L.A. Fire (14 page)

  Julian opened my door for me,
helped me out of my seat, and then gave the valet his keys. A group of guys in
their early twenties, probably heading to a nearby club, literally stopped to
stare, their mouths falling open. I looked at Julian slyly. “You don’t believe
in being inconspicuous do you?” 

  He put his arm around my
shoulders, and guided me to the red carpeted steps leading to the restaurant.
“I do like to put on a good show,” he said, “But they’d be staring without the
car. They’d be ogling you. Your beauty could literally stop traffic.”

  I felt embarrassed for a moment,
but also deeply flattered. “Are you trying to charm my pants off, Julian?”

  His eyes glimmered down at me.
“Is it working?” he asked. I let out a small laugh, and elbowed him gently in
the ribs.

  The maitre d’, dressed in black
tie, gave us a quick respectful nod as we approached him. “Mr. McGregor,” he
said. “You’re table is ready. Please follow me.”

  The décor in the restaurant was
spectacular. The walls were oak paneled, and the ceilings were gold coffered
and very high, giving the place an airy feel. Chinese silk curtains, tied back with
gold rope, framed the large windows facing down onto the street. All of the
tables were square, and covered in fine white linen. Old-fashioned
amber-glassed lanterns, strategically placed, gave the restaurant a warm,
intimate feel, and the long, smoked-glass mirror on one of the walls made the
restaurant look bigger by reflecting everything back to the customers, and
provided a chic 1930s Parisian touch.

  As we made our way to the table,
eyes, not too discretely, flicked to Julian and me. One man with coal black
eyes, straight black hair, looking slightly burly in his beige suit, ran his
eyes over every inch of me. Julian gave him the death stare, then put a
possessive hand around my waist and pulled me close. The man shrugged his
shoulders at Julian, then looked back to his date, a woman in a rose sheath
dress who was now glaring at him, with her fists clenched on the table. I
instantly felt a pang of sympathy for her. Rob had had a habit of ogling other
women in front of me. He always said he was just looking, but he didn’t seem to
understand that it was humiliating for me when I was sitting right there with
him. It made me look like the boring old ball and chain, and gave the object of
his attention a smug sense of superiority over me.

  The maitre d’ led us to a quite
table in the corner. It was by a large window overlooking the bustling
nightlife on the street below. As I settled into my chair, I took in the scene
outside the window. There was a night club right next door, and a line up running
down the street, made up of guys in suits, hair slicked back, and women in
sequins, skin tight dresses, shifting on their stilettos, eager to be let in.
The lit cigarettes looked like orange fireflies in the distance, dangling
between fingers, the smoke curling, rising, and finally dissipating.

  “Penny for your thoughts,” Julian
said, drawing my attention back to him.

  I shrugged my shoulders slightly.
“I was just admiring the view.”

  “So was I,” he said, his eyes
once again raking every inch of me.

  I blushed, then cleared my
throat. Julian smiled at me gently, then leaned back in his chair. “You know
what drives me crazy about you?” he asked.

  I searched his face. He was
eyeing me carefully, but his expression gave nothing away. “No,” I finally
said. “Why don’t you tell me.”

  He leaned forward. “You come
across as shy. You blush. You avert your eyes. But you’re not. Not at all,” he
said, his eyes locking with mine, making my breath catch.

  “Oh really?” I said, trying to
sound blithe, but once again the tremor in my voice gave me away.

  Julian flashed me a devastating
smile, then leaned in even closer. “A lot of people think shyness is a sign of
meekness. They see someone blushing easily. Or being very quiet in social
situations. And they think that person is submissive. Easy to dominate.”

  I sat back in my chair, my
expression guarded, and started toying with the edge of my menu. “Isn’t that
what you see in me, Julian?” I asked, searching his face. “Don’t you see me as
easy prey? Haven’t you expressed how you want to dominate me? Turn me into your
sexual slave?”

  Julian looked amused, and took a
sip of his water. “Yes,” he said matter-of-factly, “But not because you’re easy
to dominate, Sarah.” He put his glass down forcefully, and hit me hard with his
heated gaze. “The thing about shyness,” he began, “is that it’s often just a
cover for a really strong personality. A strong fire burning beneath the
reserve.” He ran his finger around the rim of his glass as his gaze seared into
me. “You avert your eyes, Sarah. You pull away, because there’s so much passion
burning in you that you’re scared that if you loosen the lid on it, let it burn
freely, you’ll incinerate yourself and everyone around you.”

  My stomach fluttered in recognition.
He was right. I was so deathly afraid of losing control, and destroying myself
and everyone else around me. Not literally. Not physically. But definitely
emotionally. I had a temper, which the video incident made all too clear, and
though I was good at keeping a lid on it, if someone really pissed me off, it
flared. And I really knew how to hit where it hurt. My temper really burned
others. Like Elle the other night at the bar. Or even Ziggy earlier this
afternoon. Sure, part of me felt they deserved it, but part of me also knew I’d
crossed the line.

  I let out a long sigh. “If you
think I’m really such a loose cannon underneath it all, then why aren’t you
running for the hills?” I asked, leaning back and crossing my arms.

  He looked pointedly at my arms
and said, “you’re putting up another shield, Sarah.”

  I instinctively pulled my arms
tighter against my chest. “Maybe I need a shield. Maybe I need my defenses,
okay? Why don’t you just leave it alone?” I could hear the anger and
desperation that had crept into my tone, and I felt like getting up out of my
seat and running for the exit. I couldn’t sit here and be scrutinized anymore.

  “You don’t need your defenses
around me, Sarah,” he said.

  I let out a short laugh. “It’s
around you that I need my defenses the most.”

  “Why?” he asked, looking like he
already knew the answer but wanted me to say it anyway.

  “Because,” I began, feeling my
eyes go hard. “It’s around you I’m most likely to lose control.”

I felt my body start to tremble, and
decided I couldn’t take this anymore. “This is a bad idea,” I said decisively,
getting to my feet. “I need to go home.”

  “Sit down, Sarah,” he said, his
tone stern.

  “I need to leave,” I said, my
voice wavering. He got up and came around to my side of the table. He put his
arms around my waist, and looked intently into my eyes. It felt alarmingly
good, alarmingly safe to be in his arms, and I immediately felt myself relax.

  “Please sit down,” he said. I let
out a deep breath, then slid back into my seat.

  Once he was sure I wasn’t going
to bolt, he took a seat himself, and reached across the table for my hand. “I’m
attracted to that fire burning just below the surface, Sarah. That kind of
intense passion is so beautiful, and in some ways, so rare.”

  I gave him a crooked smile. “You
think a temper is beautiful. And rare? You’re a strange man, Julian.”

  His eyes crinkled slightly, and
he tightened his grip around my hands. “Not your temper, you’re passion. Your
passion is what gives you your intensity, your ambition, your flare.”

  “And my temper,” I added.

  “Yes,” he said. “But I can handle
your temper.”

  I raised a skeptical eyebrow at
him. “I thought you’d seen the video,” I said ruefully.

  Julian’s gaze became heated, and
he leaned even closer. “I want you to feel it’s safe to lose control around me.
I want you to let yourself go. Surrender yourself to me completely. I’m a
strong, powerful man, Sarah. I can handle your passion, your temper. You don’t
have to rein yourself in around me.”

  I let out a long, shuddering
breath. Julian was blowing me away. I’d never been with someone who could read
me so well. He seemed to truly understanding something so deep and essential
about me, even though we’d barely spent any time together. Rob had never
totally gotten me. Or he had, and he was somehow threatened. He was always
telling me I was too intense. That I should just relax and chill. And though
our sex had been decent, he never really blew me away. Although I’d had orgasms
with Rob, they were never earth shattering, because I never trusted myself to
completely let go with him. Part of me had always longed that he would
sometimes take charge in bed, but I often felt like I was the one taking charge
of giving him pleasure, putting his needs above my own.

  “What exactly are you proposing,
Julian?” I asked. His eyes twinkled with pleasure, and he gently trailed his
finger along the back of my hand.

  “That you surrender to me,” he
said matter-of-factly.

  “And what exactly does that mean
to you?” I asked, feeling my back go up slightly. I hoped he wasn’t going to
suggest whips and chains, because that really wasn’t my thing.

  “That you let me take charge in
bed, so you can let your passion run wild.”

  As soon as he said the words, I
felt myself getting wet. What Julian was offering was so tempting, but my mind
rebelled against it. The idea of putting myself in Julian’s hands, trusting him
completely, not just with my body, but with my emotional core, was utterly
terrifying.

  “Stop thinking it over so much,
and listen to what your body is saying, Sarah. I can tell the thought arouses
you. Your lip is trembling. And I’m sure if I slid my hand between your legs
I’d feel that you were wet and ready for me.”

  I shifted in my seat, and grabbed
my water glass. I took a big gulp, then leaned back in my chair. “You really
are quite cocky aren’t you.”

  “Am I wrong?” he asked, leaning
across the table and reaching for my face. He gently stilled my lip with his
thumb, never taking his hungry eyes off mine.

  Impulsively, I bared my teeth,
and bit down gently on his thumb. He grinned, then slid his finger deeper into
my mouth and held it there for a moment. I licked it slightly, and he let out a
low groan. “I can’t wait to feel that clever tongue of yours sliding along my
thick cock,” he said, removing his thumb.

  “Thick, is it?” I said, playfully
arching my eyebrow. “I’ll have to verify later that that’s not false
advertising.”

  “I’ll let you get up close and
personal, and you can even take it for a test drive,” he said, grinning
wickedly.

  Just then the waiter appeared.
“I’d love to take it for a test drive, Mr. McGregor,” he said.

  My mouth dropped open, and I
stared at him incredulously.

  The waiter was in his
late-twenties, tall, lanky, with twinkling hazel eyes, and he was grinning
mischievously. “If the car’s missing at the end of the night, you’ll know who
has it. But by that time I’ll be over the border into Mexico.”

  I let out a long sigh of relief,
and put my hand to my chest. “I’m only kidding around, my dear,” he said,
obviously noticing my distress. Julian had been able to keep his face
relatively impassive, but his eyes had been slightly tense. Now he looked
amused.

  “Bill,” he said, “Good to see you
again.”

  “Always a pleasure to see you,
Mr. McGregor,” he said with a slight bow. “What can I get you?”

  “We’ll have a bottle of the
Chateau Canon La Gaffeliere,” he said, then paused and gave me an inquisitive
look. “Do you like chicken?” he asked me. I nodded. He turned his attention
back to Bill.

  “We’ll both start with the French
Onion Soup, and then for our main course we’ll share a pot of your exquisite
Coq au vin.”