Crave (7 page)

After releasing her, he took a step back and nodded toward the table.

Her heartbeat increasing exponentially, she got into position.

As if they were the only two people on the small island, he lifted her dress.

“Your underwear…what do you call them?”

“Boy shorts,” she supplied, mortified that they were in a restaurant with her dress around her waist.

“They’re different from what you usually wear. I like them. They show your ass cheeks nicely.”

Without warning, he slipped the material down. The breeze whispered across her bare skin.

“Better,” he said.

She stepped out of the panties, and he scooped them up from the concrete floor.

“Stay there,” he told her.

“Now I’m nervous.”

“Good.”

She glanced over her shoulder at him, in time to see him shove her underwear in his pants pocket.

“Face forward, Sarah.”

Reacting instead of thinking, she did as he said.

He caressed both of her buttocks. His hands were strong, competent, and she was becoming molten. His sensual competence was beyond compare.

“Reece, are you—?” Breath whooshed from her when he slapped her right cheek, hard.

He turned and hit her on the other cheek.

“Damn,” she said softly.

“You may be seated.” He lowered her dress back into place.

“I didn’t expect that.”

“All along, I was probably too lax with you.”

“Not at all,” she protested.

“What I did didn’t work.”

“It was about me,” she said, pushing her salad plate to the side. “Not you. Even though you said you wouldn’t accept my apology, I’m sorry, regardless. Leaving you that way was thoughtless.”

“Heartless,” he corrected.

She winced.

“You could have accepted my calls, returned an email, even left a note.”

She looked back at him. “I was scared.”

“We made an agreement. Remember?”

“I do.”

“Tell me.”

After everything they’d shared—then and just today—this should have been easier. She used to beg him to flog her and fuck her. “We went to the symphony,” she said. “Before you tied me up for the first time, we sat down across the table from each other.” Much as they were tonight. “You told me that we had to talk before anything happened that might frighten me.” She exhaled and took a shaky drink. “You promised you’d never do anything to me, with me, without discussing it first.”

“Did I keep my word?”

The wine sloshed over the rim as she pushed the glass away. “Yes.”

“Every time?”

“Yes.”

“Was there anything that scared you, ever?”

“What is this, a cross-examination?” She fought to suppress her sudden anger and frustration.

“Answer the question, Sarah. You wanted to talk. Talk.”

“You know I was scared, more than once.”

“And what did we do?”

“We stopped. You’d hold me or have me put on some clothes. Sometimes we left the bedroom and went into the living room because you thought that would totally change my mindset.”

“In the two years we spent together, did I ever give you reason to believe I was unworthy of your trust?”

For long moments, she didn’t answer. She closed her eyes to gather strength. “No.”

“So what changed?”

“I found a collar in your dresser drawer.”

“Ah. That was meant to be a surprise.”

“It was. Believe me.”

He shook his head. “And?” he prompted.

“And?” She leaned toward him. “Is that all you can say?”

“I’m confused, Sarah. You found a gift I bought for you. What else do you want me to say?”

“Reece.” How could he be so clueless? “I found a steel, silver-colored collar in a red velvet pouch. In your dresser drawer.”

“I heard you the first time.”

“Was it for me?”

“Of course it was for you. Did you think it was for someone else? Did you think I’d ask someone else to wear it? That it meant something casual?”

“No.” She felt as if they were having two separate conversations, with neither of them comprehending the other’s point of view. “Do you really not understand what the problem was?”

“No,” he said. “I don’t.”

Emotion, angst and upset coiled in her. “You wanted to put that thing on me?”

“You are correct. I was waiting for the right time for us to discuss it.”

“That’s what you don’t understand. For me, the time would never have been right.”

“Sarah, for Christ’s sake, I loved you. I wanted to marry you. And you’re telling me you ran away, vanished, because you found a collar in my dresser drawer?”

She remembered the moment, the horror. She’d been crazy in love with him, and she’d had a suspicion that he’d been planning to propose. They’d had discussions about the future, even about rings. “That…thing wasn’t a nice piece of jewelry that I could have passed off as a necklace.”

“Of course not. It wasn’t meant that way.”

“The whole world would have known.”

“Is that your issue? You didn’t want others to know you were mine. How’s that different from a wedding ring?”

“Were you always so obtuse?” she asked.

“Were you always so ridiculous?” he countered.

“This is why I didn’t stay to talk,” she said. “There are certain things you can’t be reasonable about. You wouldn’t have been happy until I gave in and let you snap it into place.”

“And thrown away the key.”

Her pulse stuttered.

“Damn it, Sarah. Really? Do you think I would have done that?”

“Yes.”

“I never made you do anything you didn’t want to, until you were ready. We could have worked it out.”

“That’s my point.” She curled her hands into tight fists. “You’d have been relentless. You would have worn down my defenses. I’d have capitulated to make you happy. And that wouldn’t have worked for me. I would have ended up resenting you. I know what it represents to you.”

“Tell me.”

Part of her thought this discussion was ludicrous. But, as she’d told Julien, she hadn’t really expected Reece to make it easy for her. “Ownership.”

“Like a car?”

“No.” She reached for a sip of wine. The conversation seemed surreal. “Like a slave.”

“And that would have changed our relationship, how?”

“I wasn’t a slave. I could never have been a slave.”

“A
slave.
That’s your word, Sarah. It’s not mine. It was never mine.”

She scowled, mentally sifting back through their numerous conversations about submission and Dominance.

“At any rate, tell me what you think that would have meant to you.”

She took a breath. “I would have been at your mercy all the time.”

“Go on.”

“It would have meant that I put your needs above mine. That I subjugated my will to yours.” She picked at the edge of her napkin.

He closed his hand over hers. “Look at me when you talk to me,” he said.

She was spared from further discussion when the waiter returned to collect the salad plates.

Seeing the untouched food, he asked, “Is everything okay?”

“Fine,” Reece said. “Hold off on the main course for about twenty minutes.”

The man nodded then left them alone. She was aware of a little more noise around them as, apparently, more diners were being seated on the other part of the patio.

Without her really noticing, the sun had set, and solar lights spilled out a gentle, soothing blue beam that didn’t defuse the tension between them.

“I’m waiting,” Reece prompted.

Tension arced between them.

“My whole life would have been wrapped up in thinking about you, trying to please you. And what about me? I wasn’t as strong as I am now. You would have consumed me, Reece.”

“Well then, in that case, you were right to run.”

Sarah frowned. She’d expected him to deny it or argue, but to essentially agree with her? “Do you deny it?”

“We can’t go back in time. But tell me, what is a collar?”

“What is
this
?” she countered. “A pseudo-intellectual discussion?”

“Humor me,” he suggested, still holding her hand. “Let’s keep it at this level, rather than a personal one, for now.”

“We had friends in the lifestyle, Reece. We both know what it means.”

“I know what it means to me. Educate me about
you.
”

When he used a tone that sounded engaged and interested, she was helpless. “The collar…it was unyielding.” She shivered.

“Of course it was. That’s the point.”

“It had an O-ring on it. So you could use it for bondage, as well?”

“It was more decorative, but yes. Your point is well taken.”

“God.”

“Keep talking. Beyond that, what does it mean?”

“It’s a symbol. An expression to the whole world that you’ve claimed me.”

“Only people in the lifestyle would recognize its significance.”

“Reece, if I wore a collar that obvious, everyone would know something was up.”

Repeatedly, he feathered his thumb across the back of her hand. “So your objection is that others would know you’re my sexual plaything?”

“No. Yes.”

“Why would that bother you? Most couples have sex.”

“Why wouldn’t it bother you?”

“Because I was proud of you. Because our rings would have shown our commitment to each other.”

His comment caught her off guard. “You would have worn a wedding ring?”

“Proudly.”

“I’d have bet you would have refused.” What else had she presumed? What else had she gotten wrong?

“The collar would never have meant that you were my sexual plaything. I find that insulting. It would have demonstrated your devotion to me.”

She pulled her hand back.

“There’s nothing nefarious about it. I never intended to put you on a leash and tether you to a wall while I was gone. Nor did I consider buying you a steel cage.”

That image made her recoil, just as she was sure he had intended.

“To me, Sarah, your love was my most treasured possession.”

Tears stung her eyes.

“I valued you above all others. I spent a week shopping for a collar. When I couldn’t find something that suited, I had it made.” More quietly, he continued. “Maybe I was wrong about you. Perhaps you didn’t possess the sense of self to wear my collar without losing yourself. But frankly I was never worried about that. I would have never been interested in a woman without a backbone. A woman who considered herself less than my equal wouldn’t have kept my interest. And I certainly would never have considered dating her, let alone marrying her. But perhaps you knew yourself better than I thought I knew you.”

Not much left her speechless, but this—he—did.

“I would have never put it on you, let alone locked it into place and thrown away the key without a lot of discussion with you. Treating you with great care was of paramount importance.”

“And what if I had refused it?”

“I would have naturally hoped you would reconsider. I would have asked repeatedly, hoping to wear you down. But I would have never forced you into it.”

She suddenly couldn’t breathe.

Instead of wine, she grabbed her water and took a big gulp as she struggled to right her skewed emotions.

The waiter returned with their dinner plates.

“Spiny lobster?” she asked. Her mouth watered despite the conversation that had stolen her appetite and fractured everything she’d taken for granted.

The waiter nodded his confirmation. “Melted butter,” he said, indicating a silver-colored cup. “And blue cheese butter. Anything else I can bring you?”

After ensuring she had everything she needed, Reece said, “This is perfect. Thank you.”

“Yes, sir. Enjoy your meal.”

Despite her nerves and upset, her stomach grumbled. “You remembered that I said I wanted to try this?” she asked when they were alone.

“Sarah, I remember every word you ever uttered.”

She speared a piece of the meat and dipped it in the blue cheese butter. The combination, succulent lobster with clarified butter and pungent cheese, was an explosion on her taste buds. She closed her eyes.

“I always enjoyed watching you eat,” he said. “You could make a saint dream of going to hell.”

She looked at him. His gaze was locked on her, and she realized that he hadn’t taken a bite.

His single-minded focus and pursuit were something else she’d missed when she was with other men.

“So how is it?”

“Everything I imagined. Not as sweet as Maine lobster. And, this might sound strange, but it tastes a bit meatier. I’m a fan.” She took a sip of wine. “Even this was well thought out.”

“I asked the sommelier. She tells me the Sauvignon Blanc is not intimidated by the melted butter.”

“Seriously?”

“Could I make that up?”

“I suppose not.” She grinned for the first time that evening.

He smiled back. For a moment, just a flicker of time, she was reminded of the easy evenings they’d once shared at home.

“Everything is perfect.”

“You might think I was trying to seduce you,” he said.

She regarded him over the rim of the glass. “Are you?”

“Depends.”

“On?”

“How brave you are. How honest you’re willing to be.”

“I’m not sure I understand.”

“Tell me what you really want. You accepted my dinner invitation.”

“Invitation?”

“You could have refused. Why did you come? Curiosity, or something more? Julien suggested that you were hoping to exorcise my hold over you. Earlier, our scene… Did it work?”

She remained silent, and she pretended that her hand didn’t waver as she put the glass down. “No,” she said finally. “I was left more restless. And, to be honest, this dinner is making it worse.”

“How so?”

“The way you put your attention on me… It’s as if I’m the only woman in the world.”

“To me, you always have been.”

Her lungs deflated. “I hurt you.”

“Devastated.”

She swallowed deeply. “Julien said as much. I told him that was an exaggeration.”

“No.”

“I’m not sure what to say.”

“I will tell you this much, Sarah. I don’t make the same mistake twice.”

From what she’d seen in the press about his recent success, she’d have said he never made mistakes.