Leather Bound (16 page)

‘You know I love you and I’m here for you, right?’

She nodded again, and this time a single tear did spill, rolling down the side of her nose in a perfect straight line.

‘And how is it that you even cry perfectly?’ I asked.

‘I’m not crying,’ she said, laughing a little, even as she wiped the trail of liquid from the side of her nose.

‘Uh-huh,’ I said.

She brought her hand to her mouth again, looked at it and then put it back down in her lap.

‘Girls suck,’ she said.

‘Agreed,’ I said. ‘So how about I regale you with tales of my very crazy night with my ex-lover, never-going-to-be-fiancé, a woman named Kitty and the job I might have lost us?’

She perked, if only slightly. ‘Yes, please.’

I told her everything.

‘Kitty?’ she said after I was done. Leave it to her to skip right over the secret club, the Smaug-like bouncer and the fact that Kyle was on stage licking a woman’s clit, and focus on the woman’s name.

‘And that, Lily, is why I love you,’ I said.

‘I know, right? I mean, why don’t women read books? Scarlett O’Hairy at the Taratopolis, for God’s sake, is a perfect name for a sex show.’

‘Hester Prim,’ I said.

‘And the Propers!’ she added.

I groaned at that one but, as we kept going, I was appreciative of the banter, the kind we used to do a lot. I hadn’t even realised I’d missed it, and the exchange left me feeling lighter and far less stressed. It was obviously making Lily feel better too, because she was smiling and laughing, coming up with names left and right.

Whatever was wrong with her hadn’t been set right, that much was clear, but it was lessened a little. Sometimes it seems like the best thing we can do for our friends is alleviate their burdens if we can. I tried not to be a bad friend, but I knew that we’d grown distant of late. I wasn’t going to let that happen again.

When a customer came in, Lily walked out with a little bounce in her step, which made me happy. And made me realise I’d totally forgotten to ask about the rent situation.

* * *

When I came back from a quick lunch, Davian was waiting for me at the store.

He was leaning against the big window, playing with Webster through the glass. Web would put one big paw wherever Davian’s finger traced, following the movement. Dressed in a dark-grey pea coat with a chocolate-brown scarf wrapped around his neck, his dark curls lightly tousled by the wind, Davian was the most edible thing I’d seen in a long time.

He caught my arrival in the window reflection and watched me walk towards him, his fingers still tracing the glass for Webster’s amusement.

‘Could you stand out here and do that for a few hours every day?’ I asked. ‘He could stand to lose a little weight.’

‘He seems like he’s in fine shape to me,’ he said. But his eyes were on me, rising from my black boots up my dark stockings and short skirt all the way to my face. ‘We, however, are not. I heard that the Cat House was a disaster.’

I sighed. So much for just getting to stand here and drool over this chocolately man. I should have known it wouldn’t be that easy.

‘Come in and we’ll talk about it?’ I said.

He nodded, then watched me silently while I opened the front door.

‘Make yourself at home,’ I said. ‘I just need to check in with Lily.’

I made sure Lily had everything under control, which she did and then some, and then I went and found Davian. He was draped over a chair in the velvet section, flipping through a copy of an erotic art book. The page was open at a collection of hand-carved stone dildos. Webster was curled up in his lap.

‘Well, you do make yourself at home,’ I said. ‘The only thing missing is a naked woman resting at your feet.’

‘I’m sure you could find a way to make that happen,’ he said. His tone was light, but the way he was looking at me added far more meaning to his words. I was suddenly aware that I was in a tiny room with a gorgeously hot man and shelf upon shelf full of books about sex.

The sexual tension in the room was so strong it almost made me want to talk about how I’d screwed up at the Cat House. Almost.

‘So, what do I need to do?’ I asked.

‘Well, first you strip naked,’ he said.

‘I mean about what happened at the Cat House. I’m really sorry for how that turned out. I’m also sorry for doubting you. I don’t think I actually believed you about the sex club. I thought I knew everything about this part of town.’

Davian closed the book and set it on the table next to the chair. Webster shifted on his lap with a small meow of protest.

‘I don’t know that you can fix it,’ Davian said. ‘You didn’t just fail the initiation, you made something of a ruckus. If anyone in that room didn’t notice you, they were utterly blind.’

‘I’m sorry,’ I said. My cheeks went hot and pink, and I lowered my head, trying to hide my reaction. ‘I didn’t realise that she’d want me to go on stage. I have –’

‘Stage fright?’

‘No.’ I fumbled for words. How to describe what was happening to me when I thought of being in front of people, especially in a sexual context? Sure, it was part fear, but it was something else as well. Something about my introverted self, about being seen. There was something about the danger that I both shied away from and, inexplicably, craved. I didn’t have the words to explain it, so I just shook my head.

‘Either way,’ he said. ‘It doesn’t matter. What’s done is done.’

He stroked Webster’s head while he talked, the soft space between the cat’s ears, and then under his chin, until Webster was purring so loudly the sound seemed to fill the whole room. I knew the feeling; I ached for Davian to touch me like that, to stroke me until I responded with audible sounds of pure pleasure.

‘I can try again,’ I said. ‘I’ll say yes next time.’

‘There is no next time,’ he said. ‘Kitty chose you and you refused in front of everyone. That’s the only way into the club.’

‘I’ll find another way,’ I said. I was about to tell him about the blonde woman and the door, but realised I hadn’t found a way into that either.

I wasn’t sure why I was fighting so hard for this. Yes, we needed the money, but it was more than that. Something inside me needed this. And I was starting to think that something inside me needed Davian.

I knelt at his feet, realising too late that I was creating the picture that I’d had in my mind when I’d walked in. Minus the naked part. He clearly caught it too, tilting his head to watch me go down.

‘Help me,’ I said. ‘Help me do this.’

He lifted his hand from Webster’s chin, slipped it under my own. The pads of his fingers pushed upward, bringing my chin up so that our gazes met. The heat of his fingers made my insides warm and melty. I really was like chocolate in his warm hands.

‘Why?’ he asked.

‘I … don’t know. It feels like something I should do.’ There was no way to explain it more clearly than that.

The pause between us was long and filled with heat. Sexual, and something else. I could feel things trembling on the edge of whatever thin line was between us. If they went one way, this job, this opportunity, this man would be gone from my life, tumbling over a cliff too steep for me to follow. If they went the other way, I wouldn’t be any less in danger, but at least we would all go over the edge together.

‘There is an event coming up,’ he said. ‘We might be able to get you in as a guest. But you’d have to practise. And really be willing to go all the way.’

I felt a million questions rise in me, but I didn’t trust my tongue to work properly. It felt alive and bee-stung. My heart did a silly half-beat of joy and fear in my chest. I took a deep breath, the scent of him filling my nose. It was heady, the warm cinnamon and dark wood that rolled off his skin. Someday, when this was all over, I’d find a candle that smelled like him, and I’d hoard it the way that old single people hoarded cats. Or, well, the way that I already hoarded books.

In the meantime, I had to get over my fear. He knew it. I knew it. I flipped my mental rolodex for a female character to use as inspiration, but found myself coming up empty. Either I didn’t read enough erotica or the heroines weren’t particularly memorable. I’d have to do this on my own.

‘We can practise here,’ I said. ‘After we close.’

‘No,’ he said. ‘You can’t practise getting naked and …’ He leaned in, trailing two fingers along the top of my thigh, right at the spot that made me shiver. His fingers lingered there, pressing softly, easing inward. My thighs parted instinctively to his touch. ‘… letting me do this in front of people if there aren’t any people.’

‘Yes,’ I said, as much to his touch as to his words.

‘So,’ he said.

‘So,’ I said. He was waiting for something from me, but his fingers, promising, teasing, were edging under my short skirt, slipping slowly along the heat of my inner thigh. I didn’t push myself into his touch, although part of me wanted to. I closed my eyes and stayed still, waiting to see if his fingers would deliver on their promise of pleasure.

They stopped just short of the laced edge of my stockings. He tugged some of the fabric sideways, a minuscule movement, the slightest shift, but I felt it all the way to my teeth. My pussy tightened in want, and a groan – desire, a lament for what I didn’t already have – slipped from my mouth.

‘Janine,’ he said. Firm but distant. Like his fingers.

‘Hmm?’

‘No more until we get public.’

‘But … but it feels so good.’

‘Janine.’ Firmer. His fingers leaving me. Another groan.

I opened my eyes at him. He had his mostly serious face on. Mouth set, his gaze firm on my face. Sometimes, I was learning, I could sway him my way. Distract him, tease him, get him to put his other plans aside to fuck me. But not this time. And, oh, how I wanted what he was offering. Yes, even if it meant something public. Even if the thought of the word made my heart hammer in my chest.

‘Fine,’ I said. ‘Yes. But let’s do it now.’ Before I change my mind, I wanted to say. Now, while my clit was still beating its sweet little pulse of want.

‘I know just the place,’ he said. ‘Get your coat.’

With my heart beating its song of want in my chest and my clit doing the same between my legs, what could I do but say yes?

* * *

‘I can’t,’ I said. ‘The store…’

‘Lily has it under control,’ he said. ‘She’s good like that.’

As if in a trance, I got my coat. As Davian and I walked out, I felt nothing but the presence of his body next to me and the wet heat between my thighs that seemed to intensify with every step.

I watched him walking next to me, that long confident stride, hands tucked loosely into the pockets of his wool coat. He cast his gaze sideways, caught my eye. His brow arched slightly, but he didn’t say anything.

I stopped looking at him and started looking at where we were. The big black and purple building stood in front of us, its window displays filled with curvy mannequins in leather outfits, whips and toys in their moulded hands. Everything became real in that second.

‘L&L?’ I asked. ‘Oh, no. No. No. No.’

His eyes narrowed just a little at my response, and then he started laughing.

‘What’s so damn funny?’ I tried to inch backwards from the front of the building, as though he wouldn’t notice when I suddenly broke into a frantic, fearful run in the other direction. Fight or flight, baby. I was a flighter all the way.

‘Nothing at all,’ he said. ‘I should have known you’d know this place. Little voyeur like you.’

He caught the ends of my hair in his fist, held me captive. It wasn’t just his grip in my hair that held me in place. It was the drop in his voice, that deep confidence that slid in, a timbre that seemed to vibrate at the same speed as my arousal. His golden eyes scanned my face, a quirk of a smile crossing his lips.

‘I should have known you’d like to watch,’ he murmured, his voice low. ‘You like being all safe in the dark, while everybody undresses for you, sitting there touching yourself. You get off on that, don’t you?’

Was that a question I was supposed to answer? It seemed so obvious that it didn’t require a response. Not to mention that with him talking to me like that, I could barely think of what I was supposed to say, much less make my mouth do the thing it needed to do to form words.

He tugged my hair, pulling my head back to force a gasp from my lips.

‘Well? Yes or no?’

‘Yes,’ I said, not even entirely sure what I was saying yes to.

‘Yes, what?’ he asked. ‘What do you do to get off, Janine?’

I knew what he wanted me to say, and I remembered the thrill of saying it in my dream, of voicing my secret desires into his ear. It had been a revelation to me, how hot it was to say the words, and to watch Davian react to them.

But it wasn’t a dream this time. We were in public, standing on the street, Davian looming over me, leaning in. He still had his fist tight in my hair, tilting my head back so that I could only look up at him, at his face. I had the sense that people were near, walking by us on their way to far less deviant things, but I couldn’t see them. I could only see the dark spark in his gaze, the edges of his teeth, as he asked me again.

‘I …’ I couldn’t do this. I couldn’t stand here in public and say what he wanted me to say. I couldn’t get naked in front of strangers. No matter how much I wanted him – and oh, fuck, I didn’t know that I’d ever wanted anything more – I couldn’t bring myself to do it. ‘I’m sorry. I can’t.’

He didn’t change his stance or his expression. His grip on my hair relaxed slightly, allowing me control of my head. I dropped my gaze to the ground, the prickled heat of my cheeks making me feel like I’d been crying.

‘Janine.’ I heard him say my name, but I didn’t look up. Why was it always so easy for me to say no, even to the things I really wanted? Now I did feel tears threatening, their stinging arrival at the corners of my eyes. I blinked them back, refusing to give in.

When he leaned in this time, he came at me soft, as though he’d loosened his body to mould around mine. His mouth found the corner of my ear. As he brushed his lips along my skin, he talked to me.