A Whole New Light (3 page)

Ethan Savage:
I want to take you out for your birthday on Saturday.

He wanted to go out on a date? He was out of his mind.

Violet Moore:
Have you gone crazy?

Ethan Savage:
Yes or no, Violet.

Her nipples hardened into hard little points. This tone, the commanding way he’d spoke in his office. The sharp, dominant nature of his statements, it was the exact kind of thing she’d always fantasized about. But still, it was Ethan!

Why did she have to keep reminding herself?

Violet Moore:
I have plans.

Ethan Savage:
Break them.

Liquid heat pulsed between her legs.
Stop it.

Violet Moore:
Do you expect to be rewarded for your bad behavior?

Ethan Savage:
I expect to be rewarded for making your cunt throb.

She gasped, her head jerking back at his words. Fire licked at her belly all the while denial sprang to her lips. No one had ever talked to her like this. The men she dated tended to turn poetic on her, which always left her cold. Deep inside, she craved this rawness. But still. She stared at the computer screen. Could this be Ethan? Could he be this kinky? It had to be an act.

Ethan Savage:
Yes or no, Violet.

Violet Moore:
I can’t.

For several minutes nothing happened. She stayed transfixed, watching the space that would tell her he was typing. It stayed empty. Her throat closed over. Was she disappointed? No, it couldn’t be.

A sense of loss slithered down her spine. How could she ever go back to thinking of him as a friend? How could she face him? Work with him? Spend the night in the same hotel with him?

He was typing!

Her heart turned over.

Ethan Savage:
What’s it going to be, Violet? This is a one-shot deal. You want to experience what you’ve been fantasizing about? Or are you going to be a chickenshit and keep it hidden under your bed?

She gulped. He was daring her. What was she going to do? Fantasy was one thing, reality another—and the truth was, she’d never planned on telling anyone about her desires. She’d planned on keeping them a secret. Locked away, hidden, just like Ethan said.

She bit her lip.

Violet Moore:
I might not like it.

Ethan Savage:
You’ll be thirty-two on Saturday, it’s time to find out.

Fear and excitement vied for equal attention. She shook her head. This was Ethan.

Deep down, at the core, he was the same person. She could tell him what she thought.

Violet Moore:
You’re scaring me. This doesn’t seem like you.

A short pause.

is.

Ethan Savage:
You said you wanted me to let you in. Put your money where your mouth

Nerves skidded along her skin, her stomach clenched.

Violet Moore:
Is this a joke?

Ethan Savage:
I’d never joke about this, Violet.

She blinked as her throat tightened. Was she going to do this?

Violet Moore:
Have you done this before?

Ethan Savage:
Yes.

Was he telling her the truth? How was it possible for him to hide this from her all this time? Wouldn’t she have suspected?

Ethan Savage:
Come with me on Saturday, and you’ll find out for yourself.

What did he plan to do with her? What did she want him to do? She pressed her thighs together. She was hot. Burning. She throbbed, just as he said. But still, it was Ethan. She stared at the blinking cursor as though it would provide her with the answers.

The clock ticked by, but he didn’t say anything else. No prodding, no talking her into it. It was just like him. Patient. Ethan didn’t rush. Would he be like that in bed?

Violet Moore:
All right.

Ethan Savage:
I’ll pick you up at eight.

Saturday evening

Ethan watched Violet while she nervously sipped a vodka and cranberry and tried to look as if she didn’t feel uncomfortable. Over dinner, he’d kept the conversation light, defusing the tension that had been radiating off her when he’d picked her up. But since they’d sat down at the private club he belonged to, it had returned, and he’d let it simmer between them.

A Mistress and her slave walked by and Violet’s eyes went wide as saucers. The man trailed after his Mistress on all fours, leash and collar securely tied around his neck. As she passed, black thigh-high boots clicked on the floor, she nodded to him. “Master Ethan.”

He returned her nod. “Having a nice stroll, Mistress Angelina?” The woman tugged harder at the leash and flashed him a grin.

Ethan turned back to Violet who looked at him as if he’d grown another head. He raised a brow. “Yes, Violet?”

She toyed with the straw in her glass then traced the water rivulets with her finger.

She was nervous. Unsure of what to expect—both from him and the experience.

Good. He wanted her off balance. Her expression would be less guarded and he could better gauge her desires, both the ones she was and wasn’t comfortable with.

She licked that bottom lip again and he stifled a groan. She’d been working that mouth of hers all night long and it was starting to distract him. She cleared her throat. “He was on a leash.”

He nodded. “He’s Mistress Angelina’s pet and she treats him as such.”

She blinked, her fingers coming up to toy with her necklace. “That’s horrible.”

By the strong, clear tone of her voice, Ethan knew she meant it. Which was fine with him, he’d never been much for that kind of play, but still, he wanted to feel out her reaction. “Why’s that?”

“B-because.” She looked away, gazing out at the writhing bodies littering the dance floor.

“Violet.”

“What?” She still didn’t glance away from the dancers. “Look at me.” When she remained frozen, he added, “Now.” Her head jerked, a stain of color rising fast to her cheeks.

“Better. In case you haven’t figured it out yet, I like to be obeyed.” He let the Master show in his voice, watching closely to gauge her reaction.

She looked like a skittish filly, ready to bolt at any second. All week he’d been subtly laying the groundwork for this moment. The moment when he’d make his intentions to own her clear. Violet wouldn’t submit to him easily, she was too scared of her own desires, but she did want it, and she wanted it from him.

Even if she didn’t know it yet.

Unblinking, she stared at him, but he didn’t miss the catch in her breath at his words. He pressed forward, leaning over the table. “When I ask you a question, I expect an answer.”

“I don’t want to be tied up with a leash.” The words tumbled from her lips as though she couldn’t say them fast enough.

If she were an experienced sub, he’d toy with this limit, testing to see how strong her aversion went. But Violet needed a softer hand. “Did I make that request?”

“But I don’t want to do that.” Her breath started coming in soft pants.

Fear. He enclosed his fingers around her wrist and stroked over her hammering pulse. He softened his voice. “Violet.”

As if he was her safe harbor, her gaze flew to him and clung.

“I’m not going to make you do anything you don’t want.” Relief passed over beautiful features. “You won’t?”

He shook his head. “And neither is Mistress Angelina. Believe me, what you saw was by mutual consent.” He grinned, trying to ease her anxiety. “Didn’t you see how hard his cock was?”

Her head snapped back. “I didn’t look.” “Such an innocent.” He laughed.

She tucked a lock of glossy black hair behind her ear. “She called you…um…by name.”

“And this surprises you?” “Yes. Very much.”

“Is it because she called me by name? Or because she addressed me as Master?” “Both.” Her chin tilted up in the air. “How could you hide this from me? We’re

supposed to be friends.”

“Why didn’t you share your desires for submission with me?” “That’s different!” Her eyes flashed as her voice rose.

“Why? We weren’t romantically involved, why would I discuss my sex life with you?”

She twirled the straw in her drink, staring down into the pale pink beverage. “But…” her soft voice trailed off.

He leaned over and grasped her around the waist, pulling her snug up against him.

Low into her ear, he whispered, “But you’ve never told anyone, have you, sugar?” She shook her head.

He ran his palm up over her arm, curving over her shoulder. She trembled under his touch. “Are you frightened?”

With a slight nod of her head, she looked up at him, violet eyes shimmering. “Who’s the real you?”

“They both are, I suppose. I’ve wanted you for a long time, since I first laid eyes on you.”

The muscles in her throat worked as she swallowed. “You never said anything.”

He shrugged. “I didn’t sense any interest from you, and I’m not the pretty-boy type you go for.” He stared deep into her eyes, wanting her to experience the full impact of his words. “I wanted to own you. I couldn’t settle for anything less.”

“Oh!” Her cheeks flushed.

He trailed his thumb over the cords in her neck. “Do you trust me?” She nodded.

He slid away from her and stood. Holding out his hand, he said, “Then come with me.”

She blinked at his outstretched palm, biting her bottom lip. “Where are you taking me?”

“You either trust me or you don’t, Violet. The choice is yours.”

The man who stood in front of her was Ethan, but not. His normally neat brown hair was tousled, highlighting golden streaks she’d never noticed. His glasses were gone and his blue eyes glittered in the dim light. Without the wire frames, his face took on a harsher appearance, making him less scholarly and more dangerous.

His uniform had been replaced by a black short-sleeved t-shirt stretching across a wide chest that tapered down over his flat stomach. Black flat-front pants, tighter than anything she’d ever seen him in before, completed the ensemble. He looked…lethal, sexy and sophisticated.

All she needed to do was reach up and grasp his fingers. That’s it, and he’d take it from there.

So what was stopping her?

Maybe because on an instinctual level, she understood what taking his hand meant—that he had her permission to make her his. Owning, belonging, submitting— they were all words she’d read about, fantasized about, dreamed about—but did she really want them in real life?

In typical fashion, Ethan stood, patient, arm outstretched, waiting. No pressure or coercion, no filling the silence as her brain clicked away.

He’d told her the truth—he was both of them—the computer whiz geek and the— she cleared her throat—the Master. Either persona would let her make up her own mind.

Somehow, she’d always taken this Ethan trait as a sign of his introverted personality. But now she recognized it for what it was—confidence. He was so quiet about it, so unassuming she’d glanced right over it. But he’d always had this commanding presence—when Ethan spoke, people listened. Probably because both his words and his actions were never wasted.

She glanced up at him, his average face had been transformed into something strong and masculine. “Will this ruin our friendship?”

The light blue depths of his eyes flickered but remained steady. “I don’t know, Violet. This will be the first time we’ll be dealing with each other honestly, it’s hard to predict what we’ll discover.”

“I don’t want to lose you.” The words slipped past her lips before she had time to think about them, but once they were out, she knew they were true.

“I don’t want to lose you either.” His gaze lit up as if someone had set a match to him. “But the path we were on, the loss was inevitable.”

She blinked. “It was?”

He gave a short, abrupt nod. “At your party, I’d decided I’d had enough, that I couldn’t take being around you anymore without being able to have you.”

“Why are you telling me this?” It was a shock. To learn he had feelings for her all this time and she’d never expected it. Most men wouldn’t ever make this kind of confession for fear of showing weakness.

“When I found your secret stash, I made a promise that I’d be honest with you. It’s the truth.”

She stared at his palm, so strong and capable. She wanted to take it but needed to test further. Needed to feel as if she held some control over the situation. “What if I don’t want to have sex with you?”

To her amazement he laughed. He shook his head and grinned down at her, so cocky and arrogant, her stomach heated.

“You sure you want to play that game, little girl?”

Pinpricks danced across her skin. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Your choice.” He shrugged. “If I make you a promise, would that make you feel better? More safe?”

Violet sensed a trap hidden somewhere in the words and velvety smoothness of his voice. But what? She hooked a lock of hair behind her ear. “It would.”

“All right then.” He leaned down over the table and, to her surprise, his strong, white teeth sank into the flesh of her lower lip. Excitement skidded over her nerve endings. He smelled delicious, all masculine and something indefinably Ethan. His tongue stroked over the flesh he held captive before he released her. “I promise you’ll have to beg me before I fuck you.”

Alarm slammed through her, mixing with her lust and throwing her off balance. “What?”

“You heard me.” His expression turned downright wicked. “I warned you not to play.”

Violet glanced around the darkened room as though waiting for something to jump out and snatch her. Ethan smiled and rubbed at the tight muscles in her neck. Caleb Morrison, one of his closest friends, had agreed to put on a show for them since his current sub was quite the exhibitionist.

Ethan had always thought of submission as a gift, one he wanted Violet to give to him. A little taste of what that looked like would help her understand what she’d be offering.

She turned to look at him, her legs crossed primly as she searched for a comfortable spot on the couch. “What are we doing here?”

“Be patient.” The room was dimly lit where they sat, but the front of the room was completely dark. From Violet’s perspective she couldn’t see that Caleb and his sub, who’d been ordered to remain completely silent, waited until Ethan gave the signal to proceed.