vehicles was as smooth and harrowing as if she’d done stunt work for theFast and Furiousfranchise. Tiger offered Skye a hand. “Come with me?”
Always.She grasped his hand, and he escorted her to short-term parking, where his bike was waiting, dark, gleaming and dangerous. And tempting. Much like the man.
Tiger had brought her boots and a jacket to go over her thin blouse, pulling them out of one of the saddle bags. As she switched out her heels for the boots, he steadied her, his hand sure and warm on hers. Fortunately, she’d worn jeans on the plane. Though they weren’t the same weight as what she’d normally wear for a ride, it was a balmy night and Tiger determined they’d be enough for what he had in mind. He handed her the helmet with another flash of his sexy smile.
The moment she swung on behind him, her tensions from her trip started to ebb. When he started the bike, put it in gear and left the parking lot, he called over his shoulder. “Hold on, Mistress. I want to open her up.”
Yes, please.She gripped his waist, pressing up against him. The bike roared its approval as he gave it more throttle and took it into higher gear. As they sped along the airport road, leaning into the curves, the wind on her body, the rush of being on the powerful machine, open to the elements, made everything even better.
He used the service roads to connect to other rural roads, and after a blissful thirty-minute ride, brought her to a Cajun-style restaurant nestled up against the bayou. There was an outdoor seating area on a deck over the water, illuminated by string lights and lanterns on the wooden tables. Like most New Orleans venues that looked like holes in the wall, the food was exceptional and had several of her favorites offered on the menu.
It was late for dinner, especially at this location on the outskirts of the city, so their corner was quiet, making it easy to catch each other up. He offered more details on what had been going on at the garage this week, and prompted her with the right questions, ultimately getting her to share the irritations she’d glossed over in their phone calls. She hadn’t wanted their evening calls spoiled with that kind of bullshit.
He got her laughing about some of it, threatened to beat up the IT guy for her, and then she was able to let it go. The world had assholes. Big deal. It also had this.
At length they sat together, comfortable and quiet. She moved to sit beside him, and they adjusted their chairs so they could brace their feet on the cable lines strung below the deck railings. She shared her candy bar with him, putting the chocolate on his lips so she could taste her two favorites together.
In time, he straightened and squeezed her leg. “Stay here a minute.”
Assuming he was heading to the facilities, she was surprised when he used the side exit steps from the deck to go to his bike, which he’d parked in view of their table. He withdrew something from the saddle bag she couldn’t identify, since his back was to her. When he came back, he put it on the table surface next to her and sat back down in his chair on her other side.
He met her gaze, his expression hard to read, but she detected a slight tension. “I want to give you something, Mistress. There’s nothing about it that obligates you to anything. I may not be the kind of sub who kneels at your door after work every day, but I can be just as committed to meeting your needs. That’s what this says.”
It was a hard-shell silver box, the top engraved with the outline of a tiger and a rose, the bloom near the tiger’s head, the stem twined around the front paws.
Glancing at him, she cracked it open. The interior top was lined with black satin, the bottom black velvet. Resting on the velvet was a silver cuff bracelet. Stamped on the metal was a finger-spelled word.Yours.Next to it was a cursive word.Mistress.
Yours, Mistress.
“When I’m working, I can’t wear any jewelry,” he told her. “But if you decide you want me to wear it, anytime I’m not working it will be on. It’s my promise to you, Mistress. I’m yours until you tell me I’m not.”
She could feel his concern that he’d presumed too much. She put her other hand on him and gripped his forearm hard, so he knew he hadn’t. Then he paused, giving her a long look. That tension from him increased as he reached in his pocket to draw out something else. A much smaller box.
Her heart jumped, her breath drawing in.
She heard the nerves in his voice as he spoke. “I don’t know your thoughts on this kind of thing, but…if it’s something you want, I wanted you to know it’s a hundred percent on the table for me.”
He leaned over, putting the box next to the bracelet box. As he straightened, his dark blue eyes held hers. “You can keep it and put it away. Or wear it for the rest of our lives and never have to do anything people consider official. It’s what you keeping or wearing it means to me, to us, that matters to me. It tells me you consider yourself mine, too.”
She licked her lips. She could untangle code that looked like string pounced on by an army of cats, but that tangle was what her mind felt like right now.
This box was velvet on the outside, a dark blue. It reminded her of his eyes. When she opened it, she gazed at the ring a full moment, taking it all in. The center stone was an opal, its colors a sunrise mix of golds and pinks, with touches of green andsilver. She suspected in daylight there’d be even more variations to the shades. The stone was flanked by two smaller diamonds, the band embedded with diamond chips in a silver border.
