A LITTLE HARMLESS PLEASURE

Harmless Series

by

Melissa Schroeder

Chapter One

Cynthia dabbed a bit of perfume behind her ears and then studied her reflection in the mirror. Pale, underweight, boring. Releasing a sigh, she tried her best to ignore her inner critic. Reaching into her makeup bag, she pulled out the pale pink lip gloss, wishing for once she’d gone for the red lipstick she wanted so badly. Again, as she’d done over the past few weeks, she squashed the need to rebel against her upbringing. A Myers woman didn’t wear trashy clothes or outlandish makeup. She dressed conservatively, spoke softly, and was probably the dullest person on the face of the earth.

She jumped when a loud rap at her bathroom door brought her out of her thoughts.

“Cynthia.”

Cringing at the anger in her father’s voice, she took a deep breath, trying to calm her nerves.

“I want to talk to you right now about this nonsense.”

She swallowed and looked at herself again. Getting past the panic that had her stomach flip- flopping, she screwed up her courage and turned to open the door.

At the age of sixty- five, her father was still considered a handsome man. In good shape, with more money than he knew what to do with, he could charm just about any woman into bed, and had on occasion. Her parents had an understanding in their marriage she couldn’t fathom. She knew her mother had fallen for his good looks and his family background, but Cynthia had witnessed this side of him too often to be charmed. Anger reddened his face and caused his eyes to bulge. His lips turned down in a mean frown.

“Cynthia Louisa Myers, I want to know just what the hell you think you’re doing.”

The urge to slam the door in his face came and went, without it ever showing on her face. She’d spent years learning how to hide true emotions. Unfortunately, her ulcer, which her doctor had just informed her about, started to churn in her stomach.

“I’m getting ready to go to Max and Anna’s wedding.”

There, that was brave. She could handle this. She could do what she wanted without fear. Or without showing it.

“I will not have it.” Her father leaned forward, trying to intimidate her with his size.

“I’ve said this before. I don’t want you to have any contact with Max and his slut.”

Anger pulsed through her. Another shard of pain radiated from her stomach. “I told you not to call her that. And I don’t care what you say. They both went out of their way to make sure I knew they wanted me there.” And after the way she had almost caused them to break up, Cynthia thought she owed them for their kindness.

Her father’s mouth opened and closed, twice. Then his face flushed an even brighter shade of red. “Young lady, I will not have it. You will do what I say, or— ”

“Or what, Father?” Her voice had gone soft. No matter how many times she went through this, no matter how old she was, she reacted like a child when her father confronted her. She hated that she wasn’t strong enough to yell back.

He schooled his features; his eyes, so much like her own, turned cold. The anger seeped out of his face. “This is what you want?”

“What I want? When has it ever been about what I wanted?”

His eyes narrowed until just a little of the soft blue of his iris was visible. A shiver skated down her spine and chilled her. “I don’t know what the hell your problem is, Cynthia, but I will tell you this. If you decide to do this— if you defy me— you are no longer welcome in this family.”

Pain splintered her heart. “What are you saying, Father?” But she knew. Breaking off the engagement had been her one act of defiance. Even though she had tried to get Max back, he’d been lost to her from the time she’d broken things off with him. He’d finally acknowledged his feelings for Anna, and there was nothing Cynthia could have done about it. And now, there was nothing she would do.

“You were raised to make a good match. And you did with Max, but you fucked that up.” She flinched at his unusual use of vulgar language. “I thought maybe we could find you someone else, but you’re a laughingstock. Going to the wedding of the man who dumped you for a tramp.”

“So, what? Now that you can’t sell me, you don’t want to have anything to do with me?” She couldn’t stop the little catch in her voice.

He pursed his lips before flattening them in a straight line. “I’ve given you your choices.”

He turned without another word and left. His angry footsteps echoed down the hall as he stomped away. She swallowed the hurt and anger, but felt another twinge in her tummy.

Before leaving the bathroom, she grabbed up her medicine and took her dose. After downing the pills, she looked herself in the mirror, squared her shoulders, and told herself it didn’t matter. It did, but she wouldn’t let it bother her today.

Today, she had a wedding to attend.

Chris Dupree watched Max tie his bowtie as he grinned like a fool.

“You sure you want to do this?” Chris asked, eyeing him with speculation. Max’s grin grew wider.

“You have seen Anna, haven’t you?” He wiggled his eyebrows at Chris, causing Chris to laugh. “And besides, you’re looking at a fool in love.” Max turned to check out his tux in the full- length mirror.

Chris snorted. “I understand the fool part.”

Max grinned at him in the mirror, but said nothing. Chris had been surprised, to say the least, when he met Anna. Bold, beautiful, and just what Max needed, in Chris’s opinion.

Just the opposite from what he’d expected Max to choose. As rigid as Chris was laid back, Max needed someone who wouldn’t put up with his heavy- handedness. Because Chris wasn’t one to suffer fools, the two of them had hit it off almost immediately when they’d met in college. They’d made an odd couple for a friendship, especially on the campus of conservative University of Georgia. Max, the white son of landed southern aristocracy; and Chris, middle- class kid, the product of a Creole mother and white father, had somehow clicked when they met in their first macroeconomics class. They were sharing an apartment by the end of that semester; both graduated with honors the same semester; and even after Chris relocated to Honolulu, they tended to talk on a regular basis.

“So, is it true your ex- fiancée is going to be here today?”

“Yeah. Anna insisted. Which is amazing, because— well, if you hadn’t guessed, she has a bit of a temper.” He turned to face Chris. “But Cynthia smoothed things over at the country club up in Valdosta for Anna. She’s gone out of her way to make sure everything runs smoothly for the wedding.” He paused, and his smile faded. “I just worry about Cynthia a bit.”

Max grabbed up the ring box and tossed it at Chris.

“Worry about her?”

For the first time since Chris had arrived, Max frowned. “You know her father, Justin Myers. He’s a jackass, thinks women are in two categories— slut and Madonna. And he doesn’t think women have any brains. She’s been raised to make a good marriage; that’s it.

So, now that she has defied her father, she’s probably close to getting disinherited. And she’s ... a little fragile.”

“Hmm.”

Just then, there was a sharp knock. Without waiting for an answer, a petite blonde dressed in a conservative suit walked into the room.

“Cynthia, you could have waited for me to say come in. I could have been undressed,”

Max said with a smile.

She looked him up and down. “Not like I haven’t seen it before, Max.”

Max’s jaw went slack, and then he laughed. “You’ve been spending too much time with Anna.”

She shook her head, and that’s when she noticed Chris. The first thing that struck him was that this woman was so different from Anna. With her smooth blonde hair, her cornflower- blue eyes, and her beige, nondescript clothes, she was almost the antithesis of Max’s vibrant fiancée. She studied him, no expression on her face, other than a polite smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes.

“Cynthia, this is my friend Chris Dupree. You remember I mentioned him.”

“Of course, Mr. Dupree; you’re the best man. So nice to meet you.”

Did he imagine it, or did her voice just dip lower? It had deepened, along with that upper- crust Georgia accent. A flash of heat licked through his blood. Chris had always been a sucker for southern women.

He stood and offered her his hand. “Nice to meet you, too, but please, call me Chris.”

Her smile turned real, reaching her eyes. A dimple appeared on either side of her mouth, and her face came alive. She reached for his hand, and the moment their hands touched, her face flushed pink. He’d never been one for petite blondes, especially ones that blushed, but for some reason he felt a spark of interest.

For a second, she seemed to hold her breath, her mouth partially open. Then, a moment later, she looked down at their joined hands and apparently realized she’d been holding on to his hand and staring at him. Her face turned a brighter shade of pink. She released his hand and stepped back. Then took another step back. But she was still staring at him, as if he were a forbidden treat she wanted to take a bite out of. His body heated, even though the A/C was cranked up high. She licked her bottom lip. Chris couldn’t help it; his attention snagged on that plump pink tongue swiping across her lower lip.

“Did you come here for a reason, Cynthia?” Max’s voice seemed to break the spell.

She blinked, then looked over at Max, dismissing Chris. Which annoyed Chris, for some unknown reason.

“Yes. Your mother and Anna are driving me insane. Anna’s mother, thank the good Lord, is the only calm one of the bunch. Your mother asked me three times if you had the ring. Anna said you’d better be ready the moment it’s time to walk down that aisle.”

Max looked at Cynthia, then Chris, then back to Cynthia. “Tell her I promise. And remind her she is the one who is usually late. Is there anything else?”

She shook her head and turned to leave. When she reached the door, she looked back over her shoulder. “It was very nice to meet you, Mr. Dupree.” Her voice was soft and southern, reminding him why he’d missed southern women. When their accent deepened like that, it always made it sound as if they’d just had great sex. She slipped out the door without another word. Chris had to tear his attention from the closed door back to his host.

Max stared at it, then looked over at him. “You know I tend to mind my own business.”

“One of the things I like about you, Max.”

Max’s eyes narrowed at his dry tone. “Nevertheless, Cynthia is not someone you would be interested in.”

He wasn’t that interested, but he still didn’t like Max’s tone. He didn’t want to think the friend who had stood up to more than one bigoted jackass in college would let him down now. “And what does that mean?”

Max sighed and muttered something under his breath. “I know you, Chris. You lead a certain lifestyle— ”

“Not anymore.”

Max’s eyebrows rose to his hairline. “And when did that start?”

Chris thought back to Jasmine, his last sub. By the end of their relationship, he wasn’t sure he’d ever trust another woman again, let alone trust one enough to commit to a Dom/sub relationship.

“Bad experience. Decided it wasn’t for me.” He was sick of trying to fit into a lifestyle where he was considered an outcast. Many within the D/s world didn’t accept switches, thinking of them the way many people thought of bisexuals. They couldn’t understand why someone couldn’t choose one role and stick to it. “Don’t worry; I won’t eat your little Cynthia.” Even if the comment conjured up the most delightful imagery.

Frowning, Max tilted his head to one side, studying him. “I don’t think you’d intentionally hurt her. I just saw the look you gave her, and I know you.”

Chris laughed. “Yeah, and until Anna, you weren’t much better. Hell, both of us were pretty bad back in college. But don’t worry. I will be nice to Cynthia, and I promise hands off unless she makes the first move.” He thought about those bluer- than- blue eyes and the look she’d given him when she’d seen him. “I have a feeling that’s not going to happen.”

Cynthia sipped her champagne, watching Anna and Max dance their first dance. They looked so happy ... so in love. She would not feel envious. Okay, she felt a little jealous, but that was to be expected. Max and Anna definitely had something very special. When you were in a room with them, you could feel the energy between them, so any red- blooded American girl would feel a little jealous. Even after everything, though, she was happy for them. Happy that they had found each other. She could feel the looks cast her way— some expectant, waiting for a fight; some pitying, thinking her the jilted party. She didn’t care; she had other things on her mind. Like being homeless.

“Such a serious expression on such a beautiful face.”

She looked over her shoulder, then turned to face Chris Dupree, who was standing just a few feet behind her. Tall, lean, yet well- muscled, with skin the color of mocha, Chris smiled at her, and her knees weakened. He had one of those smiles you could tell would melt the heart of the hardest woman, all teeth, and complete with dimples. Add in what looked to be a body made of sinewy muscle, a strong jaw line— which Cynthia could never resist— and those twinkling eyes, and the man was Dangerous with a capital D. She’d love to lick him up one side and down the other just to see if he was as sweet as he looked.

Good God. Where had that thought come from? She’d had too much champagne. Or maybe she had spent too much time with Anna today. There was no other reason for her to be acting the way she was. She’d never considered herself a bigot, but she’d never even considered dating a black man before. And here she was, contemplating what Chris would taste like. If her father thought breaking her engagement to Max had been embarrassing to the family, he would have a stroke if she dated a black man, no matter how rich he was.

Justin Myers came from a good old southern family, with lots of old southern money. Just last week she’d heard an aunt refer to the Civil War as the War of Northern Aggression.

She set down her empty glass on a nearby table and arched her brow. “Are you having a good time, Mr. Dupree?”

His smile widened. “Are you going to ignore my question?”

Irritation lit through her, but she suppressed the urge to snap at him. It almost overwhelmed her, the need to tell him to go to hell and leave her alone. But twenty- nine years of lessons couldn’t be overcome by a little champagne. Besides, Cynthia had been raised not to confront problems. Her mother had always said it was better to smile and work your way around it. But more and more, especially because of the last few weeks, she found it harder to do. Almost thirty years of training down the drain. Just another symptom of spending time with Anna. She smiled.

“It wasn’t exactly a question, Mr. Dupree.”

Her voice had turned coy, all of its own accord. His eyes flared, just a bit, and his smile went from genial to seductive. She blinked as her thoughts scattered. A flush of warmth spread through her tummy and then ventured to the rest of her body.

She reached for another glass of champagne.

“I thought you said you would call me Chris.”

Ahhh, he had the best voice. Deep, almost lyrical, the flavor of New Orleans flowed through it. Each time he talked, she could almost feel fingers slide down her spine. She took a sip of champagne before answering.

“Sorry. It’s just my upbringing.”

He chuckled. “Oh, I know all about that, Ms. Cynthia. My mother didn’t allow any of her children to show disrespect.”

She didn’t know what to say to that. Apparently, she’d lost her ability to hold idle chit- chat, something she’d excelled at just the day before. It was this man’s fault. He was smiling at her, talking to her in a voice that promised lazy Sundays in bed.

Oh, bad idea, Cynthia. Don’t think about this man and bed. Sex with Chris Dupree was way out of her league. The man oozed sensuality with every move. He looked like a man who knew what he wanted and didn’t have a problem going after it. Max was like that. But where Max had made her nervous, Chris made her uncomfortable. Cynthia had a feeling that Chris would know just how to ease her discomfort, starting with those magnificent hands.

Heat flushed through her, her mind conjuring up images of the two of them. What was wrong with her? Hell, she didn’t even like the act. And why was she thinking about bedding this man? Or thinking of any man in that area? So what if just the thought of him wearing nothing but that smile made her nipples harden?

She cleared her throat. “Your mother sounds a lot like mine. Max said you grew up in New Orleans, but you live in Honolulu now?”

He nodded, his gaze never leaving her face. Oh, Lord, she was babbling. She shifted her feet, trying to ignore the dampness between her thighs. What on earth was wrong with her?

“Do I make you uncomfortable, Ms. Cynthia?” He stretched out her name, emphasizing the “Cyn” part of it. She had to hand it to the man— he knew how to make a woman pant.

And drool. She was tempted to wipe her mouth to check.

“Chris, I have an idea that you know exactly what you’re making me feel.”

His eyes widened in feigned innocence. “You think I’m doing it on purpose?”

She didn’t miss the deepening of his voice or the way his eyes skimmed down her body, pausing briefly in the area of her breasts. He had to know she was turned on. Her nipples were pressing against her blouse.

“I don’t think you do it on purpose. It probably just comes naturally.”

He threw back his head and laughed, the sound of it drawing the attention of people close by. Nerves already out of whack stretched thinner, and she drained her glass. She didn’t need this stress. It had been a hard few months, and now having a man whom she could never handle flirt with her— it was almost too much.

Then the absurdity of the situation hit her. This man wasn’t hitting on her. Men like him would never be interested in her. A bubble of laughter escaped before she could stop it.

Before she knew it, she’d joined him.

“Seems like you two are having a good time.”

Cynthia almost jumped as Max’s disapproving voice cut through their laughter. She looked back over her shoulder and almost laughed at the thunderous expression on his face.

He looked like a big brother. She would always see him as that, and would have even if they had married. Anna slipped around him and approached Cynthia and Chris.

“Good Lord, we can’t have that, Max. We spent a freaking fortune on the reception; people enjoying themselves is something we wouldn’t want.”

Anna winked at Cynthia. She couldn’t help it; Cynthia laughed again. When a waiter walked by with another tray of champagne glasses, Cynthia traded her empty one for a full one.

“Anna, Max is right. A Myers does not show enjoyment in public. One might think they were ... I don’t know ...” she said, leaning forward and almost falling down. “Human.”

She blew a lock of hair out of her eyes and straightened, losing her balance. Stepping back to steady herself, she came up against something very solid, very hard. Her body jumped to life again as arousal swept through her. Chris’s crisp, clean scent enveloped her senses. For a half a second— okay, a whole second— she thought about leaning against him, having his arms wrap around her, feeling his lips brush against her ear.

Anna laughed. “I think you should get something to eat, Cynthia.”

Cynthia shook her head and pulled away from Chris. If she stayed against him like that, she would end up embarrassing herself. And there was no need for that. She was a Myers. It simply wasn’t done ... although, it would be really nice to kiss him. His lips were full, sensuous, and Cynthia would bet her newest pair of Jimmy Choos the man would make her bones melt. And she had never been a melty kinda woman.

“I’m fine. Just need to slow down on the champagne.” With that announcement, she drained the glass of its contents and slammed it down on a nearby table. Her head felt slightly off balance, as if it were floating about three feet above her body.

“Cynthia, I think you need to sit down.” Max’s eyes clouded with concern.

She snorted. “I don’t need to sit down. I need to dance.”

Just then, the band began playing another waltz. She grabbed Max’s hand. “I’m borrowing your husband, Anna.”

She heard Anna’s laughter as Cynthia led Max to the dance floor and further away from the temptation Chris Dupree presented. Even as lightheaded as she was, she knew her life was beyond complicated. And Chris, with his sinfully beautiful body, was just one complication she needed to avoid.

Chapter Two

Chris watched as Max twirled Cynthia around the floor. His friend had more courage than he did. A woman who apparently had had nothing to eat, with that much champagne, would not hold on to it for very long. But Max didn’t seem to be in control of the situation, which was a little amusing.

“I guess I shouldn’t be so amused, but I can’t help it,” Anna said with a laugh.

Chris looked down at her and smiled. Again he was struck by just how well Anna suited Max. All through college, Max had been so controlled, and Chris could see how a woman like Anna would loosen Max up.

“You know, if she throws up, she’ll be mortified.” Anna sighed. “Why, I have no idea.”

He looked back out over the dance floor and laughed at the pained expression on Max’s face.

“You’ve lived in the South all your life, Anna. You should know better. Cynthia comes from a rich, white, southern family.”

She didn’t laugh like he thought she would. He looked down at her and noticed her attention was still snagged on Max and Cynthia dancing. Her brow wrinkled and she sighed again. “Cynthia takes it to the extreme. It can’t be healthy.” She sipped her champagne. “I’ve never seen a woman who showed so little emotion. Especially a southern woman. We take emotional outbursts to a whole new level. I consider it an unappreciated art form.”

He chuckled. “My mother sure can. Nothing like being cursed in three languages.

English, Southern, and Creole; my mother uses them all.”

Anna’s expression lightened, and she shot him a look out of the corner of her eye. “You sound like you’re close to your family.”

“That’s putting it mildly. I’m sure by the time I turn my phone back on, I’ll have had at least a dozen calls from my brothers and sisters, and a few from my mother.”

“Max said you had a large family.”

“Yes, and just like any tight- knit southern family, it seems like it’s twice as large as it really is.”

She laughed. “I was an only child, like Max, so I have no idea what a large family is like.”

His attention went back to Cynthia and Max. “What about Cynthia?”

“Youngest of two. She has an older brother, Randall, who is a real jackass.”

“No, really?”

Anna snorted. “Hard to imagine. But, yeah, he’s just like her father. Apparently, his parents did little to dissuade him from the notion that he’s king of south Georgia. Thankfully, he moved down to Jacksonville, where he is apparently ruling as the king of northern Florida. But he does show up every now and then to make Cynthia’s life hell.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, they aren’t happy that she isn’t married; the only thing a woman can do, ya know?” Sarcasm laced her words. “He either lets her know she failed the family by not marrying Max, or he brings one of his creepy friends to fix her up with. I know the last one was in his fifties.”

The need to find her brother and beat the hell out of him almost choked Chris. He took a drink of his champagne, and the urge lessened a bit, but it still simmered under the surface.

It wasn’t something he was used to. Yes, where his sisters were concerned he would hurt any man who hurt them, but he had never been particularly possessive of women with whom he was involved. And he wasn’t involved with Cynthia. The word “yet” whispered in his ear, and he shook his head. The woman looked to be a basket case, with too many problems. Pity.

“Oh, thank the good Lord. The song is over.” Anna grabbed his hand and tugged him along with her. “We better save the groom and his ex- fiancée. Besides, it’s about time for the bride to drag the groom off to have her way with him.”

As Max led her away from the dance floor, Cynthia realized the room was still spinning. It had been fun dancing with Max, even if her mind kept drifting back to the tall drink of water with Anna. Of course, it would have been a lot more fun without having Max griping at her.

“And another thing— you shouldn’t go so long without eating, Cynthia. You’re too skinny by far, and then you drank at least half a bottle of champagne! I’m amazed you can walk without falling on your face.”

Irritation crawled down her spine, and this time she didn’t repress it. When they reached Anna and Chris, she let loose. Turning toward Max, she shot him a dirty look.

Apparently the look was more potent than she thought, because Max’s eyebrows rose to his hairline. “You know, you have no right to tell me what I can and can’t do. If I want to strip and dance naked at your reception, I can. And besides, I’m not too skinny.”

“Max.” Anna’s voice was disapproving. She stepped beside Cynthia and put her arm around her shoulders. “Tell me you didn’t tell Cynthia she was too skinny.”

He pursed his lips. Cynthia knew he was annoyed, because he always did that when he was annoyed. It was odd, knowing the groom as well as she did. This was the first wedding she’d been to where she’d slept with the groom. She giggled and covered her mouth with her hand. But she couldn’t stop the bubble of laughter that rose, and it came out as a snort.

She tried to regain her composure, but now he was frowning at both of them. Anna leaned closer and whispered, “What are you laughing at?”

Knowing Anna would completely appreciate her thoughts, she said, in what she thought was a whisper, “I was just thinking that this is the first wedding I’ve attended where I’ve seen the groom naked.”

Anna’s mouth opened and closed, reminding Cynthia of the large- mouthed bass her father had mounted in his den. Cynthia had the most fabulous feeling that this might be the first time anyone had seen Anna without a comeback.

Then Anna burst out laughing. “Oh, my God, there is hope for you yet.” She herded Cynthia around some tables. “Come on, sister, we need to powder our noses.”

“I don’t know about that, but I really have to pee.”

And for some reason Anna started laughing again, but had herself under control by the time they reached the bathroom. Both women took care of business, then washed their hands. Suddenly, Anna reached over and locked the door.

“Anna, you can get in trouble for that.”

Anna laughed. It echoed off the walls of the bathroom, the sound bigger than the woman. Anna was big in spirit, always happy, always wanting to laugh. Cynthia realized Anna laughed a lot more than Cynthia ever had. She sighed, realizing she was coming off the high of the champagne.

“What’s the matter, Cynthia?”

“Nothing.” But the moment she said it, her eyes filled with tears.

“Oh, sweetie, I’m sorry. I didn’t think you would get depressed today. I thought you were over everything— ”

“Oh, no, I’m not really depressed, it’s just ... I had a scene with Father before I left to come here.”

Anna took her by the shoulders and turned Cynthia to face her. “What happened?”

Cynthia smiled at the worry in her friend’s voice. And that was how she viewed Anna.

A year ago, who would have thought they would have become such good friends?

“He didn’t want me coming.”

Anna snorted, and it made Cynthia smile. “That goes without saying. Your brother isn’t in town, is he?”

“No.” Thank God. “It wasn’t fun. Father wasn’t happy.”

She pulled away from Anna. Not because she didn’t need the comfort, but because she wasn’t good at accepting it. It was hard talking about family business. A Myers did not discuss personal problems with anyone. And she had heeded that mantra for years. If she had been able to discuss her feelings with Max, they could have saved themselves a heap of trouble and would have never gotten engaged.

“What did he threaten you with?”

Studying Anna, Cynthia wondered how much she could see beneath the surface. More than anyone ever had. Anna’s clear gaze was tinged with understanding.

“Nothing big.” She fingered the edge of her blouse. “He just kicked me out of the house.”

There was a beat of silence. “What will you do?”

She hadn’t really thought about it. With everything that had been going on, Cynthia had done her best to ignore the gnawing in her gut. Champagne on an empty stomach, especially with her ulcer, was probably not the best thing. Add the worry of being homeless, and she didn’t even want to think of the doctor bills.

“Not sure. I do have a trust from my grandmother on my mother’s side of the family. But, then, I have to find a place to live ... oh, and furniture.”

She turned away and busied herself with rewashing her hands. She knew it wasn’t her fault, but that didn’t stop the embarrassment. Heat crept up her neck and into her face.

“Tell you what. You can stay at my place. There’s a lot of Max’s old fuddy duddy furniture in there, and I haven’t rented it yet. You were going to be house- sitting anyway, so why not just rent it?”

For a second, Cynthia concentrated on washing her hands. When she finished, she dried them on a paper towel, then looked at Anna. The fact that she had accepted Cynthia, had forgiven her, still amazed Cynthia. A lump rose in her throat and she swallowed. This ... it went beyond letting bygones be bygones.

“Really?”

“Really. Now, let’s go round up our men and have some fun. I have plans for Max, and I am ready to leave.”

Cynthia laughed as she tried to put her face back to rights. “I have no man, Anna.”

“Honey, you may not think so, but Chris Dupree is definitely interested in you.”

An unexpected thrill shot through her, but the sensible Cynthia squashed it. No reason to get hot and bothered over a man who was too much for her to handle.

“No.”

Anna smiled smugly. “Yes, he is. He could barely take his eyes off you.”

“Even if he did, I couldn’t handle a man like Chris Dupree. The man is a walking wet dream.”

As soon as she said it, her face flushed, and Anna started laughing. “I must say, that sounds like something I would say. I like it. And, although I’ll deny it if you tell Max, I agree. Now, why not go take advantage of him?”

“Anna, I couldn’t do that.”

Anna studied her for a moment. “It isn’t because he’s black, is it?”

“Oh, no. It isn’t that. Although I can imagine what my family would say about it.”

“Then what is it?”

“Other than Max, there has only been one other guy, and I didn’t like it with him, either.”

Anna’s eyes widened. “You didn’t like sex with Max?”

“I don’t like sex, period.” She shrugged again, with the familiar feeling of rejection and failure. “It has to be something with me.”

Anna crossed her arms beneath her breasts and frowned. “You know, maybe it has to do with the men.”

“Oh, come on, Anna. First of all, you seem pretty happy with Max.” Anna smiled at that. “But I wasn’t. And the first one, Brett Simmons— well, he let me know when we broke up that I was a cold fish.”

“What I meant was that maybe because these were men your father picked out for you, you weren’t attracted to them. Maybe you need someone your father would disapprove of.”

“But I don’t know anyone like that.”

Anna unlocked the door and led them out of the bathroom. At the end of the hallway, both Chris and Max stood waiting for them. Max frowned. Chris’s mouth curled into a small smile, and Cynthia’s heart did a flip- flop.

Anna leaned closer. “There’s someone who could really show you a good time, and I would say he’s someone your father would not suggest you date.”

“He lives in Honolulu, Anna.”

“Even better— a one- night stand.”

Cynthia tried to disapprove, but there was something about the idea that excited her.

She had never been a one- night- stand kind of woman. It just wasn’t done. She looked at Chris and watched his gaze slide down her body and then back up again. Heat flared from her stomach and spread to her sex. She shifted her legs, trying to get rid of all the tingles. It just made it worse. Her damp panties rubbed against her sensitized skin. Her knees went weak.

Lordy.

Anna nudged her in the ribs. “Come on, Cynthia. How often do you get a chance like this?”

“I need a few drinks.”

“Tell you what,” Anna said as she pulled Cynthia along with her, “Chris needs a ride back to the hotel. Take him, along with a couple of bottles of champagne.”

Cynthia licked her lips as Anna released her and grabbed Max, dragging him off. She heard Max asking questions and Anna telling him to mind his own damn business.

“Anna says you need a ride.” When his smile widened, she realized what she’d said. “Back to the hotel.”

He nodded. “Are you offering me a ride?”

The way his voice deepened over the word ride made her lose her train of thought. The idea of sitting on his lap, riding him ... She swallowed.

“If you’re interested.” Dang, when did her voice go all husky like that? And when did she start using the word dang? Lord, she’d drunk too much.

His lips twitched. “You bet.”

“Let me pick up a couple of things, and I’ll meet you around front.”

He nodded again. As she walked away from him, she could feel his gaze on her, sending another jolt of arousal speeding through her body. Her nipples tightened against the fabric of her dress.

She grabbed a bottle of champagne and her purse, and released what was left of her sanity. For once, Miss Cynthia Myers was going to go with instinct rather than upbringing.

As she rounded the corner of the club, she saw Chris leaning against one of the columns. For just a second, she panicked. Just what the hell was she thinking? This was completely out of character for her. She shouldn’t be doing this, or even thinking it. Being homeless, jobless— those things were important. Jumping the bones of the most delicious man she’d ever met was not.

She must have moved, because he noticed her and smiled. She felt it all the way to her toes. Pushing those reservations aside, she decided that for once she needed a little fun.

Cynthia Myers needed to let loose. And she was sure Chris Dupree was just the man to help her.

Chris watched Cynthia pour the champagne into the paper cup and tried to remember if there was an open- container law in Georgia. When they had first approached her car, he’d taken the keys from her, making sure not to allow her to drive. He’d thought by the time they made it to the hotel, she would be more sober.

She topped off the cup and then planted the bottle between her legs. Fortunately for him, she had to pull up her dress to accomplish it. The woman had a set of legs that he’d kill to have wrapped around his waist. His cock twitched at the thought. Gripping the steering wheel tighter, he turned his attention back to the road. He’d be lucky if he didn’t pass out from loss of blood.

“You know,” she said and paused to hiccup, then leaned in closer as if to whisper. Instead she almost yelled in his ear. “This is the first time I wasn’t the designated driver.”

“Really? I’d never have guessed it. You seem like an experienced drinker.”

She shot him a look out of the corner of her eye and snorted. “Little do you know, I have only been drunk once before this. And it was an accident.”

He couldn’t let that comment go by. “An accident?”

“Yes, see. I have this thing for chocolate.”

He waited for her to continue while he took the exit for his hotel. When she didn’t explain further, he asked, “What does chocolate have to do with liquor?”

She finished off her cup, making many large slurping noises that he was sure would embarrass her later when she remembered. If she remembered.

“That’s where the alcohol was, silly.”

Then she giggled. Damn, she was cute when she drank. He knew she would be horrified when she sobered up, but with her hair mussed and that sloppy smile curving her lips, she was irresistible. He wanted to start at her feet and nibble his way up her body.

Damn, he was going to have to sober her up some way. While he did, he had to keep his hands off her. And considering the “almost there” boner he was sporting, that was going to be ... difficult.

He cleared his throat as he tried to think of what they had been talking about. “So, you ate some chocolate and got drunk. When was this?”

“Christmas, my freshman year at Valdosta State. Lord, I got so drunk, and just off of rum balls. And you know what?”

When she didn’t continue, he realized she hadn’t meant it to be rhetorical. “What?”

She looked at him, squinting with one eye as if she were trying to figure out if it were him, or if a few others had joined him. “I think that’s why I lost my virginity. Brett was really cute, and we were going to some dance, and I thought, ‘no big deal.’” She snorted. “No big deal, for sure. And he blamed me. I mean, I was the virgin; you would think a senior would know what he was about.”

His thoughts scattered, thinking about her and sex. Hell, he didn’t need much help in thinking about that. The woman might dress like a priss, but when she drank, there was a sensuality to her, from the sway of her hips to the way she smiled. Her sensuality was restrained, making it all the more tempting to unwrap her and watch her explode.

Dangerous, Chris. The woman was drunk, and he never took advantage of a woman in her condition unless he matched it.

He pulled into the parking lot of his hotel and found a parking space not too far from the entrance. After getting out and rounding the back end of the car, he opened Cynthia’s door. He moved fast to catch her as she almost fell on her ass.

“Well, thank you, kind sir.”

He righted her, his hands at her waist. She giggled again.

“You know, I’ve been wondering what it would feel like to have your hands on me.”

Arousal did a sharp upward turn, as did his cock. She leaned against him, wiggling her backside. Her skirt was thin, and with her pressing against him the way she was, another shot of heat sent his arousal soaring. His mouth went dry even as he tried to swallow. Sweat broke out on his forehead as he thought about standing behind her, sliding his cock up her tight ass.

Really not good.

He bit back an oath and reached around to close the car door. Then he pulled her away from him, making sure there was space between their bodies.

Looking down at her, he laughed. Her hair had passed styled about three cups earlier.

“Why don’t we have a little coffee before you go home?”

She stepped back, bumped into her car, and then crossed her arms beneath her breasts and frowned at him. “I don’t have a home anymore.”

He sighed, knowing this was going to be hard. Cynthia was definitely not his type, but there was something attractive about her disgruntled expression. He knew he was in trouble then. When a woman looking mean at you turned you on, you were in big trouble, or so his father claimed.

“Listen. We’ll worry about home later. Let’s drink some coffee and see how you’re feeling.”

“No.”

At first, he didn’t react. Being the oldest of five siblings, he wasn’t used to having his orders thwarted. Especially by a woman who stood about half a foot shorter than him, weighed less than a feather, and was drunk because her ex- fiancé had gotten married. But, being in the restaurant business, he knew how to handle a drunk. Even one who was screwing with his ability to think with his big brain and not his little one.

“No, you don’t want coffee?”

She shook her head. “I’m not going anywhere without my champagne. Anna gave it to me.” Her bottom lip curved out in a perfect pout.

Knowing it would be best to placate her, he shooed her aside and opened the door.

After grabbing the champagne bottle, he slammed the door shut, took her by the arm, and hurried her inside.

“Thank you, Chris.”

Her tone had turned placating, as if he were a three- year- old who needed to be soothed. A strange mixture of irritation and amusement swept through him. He wouldn’t be surprised if she patted his head.

They walked through the lobby to the elevators. He was doing his damnedest to ignore the fact that his hand was on her bare skin. As they stepped into the elevator, another couple boarded, and she had to move closer to him. The scent of her was driving him crazy.

Something flowery, like gardenias. He usually hated those kinds of perfumes, but there was just a hint of it on her skin, and it suited the woman. The thought of it on her sheets in the morning, as they lingered in bed, was tempting. Too tempting.

The other couple got off on the second floor, and as soon as they reached the third floor, he grabbed her by the arm again and pulled her out of the elevator. She stumbled and then giggled at her clumsiness. He didn’t slow down, just pulled her down the hall to his room.

Once there, he released her to pull out his key card. As he reached into his pocket, she stepped behind him and slipped her free arm around his waist. He grabbed his key, resisting the urge to give his cock a nice long stroke through his pants. Chris figured he deserved it, especially because he could feel her breasts pressed against his back, her hard nipples through their layers of clothing. Lord knew he was going to be taking care of himself later, because he didn’t see any way of relieving the tension she’d built in him, other than finding another woman or jacking off. Her hand slid up his chest, caressing one nipple, then the other, through his shirt. His fingers fumbled on the card, almost dropping it. As he inserted it into the slot, Cynthia’s fingers danced back down his torso, past his abdomen.

He cursed because it took him three times to get the key to work. When the door finally opened, her hand was sliding down to his cock. Chris stumbled over the threshold, breaking free of her hold. Not that it had been that demanding. If he were honest with himself, he would have gladly stood there all day. And that made him madder. She was easily testing his control, something many women had tried and failed.

Turning, he shot her a mean look. She leaned against the closed door, trying to open the bottle of champagne again. When she noticed his narrowed gaze, she laughed.

“Mr. Dupree.” Her voice dripped with southern seduction. “I do believe you are trying to scare me.”

The lust that had simmered all evening exploded into a full boil. Damn, she was smiling at him, those dimples in full force. He didn’t need this kind of temptation. It’d been a while since he’d had a woman, or even been that attracted to one. Distance was what he needed. He rested a hand on each of his hips and tried to look even meaner. She erupted in a fit of giggles, laughing so hard that she lost her balance. She fell on the floor, emitting a squeak when she landed.

It took her several moments to compose herself, but when she did, she said between snorts, “Chris, you can stop trying. You’re too sweet- looking to be mean.”

Exasperated, he rummaged through the dresser and then the desk until he found the room- service menu. He didn’t like the look in her eyes when she said sweet, as if she were talking about more than his personality. The thought didn’t disturb him as much as the fact that he wanted to break his rule about drunk women. That, or drink a bottle of Jack Daniels to catch up with her. After ordering coffee, he removed his tie and drew in a cleansing breath. It dawned on him that the room had grown suspiciously quiet. Turning, he checked the floor to see if Cynthia had passed out, and panicked when he didn’t see her there.

Then he noticed the bathroom light on and walked to see what she was up to. Lord only knew, with the amount of alcohol she had swimming through her. He found her sitting on the edge of the bathtub, drinking yet another glass of champagne.

He leaned against the doorjamb, watching as she precariously balanced herself and tried to drink. She had lost her jacket, as well as her shoes, somewhere along the way.

“You’re going to feel like hell tomorrow.”

She looked up at him, one eye closed tightly. “Well, I don’t now.”

He laughed, and she smiled, her dimples winking at him.

“Chris?” She lowered her head, but he could tell she was looking up at him through her lashes. The action dripped of coyness, something he usually disdained. But there was an air of innocence to it, as if she didn’t realize what she was doing. Again, not his style, but everything about this woman affected him. And that disturbed him more than anything else.

“Cynthia?” Even to his own ears, his voice had grown huskier.

She paused, her tongue darting out, gliding along her bottom lip. He bit back the groan that rose in his throat.

“Do you think you’d mind if I licked you up one side and down the other?”

Chapter Three

The silence in the bathroom would normally have had Cynthia moving to fill the uncomfortable pause. Unfortunately, since she’d met the man, her usual social skills had fallen by the wayside. From the moment Max first introduced them, she’d been acting like the worst idiot. So, she figured propositioning him was the cherry on top of the sundae.

As he stood there, his face without expression, she realized she may have shocked him.

Cynthia Myers was not the type of woman who offered to lick men’s bodies, especially those of men she had just met. But there was something there, something she wanted to feel, something she wanted to do with him. To him.

It was shocking, to say the least. With only two lovers in her past, she’d never really had feelings like this before. It was as if someone had lit a match to her soul. All she knew was that it was important that she make this work. Desperation clawed at her, pushed her to the edge. Odd, as she had never had these yearnings before. She figured she’d sort out why later, but now she knew she wanted Chris.

“You’ve had too much to drink.”

She glanced up at him, saw the heat in his eyes, and knew he wanted her. It baffled her, but he did, and she didn’t care why or for how long. Even with need etched in his face, burning in his gaze, he was frowning at her. Great. I finally decide to throw caution to the wind, and I pick a six- foot dream of a man with a conscience.

“I haven’t had too much to drink.” As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she wobbled on the ledge of the bathtub, losing her balance and almost falling backward. Chris stepped forward and grabbed her, pulling her up and saving her from the fall, but spilling champagne on both of them.

She ended up against him, their wet clothes sticking to their skin, making it very easy to feel the contours of his chest. Sighing in appreciation, she splayed her free hand against his chest. Heat shot through her, her nipples pebbling beneath the damp fabric of her blouse.

His breathing deepened, his chest moving slower beneath her hand. As she slid her hand up over his pecs, she felt his heart beating, fast and hard. She shifted her feet to stand in front of him, her stomach brushing against his groin. She stilled, marveling at the hard shaft pulsing against her. He groaned when she pushed against him harder.

“Cynthia, you are pushing me too far.”

She laughed with little humor. “I don’t think so, Chris.”

He stepped away from her, breaking contact. A rush of coolness swept over her skin, into her blood.

“I’m serious, Cynthia. You’re a beautiful woman, and you’ve had too much to drink, especially on a day you saw your ex get married.”

Irritation washed through her because, once again, a man was telling her what she needed. She couldn’t win. Jesus, all she wanted was a night of anonymous sex with a man who interested her far more than was good for her soul.

She settled her hands on her hips and glared at him. “Listen, the only thing I felt today was happiness for Anna and Max.”

“Cynthia, please, even if you are happy for them, it had to hurt a little.”

The pity and understanding she heard in his voice, saw in his eyes, embarrassed her.

And increased her irritation.

“Listen, I understand.” She grabbed her jacket, then brushed past him, intent on finding her car keys and going to Anna’s. Her body still tingled with arousal, and her mind still spun from champagne, but she would not stay there and be humiliated. She stopped to shove her arms into the sleeves of her jacket. “Figures the one time I decide to do something like this, I get a jackass with morals. I can’t even pick men who are amoral. I have to pick a bloody saint.”

A sharp knock at the door stopped her tirade. Chris, who had followed her, answered the door without commenting. He stepped aside and allowed the waiter to bring in the tray.

After the young man set it on the table in front of the window, he handed Chris the bill, which he signed. After thanking him, Chris closed the door and turned to face her.

“You were saying?”

She growled, which should have shocked her— a Myers never growled. But what shocked her more was the pleased look on Chris’s face.

“Nothing. Where are my keys?”

His gaze traveled down her body, and as before, she felt his attention as if his hands were on her skin. She could almost imagine his fingers trailing down her body, gliding over her breasts, his thumbs touching her nipples. Unwillingly, her body reacted. Her pulse jumped, heat blazed a path where his gaze had touched, and the muscles in her stomach contracted. By the time he met her gaze, she was trying to resist the urge to wiggle to ease the pressure between her legs.

“You shouldn’t drive without having something to eat or some coffee, and taking some time to sober up.”

She gritted her teeth, trying her best not to yell. Every man she had known in her life tried to tell her what to do. Even someone she’d planned on using for her one sexual thrill was giving her orders. Her body was throbbing with arousal so strong, it surprised her she didn’t pass out.

When she finally composed herself, her voice was low and threatening. “I. Said. Where. Are. My. Keys.”

He pursed his lips, and dammit, it made her want to kiss him, made her long to feel his mouth move over her skin.

“In my pocket.”

She would have to be an idiot not to hear the deepening of his voice, his New Orleans accent growing more pronounced. It caused her heart to beat harder, her body to heat. She could just imagine hearing that voice in the dark as he whispered in her ear.

Not trusting herself to get too close, she held out her hand.

Chris, damn him, shook his head. “Come get them.” Challenge threaded his voice.

She decided this was not a good turn of events. “Excuse me?”

He straightened away from the door, but made no move to approach her. Her gaze traveled down his body to his groin. Excitement lanced through her as she saw the state of his arousal.

“I said to come and get them.”

She worried her bottom lip with her teeth. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to do it. Her body pulsed with a strange mix of arousal and fear— strange because it was new to her. Most of the time, when confronted with a decision like this, she automatically did what was expected. For a woman brought up in the sterile environment of the Myers house, that would mean not taking him up on the challenge. But now, alone with Chris, she didn’t have to do what other people wanted. She could do what she wanted.

“It’s not a major decision, Cynthia. Just slip your hand in my pocket and take them. It’s up to you to make the decision.” His lips curved. “Decide what you want.”

He did that thing with her name again where he emphasized the first syllable. She knew part of it was seduction, part of it was challenge. And there was part of her who thought that maybe he was hoping a direct challenge would send her running away.

Gathering her courage, she walked to him, stopping within inches of touching him. She tipped her head back, angling her chin in defiance.

Without breaking eye contact— and he did have the most beautiful eyes, dark brown, threaded with sparks of gold— she reached into his right pocket. When she found it empty, she narrowed her eyes. He laughed.

“I never said it was in that pocket.”

Oh, so he wanted to play games, she thought. Of course, men like him loved to play games. It pleased them to control everything. She was sick of it. Sick of being the one who reacted to everything around her, instead of being the one who caused the reactions. And damned if the idea of dragging control away from him didn’t turn her on more. Still, there was a part of her that was irritated. Rational thought dissolved as she thought of how she’d allowed men to make decisions for her all her life. Men looked at her and saw a fragile flower without a brain, a woman who couldn’t stand up for herself. For once, she refused to let it go. He deserved a little punishment. She shifted her hand over an inch and stroked his cock ... just once. His smile faded, his eyes heated, and every muscle tensed. Triumph flashed through her.

Casually, she pulled her hand out, grazing the top of his penis with her index finger.

He sucked in a breath, and she smiled. Something grew inside her chest. It wasn’t arousal, although it did add an edge to that. It was something else, something that made her feel more confident ... powerful.

“So,” she said, leaning closer, taking a deep breath. God, he smelled good. There was a hint of his cologne, something musky; but there was another scent that she knew was all him. Something so sensual it made her mouth water thinking about what his skin would taste like. It made her head spin, her blood heat, her pussy drip. She couldn’t think of him as anything but a huge sweet she wanted to take a bite out of. “You have the keys in your other pocket?”

She stepped beside him, pulling her hand across the front of his trousers, lightly caressing him as she passed by his cock. He leaned his head back against the door and closed his eyes. She watched as he took a few deep breaths and swallowed, hard.

“Why don’t you find out?”

Again, there was challenge in his voice. This time, though, she could tell he hoped she would take him up on it. There was a little space between him and the door, and she slid one leg behind him. She leaned against him, allowing her breast to press against the back of his arm. With the slightest movement, she rubbed against him. His muscle contracted beneath her breast, and she smiled. He was trying his best to control himself. Wanting to push him a little further and see his reaction, she slipped her hand into his left pocket. She inched her fingers down, massaging the skin beneath the lining of the pocket.

Chris shifted restlessly. She paused until he stilled again. Once he did, she continued her exploration, ignoring the fact that she knew damn well her keys weren’t in this pocket, either. As before, a sense of power enveloped her, pushing her arousal further. She’d never been one to initiate. Not once, in all the time she’d been with him, had she pleasured Max.

Sex was something always done to her. This was different. This sent another jolt of electric current racing through her blood, pulsing with desire. As she shifted closer, she felt the dampness of her panties, her pussy clenching when she touched his cock again.

God, she couldn’t wait to see him without clothes. Through the thin fabric, she traced the length of him to the flared head. A drop of pre- cum dampened her finger. He shuddered in reaction.

“You lied, Chris. There are no keys in your pocket.” She tried to sound censorious, but arousal threaded her words. With one last stroke of her finger across the top of his shaft, she pulled her hand out, then stepped around him. Not daring to turn around, she walked further into the room, feeling his gaze slip down her back and concentrate on her ass. The fact that she’d captured his attention almost overwhelmed her. She was positive nothing else crowded his mind but the thought of getting her into bed. She’d never had that kind of hold over any other man. Instead of being frightened by it, she felt her desire soar.

“Cynthia.” His voice came out as a groan ... a plea. She tried not to smile, but it was hard.

Slowly, she turned and found him standing just where she had left him. Considering the way his pants were tented, there was no doubt about his arousal. But still he tried to resist, and that not only angered her, but excited her as well. Just thinking of bringing him to his knees, metaphorically, was in and of itself arousing.

“What? You want to pretend you’re not aroused?” She tsked. “Really, Chris, I felt that cock.”

His eyes widened slightly, and she knew she’d shocked him. She’d sure shocked the hell out of herself.

“You’ve had too much to drink.”

So, he was going to worry about that. “I’m pretty sober right now.” Even though her head was spinning, she was sure it had to do with the situation and not the vat of champagne she’d drunk.

“I ...”

He trailed off when she slipped off her jacket, tossing it on the chair beside her. She bent over to remove her shoes, knowing the cut of her blouse probably allowed him to see a good portion of her breasts. When she straightened, he was still stuck to the door, his nostrils flaring.

“Chris, come here.”

He hesitated a moment, but then approached her. Another shock of power flashed through her. No one ever did what she told them to. Even asking nicely had crappy results.

He stopped within inches of her, his scent capturing her again. She’d always noticed men’s cologne before, but there was something so basic, so primal about Chris’s scent. It called to her, slinked under her skin, sank into her soul.

Stepping aside, she grabbed his hand, pulling him along behind her. She eased him into sitting on the edge of the bed and then stepped between his legs.

He reached for her, and she shook her head. “Put your hands on the bed.” He looked to argue until she added, “You touch me now, and I won’t do what I want to.”

In a flash, he put them palms down on the bed. As she reached for the buttons on his shirt, she noticed her fingers trembling. It wasn’t fear, because for once this felt right. It might be all the alcohol, and if so, she should just become an alcoholic. She unbuttoned the shirt, pushing aside the edges to reveal an expanse of light brown skin.

Wanting to see his entire chest, she eagerly shoved his shirt off his shoulders. She let it fall around his wrists, then placed her hands on his chest. The muscles she’d earlier assumed were there were better than anything she’d imagined. Even feeling them beneath the wet fabric had not prepared her.

She lightly traced the contours of his chest with her fingers. She circled his nipples, then pinched them, pleased when he groaned. There was a smattering of hair— not much, but a line of it trailed down his stomach and disappeared into his pants. He was so hard, she could see the outline of his cock beneath his slacks.

Licking her lips, she undid his belt, then unfastened his pants. When she unzipped them, she allowed the backs of her fingers to trail along the length of his cock. It twitched against her hand. She pushed aside the fabric, revealing his penis. The engorged head was a shade darker than the rest of his cock, a drop of cum wetting the head. Reaching out with her index finger, she trailed down from the head of his cock to the hard length of him.

The only sound in the room was his indrawn breath. He moved his legs, lifting his hands slightly. The moment he did, she pulled her hand back and frowned at him. He watched her, his eyes narrowed, his breathing deep.

“Chris, I said to keep your hands on the bed.”

She could see his irritation. He clenched his jaw. Fascinated, she watched defiance mixed with arousal lighten his eyes. After a silent battle, he seemed to come to some decision and slapped his hands back down on the bed.

“That’s nice.”

He growled, but didn’t say a word. Oh, my, this was fun. Wanting to see how far she could push him, she stepped back a few feet, just out of reach. She grabbed the hem of her shirt and slowly pulled it off. Throwing it behind her, not caring where it landed, she then captured his gaze, challenging him. She wanted to see how long it would take before he would be tempted to dip his gaze to the rest of her body.

Reaching behind her, she slowly unfastened her bra, shivering as the cool air drifted over her body. The room was chilly, but until that moment she had not noticed just how hot her skin was. Letting the bra fall to the floor, she never broke eye contact. But the moment her breasts were bare, he lost a little control when his gaze dropped to her breasts. She’d never been that well endowed, but it had never really bothered her until this moment. His tongue darted out, licking his lips. Her imagination didn’t have to work hard to conjure an image of his tongue gliding along her skin. Cynthia was sure he would know just how to use it.

Her nipples tightened almost painfully. Oh, Lord. It took every bit of control not to touch them. It would give her some relief, she knew, but she really longed to have his hands on them, his fingers caressing her.

She unzipped her skirt, then let it drift to the floor. She stepped out of it, kicked it to the side, and smiled at Chris. He wasn’t even looking at her. His gaze was fastened on the tiny panties she was wearing. Those, and the pale thigh- high stockings. Both were the only indulgence she had given herself. The pink thong barely covered the important parts. Anna had convinced her to buy the lacy confection when they’d gone shopping and had insisted the thigh- high stockings were essential. Cynthia decided she owed Anna a world of thanks.

If the look in Chris’s eyes was anything to go by, every penny had been worth it.

She was only a few feet from him, but when she approached him, she walked slowly.

His fingers curled into the bedspread. Excitement lanced through her. Stepping between his legs again, she smiled down at him. He really was adorable.

“You shouldn’t be doing this, Cynthia.”

She could almost hear how hard it had been for him to give her this last out. It was as if he had to clear his conscience. The saint was doing battle with the sinner inside.

She shook her head. “Chris, normally I would agree. I’m not a one- night- stand kind of girl.” He opened his mouth, and the expression on his face told her he was ready to argue with her. She stopped any further comment by lightly touching her fingers to his mouth.

“No. I want no promises; I want no recriminations. After tonight, I doubt we’ll see each other again.”

She saw the need to disagree in his eyes, but he nodded. Something told her he would argue, given half the chance. He was a stubborn man, but for once in her life, she was going to be more stubborn.

“Now, take off your shirt.” He complied, his muscles flexing enticingly as he slid the shirt from around his wrists. Cynthia’s heart smacked against her chest. Damn, the man was built. Max had been in good shape, but there was something different about Chris. He was just about as tall as Max, just as muscled, but while Max had reminded her of a linebacker, Chris was more like a swimmer. He was more sinewy, his muscles leaner, more sculpted. She curled her fingers into the palms of her hands, trying not to reach out, grab him, and take full advantage of that erection he had sported for her.

Even just thinking it made her face burn. Again, Anna was to blame. She said exactly what she was thinking. Now she had Cynthia thinking it, but thankfully not saying it out loud. Yet.

When Chris freed his wrists, she had a moment of panic. She wanted him, but what if the same problems returned, her inability to enjoy the act?

“Cynthia?”

His gentle tone told her he must have seen her panic. There was nothing condescending or derogatory in his voice for showing her weakness. Instead, he offered understanding, just by saying her name.

Arousal now mixed with something more dangerous. Tenderness. She couldn’t get attached to him. He was leaving. But she was determined to enjoy him while she had the chance.

Without breaking eye contact, she took his face into her hands and bent her head, giving in to the need that had been clawing at her since she’d first seen him. Lightly, she brushed her lips against his. Satisfaction filled her as pleasure filled his eyes. Once, twice, three times, she moved her mouth against his. Then his eyes drifted shut as she pressed harder, his own lips opening immediately, allowing her tongue to steal inside.

Lordy. He tasted better than she’d hoped. Soon, she lost control of the kiss as he began to match her, tangling his tongue with hers. Her hands moved to his hair, then to the back of his head, trying to somehow get closer to devour him. Nothing in her life had been this delicious, this wonderful. Cynthia broke the kiss, pulling slightly away from him. Both of them were breathing heavily. She swallowed, gathering up her courage for her next demand.

It wasn’t easy to say the words aloud. This little game had her aroused for the first time in the presence of a man, and there was no way she could stop now. She had to discover if it was real.

“Take off my panties.”

Chapter Four

Chris paused for just a second as he gathered his control. He didn’t want to slide those cotton- candy panties down. He wanted to rip them off, throw her on the bed, and sink his cock into her pussy. She would no doubt be tighter than a fist, her muscles clamping down on his cock. But he restrained himself. This wasn’t about him, about his pleasures. Watching Cynthia gain confidence through her little play of domination was more arousing than anything he’d ever watched. Through her pleasure, he would gain his own.

As he reached out, his fingers trembled. For good reason. He was worried just one touch and he would lose it. The woman had him so close. He would bet she didn’t even realize the extent of her power over him. Slipping his thumbs beneath the lacy ridge of her panties, his fingers brushed against her bare ass. Jesus Christ, she was wearing a thong. He’d have loved to see her in it from behind. She was a small woman. The skirt had outlined her curves, showing off her world- class ass. He almost passed out at the memory of it rubbing against his cock. Swallowing, he pulled himself together and gently tugged on the panties. As he moved them down her legs, he skimmed his fingers against her thigh- highs. By the time he reached her ankles, his whole body fairly vibrated with need. His dick throbbed, his balls ached, and his brain was no longer functioning. All the blood in his big head had rushed downward.

Daintily— because Cynthia did everything that way, even when she was ordering him about— she stepped out of the panties. When he straightened, the thatch of curly blonde hair, a shade darker than that on her head, caught his attention. Neatly trimmed, the curls were wet with her arousal, the musky scent filling his senses. Damn, she smelled good.

“Chris.”

He loved the way she said his name. Long, lazy, southern. It wound its way done his spine, sent his heartbeat out of control. He looked up and smiled, hoping to placate her. She was frowning at him, that wrinkle appearing between her eyebrows. In the few short hours he had known her, he had found himself noticing small mannerisms that most people probably overlooked. He noticed things about women all the time, but Cynthia didn’t seem to be able to hide her feelings from him. He had a feeling she’d masked them for years. It gave him satisfaction to know that she couldn’t do that with him. Whether it was the alcohol, or just him, it didn’t matter. All he cared about was that he was the lucky bastard she had chosen for her wild night of sex.

“Yes, Cynthia?”

She drew in a deep breath and swallowed. For all her bravado, he knew this was hard for her. The power was intoxicating; he knew that from personal experience. But for someone like Cynthia, someone who had no experience in this sort of thing, it could be just as frightening.

“You’re wearing too many clothes.” The words came out in a whispered rush, as if she were afraid of saying what she desired. Chris was sure he could teach her that there was nothing wrong with what she wanted.

He couldn’t stop the little smile that statement caused. “And what would you have me do about it?”

She stepped back, the outsides of her thighs brushing his. His skin already burned with the need to be caressed by her hands, by her mouth. The fabric of his pants moved against his inner thighs and his balls, increasing his arousal. Jesus. Another jolt of heat rushed through him. A little touch, and he was ready to explode. He resisted the urge to give his cock one stroke, because he wasn’t sure he wouldn’t blow his load with that one pump.

“Stand up.” This time her voice was just a little more forceful, more confident. And damn if there wasn’t another burst of lust warming his blood at that sound.

He complied, his pants undone, hanging on his hips. She moved around him, gently urging him to step away from the bed. The bedsprings squeaked as she sat down.

“You can turn around.”

He did, knowing the rules of the game even if she didn’t. When he saw her reclining on the bed, one arm over her head, those pretty pink nipples hard and pointing right at him, it was hard not to say fuck the game and jump her right then and there. She must have seen something in his face because when he met her gaze, her eyes widened. He curled his fingers into his palms.

Her gaze slipped down his body, her breath hitching when she reached his groin. She licked her lips, and his dick twitched, another drop of cum rising to wet the head again.

She cleared her throat. “Now, take off your pants.” He grabbed the waistband of his pants, but she stopped him with her next comment. “And do it slowly.”

Her last statement came out more like a command. Arousal, already high, took a sharp turn north. She was lying there on the bed, wearing nothing but a pair of thigh- highs, tossing orders at him.

As she’d ordered, he slid his pants down, keeping eye contact as he did. Once he’d tossed them off to the side, along with his socks, he straightened. She licked her lips again.

She was going to drive him crazy with that tongue. He could imagine it gliding down his chest, past his stomach, to his— “Turn around.”

Again, he was struck by the command in her voice. She was gaining confidence and driving him crazy in the process. He did as instructed. When he turned so that he faced away from the bed, he stopped. The bed creaked as she moved. His breath caught in his throat as she neared him. Chris didn’t need the sound of her approach to tell him she was near. Her feminine musk mixed with her perfume was strong enough for him to smell, but there was also something else, something almost electric in him when she was near. As if Cynthia flipped a switch within him just by being close.

“Back up a bit.”

The instant he got close, her hands were on him. At first, they glided down his back.

When they reached his ass, she hesitated, then continued on. He heard her breathing deepen as her fingers whispered across his skin.

“Oh, my.” He barely heard her comment, but he heard it all the same. She continued to murmur her approval as she bent forward. Her hair brushed against him as she touched her lips to the fullest part of one ass cheek. It was an open- mouthed caress, her tongue swiping along his skin. She moved from one to the other, her hand replacing her tongue as she went along.

Slowly, she worked her way up his back. As her mouth moved against his skin, the words she’d said earlier echoed in his mind. Her tongue darted out before each kiss. By the time she reached his shoulder, Chris felt the scrape of her teeth.

He’d done a lot in the bedroom, tried just about every scenario his mind or any of his partners’ could conjure up, but never in his life had he felt this. It was as if she were savoring him, tasting him like a forbidden treat. Her hands slid around his waist and then moved up to his chest as she pressed her body against his back. Murmuring incoherently beneath her breath, she nipped at his earlobe, then licked. The action caused him to curl his toes into the carpet. By the time she moved to the other ear, her fingers were caressing his nipples, pinching them slightly. His knees went a little weak.

Much to his disappointment, she stopped. She scooted around him and stood; then, completely taking him by surprise, she pushed him. Not being prepared, he lost his balance and fell onto the bed, bouncing once before she pounced on him. She straddled his hips, placed her hands on either side of his head, and grinned down at him. Her hair was even more out of control than before; her eyes were filled with desire. This wasn’t the timid creature he’d met earlier in the day. This was a temptress. And he was going to reap the rewards.

Her hips gyrated, her pussy pressing against his cock. He closed his eyes, trying to ignore the damp heat of her. Temptation beckoned. Chris knew he was moments from slipping into her sweet cunt and finding satisfaction. She moved away from him, sitting up, pressing her sex harder against his dick.

He opened his eyes, and his mouth went dry. She’d crossed her arms beneath her breasts. There was no way for him to resist. Sitting up, he reversed their positions and fastened his mouth on her breast the moment she was settled. Sweet Jesus, she tasted good.

As he moved to her other breast, her legs shifted restlessly against him. He grazed his teeth against her nipple. She gasped, then moaned when he did it a second time.

He moved down her body, his own throbbing, begging for release. But Cynthia’s pleasure came first. Soft as a rose petal, the skin of her stomach quivered as he dipped his tongue into her navel. When he reached her dripping pussy, he leaned forward and drew in a deep breath. Sweet, musky, her scent sent his mind spinning.

Looking up at her, he waited. She’d pulled herself up to her elbows. She nodded.

Without breaking eye contact, he leaned forward and licked her slit. Moaning, she allowed her head to fall back, her eyes drifting closed. He placed a hand on each thigh, pushing them wider; then he slipped his tongue between her folds. Her taste exploded in his mouth. Sweet, with a hint of sass, just like the woman herself, and he couldn’t get enough of her. As he continued to lick her, he slipped one finger into her cunt. Holy Mother of God. Her muscles clamped down on his finger with the grip of a linebacker. He couldn’t wait to slip his cock into her pussy.

Her legs moved restlessly by his head, and she pushed up against his mouth. As her moans grew louder, he could feel the tension within her grow, tighten, push to the edge. He knew she was close, so he pressed his thumb against her clit once ... twice ...

She exploded, her body convulsing with her orgasm. He pulled back, continuing to caress her as she came, but enjoying the sight of her was too much to resist. Her eyes were closed, her hair tangled against the bed, her mouth open and moaning his name. The sight was almost as satisfying as if it were his own orgasm. Just moments later, she settled, her body going limp. Knowing he would not survive another incident like that, he practically jumped off the bed, grabbed his wallet, and pulled out a condom.

In record time, he had it on and had returned to the bed. He covered her body with his. Cynthia opened her eyes halfway and smiled at him. His heart flipped and took a dive at the sight of her lips curving with satisfaction, her body loose- limbed from her orgasm.

He bent his head and took her lips in an open- mouthed kiss. Cynthia responded immediately, her tongue tangling with his. As he devoured her mouth, he slid his hands down to her hips, angling them the way he liked. She protested when he pulled away, but he would not be deterred. Taking his cock in one hand, he positioned it at her entrance. As he slid into her pussy, her eyes shut, but not before he witnessed desire rising again. He grabbed hold of her hips again with both hands and pushed. She was tight as a virgin. Even though she was dripping with arousal, her muscles clamped down on his cock. Slowly, inch by inch, he entered her, allowing her muscles time to adjust. By the time he was in her to the hilt, his body screamed for release. She wrapped her legs around his waist as he began to move.

Chris wanted to take it slow, but as her head thrashed about on the pillow and she moaned his name— begging, demanding that he go faster— he moved to his knees, angling to go deeper. As he continued to thrust in and out, her moans grew, her body tightened around his, and she came again. Her pussy clamped hard on his cock, drawing it deeper within her body, milking him. Chris thrust hard into her as his balls drew tight. In that one moment, he hurtled over the edge and his body exploded, her name on his lips.

Moments later, he collapsed on top of her, then rolled over, reversing their positions.

Their legs tangled together; the scent of their passion filled the air. Cynthia shifted on top of him, trying to get comfortable, and then emitted a dainty snore. A smile curved his lips at the satisfaction filling him. As he drifted off to sleep, he realized he’d just experienced a tiny bit of Cynthia’s sensuality. Once he taught her about the power of control, how to give and how to take, Chris was sure the woman would be unstoppable.

Cynthia awoke in small degrees. She opened her eyes and noticed two things. It still wasn’t morning, as it was dark in the room. And she wasn’t in her room. She wasn’t in Anna’s bedroom, where she was supposed to be. As the cobwebs of dreams drifted away, she remembered her evening. The drinking, the kissing, the ...

Oh, God, she had practically ordered Chris Dupree into bed. How was she ever going to face him? She had practically licked him up one side and down the other.

Shifting her legs, she encountered bare skin, a tad bit hairier than her own. She froze.

Oh, God, she was still in bed with him. Of course she was. Where the hell else would she be?

It wasn’t like he would get up and leave his own hotel room.

Slowly, trying not to disturb him, she shimmied to the edge of the bed. The moment she reached it, his arm snaked around her waist, pulling her back against him. Excitement mingled with embarrassment at the feel of his hard cock against her rear end.

“Not trying to sneak away, are you?”

His voice was rough with sleep, his accent thick, and dammit, she felt herself melt at the sound. He chuckled before she could form an answer.

“Of course you were. Scared the hell out of yourself, didn’t you?”

He kissed the back of her neck, and she shivered.

“I— I don’t normally do things like this.”

He rubbed his cock against her and chuckled again.

Exasperated, she sighed. “Chris, this is a one- time— ”

“Now, don’t make me prove I’m worth more than one time. I’d think the first time would have done that.”

The sleepy sensuality of his voice curled through her, heating her blood. Even as she tried to resist, his arrogance made her smile. From the feel of his erection, he definitely had a reason for it. He began kissing and licking her ear lobe, making it difficult to form an argument.

“You live in Hawaii. I live in Georgia. And although I love Hawaii, it would make it one hell of a commute with me living here.”

“You’ve been to Hawaii? Which island?”

“Oahu. My grandmother owned a house close to the North Shore.”

“Ahh.” And he went back to kissing her. His hand slid to her hip, and he pulled her tighter against him. “What else?”

Her whole body seemed to be an instrument made for him to play. He touched her, and she wanted to perform Beethoven’s Fifth. “What?”

“What other argument do you have for us not ... enjoying each other again?”

“Ahh ...oh. Yes.” She sounded all breathless, her body heating as his fingers danced down her abdomen and covered her sex. “We’re very different. I mean, I’m sure you are used to being so in tune ...” She swallowed as he slipped one finger between her folds. “But I have had problems getting satisfaction ...”

He began moving his finger, brushing against her clit. If she weren’t already so aroused, she would be embarrassed by the gush of liquid that was probably wetting his hand.

“But you had no problem with me.” Again, his pride made her smile. He removed his hand, moved away for a second. She heard the sound of foil ripping and knew he was donning another condom. A moment later, something bigger than his fingers prodded at her entrance. Without thought, she lifted her leg, and he pushed into her.

“Ah, chéri, you fit me like a glove.” His voice thickened, the sound of it brushing along her nerve endings.

As he pulled out and then thrust back into her, he murmured incoherently in her ear.

The tension began to build, her need spiraling through her. She pushed back against him, needing more of him, all of him. Her head clouded; her senses filled with him— his scent, the feel of his skin against hers, the sound of his voice teasing her. She tried her best to increase the momentum, but he kept it slow and easy. All the while, he kept talking, telling her just what he wanted to do to her. Part of it was in French, part in English. The pictures he painted with his words pushed her closer to the edge.

She felt herself teetering so close, but not close enough. Just as she was sure she was about to explode, he paused. Reaching around her, he grabbed an extra pillow, laid it on the bed, and rolled both of them on top of it. Positioning her just right, his hands on her hips, he drew himself up to his knees and began to thrust again, pushing deeper than he had been before. She pulled herself up to her elbows and knees, making it easier for him.

Chris kept one hand on her hip, the other moving around to tease her clit as he continued to thrust heavily into her.

“Ah, chéri, that’s it. Baby, come for me. Come apart for me.”

He pressed hard on her clit, moving his fingers in a circular motion. That action and the words he used thrust her into her orgasm. The tension that had been building from the moment his hands had touched her coiled in her stomach, then radiated to her pussy. One more thrust, and she came, her body splintering into a thousand shimmering pieces. He continued to thrust into her as her body convulsed. As she started to relax, the last of her orgasm diminishing, Chris thrust harder, deeper, his fingers still on her clit. Without allowing her body to recuperate from her first one, he pushed her over into another mind- shattering orgasm. This time, he joined her, shouting her name as his body covered hers.

Moments passed as the only sound filling the hotel room was their breathing. He rolled to his side, pulling out of her. She felt the mattress rise as he left. Turning to her side, she watched as he discarded the condom. He returned to bed wearing nothing but a sleepy, satisfied smile. Sliding in beside her, he pulled her close, one hand sliding down her back to her rear end. She placed her head on his chest beneath his chin. He grunted in satisfaction and rubbed her rear.

“Now, chéri, no more talk of just one time.”

She could hear the teasing in his voice, but she didn’t smile. She was trying hard not to cry. Blinking away the tears, she reminded herself that this was about tonight, about enjoying the moment. That was all she would have, and she would be satisfied with that.

Yearning filled her as she imagined waking up with him, laughing with him, loving ... oh, no. She would not fall for that. She didn’t know the man, so she wasn’t in love. She was in lust, and that fizzled out. Just because she’d had good— no, great— sex, didn’t mean she was in love. There was a connection; that, she could admit to herself, but it was based on sex.

Her life was a mess, and she didn’t need more complications. It didn’t stop her from wanting it, needing it.

Thinking of one of Anna’s favorite sayings, Cynthia decided now she understood exactly what Anna meant when she said it.

This sucked, and not in a good way.

Chapter Five

Chris watched Cynthia dress, a mixture of immense satisfaction and irritation running through him. The night they’d shared had only whetted his appetite for her. He wanted to show her just what she needed in bed, show her the power of domination. It hadn’t been full domination, but the glimpses he’d seen the night before told him she wanted— needed— to learn her full powers.

Someone with Cynthia’s background would need several months to work it all out. All he’d had was a night. Chris knew without a doubt she would enjoy that role and would, in the end, be his perfect mate when she submitted to him. She didn’t realize what they had together. That, paired with the fact that she was running away at the light of day, caused the irritation.

“I don’t have to leave until late tonight. Why don’t you spend the day in bed with me?”

She sighed as she zipped her skirt. “I told you. Anna and Max are leaving today. I need to get to her house. I’m also responsible for making sure her shop runs smoothly. If there are any problems, I’m the one who has to bother her. I don’t want that to happen.”

He mulled that over as she pulled her shirt over her head and then looked around for her shoes. As she bent over, the memory of taking her from behind flashed before him. He’d found her wild, crazy ... perfect He couldn’t wait to introduce her to anal play. He was sure she’d love it. Shaking his head to push away the thoughts of slipping into her tight little ass, he brought himself back to his argument.

“You could go there, get everything straight, and come back.” It surprised him how close he was to begging her to stay. He’d never come close to contemplating it, but with Cynthia, he didn’t want to lose that connection. Glancing at the clock, seeing it was just after six- thirty, he formulated another plan. Since her back was turned to him, he slid from bed and snuck up behind her. “Anna and Max aren’t leaving until tonight.”

She jumped at the sound of his voice, then looked over her shoulder at him. “Chris, I should have left last night.”

“You’re embarrassed to be seen with me.” He said the words, worried they might be true. He didn’t think Cynthia was prejudiced, but he was in South Georgia, the heart of Dixie. It was definitely different from Honolulu. Her family came from old southern money, the kind that didn’t like to mingle with people of color— unless they were being served by them. But besides the color of Cynthia’s skin, there was the added problem of her background. She’d been taught to be ashamed of her sexuality. Even as she frowned at him, he slipped his arms around her waist and pulled her to him.

She settled against his chest. Her golden hair contrasted against his dark skin. He drew in a deep breath. The hint of her flowery perfume lingered.

“You know I’m not embarrassed to be seen with you. In fact, I would probably gain points for the gossip it would cause.”

He heard the smile in her voice and smiled in reaction

“It isn’t being seen with you that would bother me. It is everyone knowing ... well, knowing.”

Resting his chin on top of her head, he gently rocked her. “What does that matter? Everyone knew about you and Max.”

The sigh she released was filled with irritation. “Yes, they did. But, you see, I was marrying Max. A Myers doesn’t have one- night stands.”

He heard the scorn in her voice. He hoped it was more for what she’d had to endure than what had occurred between them. Glancing over his shoulder, he located a chair just a few steps back.

“Tell you what,” he said as he walked both of them to the chair. “Why don’t we have breakfast, and then you can go?”

When he reached the chair, he sat, pulling her down with him. She wiggled and crossed her arms beneath her breasts. Breasts he wanted to touch, lick, taste. The arousal that had been rumbling beneath the surface heightened, sending a rush of heat to his cock. Since he was nude, he knew she felt his erection. She stilled, looking down at him, her eyes simmering with heat.

“Chris.” She was trying to sound like she disapproved. It wasn’t working. Mainly because he could see the pulse in her neck jump and hear her breathing increase. “You would think ...”

She closed her eyes as he grabbed hold of her hips and ground against her. “Think what?”

He nipped at her earlobe. She drew in a shuddering breath. “Chris ...”

This time, there was such yearning in her voice, it made him want to shout with triumph. She needed him like he needed her. Chris decided not to play fair. Knowing how sensitive her breasts were, he slid one hand up under her blouse and under the fabric of her bra. A few strokes of his thumb was all it took. Her nipple pebbled, and she moaned.

“Come on, chéri. Once more.”

And even though he said it, he knew it would never be enough. He’d never felt this connection with a woman, the need to bring her into her own, to teach her the things that would make her complete. He moved his hand to caress her other breast, and she relaxed against him.

“This is our one chance.” Although he knew he didn’t believe that. He would figure out some way to make it work, even thousands of miles apart. “Why would we not enjoy ourselves?”

She shuddered, her rear end wiggling over his erection. As the blood rushed from his brain, he had to beat back the caveman who said to throw her down and show her just how good they were together.

He slid his hand beneath her skirt. As he slid one finger along her slit, he pinched her nipple with the fingers of his other hand. Her gasp was filled with surprise and arousal.

“Chris ...”

Her cunt was so wet, her panties were dripping with her arousal. She moved with him, her body taking over even as her mind was making the last- ditch effort to resist him.

“That’s it, baby. So wet.”

In one abrupt move, she pulled away from him and off his lap. He opened his mouth to argue with her, but she shook her head. She settled her hands on her hips, her breath coming out in gasps. Licking his lips, he noticed her nipples pushing against the fabric of her shirt.

“You know, you like to tell people what to do. But I’m not sure I want that.”

Again, he opened his mouth to argue, but she reached out and touched her index finger to the tip of his cock, spreading around the beads of moisture that had bubbled up. Then, catching his gaze, she lifted her hand to her mouth, licking her fingers. A simple thing, but it was probably one of the most erotic things he’d ever witnessed in his life. Never breaking eye contact, she put her finger between her lips, sucking the rest of the liquid off.

When she finished, she slid her finger out, then smiled. “I was right, Mr. Dupree. You are delicious.” Her voice dripped with seduction, arousal, her southern accent deepening, turning him inside out. He moved to stand up, but she stepped forward and placed her hand on his shoulder.

“Uh, uh, uh. Mr. Dupree, I think we are having problems communicating here.” She trailed her hand over his chest as she walked around the chair. Once she was behind him, she settled her hands on his shoulders, massaging his tense muscles. “I think, for once I should be the one to decide about this. True, you played along with me yesterday, but I don’t know if you suffered enough.”

He wanted to tell her that he had not been playing along. That he understood her need to dominate. She stole any rational thought as she moved her hands to his head, massaging his scalp. Chris closed his eyes and leaned his head back to rest on her breasts.

“You know, I have a feeling you enjoyed yourself last night.”

He chuckled. “How did you guess?”

She ignored that comment. “But you know what? I don’t think you ever told me what you like.”

Her hands skimmed down his face, past his chest and stomach, to his cock. He was held mesmerized watching her hands move down his body, her elegant, ivory hands contrasting against his darker skin. Leaning against his shoulder, she draped her body over his and took hold of him at the base.

“It was all about making me happy, which is good. I don’t know if anyone ever thought about that before. But you know what would make me happy?”

She nipped at his ear, then licked it.

“What?”

She stroked him again, allowing her thumb to pass over the head. “I want to drive you crazy.”

“You’re doing a good job of it right now, Cynthia.”

She pumped him a few times before answering. Tension gathered along his nerve endings, his body coiling, readying for release. His balls were so tight, he was amazed he had held on this long.

“Not good enough, in my opinion.”

Once more she stroked him, teasing him with the release he needed; then she was gone and walking around the chair again. His body was pulsing, clamoring for release, and she left him. He opened his eyes and found her in front of him. Without a word, she dropped to her knees. She placed a hand on each of his knees and leaned forward. Touching her tongue to the base of his cock, she licked up one side, swiped over the top, and then down the other side.

“Sweet. You taste so sweet.” He didn’t miss the excitement in her voice. She made him sound like a forbidden treat, one she would relish, lick by lick, until she had completely devoured it.

With one hand she took hold of him by the base, then took him into her mouth. She couldn’t take much of him in, but she did her damnedest. Closing her eyes, she set to work, sucking, kissing, licking him, driving him completely out of his mind. Again, the tension mounted. He curled his toes, trying to hold off. Just as he felt he might not be able to stop his orgasm, she pulled away.

Opening his eyes, he looking down and almost came at the sight of her licking her lips.

“Hmmm.” That was all she said before she leaned forward to lick and suck his balls.

Jesus. He’d created a monster.

Before he was satisfied, she was moving away again. She stood, wiggled out of her skirt, pulled off her shirt and bra, and slowly removed her panties. Grabbing the one condom left, she tore it open, pulled it out, and then approached him.

“Now,” she said as she bent over to put it on. “You be a good boy, and I’ll be nice.”

The teasing in her voice was new, but there was also another element. Steel laced her words, telling him that at this point she was in control. Once the condom was on, she stepped back and paused. Chris realized she was waiting for him to agree. Not able to form words— kind of hard with all the blood drained from his head— he nodded.

She smiled at him as if he owned the world, and at that moment, he thought he did.

Approaching him, she straddled his hips and slowly, almost too slowly, slid down on his cock. Again, her ultra- tight pussy clamped down hard, caressing his dick with each move.

When she finally slid all the way down, she slowly, oh, so slowly, began to rise.

Deliberately, he was sure, she moved slowly, up and down, riding him at a pace guaranteed to drive him over the edge. Irritated, frustrated, and out of patience, he grabbed hold of her hips, wanting to urge her to move faster. In less than a second, she had his hands behind his head.

Looking down at him with eyes filled with arousal, she shook her head. “No, Chris.”

Even though her voice was breathless, she projected the aura of someone in charge, in control. Another jolt of lust lanced through him, threading through his blood, pushing him on. There was nothing in this world as sexy as a Domme realizing her power.

She never broke eye contact as she began to increase her speed. He could tell she was close. Her muscles tightened around his shaft, pulling him deeper. Within moments, she was out of control, slamming down on him hard. She released his hands to cup his face as her mouth settled on his in a wet, open- mouthed kiss.

Her muscles contracted on his cock. She devoured his mouth, her moan coming out muffled. Then she tore her lips away and leaned her head back, closing her eyes. “Now, Chris, baby, come with me now.”

That plea pushed him over the edge, and as she shuddered with her release, he followed, the tension in his body bursting free as he came.

Long moments passed until he shook himself out of his stupor. Cynthia was draped over him, his cock still inside of her, her breath across his skin. He pulled her tighter against him, and she snuggled, like a kitten in need of attention. With what little strength he had left, he lifted both of them out of the chair, pulled out of Cynthia, and laid her on the bed.

After discarding the condom, he stood beside the bed and watched her sleep. It was hard to believe this was the same woman who had blushed just the day before when she held his hand a little too long.

Warmth spread through his chest, his heart almost dropping to his stomach, when he realized that she could really get to him. He’d given up hope of finding someone who might be comfortable with his role as a switch. But, he thought, with her he had.

He just didn’t expect to need her so much. Shaking his head, he climbed into bed with her, pulled her up next to him. Contentment filled the sigh she released as she rubbed her head to the underside of his jaw. As his maman had always said, he wouldn’t borrow trouble.

He would take one day at a time.

Cynthia removed one tray of chocolate chip cookies, placed it on top of the stove, and then put another prepared tray inside the oven. When she’d left Chris just a couple of hours earlier, she hadn’t expected to feel this ... lonely. She’d only met the man the day before, and now it felt like she had lost a part of herself. Silly, she knew, and a bit juvenile, but she couldn’t help it. And even if she could, she didn’t want to. She’d discovered a new part of herself with Chris. Bold wasn’t a word people used to describe her. Hell, most people didn’t even notice her. But last night, and especially that morning, she’d shocked the heck out of herself. Not once in her past had she initiated sex, let alone done the things she’d done to Chris. She couldn’t really help it. There was a way about Chris, something in the way he looked at her, treated her, that made her want to take chances. And when she did, the surge of power gained from it was almost as frightening as it was invigorating.

She shook away those thoughts and continued on with her task. As she was removing the cookies to the rack to cool, she heard the sound of a car pulling into the driveway. She cringed, thinking of just what Max had thought of her going off with Chris the night before.

Max would always be the big brother she wished she’d had, rather than the one she did have.

And her feelings of embarrassment had nothing to do with their past romantic relationship.

There had been little romance and lots of business dealings tied to their proposed marriage.

She just didn’t want to ... disappoint him.

As usual, Anna burst into her house. Anna never did anything by half measures, from all her curly hair that never seemed under control, to the way she dressed, to the way she behaved. Cynthia had envied her from the time they’d met in high school.

“Cynthia!” Anna pulled her into an embrace, and for the first time, Cynthia truly returned the hug. She’d never really been comfortable with physical contact. Her family disdained it. Anna let go and smiled at her. “Gonna tell me what happened last night?”

It was then that Anna noticed her kitchen was filled with a multitude of measuring cups and mixing bowls. “What the hell is all this?”

“I ... I tend to bake when I need to think.”

Max joined them. Without an invitation or even a word to either one of them, he helped himself to the cookies.

“Bake?” Anna asked, grabbing a cookie out of Max’s hand. She popped it into her mouth and then hummed, closing her eyes. After swallowing, she reopened her eyes. “This is not simple baking. You used macadamia nuts, but these are richer than the ones I make.”

Cynthia smiled. “I raided your liquor cabinet. Just a little Kahlua before you add the nuts and chips. Works well with cakes, also.”

“Whatever. It gives them more of a decadent taste. I mean, the chocolate melts, but the cookie itself seems to dissolve the moment it touches your tongue,” Anna said, grabbing another cookie Max had just picked up.

He frowned at her and then smiled at Cynthia. “You know, if I would have known you could bake like this, I might have tried harder to hold on to you.”

Anna laughed even as she punched his arm, then turned her attention to Cynthia. “Where did you learn to bake like this?”

Cynthia didn’t want to admit her best friend growing up had been the family cook. It was embarrassing how starved she’d been for attention, that she’d spent days in the kitchen, learning to bake.

Instead, she shrugged. “I enjoy it. I always have had a knack for baking.”

Anna took another bite of her cookie as Max took an interest in her banana nut muffins. Anna moaned in obvious appreciation.

“You looking for a job?” Anna asked as she grabbed another cookie. Before Cynthia could answer, she turned to Max and said, “Don’t you think three pancakes, eggs, and sausage were enough for breakfast?”

He wiggled his eyebrows at Anna. The gesture reminded Cynthia just how much Anna had loosened Max up. He never would have teased her like that. “I worked up quite an appetite last night.”

Anna rolled her eyes and grabbed Cynthia’s arm. “We have some girl talk.”

“But my cookies— ”

“You have the timer on, right?” Cynthia nodded. “Max, take the cookies out when the timer goes off.”

She tugged Cynthia along, practically dragging her upstairs. When they reached her old room, she pulled Cynthia inside, shutting the door behind her.

“You know one thing I’ve always liked about you, Anna?” Cynthia asked as she watched Anna open the closet door.

“What?” Anna ducked her head inside, rummaging around on the floor for something.

“You know how to be subtle.”

Anna turned around so fast she fell on her rear end. She frowned up at Cynthia, then smiled when she realized Cynthia had been joking.

“Can’t be subtle with Maxwell. Subtle for him is a two- by- four to the head.”

Cynthia laughed and sat down on the bed. “What are you looking for?”

“I have this great pair of flip- flops, with cherries on them.” She began to look around again. “So, you going to tell me, or am I going to have to ask?”

Cynthia sighed. She had known this was coming, and she knew Anna expected something. Cynthia didn’t know how to respond to girl talk. She’d had acquaintances, but never any kind of girlfriends she would divulge secrets to. Not that she had anything really shocking to talk about before now. Before Chris Dupree.

“I took Chris to his hotel room.”

“A- ha!” Anna stood, her hair hanging in her face. Triumphantly, she held up a pair of red flip- flops with a set of cherries hanging from each thong. She shoved her hair out of her face with the other hand. “I knew they were here. Max went on about how it didn’t matter; I could buy more, blah blah blah. So, what happened?”

“With Chris?” Cynthia tried to act nonchalant, but she could hear her voice rise.

“Yes, with Chris.” Anna groaned. “You didn’t actually waste a perfectly good body and do the right thing, did you? Please tell me you did something.”

Cynthia thought about her seduction, the way they’d made love the last time, him in the chair ...

Her face flushed, and Anna laughed. “Ahh, you didn’t waste it. Okay, how was it? Tell me it was worth it.”

How was it? How did she describe the best sex of her life? She smiled without knowing it, and Anna laughed, then hugged her.

“If it was that good, I’m glad I pushed you to do it. Every woman deserves a man who puts that look on her face.”

When she released her, Anna studied her, a smile still curving her lips. “Now, about that job. When I return, I would like you to start baking for me.”

“Anna, really, I have enough money.”

Anna threw the shoes on her bed. “Listen, Cynthia, this isn’t about money. This is about making some of the most sinful cookies I have ever tasted. Plus, you know that Gerard is leaving after I return, and I am going to need help. I take it you can do all varieties, and muffins?” Cynthia nodded. “What about biscotti?”

Cynthia smiled, remembering the spring break trip she’d taken to a cooking school.

While other students where baking in the Florida sun, she had been learning all kinds of baking techniques. “Yes, several types. Almond is one of my favorites, but I do make a wonderful macadamia nut biscotti. My own recipe.”

Anna closed her eyes and sighed in apparent appreciation. When she opened them, Cynthia saw the businesswoman no one messed with. “Okay, you don’t have a choice; you are working for me.”

There was a knock at the door, and before either of them said a word, Max opened it.

He was wearing that brotherly frown, and immediately she was worried. Was her father or brother here? Had they called? Tension coiled in her stomach, a sharp pain radiating from the center.

“Chris Dupree is on your phone.” It was then she noticed he was holding her cell phone.

Anna smiled, and he noticed and frowned harder at her. Not wanting any more tension, Cynthia tried to intervene.

“Thanks, Max.” She held her hand out, but he pinned her with a glare.

“How did he get your number?” His suspicious tone irritated her. He had no right to question her. And before she could stop herself, she answered.

“I gave it to him when I left his room.” He looked somewhat relieved, so she went in for the kill. “This morning.”

He opened his mouth, but Anna, thank the good Lord, stopped him by grabbing the phone and handing it to her. “We’ll be downstairs.”

As soon as the door shut, her heart began to beat harder. Her mouth suddenly went dry. Lifting the receiver to her ear, she tried again to sound casual.

“Hello, Chris.”

“Hey, chéri. How are you doing?”

She shouldn’t fall for it, but his lyrical voice melted some of her reserve. “Doing okay. I just left a few hours ago.”

He sighed, a sound so plaintive it made her laugh. “Yes, I know, but darlin’, I’m already missing you.”

A little thrill raced down her spine. She’d never had a man say that to her. Even though she knew he was just flirting, it didn’t stop her heart from doing somersaults.

“Max didn’t sound too happy to talk to me.”

“Oh, he’s just playing big brother. Don’t worry about him.”

“Hmm, well I don’t like him playing anything with you.” His voice hardened, just a bit, taking on an edge she hadn’t heard before. He sighed, as if trying to control his temper.

When he spoke, his voice had softened again. “So, what are your plans today?”

“Chris, I just left a few hours ago. I told you I was coming over here to Anna’s.”

“You did that; now do you want to do something fun?”

She laughed. “Yeah, what do you have in mind?”

There was silence for a second, and she realized he had expected her to fight him on it.

Then he said, “How about dinner?”

“You’re leaving in a few hours.”

He sighed, and again she laughed. “You’re a hard woman to pin down. I get back to Hawaii late your time, so how about I call you tomorrow?”

She wanted to ignore the excitement that one comment caused, but it was hard.

Especially since her body was already reacting to the way his voice flowed through the phone. She shivered. “Chris, you really don’t have to do that.”

“Ahh, but, chéri, I do. More than you know.” He paused as if he were contemplating his next words carefully, but simply said, “I’ll talk to you later, Cynthia.”

After she hung up, she pushed the conversation aside. As she headed down the stairs, she decided she wouldn’t wait to hear from him. She would only be disappointed if he didn’t call. She would not make plans; she would play it by ear.

Stopping midway down the stairs, she realized that was something new for her. She plotted everything, planned things down to the smallest detail. Ms. Cynthia Myers didn’t just go with the flow. A smile curved her lips, and she practically floated down the stairs. When she reached the first floor, she joined Max and Anna in the kitchen, where he was devouring more cookies.

Both of them looked at her, Anna expectant, Max frowning as he munched away.

“Anna, I’ll take you up on that offer of working for you.”

Chapter Six

A month after her announcement to Anna, Cynthia smiled as she pulled out a tray of cookies and placed them on the counter. As she removed them to the cooling rack and hummed, Analise, the college student who worked afternoons at the shop, gave her a dirty look and left the kitchen. Cynthia shrugged and went about her work.

She knew she annoyed many of the workers there, but they didn’t understand. She had a job, for the first time in her life. A purpose, something to do that was all about making a better life for herself. There were still those moments that filled her with self- doubt. When her brother had stopped by a few weeks ago, she’d almost fallen apart. Thankfully, Max had been around and had made sure Randall understood to leave her alone.

She wiped her brow with the back of her hand. Her hair, which she had stopped straightening, now curled around her face. Even though she wore a T- shirt that had fit her a few months ago, it now seemed a bit tight, but that made it easier to work. The hip- hugger jeans were brand new. It was going to be a scorcher, but she didn’t care. She’d been up late last night talking to Chris. He called every few days and they talked— not about anything in particular, and they never really touched on sex or what happened the night they spent together. But in the last month, she had gotten to know a lot about Chris Dupree, and what she did know she really liked. She knew he cared for his family, was dedicated to his restaurant in Honolulu, and made her want to be naughty. It was nothing he said. He hadn’t made one sexual innuendo in all their conversations, but there was something about Chris that made her want to misbehave.

“Looks like you’re having a good day.” Max leaned against the doorjamb, watching her work. She wondered how long he’d been standing there.

“Pretty good. How about you?”

“Well, it could be better. I had a meeting with your father early this morning.”

She couldn’t stop the pain that little comment brought. Her clothes had been delivered to Anna’s house, and she had yet to speak to either of her parents. Even her mother had ignored the fact that her only daughter had turned thirty the week before.

“Why were you meeting with him?” Oh, she hated the way her voice wavered. It made her sound like a frightened little girl. And she wasn’t.

Max’s jaw flexed a couple of times, his eyes going cold. “We were supposed to discuss some business, but it turned nasty. He made some comments I didn’t appreciate, and I told him I would not be doing business with him again.”

“Oh, no, I hope this has nothing to do with me, does it?” She would just die if she had caused Max any more problems.

“Indirectly. He made comments about Anna.” From Max’s thunderous look, Cynthia was pretty sure she knew what was said about Anna.

“Ah. Father isn’t as bright as he claims to be.”

Max’s expression lightened. “No, he’s not. Then he made some kind of comment about your grandmother’s home in Hawaii. I didn’t even pay attention to it until I got back to the office. Do you have any idea about the state of your father’s finances?”

She shook her head, puzzled. “No, why?”

He walked further into the kitchen. “The rumors are, your father is done up.”

She laughed at first, thinking he was joking. When she realized he wasn’t smiling, her laughter died. “My father is broke?”

“That’s the rumor. I’m not sure if it’s true or not, but I do know one thing. His temper has lost him a few contract bids with some big companies. He lost the Hilton job down in Boca Raton.”

“That was a sure thing.”

Max sighed and took her hand, leading her to a couple of bar stools. Once they were both seated, he continued. “Your father has been losing credibility the last few years. But the thing I worry about is your trust.”

“You don’t have to worry about that. I got it several years ago, and it has been invested well.”

“Are you sure? Did you use Fellows?” he asked, naming her family’s attorney.

She shook her head. “I’m sure my money is safe. I used my grandmother’s lawyer for everything. It was a stipulation of the will.”

He nodded. “That’s good. What I have to worry about, though, is the mention of her home. Do you know why he would mention it?”

Frowning, she thought back. She’d only been eleven when her grandmother had died, and she’d been devastated when the news reached her at summer camp. Her parents had forbidden her to accompany them to Hawaii for the funeral.

“No. All I knew about was the trust.”

The timer went off for the cookies, and she rose to get them out of the oven. Once finished with the task, she turned to face him. “What do you think this is all about?”

He shook his head. “I’m really not sure, Cynthia. There are other rumors about your father. Some say his business dealings are not aboveboard.”

“Father doesn’t like to lose.” It was sad to realize she didn’t respect the man who had raised her. “I hate to say it, but I really think he wouldn’t hesitate to break the law.”

“Why don’t you give your lawyer a call and talk to him? See what he has to say. Do you want me to be there?”

She hated dealing with things like this, but it was allowing her father to run over her for years that had gotten her where she was today. She had to start doing for herself.

“No, I’ll give him a call.” As she said the words, her cell phone started ringing. She answered just before the voice mail picked up. It was her lawyer. “Cynthia. How are you doing?”

“Hello, Mr. Barton. I was just going to call you.”

“Really? Well, I’ve had a situation arise, and I thought you should know about it. Your father told me he had your permission to sell off your grandmother’s house in Hawaii.”

“I don’t understand. Why would he need my permission?”

There was a short silence, and she heard the squeak of his chair. “Cynthia, you do realize you inherited all her property in Hawaii, don’t you?”

“All of it?”

Papers rustled. “Yes, you own her house on the North Shore. I understood you visited her there a few times.”

“Yes.” Her knees had gone weak, so she sat down on the stool again. Max was looking at her, and he opened his mouth. She raised her hand to stop him. “Yes. I visited her there three summers prior to her death.”

“You own that, along with a little land on Maui. That has condos on it, rentals for tourists. Also, you own a small but profitable macadamia nut farm. All of these were to be transferred to you on your thirtieth birthday. I did try to contact you last week at your parents’ home, but I have since learned you moved out.”

She could almost feel the blood rush from her head, her mind spinning with the implications. “Yes, about a month ago.”

“That’s fine. I didn’t have your cell phone number, but I had my assistant search, especially after the disturbing call from your father. He was trying to sell everything. And take the money that has accumulated.”

“Accumulated?”

“Yes, as per your grandmother’s request, we took the profits from the farm, rental property, and her home— which has been rented out these past years— and invested it. You acquired it all.”

“But ... she left me a trust.”

He paused as if trying to word his next comment just right. “Cynthia, I know you know there was no love lost between your grandmother and father. She had actually claimed she would disown her own daughter over the marriage, but she relented, thinking family was more important. But she did not trust him. Your brother was given a trust also, but she claimed him to be a miniature image of your father. She refused to give him more. From what I know, he has already wasted all his money. The Hawaiian properties are yours; you just need to come by the office in Valdosta and sign some papers.”

After setting up an appointment for the next morning, Cynthia hung up. By that point, Anna had joined them, her eyes as worried as Max’s.

Anna took hold of her hands. “Cynthia. What is it?”

“I own it all.”

Both of them studied her. Then Anna said, under her breath, “She’s had some kind of shock.”

“No.” Cynthia pulled her hands free, her body finally coming back to life. “No. I’m fine. It seems there’s a reason my father mentioned the property in Hawaii.”

Walking away from them to the tray of cookies, she began to move them to the cooling rack. She needed something to keep herself busy.

“Last week I turned thirty.”

There was a beat of silence. “Yes. We know that, Cynthia,” Max said in a voice that someone might use with a lunatic he was afraid of. “We threw you a party.”

She nodded, trying to gain some control over the emotions tumbling through her.

Shock registered first; that was to be expected. But the next that came was sadness. Her parents had not only ignored her birthday; they were trying to figure out a way to steal from her. But the one thing that surprised her was the anger.

It began in her chest, white- hot and boiling. Until she had broken off her engagement with Max, she had done everything they expected. The right parties, the right boyfriends, the right friends. Can’t wear red lipstick, Cynthia; you’ll look like a tramp. You’re eating too much, Cynthia. You’ll gain weight. And now they were trying to steal from her.

“Cynthia?” Anna approached her and pulled her into her arms when she saw the tears. “What is it?”

“I own everything my grandmother had in Hawaii. I’m apparently well off, besides the trust fund.”

She pulled back, and Anna studied her. “Why are you so sad?”

“I’m not sad. I’m pissed off. He was trying to sell it off. Stealing from his own daughter, the bastard.”

“Oh, Cynthia.” Pity filled Anna’s voice, but for once Cynthia didn’t care. She allowed Anna to pull her back into an embrace. And she sobbed. Loud, horrible sobs that should have embarrassed her, but she didn’t care. She was through with all the pretense, with all the lies and mistakes.

From now on, she would do what she damn well pleased.

Chris cursed under his breath when he dropped the salt shaker he was filling and it spewed salt all over the table. Sighing, he began to clean up the mess and tried to get his emotions settled. It had been a bitch of a week. Three of his waitstaff were sick— flu— and he was sure others would follow soon enough. On top of that, his manager had broken her ankle and was out for the rest of the week, doctor’s orders. So, he was filling in, doing extra work, when he really wanted to be on the phone with Cynthia.

Pathetic. Every day, he counted the hours until he spoke to her, and today, it had been pushed back because of the extra work.

“Chris?”

He turned and found Lee, one of his hostesses, standing a little too close. Since his manager Maylea had hired her, Lee, a petite redhead, had made no secret of the fact that she wanted to fuck him. Chris never fucked the help; it only led to disaster. But truth was, he wasn’t interested— in anyone. Other than Cynthia. That alone had him worried; he didn’t need to deal with the woman the wait staff had named “the Barracuda.”

“What do you need, Lee?” He stepped around the table with the pretense of cleaning up more salt.

“Kaile called. He can’t work. Another case of the flu.”

He sighed. “Do we have anyone to work in his place?”

“I called Denise. She said she can make it, but she’ll be thirty minutes late. She’s waiting for a sitter.”

He nodded. “Thanks, Lee.”

She began to turn around, but then paused, looking back over her shoulder. “Since we’re both working late, maybe we should get a drink after we close up.”

For a second, he looked at her— well rounded, with beautiful green eyes, a full, pouty mouth, a pair of breasts that had to have been bought and paid for— and felt ... nothing.

“Lee, you know I don’t date the staff.”

She frowned. “I don’t know why you have to be such a saint.” With that she turned and marched away, her full ass swinging with each step.

“I’d watch out for angry women, Chris.”

He glanced over and found his friend Evan Chambers smiling at him. “Hey, whatcha doing here so early?”

“Finished my meeting early.”

Evan was a year or two younger than Chris. He’d started with nothing, just like Chris, working construction. Now he owned one of the most successful construction companies in Hawaii. With his gray eyes and golden- brown hair, Evan had captured and bedded more than one of Chris’s employees. But even though Evan was a close friend and one of the few who accepted him as a switch, Chris knew Evan’s jaded personality would never let him settle down.

“We’re short of staff, so be warned; I might put you to work.”

Evan smiled, then glanced over at Lee, who was talking to one of the waitresses. “If you put me to work on that one, I’ll do just fine. Don’t you just want to bend her over and fuck that ass?”

Chris sighed. “Evan, I can’t talk about staff that way. You know that. Did you need something?”

“Nope. I was meeting with Freddy Akita. He’s redoing the shop.” Evan sat down at one of the chairs at a neighboring table, watching as Chris moved to refill another salt dispenser.

“You seem out of sorts.”

“The flu has hit Dupree’s with a vengeance. I’ll be pulling some longer than normal days this week.”

“No. You’ve been distracted since you returned from the mainland.”

He wanted to deny it. He hadn’t talked to anyone about Cynthia. Keeping her a secret hadn’t been his goal, but his feelings for her were too new, too ... raw. Talking about her would’ve revealed things he hadn’t been ready to face. Still wasn’t. Looking at Evan, he knew he wouldn’t get out of it. Having close friends was a bitch.

“I met a woman.”

Evan chuckled. “So what’s new? Fuck her; get her out of your system.”

Chris sighed, wishing Evan wasn’t so cynical, but knowing his background, Chris understood. “I did. Several times.” He paused as he topped off a salt shaker. “I think I found the one.”

Evan didn’t react at first. Both of them had lived the lifestyle at one time; Evan was still involved. He knew of Chris’s problems, of his status and why he had left. Switches weren’t always accepted, since they felt the need to play both roles in the D/s relationship. In Chris’s mind, it was the best of both worlds, but many in the community felt you should pick one role and stick with it.

Evan frowned. “The one? As in, a woman who can handle a switch?”

As he finished up with the salt, Chris nodded toward his office door. “Let’s take this back there. Don’t want gossip.”

When they were in the privacy of his office, Chris settled into his chair behind the desk, and Evan sat in one of the chairs situated in front. “Now, tell me about this woman.”

“She’s not my type at all. Buttoned down, at least until you get her in the bedroom.” He closed his eyes as the memories rolled over him. As if she were there, he could taste her skin, smell her arousal, remember the way it felt as her pussy clenched around his cock.

“She’s a switch? The one you’ve been looking for?”

Chris didn’t miss the disbelief in Evan’s voice. He opened his eyes and found his friend studying him.

“She doesn’t realize it. But I let her lead, and I could see it. You know what I mean. Jesus, Evan, every time she took control, she about got off on it.”

Evan rubbed his chin. “Does she know about you?”

“That I’m a switch? She doesn’t even know what one is, let alone that I am one, or that she is.”

“Chris, I’ll just say, be careful. I thought you’d never ... well, after what happened, I thought you’d never have anything to do with the lifestyle.”

Chris’s mind drifted back three years earlier, to Jasmine. Gorgeous, big- boned, dark hair, beautiful blue eyes. He didn’t look past the beauty to see the problems beneath the surface. She’d convinced him she wanted to be a switch, but in the end she couldn’t even handle being a sub. She wanted total submission— she wanted to be a slave. It wasn’t in Chris to give it to her. In the end, she left him, and three months later she’d committed suicide. After her death, Chris had found out she’d been unstable for years, but he still blamed himself for not realizing earlier she had problems.

“I know, but it has nothing to do with the lifestyle. It has more to do with what she needs. At the moment, she needs to be in control, to be the one calling the shots. If you met her, you’d understand.”

“If I met her, I could get her into bed in a heartbeat, fuck her until she couldn’t walk, and she would forget all about you.”

Chris smiled, shaking his head. “No. Once you meet her, you’ll understand. Of course, if it goes as I plan, I might need your help.”

Evan nodded, and Chris knew he understood. They talked for a few more minutes, and then Evan left Chris alone. Chris glanced up at the clock and realized he had just enough time to call Cynthia. With the time difference, he had to call her in the middle of the afternoon, or it would be too late when he got home.

He locked his office door, then dialed her cell phone number. As he waited for her to answer, the same familiar energy surged through him, his body pulsing with it. It had been killing him to keep it light. And to make it worse, for the last three weeks or so, she’d seemed preoccupied. Something was going on, but he was trying his best not to pry.

“Hello.” Soft, southern, sexy.

“Hello, chéri. How are you doing?”

She paused for just a second, as if trying to decide if she should tell him something.

Then she continued. “I’m doing fine. I’ve been super busy at the shop all day.”

“Same here. Have a few people out with the flu, so I’m working late tonight.”

“That’s too bad.” Another pause. “Chris?”

“Yes, chéri?”

“I have something to ask you, something I want you to be completely truthful about.”

“Okay. Go ahead.”

He heard her swallow and then take a deep breath. Anticipation skated along his nerves as he wondered what could be bothering her so much.

“When you were here, and we spent the night together ...”

“Yes?” His heart pounded.

“Well, it’s just that, you don’t ... When you were here, you couldn’t keep your hands off me, and now you act like a ... a ... brother.” The words came out in a rush of nervous chatter. Again, she drew in a deep breath, apparently calming herself, and asked, “Please, just let me know, Chris. Are you not interested in me that way anymore?”

Chapter Seven

For several seconds, Chris didn’t say anything. Couldn’t. It was amazing that she actually would think he wasn’t interested. What was going through her mind?

“Cynthia, chéri ... you know I’m interested in you.”

“No, I don’t.”

“I think I proved that six weeks ago.”

“Then ... yes. But it has been six weeks, and you haven’t once said a word about it. You talk to me, but you don’t say a word about it.”

He drew in a fortifying breath, trying to gather his control for this conversation. Just this had him already hard, and since it had been six weeks since he’d touched her, touched any woman, it wouldn’t take much to get him off.

“Honey, it’s just that I didn’t know when we would see each other again. So I avoided it.”

“You avoided talking about it because you don’t plan to see me for a while?” Now she didn’t sound upset, but confused.

“You don’t understand.”

“Explain it to me, then. When you were here, you said you couldn’t get enough of me. But for some reason, I think you have.”

“Well I haven’t. I never will. Listen, Cynthia, I can’t talk about it.” Already, he was stroking himself through his pocket. Sad and pathetic, but talking about that night, even the smallest mention, made him hard.

“Are there people around?”

“No. I’m by myself. It’s just that ...” Telling her would let her know just how much control she had over him, how much she meant to him. He didn’t want to scare her away, but she wasn’t going to let it go. “If I were to talk about it, I’d have to get off. There’s just no way around it.”

He heard her breath catch. The sound was as arousing as the sound of her moans. “So, right now, you’re ...”

“Hard enough to drive a nail into cement.”

There was a long pause. He could hear her breathing. Then she asked, “Are you touching yourself right now?” Her voice was unbearably excited, her southern accent deepening.

Damn. The woman was going to be the death of him. He leaned his head back against the chair and closed his eyes, praying for some sort of control. “Yes.”

“You’re naked?” Her excitement spurred his.

“No. I’m stroking over the fabric.”

Then she said something he would have never expected. “Take your cock out.”

His eyes flew open, and he almost dropped the phone. “What?”

“Take it out.”

Chris seriously thought about denying her. Definitely not the place to do this. But there was something in the way she’d ordered him that had him reacting to her demand. He unbuttoned and unzipped his pants, then pushed the fabric aside. His erection bobbed free once he pulled down his underwear a bit. He sighed as he grabbed it by the base and stroked.

“Does that feel good?” Her tone had turned coy.

“Yessss.”

“Are you stroking yourself?”

“Yes.”

“Hmm, I wish I were there. I liked having your cock in my hand ... in my mouth.”

Jesus. A rush of heat pumped to his cock and left his balls aching. He shifted his weight, leaning back. Then, remembering what was going on and where he was, he grabbed the towel on his desk, placing it over his shirt.

“Are you about to come?”

“No.”

“That’s good. I’m lying here naked. I had a nightshirt on when you called, but ...” She sighed. “I can’t help touching myself when I hear your voice.”

He had died and gone to heaven. Holy God. “Tell me more. Tell me what you want me to do, what you would like to do.”

“I wish you were here. Then I could have your hands on me.”

“Hmmm.” He was getting close. He knew it wouldn’t take much to get him going, and her telling him to touch himself, that she wanted his hands on her, was pushing him toward the edge.

“Don’t come yet, Chris.” Her voice was breathless. “I’m not there yet. I’m wet, but ... not there.”

Oh, Lord, she was masturbating with him. This was something he never expected, and for that reason alone it was doubly arousing.

“Are you still stroking, Chris?”

“Yes.”

“You know what I want? I want to taste you again. I want to take your cock in my mouth, suck you, lick you.” With each comment, her voice had grown thinner, breathier. He could tell she was close. “I’d love to have your mouth on my ... pussy. Eating me while I sucked you.”

He curled his toes inside his shoes, trying to hold off like she asked, but it was getting harder by the second. Every nerve in his body was on alert, the tension growing, stretching him thinner, pushing him to the edge. He could see her spread out on her bed, her hand on that pretty cunt, her fingers slipping into herself.

“Oh, yes. Yes. Baby. Chris, honey, now. Come now.”

He was already pumping himself, driving himself over the edge. The next instant, the tension that had been gathering since he’d heard her voice exploded as he came.

“Cynthia!”

He continued to pump as he blew his load. The hot liquid landed on the towel he’d laid on his stomach, as his body went rigid. Slowly, he relaxed, his muscles now weak from the exertion. He closed his eyes, his body gradually coming down. For several moments, the only sound on the line was their heavy breathing.

“Cynthia?”

“Yes, Chris?” Her voice held no embarrassment, no recriminations. Just complete and utter satisfaction.

“I would have tried this six weeks ago, if I had known you were into phone sex.”

She laughed. The sound had him smiling. He had a feeling she didn’t laugh that often, and each time he heard the sweet sound, something shifted in his chest.

“I’ve never been before.”

He opened his eyes and noticed the time. “Damn, honey, I gotta get to work. Dinner rush is about to start.”

“I understand. And I have to get to bed.”

“I’ll give you a call tomorrow.”

“Hmm.” She paused, then said. “I might be out of range about this time tomorrow, but I will call you back if you miss me.”

“Okay. Night, Cynthia.”

“Night.”

After hanging up, he cleaned himself up, his mind still turning over the comment she’d made at the end. He zipped up his pants and discarded the towel. She’d never told him that before, and he couldn’t stop the nagging feeling she was keeping something from him. Then someone knocked on the door, and everything about his worries was pushed aside as the dinner crowd started to arrive.

Cynthia lay in her hotel bedroom thinking she should be embarrassed. Sweat had gathered between her breasts, her heart was still beating out of control, and she hadn’t felt this relaxed in weeks. For some reason, having phone sex with Chris felt just right. Two months ago, if someone had told her she would be having phone sex with a man she’d had a one- night stand with, she would have said they were mental.

She pulled her nightshirt over her head and then settled back in bed. Her flight was early in the morning, and now she was wide awake. Turning on the TV, she decided to find something to put her to sleep for the long flight to Hawaii. Eleven hours from Atlanta to Honolulu.

The last three and a half weeks had been a whirlwind of activity. Once she’d signed the papers, she’d taken over all her grandmother’s properties in Hawaii. At that point, she’d made the choice to move to Hawaii. She’d stayed two weeks in Lake Park, helping Anna with her newly hired baker.

Waiting had almost killed her, but she hadn’t wanted to leave Anna high and dry. And she needed to get her affairs in order. The people who had been renting her grandmother’s house had just vacated. Perfect timing.

Oh, Lord, be truthful with yourself, Cynthia.

She wanted to see Chris. This just made it convenient. Even though she had tried her best not to, she’d become attached to him and, apparently, would go to any lengths to please him. She’d never had phone sex and had never masturbated. Ever. And she had just done both because the sound of his voice, the fact that he was aroused and touching himself ... it had been too much to ignore. Even as she blushed, she couldn’t feel guilty.

The last three weeks, she had broken free of some of her constraints, and Anna had helped. Sick of her clothing, Cynthia had enlisted her help to buy new jeans, shorts ... everything. Of course, the tattoo had been Anna’s idea. Cynthia snorted. Apparently it didn’t take much to convince her of anything. She now had a tattoo on her ass and had just initiated phone sex with Chris.

Lord only knew what kind of trouble she would get into in Hawaii. But she was looking forward to every minute of it.

Chapter Eight

The scent of plumeria intermingled with the spicy scents of Dupree’s as Cynthia walked up the path to the front door. The sun was setting behind her, and she breathed in another dose of heavy Hawaiian air. Dusk was her favorite time in Hawaii. The heat of the day disappeared, leaving a clean, crisp feeling to the air. The restaurant wasn’t too far off Kalakaua Boulevard, close to the heart of Waikiki, but even in the heart of the city, the area was unpolluted. It was something she loved about Hawaii.

There were a lot of people waiting for tables, lingering around the benches in front.

Jazz poured from the speakers, not too loud, but just loud enough to let you appreciate the music. She gained a few looks when she passed a group of men. These were not the type of men who paid attention to her, usually. They were attractive, but they were almost too attractive and they knew it. Normally, she wouldn’t get a second look. But she’d dressed in a pair of low- riding, hip- hugging jeans, a snug T- shirt, and sandals. She was sure the red lipstick and out- of- control curls, thanks to the Hawaiian humidity, had something to do with it. Smiling to herself, she reached for the front door, only to have another dangerously good- looking man open it.

This one was pure sex. Gray eyes, with just a hint of blue, along with golden- brown hair, he had to be taller than Chris, who was just over six feet.

“Thank you.”

“The pleasure is all mine. Do I note a little of the south in your voice?” His voice was deep, southern, and filled with sensual teasing.

She nodded, then said nothing else as she stepped over the threshold. He was attractive, but he was a hunter, and that wasn’t what she wanted. She dismissed him from her mind the moment she entered Chris’s restaurant, which was decorated in bold splashes of color, with scenes from New Orleans in pictures and murals on the walls. The jazz that played outside lingered, but at a much more muted volume. The lighting was subdued, the waiters and waitresses dressed in red and black. The scents she’d first encountered outside almost overpowered her within the cozy confines of the restaurant. A mixture of spices, peppers, and onions filled the room.

“May I help you?”

It was then that she noticed a young woman standing behind a podium, or rather, leaning on crutches behind the podium. With her gold skin, high cheekbones, and wide nose, it was clear the woman was Hawaiian, but her most distinctive feature was her eyes.

They were the most amazing shade of blue. Piled on top of her head, her hair was black, smooth, and probably went down to her waist. Not a stitch of makeup adorned her face, nor did she need it.

“I hope you can. I was looking for Chris.”

“She appears to be the sweet magnolia Chris met when he went to the mainland.”

She jumped at the voice of the man she’d encountered at the front door.

“Evan.” The woman behind the podium had gone breathless when she said the man’s name, but then cleared her throat. She looked up at him, admiration— no, beyond admiration— in her eyes. Yes, she had just met the young woman, but Cynthia knew a cynic when she saw one; Evan was one, and this woman would probably get hurt in the end.

The oblivious male smiled at the woman as though she were his little sister. “May, how are you doing? Chris said you had an accident.”

May blushed. “Nothing big.” Then May returned her attention to Cynthia. Cynthia could sense May fought the urge to sneak a glance at Evan. “Chris is a bit busy, but I can take you into the back.”

“Oh ... I don’t want you to go to any trouble.”

She laughed, the sound of it turning a few heads, including several men. It was one of the most lyrical sounds Cynthia had ever heard.

“Get me away from this podium. Chris stuck me here.” As the woman hobbled down the hall, she said over her shoulder, “The doctor ordered me to stay home, but I knew Chris needed my help.”

“He’s lucky to have you.”

She laughed again. “I have a feeling he would argue with you tonight.” She stopped at a set of chrome doors. Cynthia hurried to open them. “Thanks. Still learning how to do that since I’ve only been on these suckers for two days.”

As soon as she entered the kitchen, Cynthia saw Chris. Her heart did that little flip- flop she never seemed to be able to control. Her nerves stretched thinner. What would she do if he rejected her? What would she do if he didn’t?

Nothing could diminish how good he looked. Chopping vegetables at one of the work stations, he was joking with a young man beside him. He was dressed in jeans and a T- shirt with the Dupree’s logo splashed across it in red. He laughed, the sound making her smile.

May approached him, and he stopped laughing, his eyes narrowed on the young woman. He settled his hands on his hips. “Maylea, I told you to stay up on the stool. I’ll fire you if I find you on your feet again.”

“And then you would have to close Dupree’s. Besides, I brought you a present, bruddah.”

She gestured in Cynthia’s direction. When Chris shifted his attention from May to her, his expression froze for just a second. Everyone else seemed to disappear, and all she could see was him. He said something; she thought it might be her name. In the next instant, his gaze heated, and he strode purposefully toward her. Her breath caught in her throat.

Without a word, he pulled her into his arms. Instantly, his mouth was on hers, his tongue tangling with hers. He lifted her off the floor as she slid her arms up his, over his shoulders, and around his neck. She wanted to wrap her legs around his waist. She wanted him naked. She wanted to be naked with him.

The hoots, whistles, and clapping of the kitchen staff brought both of them back to the present. Chris pulled away, a wry grin curving his lips. Her heart was still pounding out of control. She couldn’t seem to catch her breath, and the sensual heat she witnessed in his eyes didn’t help, either. Slowly, oh, so slowly, he slid her down his body and to the floor. But not before she felt his erection. He grimaced, and she laughed. Pulling her in front of him, he turned both of them.

“Everyone, this is Cynthia. Cynthia, this is everyone.”

Everyone smiled at them, except a little redhead in the back. She frowned, her expression vicious. Before Cynthia could ask who the redhead was, Chris was pulling her out of the kitchen. He walked right past Evan, ignoring him when he said hi.

Chris didn’t say another word. He allowed her to enter first, then closed and locked the door, leaning against it.

As he smiled at her, still not saying anything, she said, “What? You’re making me nervous.”

His smile grew. “Just trying to take it in that you’re here.”

Warmth curled into her heart at his words.

“If I would have known ...” He frowned. “Why didn’t you tell me you were coming yesterday?”

She sighed. “I didn’t want you to feel obligated. I actually had thought about waiting a few days.”

He was still frowning. “You just got in?”

“Yeah. Well, I stopped by the house first, but I couldn’t wait.”

“House?”

“I’ll tell you about all that later.”

His gaze roamed over her. “You’re looking good, chéri.”

She smiled. “A little bit of a change, huh?”

He nodded as he walked forward. Sliding his hands around her waist, he pulled her against him, enveloping her in an embrace. The heat of his body warmed her and his scent surrounded her as he rested his chin on her head.

“How long is your visit?”

“I’m not sure yet. I have some things to sort out.”

He leaned back and smiled. “What kind of things?”

“Well,” she said. All the sudden, she was nervous. She didn’t know why, because her happiness didn’t depend on Chris, but it would sure be nice. She pulled away, and he let her go easily enough. Wandering around the room, she tried to work up the nerve.

“Cynthia, is there something you need to tell me?”

The seriousness in his voice caught her attention. She turned to face him. “Well, yes. It’s all kind of complicated, but I might be moving to Hawaii for good. I just want you to know that I’m not here to pressure you. I stopped by because ...”

He stepped closer, placing his hands on her waist. “Because why?”

“I told you. I couldn’t help myself. It’s embarrassing, completely embarrassing, but after our night ... and then last night ...”

He smiled. “Yeah, that was definitely something.”

She punched him, and he laughed. A knock at the door interrupted them. The door handle jiggled, and she thought she heard someone cuss. “Boss, we have a situation in the kitchen.”

Chris didn’t even turn around. “Be there in a minute, Lee.”

Lee’s sigh was audible through the door. “We need you now.”

“And I said I will be there in a minute. I own the restaurant, so I think I can determine when I will get there.”

There was a pregnant pause, then another disgusted sigh. Cynthia wasn’t surprised to hear the woman stomp away.

“Chris ...”

“Don’t worry. Lee isn’t going to be nice to you, so just avoid her.” He bent his head and gave her a quick, hard kiss. “You want something to eat? You must be exhausted.”

“A little tired, but I slept a lot on the trip over.”

He nodded. “Can you give me about an hour?”

An hour? “Sure.”

He kissed her again and then left, leaving her alone with her thoughts.

Chris broke up the argument two busboys were having over a woman neither would probably be able to handle, then helped with some more prep work. After that he went out into the restaurant, talked to guests, and made sure May was resting her ankle. He was anxious to get back to Cynthia— pathetic, but at this point there was nothing he could do about it. Starting back to his office, he thought about the changes in her. It seemed that moving out of her parents’ house had done her a world of good. She’d put on a few pounds, though she still needed more, and with her curly hair and casual attire, he’d been hard- pressed to keep his hands off her. In fact, it had been impossible. And now that she was in Hawaii ...

He sighed as his cock twitched. Where Cynthia was concerned, he had little or no control.

He saw Evan at the bar, flirting with the new female bartender. Knowing he had ignored Evan earlier, Chris changed course and took a stool beside him.

“So, your magnolia showed up.”

He didn’t miss Evan’s sarcasm, but he ignored it. “Yes.”

Evan shot him a look, and Chris smiled. Evan rolled his eyes. “Good Lord, you’re useless. You are definitely whipped.”

“Happily. You saw her.”

Evan took a long pull off his beer bottle before answering. “So, you think this is the one?”

Chris grabbed a few nuts. “No, she is the one. I can feel it.”

“You can feel it? Fuck, you sound like you’ve been listening to Dr. Phil. Women are never to be trusted; you should know that. Believe me, I learned that at an early enough age.”

Chris understood why Evan hated women, where the deep- rooted hatred came from, but it still didn’t sit well with him. “You really need to learn how to treat women better.”

“I treat women just fine. I’ve never heard any complaints.”

Chris sighed and decided not to have the usual argument. “I guess the plans for the weekend are off. I’ll give you a call.”

Evan nodded, his attention going back to the new bartender. As Chris left, he heard Evan sweet- talking her and knew he’d probably lose a bartender soon. Shaking his head, he walked back to the office, only to be waylaid by Lee. He sighed, trying to quash his rising irritation. There were a multitude of problems every night at Dupree’s, from fighting busboys to drunk customers. But tonight, he didn’t give a damn. He just wanted to get back to Cynthia.

“What do you need, Lee?”

Her eyes narrowed at his tone. Chris hadn’t even tried to hide his irritation.

“I just thought you would like to know that I made sure we were covered tomorrow.”

“I appreciate it. Is there anything else?”

“It seems that your ... what is her name ... Cynthia is more important than your business.”

Irritation quickly transformed into anger, but he held on to it. They were within earshot of both the kitchen and a few tables. “Just a little information for you, Lee. I own Dupree’s. It is my business, and I approve all hirings and firings. And a little advice— telling the boss what he should be doing, when you’ve only been here a month, isn’t the way to go about getting a raise.”

She opened her mouth to argue, but Maylea stopped her.

“Lee, I think you’re needed up front.” Lee looked back over her shoulder at May. “And, so you can stop taking the credit, I was the one who made sure we had people here tonight and tomorrow.”

Without another word, Lee tossed Chris a look of disdain, then marched off to go back to work.

“Ahh, bra,” she said, using the familiar term Hawaiians used for close male friends or family members, “you’d better be careful with that one. She’s gonna leave claw marks.”

He smiled, then frowned. “What are you doing on your feet?”

She rolled her eyes and gestured to her sides. “I’m not on my feet. I am on crutches. There are other things of importance, like relieving oneself every now and then.”

Chris laughed. “I guess we should chat about firing her.”

“No, she’s gonna quit. Mark my words. Girl is a waste of space, and now that she knows you’re taken, bra, she won’t care. This way, we won’t have to pay unemployment.”

“You’re a cold- hearted woman, May.” He leaned forward and brushed her cheek with a brotherly kiss. “I’m glad we never got involved.”

A fine blush worked its way up her neck and into her face. “Chris, there was no way that could have happened.”

“Why is that?”

“You remind me of my brother. That’s just ... gross.”

“Just remember, let someone else close up.”

She nodded, but didn’t meet his eyes.

“May ...”

“I’ll do it. Back off, bra.” He stepped out of her way. After she passed, she paused and looked back over her shoulder. “Dennis took Cynthia something to eat a little while ago. Better watch out around her. The dogs are already sniffing.”

He smiled as he watched her hobble back into the main dining area. May might be young, but she was smart and never failed to tell him exactly what she was thinking. It was at times refreshing, and other times frustrating.

He headed back to his office and found the door slightly open. Muted voices drifted through the opening. May hadn’t been wrong. He recognized Freddy’s voice. One of the chefs, he was known for his string of tourist conquests. Jealousy, swift and unexpected, swept through Chris.

“So, one of the things you may not understand is how hard it is to concentrate in a commercial kitchen.”

“Really?”

Chris chuckled. Her voice dripped with sugar, the type you used to kill someone too stupid to understand sarcasm.

“Yes. It takes a lot to focus on your duties.”

“You don’t say?” There was a sharper edge to her voice, and Chris worried Freddy might be out of his depth. Two months ago, he doubted Cynthia would have butchered someone verbally, but now ... he wasn’t so sure.

Just as he reached to push open the door, Freddy shoved his foot further in his mouth.

“I know a woman with your background— ”

“My background?”

Cynthia’s voice had risen, a sure sign of agitation. He knew that she’d taken pride in her work at Anna’s shop. She wouldn’t take kindly to Freddy telling her who she was.

“I can tell that you haven’t really been introduced to our line of work. A lady such as yourself wouldn’t understand what it takes.”

Chris opened the door and decided to save his sous chef from bodily harm. Cynthia was in his chair, practically breathing fire. Freddy sat on the corner of the desk, one arm resting on a leg.

“Freddy.”

He jumped off the desk and faced Chris, his fair skin flushing. The tone in Chris’s voice was enough to let Freddy know he’d overstepped his boundaries. The young man swallowed— hard.

“Chris. I was just— ”

“Telling me just what a wonderful place this is to work,” Cynthia said as she popped out of her chair and walked around the opposite side of the desk. She smiled up at him and winked. Chris tried not to laugh, but it was close.

“I think you had a long enough break, Freddy.”

Freddy nodded and walked out the door.

“It was nice to meet you, Freddy,” Cynthia called after his retreating form. “That wasn’t very nice of you,” she chided Chris.”

He grabbed her hand and pulled her closer, sliding his arm around her waist. “It was that, or let you tear him a new one.”

She gasped and looked up at him. Then she burst out laughing. She slid her arms up his chest and behind his neck. “It was really hard to put up with his condescending tone.”

“So, he’s not your type?”

She wrinkled her nose. He dropped a kiss on the tip of it.

“I don’t want a boy. What is he— twenty?”

“Twenty- one.”

She sighed. “Well, my tastes are a bit different from little boys with red hair and more hormones than sense.”

“Is that a fact?” He leaned down and nipped at her lips.

“Hmm.”

She leaned into his kiss, her mouth opening immediately. When he pulled back, he was happy to see the bemused look in her eyes. She licked her lips, and he groaned.

When she spoke, her southern accent deepened. “I have to say, you are definitely catering to my tastes.”

The arousal that had been simmering just beneath the surface began to heat. She’d been too drunk for him to take her seriously when she flirted in Georgia. But the fact that she was stone- cold sober and— God almighty— rubbing against him pushed his buttons.

“I heard you had something to eat. Are you ready to leave?”

“Here’s your hat; what’s your hurry?” He opened his mouth, and she laughed. “I’m teasing. It has been a long day. It started early; my flight left about ten- thirty eastern time.”

“What hotel are you staying at?”

“I’m not. That is what I wanted to talk about. I’m moving into my grandmother’s old house.”

Moving? Okay, she’d said something like that, but he didn’t understand earlier. “Why didn’t you— ”

“I didn’t tell you because I wasn’t sure I would have the nerve to stop by. Also, you’ve been so busy. I didn’t want you to feel obligated.”

“Well, it isn’t an obligation; it’s a need. Your grandmother lived in the North Shore area, right?”

She nodded.

“I’m closer. I live over in Hawaii Kai. Did you drive?”

“Yes, I rented a car until I can buy one. I’ll follow you.”

As he led her through the restaurant, Chris noticed Evan was now talking to Lee and Maylea was sitting in her spot. The dinner crowd was dwindling, only a few hangers- on left at the bar. He stopped to talk to May. She didn’t look like she was feeling well. Her shoulders were slumped, the circles under her eyes were pretty dark, and she was frowning. She’d been in a wreck two days earlier, and she needed her rest. He knew she used work to escape her overbearing family.

“Why don’t you go home, sista?”

She smiled, albeit weakly. “I will as soon as we lock up. I’m leaving all the cleaning up to everyone else.” Turning her attention to Cynthia, she said, “It was really nice meeting you, Cynthia.”

“Same here.”

After a few more instructions, Chris led Cynthia out of the restaurant and into the cool night air. Moments later, she was following him in her rented convertible. As they neared his house, he began to worry. He had his plan— he would introduce her slowly to the D/s lifestyle— but what if he’d read her wrong?

He shook his head as he turned into his driveway. No, this was right. He’d felt it almost from the first time he’d seen her, and whenever he heard her voice on the phone.

And tonight, he would start them both on the path to what he knew he needed and hoped she needed, too.

Chapter Nine

Cynthia followed Chris up the steps to his house. He had a split- level house, which was popular in Hawaii. It sat on top of a hill, the back of it facing the ocean. She concentrated on the surroundings, trying to ignore the pounding in her heart, the way her hormones were doing a tap- dance, the way she had to keep from jumping his bones in public. Once he unlocked the door, he held it open and let her enter before him.

As she stepped across the threshold, her nerves ratcheted up another level. He hadn’t touched her since they’d left Dupree’s, but it didn’t matter. She kept remembering what it felt like to have his hands ... his mouth ... on her skin.

He flipped on a few lights, and she had her first real view of his house. The entryway led to a long hallway, which she assumed led to the bedrooms. The kitchen was off to the right. The floors, at least down the hallway, were tile, which she was sure kept the house cool. Her grandmother’s was the same way. Familiar with the long- held Hawaiian tradition, Cynthia automatically removed her shoes. Chris arched a brow and followed suit.

She smiled and shrugged. “My grandmother insisted on following the traditions.”

Placing his hand on the small of her back, he ushered her to the kitchen. It was an open area, with lots of counter space, that opened into a living and dining area. She walked around until she came to the windows that looked out onto the lanai. Her breath caught in her throat as she looked down on the twinkling lights of his neighborhood and out at the Pacific.

“I paid more than this house was worth at the time to get that view.” He stepped behind her, sliding his arms around her waist and pulling her against him. “The house was a mess, but with Evan’s help, I got it just the way I wanted it.” He rested his cheek on top of her head. “I need to take a shower. Why don’t you relax, make yourself at home, and I’ll be back in a minute.”

He kissed her on the temple and then left her alone to roam through his house. Okay, he hadn’t said to roam, but he told her to make herself at home. She wandered over to the bookshelves that lined two of his walls from floor to ceiling. The multitude of titles included works from Asimov to business books. On several of the shelves he had pictures of family members, all smiling, all with their arms around each other. She’d never had any pictures like that. Odd, she’d never thought about it before, but the only pictures she had with her parents were done in a studio. Calm, staged, perfect. Not one of Chris’s looked staged.

“I see you’ve met my gaggle of brothers and sisters.”

She gasped and turned around. Chris stood a few feet behind her, droplets of water still in his hair, and only wearing a pair of black boxers.

Until this minute, she hadn’t realized exactly how much she’d missed touching him.

Her gaze roamed down his body, and she sighed. She didn’t know if she knew another man as beautiful as Chris. He moved, and she watched, mesmerized by the play of muscles beneath his skin. For once in her life, reality was better than memory.

“You keep staring at me like that, and I’m not going to be gentle.”

She took her time moving her attention back to his face. The tension in the room increased as she walked toward him. Stopping within a few inches of touching him, she closed her eyes and inhaled. The clean, woodsy scent of his soap mixed with his own unique scent. Heaven.

She opened her eyes. “Who asked you to be gentle?”

He smiled. “Now, that is an interesting comment.” He slid his arms around her waist and pulled her against him. “I’d like to strip you naked and fuck you until sunrise.”

She shivered. Usually— well, before Chris— comments like that disgusted her. Now, she just wanted to know if it were possible.

“There are things we need to talk about.”

She watched his lips as he talked, remembering the way they tasted, how they felt as he kissed his way down her body, slipping his tongue into her pussy.

“What kind of things?” And did it involve him naked?

“Not here.” He pulled away from her and took her hand, leading her through the kitchen and down to his bedroom. Once she stepped into the room, her body heated up about fifteen hundred degrees. An antique dresser sat against one wall, along with a rocking chair. On the opposite wall, his bed snagged her interest. King- sized, with a wrought- iron headboard, it was a high bed with a Hawaiian quilt covering it, green, red, and blue interwoven through the pattern. Nightstands on each side of the bed matched the dresser.

Both held matching lamps and provided the only light in the room.

“Why don’t you have a seat?”

The seriousness of his voice struck her as odd and threw her off center. From the moment she’d seen him in the kitchen, she’d known this was right. Now, from his tone, she worried that maybe he’d felt obligated to bring her back to his home. Oh, Lord. Just what she needed— pity.

“What is going on in that beautiful head of yours?” Her gaze shot to his. “Don’t get ahead of me. Just sit down and we’ll work it out.”

She nodded. All the delicious warmth that had been building now lay frozen. Doing his bidding, she settled onto the bed and concentrated on her bare feet.

He didn’t say anything, but she could feel his gaze on her. Slipping a finger under her chin, he lifted it. When she finally made eye contact, he continued.

“That night in Georgia ...” He sighed. “This is really hard, so I’ll just blurt it out. Did you feel like there was something different, something new about your experience with me that you didn’t have with other men?”

She felt heat crawl up her neck and into her face. “Well, I told you ... I hadn’t been able to ...”

“Did you ever wonder why?”

She sighed. “I just thought you were very good.”

He chuckled, and she smiled. “I am, but not that good. Let me put it another way. Did you ever feel that you didn’t enjoy sex because ... well, maybe you didn’t feel as if you had a say in the action?”

“I wasn’t raped.”

He winced. “Okay, I’m not being as slick as I usually am. When you were telling me what to do, how did that make you feel?”

“I liked it.” It was hard to admit, but the little play had turned her on.

“And would you like to do that again, have that play within the bedroom?”

She nodded, confused by his line of questioning.

He took another deep breath and swallowed. For some reason, his nervousness made her feel a little better, not so unsophisticated.

“I have a confession to make. I’m a switch. Do you know what that means?”

She shook her head.

“It means that I like to play both the role of dominant and submissive.”

For a second her mind didn’t compute the words, but then what he was saying hit the mark. “You’re into S and M?”

“Not really. Well, a little. I’m more into bondage and submission.”

Her mouth opened soundlessly for several seconds. Her mind had frozen on the words bondage and submission.

“You like to tie women up— ”

“Sometimes. Sometimes I like them to tie me up.”

Her eyes widened at that comment. She couldn’t say anything. Her head was still reeling with ideas he had planted there. Most of all, an almost overwhelming roll of hot lust shifted through her. She wasn’t comfortable with the fact that the idea of tying him to the bed was arousing her.

He shifted his feet restlessly, and she had the feeling this wasn’t easy for him. “Listen, what I like, and what you like— that is what is important. Cynthia, ask yourself: would you have been as fulfilled if you had not taken the lead that night and the next morning?”

The mention of their time brought back the experience in vivid detail. She had been a little pushy, and in that, she had felt ... powerful. She never would have associated that power with sex.

“I guess you’re right, there.”

He released a breath, as if he had been worried she’d deny it. “I’d like to help you feel that way ... all the time.”

She swallowed, wondering just why the idea had her practically creaming, but it did.

The image of Chris, tied to a bed, naked and at her mercy, had pleasure humming through her. Immediately, embarrassment and shame stole over her, telling her that this was not right; this was bad.

“No, Cynthia,” Chris said, accurately interpreting the expression on her face. “Don’t be ashamed of what you feel. It’s healthy, and if you want, I’ll try my best to teach you.”

Fear and arousal coursed through her, twisting her inside out. Her upbringing was screaming at her, telling her this was wrong, that she was bad for wanting it. Somehow, she fought against those worries and looked him in the eye.

“I’m not promising anything, but ... I want to try.”

Chris’s mind went blank for a moment. The woman he had been dreaming about for almost two months, been making plans for, was now saying she would try to learn what he wanted, and he couldn’t form a sentence. Every ounce of blood must have drained straight to his cock, along with any working brain cells.

She was looking up at him with those cornflower- blue eyes, her lips painted red, his for the taking, and he couldn’t think. Arousal, almost too painful, coursed through him, but it also mixed with a dose of fear.

“Chris?”

The doubt in her voice pushed aside his worries. He shook his head, trying to pull out of his stupor, and then smiled down at her. Holding his hand out, he waited for her to place hers in his, and then pulled her up off the bed.

“We won’t do anything too demanding at first.”

He moved behind her, never really breaking contact. He trailed his hand up her arm to her shoulder. Her muscles tensed, though not really out of fear— at least, he hoped not. He hoped it was more out of anticipation than fear. Breathing deeply, he began to massage her shoulders, trying to ease her worries. This was going to drive him crazy, taking it slow. But he knew that this early in the relationship, he had to take measured steps. Someone who had never encountered the lifestyle might be overwhelmed by what they felt.

“Tonight will be about you. You tell me what to do with you ... to you.”

She drew in a shuddering breath, her muscles relaxing beneath his ministrations.

“I’m not sure what to do, what to say.”

Leaning closer, he brushed his lips against her ear and whispered, “Nothing between us is wrong, Cynthia. There is nothing to be embarrassed about, or shouldn’t be. Pleasuring you, following your orders, is my duty. What I want to do.”

“What if ...” She swallowed. He slipped his hands down her arms, then tangled his fingers with hers. “What if I can’t do it?”

Even as aroused as he was, anger swirled within him. Damn her father and every man she’d ever been involved with before him for making her doubt herself like this. He tried to calm his temper by counting backward from ten. He didn’t want her picking up on it, thinking it was directed toward her. When he spoke, he chose his words carefully.

“You do what you’re comfortable with. You do what you want. There are no preconceived notions in this relationship.”

“I don’t know where to start, what to do.”

“Well, you remember our night together.”

When she spoke, he could hear the smile in her voice. “In Technicolor.”

He chuckled. “Tell me what you liked about it.”

As he waited for her answer, he moved his lips over the tender skin of her neck. He couldn’t resist grabbing a taste of her, almost as if his life depended on it.

“I liked the way you made me feel.”

“Go on.” He switched to the other side of her neck, and she tilted her head to give him better access.

“I liked touching you.”

“Hmmm.” He didn’t say anything else because he was gritting his teeth. She’d leaned back against him, and the fullness of her ass was pressed up against his dick. Every time she shifted her weight, he had to fight not to come then and there.

“There was a point ...” Her voice trailed off as he nipped at her ear. “There was a point where you were sitting in the chair that morning after— well, and a little the night before— and for the first time, I was in charge.”

Little did the woman know she’d probably been in charge since the moment she’d walked through the door and smiled at him.

“How did that make you feel?”

“Powerful.” She sighed. “I know it sounds crazy, but for some reason it aroused me more to tell you what to do.”

Her excitement was growing. He could tell by the deepening of her voice, by the way her breathing had hitched as she told him her thoughts. Lord almighty, she was potent.

“So, you liked telling me what to do?” She nodded. “Why don’t you tell me what you want now?”

She moved her hands to the hem of her shirt to remove it. He stopped her by placing his hands on hers, then turned her to face him. Surprise mixed with arousal darkened her eyes.

“You let me do that, Cynthia. I’m the one here to serve, to make you happy.”

The pulse in her neck jumped, and he hoped it was from anticipation and arousal. She nodded.

As he reached for her, he realized his hands were shaking. It was amazing, considering his state of arousal, that he wasn’t rolling around on the floor, babbling in tongues.

Slowly, inch by inch, he raised her shirt up over her torso until he finally revealed her bra. By the time he’d relieved her of the shirt, his heart was beating so hard, he was amazed he didn’t pass out. He tossed her shirt behind him. Her bra was a far cry from the plain one she’d worn before. There was no fancy lace or designs, but the color grabbed his attention— fire- engine red, with one of those front hooks. Her ivory skin seemed almost translucent against the vivid color. Curling his fingers into the palms of his hands, he fought the urge to brush the backs of his fingers over the swell of her breasts. The memory of circling his tongue around each nipple, remembering how her skin had tasted ...

Biting down on his frustration, he pushed himself to concentrate on Cynthia. Without taking his gaze off her, he asked, “What now? What would you like now?”

“My pants.”

He was satisfied that her voice wasn’t much steadier than his was. He still couldn’t look up. If her eyes reflected a smidgen of the lust he heard in her voice, he’d definitely lose all rational thought. He’d strip her naked and slip his cock into her pussy before he’d had a chance to control himself.

After unsnapping her pants, he slipped his fingers down to unzip them, allowing the backs of his fingers to trail down her abdomen. The muscles quivered beneath them. He removed her pants, slowly sliding them down her legs. When he first saw the little matching panties, he about died. They barely covered her, and the sheer lace revealed more than it concealed. He could see right through them. The one thing he didn’t see was hair.

As he finally stood, his cock brushed against her stomach. His balls twisted, his heart pounded, and he was thankful that she wasn’t in the role of a true Domme. He was sure he’d embarrass himself if she were really in control.

Licking his lips, he asked, “What would you like now?”

She didn’t say anything, but she captured his gaze, mischief sparkling in the depths of her eyes. Only inches separated them. Reaching out, she placed her hands on his chest. They were cool against his heated skin. Lightly, she moved them over his skin, her attention dropping from his face to her actions.

Her touch was absolutely amazing. She dipped one hand and glided it over his nipple.

His quickly drawn breath must have told her his reaction. Curling his toes into the carpet, he watched as her lips quirked and she leaned forward. Removing her hand, she replaced it with her mouth. Her tongue swiped over the nipple. A jolt of desire rose swiftly and then sped through his system. He could smell her shampoo, the perfume that haunted his memories.

When she finished tormenting that nipple, she kissed her way over to his other, giving it the same treatment.

By the time she was finished, his breathing had deepened, his body was screaming for release, and all she had done was lick him. Without a word, she slipped her hands down his body to his boxers. She grabbed the waistband and pulled down, helping him step out of them and then tossing them aside. As she stood, her breasts brushed against his cock. The touch of her hardened nipples against his flesh caused a drop of cum to bead in the slit of his cockhead. He didn’t know if it had been on purpose until he noticed the cocky little grin on her face.

“So, now you do what I want?”

Her voice was stronger now, and more arousal definitely threaded her words. What she had done to him had excited her as much as it had excited him.

“Hmmm. Should it be something I want to have done to me? Or something I want to do to you?”

The playfulness in her voice sank beneath his skin, into his mind, and aroused him more. She was getting into it, he could tell. He reminded himself to take it slow, no matter how much he wanted to take it faster.

“That would be up to you, Cynthia. Whatever you want to do.”

She sighed. Cocking her head to one side, she stepped back, then allowed her gaze to roam down his body again. As she slowly studied him, it was if her hands were on him, traveling over his skin, driving him mad, pushing him closer to the edge.

“I think I need to catch up with you; I have too many clothes on. And then maybe we can work on just what you can do to make me happy.”

If there had been any way to ignore the pulsing lust in his blood, he might have been trying to guide her. But truth was, the way she talked, the way she was ordering him around, had him practically drooling. The woman might be a novice, but Lord help him, she knew how to push the right buttons. He could tell what they were doing was exciting her.

He slowly unfastened the front closure of her bra, slipping his hands beneath the fabric to move it aside. Brushing his thumb over a nipple, he smiled when she shivered. He cupped her breast while moving his other hand beneath the bra strap. Easing first one strap, then the other, he allowed the bra to fall to the floor. He covered her other breast with his hand, enjoying the contrast in their skin tones. Even flushed with arousal, her skin was delicate ivory. And that made a delicious contrast to the woman he knew lurked somewhere inside of her.

By the time he slid his hands to her panties, both of them were breathing heavily. He slipped his fingers beneath the lacy waistband, then slid those sinful red panties down her creamy thighs. He brushed his fingers against the backs of her knees as he passed them.

When she almost lost her balance, he smiled. He continued to trail his fingers down her legs until he reached her ankles and helped her step out of the scrap of fabric. She got up on the bed. Once she settled, he took a good, hard look at her and confirmed his suspicions. She’d shaved her pussy bare. An extra pulse twitched in his shaft, and he gave it one stroke, hoping to calm it a bit.

Her eyes narrowed at his action. “You’re not starting without me, are you?”

The authority in her voice surprised him enough to drop his hands back down to his side. She smiled at him.

As he looked down at her stretched out naked on his bed, his heart stopped. She looked perfect, as if his bed had been waiting for her.

She patted the space beside her. “Come on, Chris.”

He slid onto the bed next to her. As he turned to take her into his arms, she shook her head.

“Hmm, I don’t think so.” She closed her eyes and rested her head on the stack of pillows behind her. “What I would like is for you to please me.”

Okay, he didn’t want to do that. Oh, he liked playing, but it had been too long, and frustration at the game— even though he had started it— made his voice rougher than usual.

“And how do you suggest I go about that, Cynthia?”

She frowned, but didn’t open her eyes. “There’s no need to get so upset. I’m not really sure how to go about this. I mean, how do I tell you how to do things?”

The worry in her voice brought him back to his senses. He needed to remember that for Cynthia, this was new; this wasn’t something she thought would be for her. “Why don’t I just start, and you tell me what you like, what you don’t like, and we work from there?”

She caught her lip between her teeth and nodded.

Cautiously, he leaned forward and rasped his tongue over her nipple. He sighed deeply and took the nipple into his mouth, sucking on it while he moved his other hand up her body to her other breast. He rolled the nipple between his thumb and forefinger as he continued to work the other with his mouth. He worked both until they stood at attention.

He lifted his head and smiled. “So, what would you like for me to do now?”

Without opening her eyes, she took him by the back of the neck and pulled him down for a wet, almost- make- him- come kiss. Even as her tongue stole past his lips, she grabbed his hand and dragged it down to her pussy. Damp heat warmed his hand, and when he moved it against her, her juices wet his hand.

She broke away from the kiss to emit a deep- throated moan that ran down his spine. “Use your fingers.”

Wanting to push her further into her role, he teased, “But I am.”

She opened her eyes slightly and frowned at him. “Slip them inside.”

He did, without breaking eye contact, and was thrilled to see her eyes go blank with passion, then slip shut as her muscles clamped down on his fingers. He continued his movements, and every so often he brushed against her clit. Soon, her hips were moving in rhythm with his fingers. He could tell from her movements that she was getting frustrated. A moment later, she opened her eyes and said, “I want your mouth on me.”

“Hmmm.” He pulled his fingers out, brushing against her clit one last time. He lifted himself up and then settled between her legs, his head just above her belly. Kissing her navel, he smiled when she sighed, the sound filled with irritation.

“Not there.”

He looked up and cocked an eyebrow, then leaned forward to kiss just below her navel.

“How about here?”

Her fingers grabbed the quilt. “No.”

Moving an inch lower, he kissed her again, this time swiping his tongue against her skin. “Here?”

She growled, the sound of it music to his ears. Every time she got pushed like that, she growled and started barking out orders.

“No.” Lifting herself to her elbow, she looked down at him. “I want your mouth on my pussy.”

There was no doubt in his mind that that had been an order. He ducked his head to hide the smile that curved his lips. She might take it the wrong way. Pride marched hand in hand with arousal. He moved down and lowered his mouth to just inches away from her.

Taking a deep breath, he drank in the musky scent of her arousal. Anticipation skated along his nerve endings as he bent his mouth and touched it to her sex.

Sweet, hot, with just a touch of spice, she tasted better than he remembered. His tongue dove between her drenched folds and then slid up to tease her clit. He continued this pattern, slipping inside, teasing that hard clit, until she moved her legs to rest on his shoulders. As he felt his own body responding more, his balls drawing tight, his cock ready to explode, he slid his hands beneath her ass, lifting her closer. He couldn’t get enough of her. Nothing had ever tasted as good as Cynthia.

He concentrated on her clit and then slipped a finger inside of her. Holy Jesus. Her muscles clamped down hard around him again, and all he could think of was what it would feel like to thrust his cock back into that tight little cunt.

Her moans increased, and her hands came to rest on his head, keeping him in place as he feasted. He increased the suction on her clit, and she came apart a moment later, her name on his lips as she convulsed.

“Oh, fuck yes, Chris!”

He lifted his head, but had little time to enjoy the view as she was already tugging him up. Without another thought, he obeyed, moving up her body and entering her in one hard thrust.

Never before had it felt so right. He pushed himself up to his hands, her legs still draped over his shoulders, and began to move. Cynthia twisted her head from side to side, and he felt her body readying for another orgasm. He changed the angle of his thrusts and pushed her over the edge. As her muscles clamped tightly around his cock, they pulled him into his own orgasm, his mind going blank to everything but pleasure.

Chapter Ten

Cynthia pulled the black shirt over her head and studied herself in the department store mirror. The neckline dipped lower than she usually wore, revealing a bit of cleavage.

She wasn’t sure black was really a good color on her, but she wanted to get everything right for that night.

“Are you finished yet? Let me see it,” May said from the other side of the door.

Cynthia opened the door and stepped out, expecting May to tell her it looked horrible.

Instead, May smiled as she studied her outfit. “Ahh, sista, you’re going to drive Chris crazy in that.”

“Really?” She walked over to the three- way mirror and studied herself again. The shirt was a soft, sleeveless knit that hugged her breasts and tucked into a long, straight, tight black skirt. “It isn’t my sort of thing, and I have gained a few pounds since I moved here.”

May stepped up behind her and met her gaze in the mirror. “One of the reasons Chris is going to love it is because it’s different. Change is good.” She pulled the collar to stand up, and Cynthia had to admit it did add a bit to the outfit. “And in the two months you’ve been here, you’ve put on, what, three pounds?”

Cynthia snorted, and May smiled at her. Since she’d settled, Cynthia and May had become good friends. The young woman was honest to a fault, but most people didn’t take offense because she always used humor to soften the blow. She’d been instrumental in helping Cynthia search different locations for her bakery, even though she wasn’t completely sure she was opening one yet. Chris kept urging her to do it, but she didn’t want to do anything too quickly.

“More like ten.”

“You’re still too skinny.”

Cynthia laughed. “If you say so.” She studied herself in the mirror again and noted the way the shirt hugged her breasts. Turning, she took in the view and realized that she could almost make out the shape of her ass. “I’m not going to be able to wear any panties with this.”

Maylea giggled. “Yeah, you’re going to drive him crazy.”

A few hours later she soaked in the tub, reading one of the books Chris had lent her.

Over the last couple of months, she had read a lot of books on bondage and domination. Each time they’d made love, she took it a little farther. The power from taking control, from being the one who was in charge, aroused her more each time. At first, it had been just orders— massage my back, rub my feet, eat my pussy. Each time, she would take it further, and the bond between them strengthened. The depth of his passion would sometimes scare the hell out of her. Cynthia was still not completely comfortable with outward displays of affection, but whenever she was near, he touched her. And in the bedroom, there was no way she could keep her hands off him.

They’d experimented with everything from little things like him licking whipped cream off her body, to the request that left him speechless: anal sex. Even she had been shocked by her interest in it. But after reading Screw the Roses, Send Me the Thorns, she was intrigued. After scouring the Internet, she’d found several works of erotica that went into vivid detail, and she couldn’t get it out of her mind. He’d slowly introduced her to the sensations, starting out with a butt plug, but a few nights earlier, they’d had their first round of anal sex. And now, she was going to take the biggest risk of all.

Tonight, unbeknownst to Chris, Cynthia had decided she wanted to take complete control.

She had done a lot of soul searching about it, and she knew she was ready. The confidence she’d gained in the last couple of months made it possible. She’d gone shopping at a toy store with May, who apparently knew the staff by first name, and found all kinds of fun things. She couldn’t wait to use the new pair of cuffs on Chris.

An hour later, she put the finishing touches on her makeup— including red lipstick— and then sat down to put on the boots she’d bought to go with the outfit. She hoped he didn’t think it was too trite that she’d bought a pair of “fuck me” boots, but they had called to her the moment she’d seen them. Black leather knee- high boots, zipped up the side, but with decorative laces up the front. Just like the outfit, they were something she would have never worn six months ago. She wanted to look as different as she felt.

She stood after zipping up the second boot and looked at herself, wondering just who the hell she was. Where had this woman come from?

Her hair was now a bit longer and completely out of control. She didn’t even try to get the curl out of it, letting the soft waves frame her face. The pounds she had added through healthy eating— or as May put it, “eating something other than rabbit food and water”— looked good on her. They added a softness to her features that had not been there before.

Her face was no longer as angular as it had been. She pulled her shoulders back and stood straight. It wasn’t until that moment that she noticed just how different she must look to other people.

She pulled herself out of her thoughts and glanced at the clock. Chris was working but was supposed to be done by six. Barring any problems on Kamehameha Highway, she had just enough time to drive from her house to his.

One last look in the mirror, and then she grabbed her purse and headed out the door.

As she drove down the road, her cell phone rang with the tune of “Georgia.”

“Anna, shouldn’t you be in bed?”

Her friend laughed. “Should be, was, now he’s sleeping like a log. What are you doing?”

“I’m heading to Honolulu. I’ve got a date with Chris.”

“Did you look at any more places? If you needed any help, I could fly over ... well, we would, because you know what Max said after our last overnight excursion.”

“I want to know how he found out about the tattoo.”

“Because I got one, and he said something about how you must have been shocked, and I said no, she got one on her ass.”

Cynthia should’ve been embarrassed, but it made her laugh. “I’m not sure I believe you.”

“It’s not like I shouted it to the world. Besides, I bet Chris loved it.”

Cynthia remembered her first night back, when he’d been giving her a back massage later that evening and saw the little butterfly on her rear end. He’d lost all control at that point, pulling her up to her knees and taking her from behind. Fast, furious, he’d pushed her over the crest into a shattering orgasm, following her only moments later.

“Yes, he did.”

“So, you need help shopping?”

“Anna, if you want to come here, why not just come? It isn’t like you two can’t afford a trip.”

“Well, I can get away now that my new manager at the Valdosta store seems comfortable with running the store. I just didn’t want to crowd you, make you think you had to entertain us.”

“Oh, you expected me to spend time with you?”

“Bitch. Okay, I’ll let you go. Give Chris a kiss for me.”

She made it to Dupree’s in record time. It was busy, being a Friday, and it took her a few minutes to find a parking space. Her nerves started jumping the moment she stepped out of her car. She hoped to God she didn’t make a fool of herself tonight.

As she walked past several groups of waiting patrons, she felt the attention of several men and hoped that boded well for her. She entered the restaurant and smiled at May, who was talking to some customers. Scanning the room, she found Chris chatting with Randy, one of the bartenders. She thought about waiting until he noticed she was there, but decided against it. They were joking around, from the looks of it, so she went to him. Winding her way through the numerous tables, she finally reached him and, without a word, slipped her hand around his waist and leaned against him, her breasts pressing against his back.

“How is everything going?” she asked.

He placed his hands over hers. “Pretty good. Busy night, but with May back up to full speed, shouldn’t be a problem getting away.”

He pulled away and turned to face her. The moment he saw her, he froze. The people in the restaurant faded, and all she could see was Chris. She was sure everyone could hear her heart beat against her chest as she waited for him to say something. He kept staring down at her with an arrested look on his face. After a few moments, he swallowed— hard.

When he still didn’t say anything, she began to feel self- conscious. She shifted her weight from one foot to the other, her heart lodged somewhere in her throat.

Finally, he shook his head, and when he spoke, his voice was strangely neutral. “Is that a new outfit?”

She smiled. “Yes, I bought it today when May and I were out shopping. Do you like it?”

She turned in a circle to let him see how it looked from behind. Before she finished her rotation, he grabbed her hand and was dragging her toward the door. “Chris. Stop.”

He’d almost reached the door by the time he obeyed the order and turned to face her.

“We’re having dinner here tonight. I made reservations with May today.”

“You want to stay here and eat?” He sounded incredulous, and the look on his face caused her to rethink her plans, for just a minute. An instant later, she bolstered her resolution to do this the right way.

“Yes. I expect you to do what I want.” This time she made sure her voice held more authority.

He continued to stare down her. An emotion she couldn’t pin down came and went within his eyes, but she had an idea he was catching on. Cynthia glanced down at his hold on her wrist, then back up at him with one eyebrow raised. Without her having to say a word, he understood and dropped her wrist.

She glanced over her shoulder and found May standing a few feet away. “May, is our table ready?”

“Yes. If you will follow me?” Her voice held a note of amusement, although May had no idea what it was all about.

Once they were seated, they ordered drinks and their meal. Chris seemed antsy, shifting his weight from side to side in his chair.

“Is there something wrong?”

He gave her a long look. “No, I just thought we— ”

“You thought we were going back to your place.”

Frowning, he waited until the waiter delivered their drinks and left. “That was the plan.”

“That was your plan. This is mine.”

“You came in here dressed like that, and you expect me to just wait?”

“Yes.” He grumbled something under his breath, and she smiled as she took a drink of her wine. “Do you like what I am wearing? It’s a little different from what I normally wear.”

He snorted, something very out of character for him. She could tell he was frustrated, and she planned to push it to the limit.

“You have to ask if I like it?”

She nodded.

“Of course I like it.” He leaned forward and lowered his voice. “I want to strip every piece of clothing off you and fuck you.” It wasn’t so much a threat as a promise.

Oh, my. “Really? Hmmm.”

She didn’t say another word as he leaned back, studying her. She took another sip of wine, hoping her heart would slow down. Just the sound of his voice deepening had her creaming herself. Resisting the urge to squirm to relieve the pressure that had built up between her legs, Cynthia set her wineglass back on the table.

She licked her lips, and he followed the movement with his gaze. It was then that she noticed one of his hands was not on the table. “You’re not touching yourself, are you?”

Again, he frowned. Slowly, he lifted his hand from beneath the table. She smiled at him in response.

“You seem to be somewhat confused here, Chris.”

He leaned back in his chair, his eyebrows knitted in confusion. “And what do I seem confused about?”

Drawing in a deep breath— which caused his gaze to lower to her breasts for a second before moving back up to her face— she decided to lay down the law.

“See, what is important here is what I want. Now, you said you would like to make love— ”

“No, I said I wanted to fuck you.”

Oh, so he wanted to be petulant. She didn’t dare smile, but it was hard not to. Chris wanted this as much as she, but he wasn’t ready to completely give control over to her. Too bad; she was ready to take it.

“Well, that may happen, but only if you’re a good boy.”

He didn’t say a word. His eyes narrowed, and his nostrils flared. She knew he liked playing the role of submissive at times, but she also knew something about his basic nature made it hard for him.

“And just what do I have to do to be considered a good boy?”

Lord, his voice was lethal. He was irritated, frustrated, and it came through in his voice. At any other time, she would worry about that tone, but she knew it had more to do with arousal than anger.

She thought it was hard for him? Jeez, she was about to come just from the word play.

Chris might think that he was having a bad night, having to wait, but it was harder on her.

Arousal hummed through her, coursing through her blood. She knew it would be exciting, that this was exactly what she wanted, but she’d never expected it to get her just so hot. All without touching him.

“Well.” She cleared her throat. “First, we’re going to have dinner. Then we’ll see what happens after that.”

As Michelle placed their meals in front of them, Chris resisted the urge to growl.

Frustrated didn’t even begin to describe how he felt. When he’d seen the way she was dressed, the way the fabric clung to her curves, the sexy boots, the only thought he’d had was to strip her naked and fuck her. What was pushing him closer to the edge was her little game. That Cynthia had decided to play the role of a complete Domme was as exciting as it was irritating.

She leaned forward, closed her eyes, and drew in a deep breath, affording Chris an excellent view of her cleavage. Her skin still looked like sculpted ivory, but there was a healthy glow to it now.

“Hmm, something sure smells good.” After making that statement, she sat back, the satisfied smile on her face telling him she knew just what she was doing. She twirled the linguine around her fork and raised it to her mouth, then stopped, looking at his plate.

“Aren’t you going to eat?”

Chris comforted himself with the thought that this would somehow pay off in the end.

Without a word, he picked up his fork and dug into his meal.

“You know, I didn’t know you would take this so badly, Chris.”

He swallowed his fish before answering. “Take what so badly? Being teased?”

She pushed her lower lip out in a perfect pout. “I’m not teasing you.”

“What do you call it?”

She blinked, apparently taken aback by his irritated tone. “Foreplay.”

He would give her that. But if she kept pushing him like she was, he wouldn’t make it through dinner. He was amazed the table wasn’t rising from the erection she’d inspired.

They ate in silence for a few minutes, and then she sat back in her chair and studied him.

“I’m confused, Chris. You said you wanted this, that this would be good for me.”

He had; he just hadn’t known she would take to the role so well. It was a dream come true, but as his mamma said, he should be careful what he wished for.

“I’m frustrated.” He could barely bite out the words.

She smiled, and just like the first time he’d seen her smile all those months ago in Georgia, he was mesmerized. When she truly smiled, her dimples came out in full force, and it never failed to make his heart flip over. It made him feel like he owned the world.

“You’ve griped a bit, but you’ve behaved a little.” She sipped her wine. “Why don’t you tell me what you would like to do tonight?”

“I told you.”

She sighed, pulling on the bottom of her sweater. He noticed her hardened nipples pressing against the knit fabric.

“I’d like to find out if you’re wearing anything beneath that outfit.”

“What do you think?”

He studied her intently, looking for any hint of a bra. “I don’t think so.”

She smiled, coyly this time. “Why, Mr. Dupree, are you saying I would run around without anything on beneath my clothes?”

Another wave of lust spiraled through his blood as it rushed to his groin. Her voice had deepened into that upper- crust Georgia accent he loved so much. She used it to tease him.

“Ms. Myers, I do believe you would.”

Her smile widened, her eyes sparkling. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“I doubt anyone I know would think that I would run around braless.”

“They don’t know you as well as I do.”

She crossed her arms beneath her breasts and leaned forward. Her gaze never wavered as she said, “Why don’t you give that pretty, fat cock a stroke for me?”

He dropped his fork on his plate, his body going rigid. Okay, he hadn’t expected her to be so bold, and damn!

She sat back and frowned at him. “Are you not going to do what I say?”

Immediately, he slipped his hand beneath the table, thankful they had tablecloths at Dupree’s, and gave his shaft a long, leisurely stroke. As his fingers moved over the fabric of his jeans, he closed his eyes, enjoying the sweet torture. It didn’t even get close to helping, as the stiff fabric made it difficult to apply the right pressure. Still, it was better than nothing at the moment. And knowing the game, he put his hand back on the table.

“Very good. Are you ready to go?”

He nodded, and she motioned to Michelle, handing over her credit card. As they waited for Michelle to return, she told him her plans— or at least part of her plans.

“I think tonight we should go to my place.”

She smiled after that statement. He knew why without asking. It was only twenty minutes to his house, a possible forty to hers. She was so going to pay for this. Within minutes they were speeding along H- 1 in her car, Chris driving.

She kept the conversation light but continually touched him. A stroke on his thigh, her fingers sliding down his bare arm. By the time they reached her house, he didn’t think he’d be able to walk, he was in so much pain. After he parked the car, she waited for him to open her door.

He followed her up the steps, watching the sway of her ass beneath the black fabric.

Even with what little light there was, he could tell she wasn’t wearing panties, either. Lord, have mercy.

Unlocking the door, she led him into her living area. As usual, he removed his shoes and left them by the door, but he noticed she didn’t remove her boots. Anticipation crawled through him, as he’d hoped she’d leave them on.

She dropped her purse onto the coffee table, then grabbed his hand, slowly leading him back to her bedroom. Once there, she sat down on her bed and smiled. Again his heart did that strange little flip in his chest.

She leaned back on her elbows, crossed her legs, and said, “Strip.”

Chapter Eleven

Cynthia amazed herself by talking in a normal voice. She was so sure it would come out as a request and not a demand when she’d said it. But, instead, her voice rang with authority.

He hesitated for a moment, but she figured it had more to do with being shocked than any kind of rebellion. A moment later, he placed his hands on the button to his jeans.

“No, the shirt.”

He paused, then grabbed hold of the shirt and tugged it off. She sighed over the beauty of his body. She shouldn’t be so shallow, but she couldn’t stop the thrill she felt in looking him over.

Tossing the shirt behind him, he stood, waiting. Ahh, he’s definitely making this fun, she thought as a surge of heat coiled in her stomach.

“Now, the pants.”

Slowly, he unbuttoned then unzipped his jeans. He pulled them down and kicked them aside, then stood straight again. His erection pressed against his knit boxer shorts, a telltale circle of wetness near the head of his penis. She stood and approached him.

“You’ve been very good.” She smiled at him. “You may remove my boots.”

She motioned for him to sit on the bed and told him to scoot back from the edge.

When he complied, she lifted her leg, placing her foot between his legs. He tugged on the zipper and allowed his fingers to follow the path it took as he slid it down. A rush of tingles followed the motion, her head spinning with a heady mix of arousal and adrenaline. She didn’t call him on it, just looked down at him and frowned. Stepping back, she put the other foot up; he did the exact same thing. If it hadn’t felt so good, she would have punished him, but he had been so sneaky in the way that he’d done it, she decided to let it slip by this time.

“Stand up.”

He did, but didn’t rush it. Her mistake had been not moving back to allow him room.

As he rose, he brushed his body against hers. She could’ve stepped back, but it would have been a sign of weakness. His chest moved against her breasts, sliding the fabric over her already hardened nipples, rasping against the sensitive skin. By the time he was standing upright, his erection hard against her stomach, both of them were breathing deeper.

He was pushing her, testing her, and dammit, she was already creaming. She didn’t need him to do this, but in a way, she approved. It was his job to submit, but that didn’t mean he had to do it without any resistance.

Cynthia caught his attention, then decisively stepped back, letting him know she wasn’t fooled by the innocent look he was giving her. “Now your boxers.”

He smiled, probably because her voice was throatier than it had been before, but he did her bidding. Once he had them off, he stood before her, completely nude and completely beautiful.

Would she ever get used to seeing him? Would she ever get used to the fact that he was hers for the taking? Probably not. Of course he was ready for her, as always. His cock, already aroused, thick, with a drop of cum wetting the head, curved up to his stomach. She couldn’t resist reaching out and brushing her thumb over the tip. Swiping the pearl of cum off, she lifted her thumb to her mouth and licked. He groaned, but she ignored him, enjoying the salty taste of him.

“Hmm, you taste good, but I tell you that all the time.”

He didn’t say anything, but his nostrils flared, and she noticed his fingers curving into his palms. This was killing him, the poor baby.

“You’ve been pretty good, so I will reward you.”

She stepped back again, needing the space, and pulled her sweater up over her head. By the time she could see him again, his eyes were feasting on the sight of her bare breasts. The cool air washed over her sensitized skin, combining with his heated gaze, and she felt her control slip a bit.

“Lie down on the bed, big boy. I have a present for you.”

He hesitated. His gaze dipped to her breasts again, and he licked his lips, then climbed onto the bed. She opened her dresser drawer and pulled out the set of cuffs she’d bought the day before. When Chris saw what she held in her hands, his eyes darkened and his breathing hitched.

She placed them on the table, then shimmied out of her skirt, happy to see the way he watched her every move, his attention immediately moving to her pussy. She’d kept herself shaved bare, and she knew he liked it. Her choice to go without panties had been twofold.

She liked the feeling of not wearing anything under her clothes— there was something very freeing about it. The second reason was the skirt she’d worn. The way the fabric had clung to her, she’d known Chris would wonder about the absence of panty lines. It would drive him insane thinking about her sitting there with no panties.

Then, without a word to him, she grabbed the cuffs, climbed onto the bed, and straddled him. Leaning forward, her breasts grazed his chest. She could feel his breath against her skin as she unsnapped the cuffs and slipped one over his wrist. Then she slipped the chain between the two slats in her headboard. That accomplished, she slipped the remaining cuff over his free arm. When she finished, she slipped her fingers beneath each restraint to make sure they weren’t too tight. Then she sat up, pressing down on his arousal.

He groaned, causing her to smile. She couldn’t wait to get that thick cock inside of her, but she did want to play a bit more.

She pressed her mouth to his, slipping her tongue in to mate with his. Hips gyrating, she moved against his cock and had to control the impulse to press harder, to push herself over the edge. She was close. Another gush of cream wet her pussy. Pulling away from the kiss, she moved down his body, licking and nipping her way along, enjoying the salty taste of his skin and the scent of his cologne. She reached his penis and sighed. Before meeting Chris, she’d had little to no interest in cocks, or the way they looked. But from their first night, she had become obsessed.

She wrapped her hand around the base of his cock and began stroking.

“Ahh, that’s nice, Chris. You do have the most gorgeous cock.” She bent over to lick a pearl of cum that had surfaced as she continued pumping him. Reaching beneath, she slipped her hand over his scrotum and was rewarded when his shaft jerked against her hand.

“Now, let’s see if I can make you happy.”

Chris had thought Cynthia would be dangerous when she realized her potential. He’d miscalculated just how dangerous. Damn, she was driving him crazy. She’d slowed her rhythm, which had pushed him close to the edge, but kept him hovering, not allowing him to go over.

She licked his cockhead again, her tongue pausing over the hole and then moving on.

Holy Christ, this was hell. He couldn’t move his hands to touch her. He’d never been so turned on in his life, or so frustrated. What she was doing to him was only half of it. Seeing her take control, the sound of her voice as she stated what she wanted, the way she held herself— they all added up to one major turn on. That, coupled with the magic she was performing with her mouth and hands ... he was amazed he didn’t pass out on the spot.

Lowering her head, she took the very tip of his dick in her mouth, swiped her tongue over it again, and hummed. Holy fucking hell! The vibrations moved down his cock, past his balls, and spread throughout his body. She gave him one last swipe with her tongue and then moved away. The smile curving her lips told him that she knew just what she had done to him.

She leaned over and grabbed something off the table. Next, she was ripping a condom wrapper open. Pinching the end of it, she rolled it down on him, then moved over him. A moment later she was sliding down on him. He closed his eyes, enjoying the feel of her muscles grasping his cock. Damn, she was slick, wetter than he’d ever felt her. Soon she was moving on him, murmuring his name.

“Oh, yes, oh, Chris.” He could feel her orgasm approaching, her muscles contracting, pulling him deeper. “Fuck me, Chris, do it.”

With that order, and the feel of her pussy pulling on his dick, he exploded, jerking his pelvis upward as she slammed down on him. She continued to move, milking his orgasm and triggering her own.

“Chris, baby, yes.”

A moment later she fumbled with the cuffs, releasing him, before she collapsed against him. He still pulsed within her as he felt her body completely relax into sleep. Skimming his hand down her spine, he cupped her ass. Not too shabby for a first- time Domme. True, she hadn’t taken it as far as she could have, but Lord knew, any further might have killed him.

Now that she had discovered her dominant side, would she be willing to give it up to explore her submissive side? If everything went as planned, he’d be able to answer that question soon.

A week later, Cynthia and Chris sat on his lanai, enjoying a mild afternoon, watching the waves and the windsurfers below. She’d never felt so complete, she thought, as she leaned against him and sipped at her margarita. She never would have guessed a year ago that she would enjoy anal sex and handcuffing her partner to the bed.

On top of that, they seemed to have grown closer, both of them accepting her nature for what it was. Each time they made love, the connection between them grew stronger. For some reason, their relationship made her think of herself as stronger, even outside of the bedroom.

“Remember the first night you arrived, when I told you about being a switch?” Chris asked.

She nodded and took another drink, allowing her muscles to relax further. She’d been searching for a store location for her bakery over the past few days, and it had been a lesson in frustration. By the end of the week she’d been ready to scream. If one location was too expensive, the next was in a horrible location.

“I said I liked to play the role of both the submissive and the dominant, remember?”

She took note of Chris’s tone all of the sudden and realized that he was trying to tell her something. Sitting up, she turned and faced him. The expression on his face had her worried.

“Yes, I remember.” She barely got the words out. Fear was clogging her throat as she tried to figure out just what he was getting at. They’d made love almost every night for the last two months, and not once had he complained. In fact, he seemed not to be able to get enough of her.

“Well, I want to try that with you.”

Wary now, she pulled further away and studied him. Confusion weighed down on her, her mind tumbling through the possibilities he might be implying.

“I’m confused.”

He took her margarita glass out of her hands and placed it on the ground beside her.

Then he pressed her hands between his.

“What I saw in you, what I understood about you from the beginning, is that you might be a switch like me.”

She shook her head, but he nodded.

“Generally, before you became a Domme you would have experienced being a sub. But I did it differently with you. You weren’t ... ready for that.”

“Chris, I don’t understand.”

Panic was now running full force through her blood. This wasn’t what she expected from him. He met her gaze and said, “I love you, Cynthia. I think I have since I saw you burst into that dressing room at the church. But what I want— no, what I need— is for you to relinquish your dominant role.”

Anger rose swiftly, her heart now pounding hard against her chest. “This was all some sort of plan?”

He shook his head. “No. I just went about it differently.”

“And so you lied.”

She fairly spat the words. Rising to her feet, she fought the tears that threatened to fall.

Why had she thought he would be different than anyone else? She had to get away from him, or else she would cry in front of him, and she refused to do that. Stepping over him, she went inside to get her purse. He followed on her heels.

“Cynthia, I didn’t lie.”

She stopped, and he practically plowed into her back. Turning to face him, she didn’t even try to mask her anger ... her hurt.

“Yes, you did. You told me this was about something different. But all along you had another plan, something you wanted to do. It wasn’t even about me. It was about you controlling everything. You want me to give up the power I’ve gained. Don’t you understand what that will mean for me?” The hitch in her voice when she asked the question embarrassed her. He had to know this wasn’t easy, that this could destroy her.

Without blinking, he said, “Yes.”

His audacity, his arrogance, made her voice even colder than she’d expected.

“Well, fuck you, too.”

With that, she turned and left him, even as he called out her name. She ran away like a coward, not able to face him, to fight him. She didn’t want that. Slipping into her car, she saw him rush out of the house, but all he did was stop and stare at her. Her heart was breaking, and he was to blame, dammit.

She put the car in reverse and left him, and all his little games. As she drove down H- 1, the tears came. There was no sobbing, just a steady stream of tears pouring down her face.

How could she have been so stupid?

Concentrating on her driving, she tried her best to put her thoughts aside until she got home. Then she would rant, rave, and really cry. Thirty minutes later she pulled into her carport and noticed someone was on her porch. When she stepped out of her car, the person stood up, and her heart dropped to her stomach when she recognized her father. It was then that she noticed the rental car parked beside her mailbox.

Well, today just keeps getting better. She walked up the steps to the porch, but didn’t say a word. They just stared at each other, in a silent contest to see who would crack first.

She was pleasantly surprised with the result.

“I was wondering when you’d get home.”

Her father’s tone held a note of censure, but she ignored it. “What are you doing here, Father?”

“I’d like to convince you to come home.”

She shook her head.

“I need you back home. Your mother has been beside herself.” He sounded sincere, but then, she’d heard her father lie constantly, and no one had ever caught on. He looked tired, though, as if the weight of the world sat on his shoulders.

Cynthia shook her head, sadness bearing down on her. Everything that had happened with Chris, and now this? Life was just not fair.

“I was in Georgia for my thirtieth birthday. No one contacted me.” She sent him a disgusted look. “You don’t care about me; you care about the money I inherited.”

“It has nothing to do with the money.”

“Really?” She crossed her arms beneath her breasts. She could tell her father was a little taken aback by her behavior. Usually by now she was doing whatever he wanted. No scenes. No emotional outbursts.

“Is that what that slime you’re fucking told you to say?”

Again, anger built within her. She might be pissed at Chris, but her father would not put down the man she loved. The man she needed.

“I’d use my words carefully, if I were you.” Her voice had turned threatening, but her father was warming up to his subject and didn’t take note.

“I know what you’ve been doing, shopping in stores filled with trash, and now you’re sleeping with trash. You should be ashamed of yourself.”

Her throat burned with the need to yell at him, but she refused to let him see how much he’d hurt her.

She took a step closer and was pleased to see him take a step back in reaction. “Listen, Father. The days when you could tell me what to do, who to do, and when to do it are over. The day you threw me out of the house because I wanted to attend a wedding sealed your fate. And for your information, what I find disgusting is your need to spy on your daughter.”

She swept past him, but he grabbed her arm, hard. His fingers dug into the tender flesh of her upper arm.

“You will do what I say. I need that money.”

As she studied the anger on his face, an ache welled in her heart. For years she’d tried to please him. Nothing had ever been good enough, never would be. He would never accept her for who she was, and she was tired of trying. Jerking her arm away, hoping that the police officer who lived across the street was watching the whole thing, she leaned closer to his face.

“You have no right to my money. You made your bed; you lie in it. If you show up here again, I’ll call the police.”

She turned and unlocked her door, knowing he was watching her every move, probably too confused to think. Without saying anything else, she stepped into her house and shut the door behind her. Moments later, she heard him walk down the steps and heard his car start up. Her cell phone rang; it was Charlie, the cop across the street. After reassuring him that everything was all right, she hung up, then collapsed on her papasan chair.

Closing her eyes, she tried to block out the day’s events, but couldn’t. Her father’s visit— not to see if she was okay, but to get her money. She sighed as a few tears did well up in her eyes. It was wrong, but it still hurt to know her father saw her only as a means to an end.

Her mind turned to Chris and the expression on his face when she’d driven away.

Unwillingly, the stark pain on his face, the devastation, now registered. He hadn’t called, hadn’t followed her. Knowing it could be the last time, he’d let her leave. She knew without being told that he had left everything up to her.

She opened her eyes and jerked upward. He’d left it up to her.

Okay, so all the planning he had done without telling her irritated the living hell out of her. But in the end, even after he’d asked for her submission, he had not told her what he wanted. He’d asked.

Drawing in a deep breath, she began to turn over the memories of the last few months.

They’d shared secrets, desires. His had been to share her with another man, and she’d thought at the time it had been a fantasy. What if that was what he wanted now?

Instead of anger or disgust, arousal pumped through her at the thought. Two men? She tugged her bottom lip between her teeth, waiting for the denial to come, but it didn’t.

She was aroused by the idea. In fact, she was really, really aroused by it. She shivered.

Licking her lips, she realized that she might have made a hasty decision. Fear had pushed her to run away from Chris, but now ... now that she realized he loved her as much as she loved him ... she thought she might be able to take him up on his challenge.

Chapter Twelve

Chris pulled some green peppers out of the bin, shut the drawer, and let the fridge door shut. He was still in the process of chastising himself for the way he’d handled Cynthia. As he washed the peppers, he thought about their argument. Stupid. Impatient and stupid.

Drawing out a knife, he began to chop the peppers. He had lost his patience with her and blurted out his intent. The last week had been everything he’d hoped for. Watching her develop her control over him had been more of a turn- on than he’d expected, but then he’d blown it. Instead of gently easing into the idea, he’d demanded it, like an ass. Lord only knew what she would say when she found out he’d planned on having Evan join them.

Just as he turned on the heat under his sauté pan, the doorbell rang. He knew it wasn’t Cynthia. She had her own key. When he opened the door, he found Evan standing on the porch.

“I went by the restaurant, and they said you called in. You sick?”

“No, come on in.”

Evan followed him into the kitchen, tossing his sunglasses onto the counter. “What’s up?”

Chris turned back to the jambalaya he was cooking. He had to keep busy. “Cynthia and I had a misunderstanding.”

“Don’t tell me; she didn’t go for all the submission and domination stuff. I’m telling you, man, she is just not one who would be comfortable doing that type of stuff. Too uptight.”

Even in his maudlin mood, Chris smiled. “Really? Well, what if I told you that about a week ago she took me to her house, tied me down, then fucked my brains out?”

He had the pleasure of seeing Evan at a complete loss for words. He shook his head, and Chris nodded.

“So what’s the problem?”

“She didn’t want to give it up.”

“A week? You gave the woman a week and then expected her to just give that all back?”

Mentally, Chris kicked himself in the ass again. Damn, he had wanted her so badly, wanted that concession from her, that he had thrown good sense to the wind. Beneath it all, he knew the reason, but he wasn’t about to admit to Evan that he wanted Cynthia to admit she loved him.

Evan brought him out of his thoughts. “So, what happened?”

Chris sighed as he threw the peppers and onions into the heated oil. They sizzled, and a moment later, the scent filled the kitchen. “She freaked, of course. I’m giving her some time; then I’ll call her.”

Evan was opening his mouth to argue when both of them heard the front door click shut.

Cynthia walked up the stairs to Chris’s house. Her nerves stretched thin, her emotions wavering between giddiness and apprehension. After their argument, she wasn’t sure if he’d speak to her again. After her realization earlier that afternoon, she’d been planning. She knew it would take some convincing, but she wanted Chris to know that she was ready for this.

She reached the landing just outside of Chris’s door. The scent of jambalaya drifted from beneath the door, and she sighed. He always cooked while he was trying to think things through, just like she did. After she dug around in her purse for a second or two, she retrieved the key he’d given her and used it to unlock his door. Quietly, she opened the door and stepped over the threshold almost silently, kicking off her sandals. The sound of muffled conversation intertwined with Brother Iz’s music reached her almost immediately. She knew it came from the direction of the kitchen. Chris’s deep, lyrical tones were intertwined with another deep male voice.

She shut the door with an audible click and sucked in a huge breath. The sound of footsteps sounded against his tiled floor. Licking her lips, she fought the urge to turn and run out the door. The moment he appeared in the doorway to the kitchen, she knew she’d made the right decision. Her stomach was still doing flip- flops, but her heart warmed at the sight of him. It was hard to see his face, with the kitchen light pouring in from behind him. Even so, she saw his eyes widen when he saw who it was.

“I didn’t know if I would see you tonight.”

Not a question, really, but there were a thousand questions in that one statement. In his voice, she heard the same worry she felt, and for some reason her own nerves seemed to settle a little. He was dressed only in a pair of jeans and a T- shirt, his feet bare. She couldn’t take her eyes off him. She was still amazed that he was actually hers.

She smiled. “You told me to think about it.”

He nodded. “What did you decide?”

Her heart melted. The man was too good for her, really. He was standing there, tall and proud, a man who had given her more than she had ever given him, in and out of the bedroom. And he had asked this one thing to make them complete. But even with all his bravado, she sensed the undercurrent of fear. And with that, he completely captured her. No one had ever worried about losing her. Chris not only worried about it, but apparently was afraid of having it happen.

She swallowed the lump in her throat and blinked back tears. “What do you think?”

He studied her for a moment, then slowly, sensually, his lips curved. A jolt of heat speared from her stomach to her pussy. Every nerve ending in her body came to attention.

Damn, all he had to do was smile at her and she was raring to go.

In two giant steps he reached her. Before she could say a word, she was in his arms. He took her mouth with a kiss so forceful it stole her breath and turned her brain to mush. His hands slid from her waist to cup her rear end. Pleasure burst through her as he lifted her, and she wrapped her legs around his waist.

“I don’t mean to intrude ...”

Evan’s amused voice sounded from behind Chris. Chris broke off the kiss and gently set her on the floor, his eyes conveying the question. She looked from Chris to Evan, then back to Chris. Without breaking eye contact, she nodded.

Chris turned to face Evan, pulling her up beside him. “Cynthia has decided she’s ready.”

Evan studied the two of them for a second, then came forward slowly. His easy smile told her he knew exactly what they were talking about. Chris moved behind her, his hands at her waist.

“You know the rules,” Chris said against her ear. His breath was hot against her skin, and she could feel his lips brush the lobe as he spoke. “You have your safe word.”

She nodded as she watched Evan. He reached for her shirt, his gaze never wavering from her face.

“Biscuits.”

Chris’s lips curved against her ear. “I like that. Our roles are now reversed, and unless you say that safe word, I have the power. From now on, you answer only when spoken to. Do you understand, Cynthia?”

“Yes.”

Chris took over the task of pulling off her shirt. Then she felt Evan’s hands on the clasp of her bra. Both garments ended up somewhere on the floor. For the first time, Evan’s gaze roamed down her body, stopping at her breasts. He brushed his thumb over her nipple while Chris unbuttoned and unzipped her jeans. She’d forgone panties, so within moments she stood completely naked between two fully clothed men.

Chris’s mouth brushed against her shoulder as he placed kisses leading to her neck.

Evan dropped to his knees in front of her, putting him at eye level with her breasts. Both of his hands caressed her as he licked her nipples.

“Ahh, you have such pretty little tits, Cynthia.” He took one nipple in his mouth and sucked hard. Chris continued to kiss her neck, but his hands had moved to her ass. His talented fingers drifted over the sensitive skin, sending a rush of heat to her cunt.

“Damn, Chris, is she always this responsive?” Without waiting for an answer, Evan moved to her other breast, pulling her nipple into his mouth, grazing the tip with his teeth.

Chris chuckled. “Always. Isn’t that right, baby?”

“Yes.” Her voice came out as a whisper. She couldn’t fight the heat rising in her body as both men slowly caressed her skin. She knew they were building her up to push her to the edge, and God help her, that excited her more.

Evan pulled back from her breast, his breathing a bit labored. She opened her eyes and looked down at him as Chris’s hands replaced Evan’s mouth on her breasts. Her gaze traveled down Evan’s body until it reached the bulge behind the zipper of his jeans. She couldn’t stop the small smile that came with the knowledge that she could not only turn on Chris, who was now rubbing his jeans- encased cock against her rear, but that she also had Evan hard.

“You proud of yourself, Cynthia? Really think you’re something because you have two men harder than pikes ready to fuck you until you can’t walk?” She heard the warning in Evan’s voice.

“Yes.”

His eyes flared in admiration; then his lips curved. “You no longer hold the Domme role; you are now a sub. Spread your legs. Let me see that pretty pussy.” She hesitated, but not out of fear or embarrassment.

Chris squeezed both nipples. “Spread your legs for him, Cynthia.”

She didn’t hesitate this time, but moved her feet out further. Chris pinched one nipple, then the other as a reward. She bit her lip to keep from groaning. Evan ducked his head and leaned closer to her sex.

After taking a deep breath, he said, “Nothing like the scent of an aroused woman. And I like a shaved pussy.”

He pressed his mouth between her legs, his tongue sliding down her slit while he inserted one finger into her pussy. As he began to move his finger, he brushed his tongue against her clit. Cynthia almost came then and there, and her knees buckled.

“Now, Cynthia, you know you aren’t allowed to come until I say.”

Chris’s voice was stern, but she couldn’t miss that it had deepened, his arousal humming just beneath the surface. The fact that this was turning him on pushed her closer to the edge. Evan added another finger and groaned. He pulled back slightly and looked up at her and Chris. “I think we need to move this to the bedroom, Chris.”

Apparently he interpreted Chris’s expression, because he pulled completely away from her and turned to head to the bedroom. Chris moved his hands from her breasts to her waist, urging her forward. It was hard for her to walk since her body was throbbing. Each step was excruciatingly arousing. Once they reached the bedroom, she noticed that Evan was already undressing. She watched, unable to turn away from the sight in front of her. Chris was gorgeous, the only man she wanted for a lifetime and more. But Evan’s body was harsher, his muscles sculpted from his years in construction. She licked her lips when he pulled down his pants and revealed his throbbing erection. A bit longer than Chris’s cock, Evan’s was not quite as thick. It jutted out from a nest of golden- brown hair, the crown of it purple, with a pearl of cum wetting the head of it. She licked her lips again.

A stinging slap on her rear end broke her attention. “Don’t be bad, Cynthia,” Chris said, but she heard the amusement in his voice. He moved from behind her and was undressed in record time. Then he held his hand out to her. “Come on, baby.”

She smiled at him, and his eyes lit with pleasure. She took his hand and allowed him to guide her to the bed. He pulled open the drawer to the bedside table, retrieving the set of leather cuffs she’d used on him, along with a blindfold.

“Lie down, arms above your head, palms up.”

She did as ordered, allowing him to attach the restraints. Then Evan pulled the blindfold over her eyes. She was thrown into darkness, her other senses immediately taking over. The scent of cooking intermingled with the two distinct males. Evan’s scent was enticing, spicy. But Chris’s aroused her. It called to her, swept through her blood.

“You know the reason for this, of course.” Chris’s voice was huskier. She curled her toes. Then she felt the back of someone’s fingers glide over the side of her breast. “It will heighten your enjoyment. Taking one sense away allows you to the use the others more. You still okay?”

She smiled at the worry in his voice. “Yes.”

She felt a tongue move over her nipple, and she shuddered. The bed dipped on her left side, where Evan had been standing. He lay beside her, the heat of his body warming her.

Nipping at her ear, he rolled her nipple between his fingers, applying just enough pressure.

He soon replaced his fingers with his mouth, grazing his teeth over the tip of her nipple, then sucking hard.

Chris joined them on the bed. He took her lips in a scorching, wet kiss, even as his fingers danced down her body to her cunt. The moment he slipped between her drenched folds, she stiffened. It took everything she had in her not to come. Jesus, what was she going to do with both of them pleasuring her?

Lifting his head so his mouth was just a few inches away, Chris said, “Baby. You’re so wet.” He pressed against her clit, and tension built in her stomach, heat slipping down between her legs. Another gush of cream filled her pussy.

Just as she reached the point she was sure she would come, Chris pulled his hand away with a chuckle. “Not just yet, chéri.”

She groaned, although it came out as more of a growl. Both men chuckled appreciatively, but it didn’t make them move any faster. The both used their hands, their mouths, to push her right to the edge and then pull her back. As she felt Evan’s tongue slide along her soaked channel, he murmured appreciatively, the sound sending a vibration to the very core of her. At that same time, Chris was concentrating on her breasts. His tongue rasped over one nipple, fingers pinching the other. Soon, he had both breasts so sensitive that when he blew on her nipples, she almost came.

A moment later, one of the men unsnapped a restraint and lifted her off the bed and into his lap. She didn’t know who it was until Chris murmured against her ear. The sound of foil ripping told her that Evan was getting a condom ready. Soon, Chris settled her on top of Evan’s body and reattached her cuffs. He pulled off the blindfold.

Even though it wasn’t bright, she blinked at suddenly being thrust back into sight.

Chris moved behind her. She felt the cool lubricant he worked up her ass to prepare her for his entry. He removed his finger and replaced it with his cock. Evan rained kisses over her face as he held her still for Chris’s entry. As before, pain and pleasure intertwined, pushing her deeper into a state of absolute ecstasy. Once Chris had worked his cock all the way up her ass, Evan began to enter her cunt. Even as wet as she was, it was difficult for him to enter.

“It’s okay, baby; you’ll make it.” Chris kept repeating the words over and over as Evan tunneled into her pussy. When he was in her to the hilt, both men began moving in tandem.

Nothing had prepared her for the way the pressure would build, how the pain and pleasure would weave a sensual spell. All thought disappeared as she gave herself over to the pleasure both men gave her.

As their thrusts increased in speed, she shattered, her body breaking into a thousand pieces. Bliss wound through her. Just as she started to come down from her first orgasm, Evan groaned, his body bucking beneath hers, pushing her back up into another orgasm, this one stronger than the first. Just as she came, her body shuddering, Chris shouted her name and followed her into pleasure.

“You know, if I had seen her first, you would have never had a chance at her.”

Chris smiled. “No way. She needed me.”

He walked Evan to the door. The first fingers of dawn were creeping over the ocean, but he was ready to have Cynthia to himself. They had taken her three more times, worked her body over ... he’d lost count of the number of times they’d made her come. The last time, she’d sucked them both dry. Tonight had been an exercise in submission, but it would be the last time. When she woke up, he wanted to be the only one there.

“I guess there won’t be any repeats, from the look on your face.”

“Nope. You need to quit running, man.”

Evan shot him a look. “I’m not running from anything.”

Except the past. Chris let it go, not wanting to ruin the perfect morning. After locking the door behind Evan, Chris hurried back to bed. Throwing his shorts on the chair beside the bed, he slipped beneath the covers and pulled Cynthia into his arms. He sighed as she wiggled her backside against him to get comfortable and then relaxed. As he drifted off to sleep, she whispered, “I love you, Chris.”

“I know, chéri. I love you, too. Now, get some rest.”

Epilogue

One month later

Sweat dripped down Chris’s temple as he released a groan. A moment later, he exploded, his body pulled into another orgasm when Cynthia came, her muscles biting down on his cock. Moments later, she pulled off the bindings, a gift he’d bought her earlier that day, and then collapsed in bed beside him.

“One of these days, you’re going to be the death of me, chéri.”

She chuckled. “Are you complaining?”

“No. No complaints. Except ...” he eyed the digital clock. “You know Max and Anna are landing in about an hour.”

“Damn.” She jumped out of bed and headed toward his bathroom. “I completely forgot about them.”

Chris heard the water start and then the shower door slam shut. “Can’t imagine how that happened.”

He leaned back against the pillows, his muscles relaxed, his body replete. Since the night Cynthia had submitted to him, they’d been practically living together. She was letting Max and Anna stay at her place. Since she’d rented a place for her bakery and was in the middle of redoing the shop, it was easier for the two of them to stay at his place. Her shop was only about a mile from his restaurant.

As he drifted off to sleep, Cynthia’s voice broke into his thoughts.

“You better get that fine ass out of bed, Chris. I’m not picking them up alone at the airport with these hickies on my neck.”

“No one can see them. They’re on the back of your neck.”

“And just why did you do something so juvenile?”

He didn’t answer the absurd question, but did get out of bed. When he reached the bathroom, he opened the shower door to her gasp.

The water dripped down her body, off her nipples; bubbles gathered at the apex of her thighs. He smiled at her as she frowned.

“Chris, we’ll be late if you come in here. Neither of us will be ready in time.”

Ignoring her, he stepped in behind her, slid one had to cover her breast, another down to her pussy. Her body was warm and slick ... and his.

He bent his head and kissed the back of her neck. She shuddered in reaction and pushed her ass back against his growing erection.

“Okay, but if we’re late, Chris, you better have a really good excuse.”

He chuckled, turning her to face him, then went down onto his knees. “Believe me, I have an excellent excuse.”