Seduced By My Doms BN (9 page)

“Oh, give me a break,” James scoffed. “You’ve never had a
boyfriend, an ex-husband who expected you to check in with them?”

“No to the ex-husband, and no to the boyfriend. It wasn’t
expected, or didn’t matter, I guess.”

James snorted contemptuously, and I knew he thought I had
fed him a line of bullshit.

But it wasn’t a lie. Ryan never bothered asking where I went
or when I’d be back. Even when he took off for days, or weeks, he never called
to see how I was doing. Either he believed nothing bad would happen, or he
didn’t give a damn. Either way, it didn’t matter anymore.

On one hand, I felt flattered that James wanted to know I
was safe, but on the other, his draconian attitude sent a flurry of red flags
waving in my brain. Was his overbearing mien simply a byproduct of his
Dominance? Or was the man dangerously possessive in a ‘
Sleeping With The
Enemy
’ kind of way?

If James thought I’d give him a thorough list of what I did
every second of my days and nights, he was bat-shit crazy. I would never give
up my independence to such a degree. Of course, the ex-cop in him might simply
be concerned. I had no doubts he’d witnessed far more horrors, that those that
passed through the doors of the ER.

“I find it hard to believe that you’ve never had a boyfriend
who kept tabs on you.”

“Whether you believe me or not is your choice, but it’s the
truth,” I snapped, feeling my anger rise once more. “He didn’t. He trusted my
judgment and knew I wouldn’t put myself in harm’s way.”

He wasn’t overbearing and controlling like you.

“Then I’d say you’ve been dating the wrong kind of men,”
James replied. I could almost hear the laughter in his voice. He probably
thought I was a naïve idiot. “It’s not a question of your judgment, Liz.
Predators are dangerous people.”

“I don’t have stalkers, muggers, or rapists lining up
waiting for me to let my guard down.”

“No. I’m sure you don’t,” he laughed.

The sound made me smile. It was as if he’d waved a magic
wand and my self-righteous fury vanished. Dammit! Why couldn’t I stay mad at
the man? I wanted to, but simply couldn’t. What the hell was up with that? I
could drag out my rage with Ryan for days, sometimes even longer. But trying to
stay irritated at James left a strange ache in my heart.

You have seriously lost your mind.

“We’ll talk about your safety later,” he promised. “While I
am
disappointed you forgot to call, I hope it was because you’d rushed home to
play with your toys and had fallen asleep, sated and thinking about me.”

“No. At least not yet,” I confessed, feeling the heat rise
on my cheeks.

“Not yet, huh?” he purred. “Would you like me to tuck you in
properly? Maybe finish what we started in the parking garage?”

His deep voice dropped an octave. A tremor sputtered in my
core.

“I’d be more than happy to help you with that.”

Over the phone? Lord, no.

“You had your chance, mister. You blew it.”

“Ah, but I’ll have a whole lot more in the very near future.
You and I both know it.”

The man oozed self-confidence. I was certain that women fell
at his feet, all too eager to grant him exactly what he wanted. Had he ever
been denied?

“What if I said that ship already sailed and you missed the
boat?” I challenged with a smug grin.

James didn’t say a word for several long seconds. “Then I
guess I’ll spend the rest of my days kicking myself in the ass for missing out
on the chance of a lifetime…to spend a night with you.”

Just when I’d pegged him cocky and sure, he had to go say
something so sentimental and sweet that my heart puddled.

“Damn…you’re good.”

“You have no idea how good I can be.”

His silky promise swept over my flesh like heated fingers.
Flopping back on my bed, I wished he were naked and on top of me, proving his
claim.

“What are you wearing right now, my blue-eyed temptress?”

I bit back a groan of frustration, knowing where James
intended to lead the conversation. But sharing an empty orgasm over the phone
held as much appeal as masturbating alone. I needed flesh-on-flesh
contact…needed to be cuddled, then wake in a pair of warm, strong arms. That
basic level of nurturing had been void in my life for far too long. If James
wanted to hear me scream his name, then he’d have to be there and wholly involved
in a physical way.

“What time is dinner tomorrow night?” Skirting the current
topic, I took control of the conversation, thus circumventing an awkward debate
about phone sex.

“When do you get off work?”

“I don’t. I’m off until noon Sunday.”

“Then I’ll pick you up at seven.” His voice dipped, “Wear
something special for me.”

Like clockwork, Mr. Cocky-And-Sure resurfaced.

“I’ll think about it,” I taunted, unable to resist poking
him just a little.

“You’ll do a whole lot more than that,” he promised overconfidently.
Then his voice softened to a whisper. “I wish I were there to watch you play
with yourself…help get you off, and hear your cries of ecstasy.”

My breath caught in the back of my throat as my nipples drew
up impossibly tighter. He paused for a minute, listening to my shallow
breathing.

“Good night, Liz.”

Once again, he hung up before I could reply. He had serious
issues when it came to phone etiquette. Either that, or he enjoyed flexing his
Dom muscles, striving to take charge every way he could. Unfortunately, I
didn’t know enough about BDSM to hazard a guess.

Climbing under the covers, I turned off the light and
snuggled into my cold, empty bed. Curious about Dominance and submission, I
wondered how I would fit into James’ kinky world. Tossing and turning for
another hour, it wasn’t until I decided to spend tomorrow researching and
educating myself about BDSM that I finally fell asleep. My dreams were filled
with James’ decadent voice, billowing silk scarfs binding my wrists, and his
hard cock driving into me.

I woke the next morning as exhausted as when I’d climbed
into bed. Glancing at the clock, I saw it was half past eleven. Stretching and
yawning, I climbed out of bed and completed my morning routine before padding
to my office and booting up my computer. I wanted to learn all I could about
the lifestyle in hopes that if we survived our first date I might get lucky and
he’d ask me out again. Then maybe I could learn more about his particular
cravings.

By two-thirty, I’d drained a coffee pot and had gained more
understanding about BDSM than the average ‘vanilla’ person. The research had
occupied my mind…well, for the most part. Memories of our erotic parking garage
adventure only wormed its way into my brain seven or eight hundred times, while
wondering what kinky things turned James on. Hopefully they weren’t too
outlandish, and I’d wake tomorrow morning lying naked in his arms after
countless breath-stealing orgasms.

Some of the information I’d gleaned centered on fetishes that
dweebed
me out. Things like urine and fecal play.
Yuck. No thanks. I spent ten hours a day, cleaning up various body fluids, and
never once did I find it the least bit arousing.

Several other things intrigued me, though, like the image of
a woman helplessly tied in a pretty harness of knotted rope. The thought of
being powerless at James’ mercy sent my blood pumping. I read several articles,
yet the concept of giving my power—or as I perceived it, my independence—to
another person seemed weak and insanely foolish. Whatever was gained from such
an arrangement remained a mystery. While I found the sites eye-opening, I
couldn’t find what I wanted most: a BDSM manual that gave step-by-step
instructions for beginners.

Ignorance of the thing James enjoyed gnawed at me. If he
were into rope, I’d probably try and let him tie me up. But if he liked whips,
canes, and other implements of pain…it would be over long before it began.
Staring at the toys designed to inflict pain, Drake’s words rolled through my
mind.

‘Trevor likes pain…finds peace of mind and strength.’

The meaning of his words took on a whole new context. I
might not be wired for pain, but understanding the beneficial effects they
provided, the gadgets didn’t seem quite so scary.

Staring at a new image of another woman tied in red cotton
rope, I studied the fat knot pressed against her clit. Her half open eyes
appeared glassy and unfocused. Her upturned face with red painted lips opened
on an apparent blissful sigh filled me with envy. I wanted to be that woman,
bound and pulsing beneath the bundle of rope between her legs; experience the
euphoria serenely stamped over her face.

My cell phone rang. Still riveted to the arresting image on
the monitor, I absently answered the call.

“Hello.” Surprised by my low, husky tone, I swallowed
tightly.

“Did I wake you?” James asked in a deep, heart pounding
voice.

“No,” I blurted quickly. “I-I’ve been awake for hours.”

“Am I interrupting something?” His question teemed with
sexual innuendo, and filled me with a combo of guilt and embarrassment.

“No. I’m not doing anything,” I lied. Quickly closing out
the image, I tamped down my arousal. “What are you doing?”

“I’m getting ready to head over to the hospital to check on
Trevor and Drake. I thought maybe you’d like to ride along.”

“Oh, I thought you were still there.”

“No. Drake kicked me out about five-thirty this morning.
Told me to go home and sleep after Mika and Julianna left.”

I had no business getting emotionally invested in Trevor,
but I couldn’t help it. The frantic need to know he was all right rose like a
tide inside me. The need to delineate the blurred lines between mourning sister
and nurse weighed heavy. I simply didn’t know how to separate the two.

“I did talk to Drake a little bit ago,” James continued. “He
said Trevor slept through the night, but woke up this morning. He’s groggy and
falls asleep at the drop of a hat, but he’s sitting and talking from time to
time and the doctor thinks they’ll be able to move him out of ICU tomorrow.”

“That’s great news,” I exhaled on a sigh of relief. “I
planned to drop by and see him for a few minutes, but wasn’t sure if… Well, I
don’t want to intrude.”

“Why would you think that? Of course you’re not intruding.
I’ll come by and pick you up and escort you inside. I heard there’s a pervert
hanging out in the parking garage, kissing women.”

I laughed. “A kissing pervert huh? That doesn’t sound very
dangerous.”

“Oh, he can be if you ask nicely.” I could feel James
smiling on the other end of the line. “I mean if it’s danger you’re looking
for, I’m sure he can help you out.”

“I bet
you
could.” Those damn bondage pictures on
the web had curiosity and excitement crawling through me.

“I am more than capable of giving you what you need. Trust
me.”

I desperately wanted to trust him. From what I’d read, trust
was the key ingredient for a healthy BDSM relationship. But trusting someone
with your life took time.

“So what do you say? I can swing by and pick you up in an
hour.”

“Sure. That would be great.”

“I’ll see you then,” James confirmed.

Hanging up without saying goodbye,
again
, I rolled
my eyes and raced to the shower. After primping both makeup and hair, I stood
in the closet trying to decide what to wear. Unsure if there would be time to
come home and change before our date, I realized the little black dress I’d
planned to wear was too chic for a hospital visit. Since I had no clue where
James planned to take me, I worried blue jeans might be too casual. Finally
deciding on a pair of black dress pants and a sleeveless, ruffled-bodice,
cranberry chiffon blouse, I tossed the items on my bed.

‘Wear something special for me.’

James’ words echoed in my head, causing a shiver to race
through me. Perusing the contents of my panty drawer, I spotted a red, lacy
pushup bra and matching thong that had been sitting untouched for almost a
year. “Like sexy lingerie was going to fix my relationship with Ryan,” I
scoffed aloud. “Well, hopefully James will enjoy the little ensemble tonight.”

Dressed, I stepped into a pair of black heels as the
doorbell rang. A giddy rush of excitement ignited within me. It had been a
long, long time since I’d been on a date. Checking myself one last time in the
mirror, I rushed to the front door and pulled it open.

Sunlight played across James’ handsome features,
highlighting cinnamon streaks in his dark hair, as flecks of gold refracted in
his sensual eyes. He wore snug, faded blue jeans and a short-sleeved, fitted
knit shirt. James looked so decadently hot I wanted to yank him inside and
molest him in the middle of the foyer.

James slid a hungry gaze down my body in a slow, sensual
caress before he flashed me with a wide, dazzling smile. I had to grip the edge
of the door to keep from melting into a puddle. Leaning in close, he brushed
his lips against my neck.

“You look stunning,” he whispered, biting lightly on the
lobe of my ear.

My body responded instantly. I was grateful for the barrier
of clothing, so James couldn’t see how easily he destroyed me.

“Thank you. So do you,” I managed to deliver past the
choking lust lodged in my throat. “Please. Come in. I just need to grab my
phone and my purse.”

With a nod, he followed me inside. Glancing over my
shoulder, I noticed him checking out my family room.

“So, you’re a neat freak, huh?”

I arched a brow, unsure if I he meant it as a compliment or
an insult. James had a tendency to be brutally direct. Still, I felt as if he
were finding fault that I liked keeping a tidy home.

“No. I just don’t like clutter.”

“Easy. It wasn’t a dig,” he chuckled. “I’m a bit anal that
way, myself.”