First Kiss (Emma's Arabian Nights, #1) (13 page)

The tension eased between them and she was suddenly ravenous. Ryan leaned over and removed the lid from her plate, sending up a gentle thread of steam and a delicious aroma that made her stomach growl. Evidently, Terry wasn’t only a goddess at massage, she was also a master chef.

After the first bite, Emma moaned in appreciation. “This is awesome.”

“I’m glad you like it.”

During the meal they talked a little bit about what they’d done since high school and mutual friends. Ryan had returned to the area last year after living out in California for several years. He’d been lured back by a partnership offer with a buddy of his in a computer security firm. His dad only lived four hours away from him now, a drivable distance to the western side of Michigan near her parents, and he had extended family on his mother’s side in the area.

She sipped at her wine and watched him eat, loving the way his lips wrapped around the fork. “So you’ve only lived in that house for a little over a year? It’s so beautiful.”

“You can thank my interior decorator for that. I had a total bachelor pad in LA and I was tired of it by the time I was ready to move. I sold everything except my personal stuff and pretty much started from scratch out here. I want something…different in my life now than what I had. I know it sounds dumb, but I was leading a pretty useless existence out in LA. Hooking up with gold diggers, getting caught up in petty drama bullshit, and just barely escaping getting pulled into drugs.”

“Sounds like you made a good choice moving out here.”

He grinned. “Best choice I ever made, Mistress.”

She Emma took a sip of the excellent Chardonnay and turned to watch the last of the sunset. She didn’t usually eat this much on a date due to nerves, but being with Ryan was easy. They’d always had this kind of underlying camaraderie. Talking to him was like talking to an old friend.

An old friend she desperately wanted to fuck.

He stood and came over to her side, then held out his hand. “Would you like to go watch the last of the sunset?”

“Sure.”

They took the stairs to the very top sundeck of the yacht and she sighed in delight. A white overstuffed futon was perfectly positioned so they could watch the last sliver of burning pink slide over the water and onto the other side of the planet. She didn’t object when Ryan pulled her down next to him, and when he held her in his arms she had to suppress a shiver of desire. Being here with him like this made Ryan seem more real somehow. Emma realized that she almost viewed the men that she pro-Dommed as possessions rather than people. The men she dated had been little more than glorified booty calls. Her refusal to get involved with any man who had a chance at her heart had kept her safe so far, but she couldn’t feel any distance between herself and Ryan, psychically or emotionally. Right now, her soul was wrapped around him like a blanket and vice versa.

It was scary.

It was wrong.

It was the most wonderful thing she’d ever felt.

He looked down at her and the fading light on his strong features made anticipation flutter through her stomach. She wanted to kiss him more than she’d ever wanted to kiss anyone. The curve of his lips, the little indentation of a dimple near the left corner, and the memory of how full and soft they were had her lifting her hand to his face.

She studied him then slowly leaned in and brushed her lips over his. Immediate tingles raced up her spine and she let out a little hum of appreciation. A low rumble of desire vibrated from his chest when she straddled him, looking down as he gripped her hips. His gaze was dark and wild, and she could feel his need radiating from his body in heated waves. Then he tilted his pelvis just the slightest bit, situating his hard cock between her legs.

“You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen,” he said in a low voice as he ran his hands from her hips up to her bare arms.

Flushing, she looked away from his gaze to play with a button on his shirt. If she stayed up here with him much longer they’d end up having sex and she’d have to end things between them. She didn’t want that, at all, so she had to compromise between what her heart and her head wanted. Maybe she could have it all if she just took things slow with Ryan.

“Thank you.” Taking a deep breath, she slid off his lap and sighed. “It’s getting late.”

He pulled her next to him, cuddling her to his chest. “You could stay here.”

“No, I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because I can’t have a relationship right now.”

“Why?”

Stiffening, she tried to pull away but he held her closer. “I have my reasons, which are none of your business.”

His grip tightened further and he didn’t let her wiggle away. “It is my business.”

Giving him a small shove, she moved away when he released her and quickly stood. “Take me home.”

Ryan wanted to punch something as anger tightened his muscles. He was so close to winning another night from her, so close, and she chose now to try to freeze him out. Just when he was sure that he’d started on the journey to win her heart. No, this was bullshit. He wasn’t letting her run away. “Emma, you have to know that I want you as more than as my Mistress. If you don’t want to have a relationship with me that’s fine, but at least tell me why. Please.”

She paled and her eyes filled with tears that she probably wasn’t even aware of. “I can’t work and still have a boyfriend, okay? If I love a man, the thought of being a professional Domme for anyone else seems so dirty and wrong. My clients deserve a Mistress who will see to their needs, not become disgusted by the thought of having to touch them.”

“So you’re never going to allow a man into your life?”

“Not until I either get a job that pays as much, or manage to save up enough to go back to graduate school.” She gave him a small sneer and gestured to his yacht. “Unlike you, I have to work for a living.”

That angered Ryan even further and he stood until they were almost nose to nose, or at least they would have been if she wasn’t so much smaller. He immediately reined his aggression back and tried to calm down. She was goading him, trying to drive him away, he was sure of it. Even now she leaned closer to remove the distance between them until they were touching from chest to thigh. Yes, she was pissed, but he could also see fear and longing in her expression.

He was blowing this by pushing her too fast and what she said made sense. The thought of her Emma touching another man, of pleasuring someone else even if it was just non sexual play made want to beat every man who even dared to approach her. He had no choice but to accept it or lose her. He already viewed her as his woman, and there was nothing he wouldn’t do to convince her he was the only man she’d ever need in her life. The urge to care for her, to protect her, to make sure she was always happy filled him until he thought he might go crazy and kidnap her until she agreed that they were meant to be.

That sounded a little bit too much like a psycho, even to himself, so he took a deep breath and focused on the moment. Emma looked to be about two minutes from leaving him for good, so if he was going to convince her to give him another chance, just one more night, he had to do it now. Even if it meant swallowing his pride and pretending he wasn’t falling head over heels in love with her.

Fuck, his life was complicated.

“I understand. Why don’t we just slow things down a bit?”

Hurt shone in her gaze even as she nodded. “Good idea.”

“What are you doing tomorrow night?”

She flushed, but held his gaze. “I’ve got plans.”

It took a great deal of effort to remain casual, but he managed even though jealousy spiked his blood at the thought that her plans might include doing a session with one of her clients at Kiss of Blue.

“May I see you again?”

The delicate tips of her fingers traced against the edge of his tattoo where it peeked through the open button of his shirt. He enjoyed her touch and liked it even more because he knew she did it without thinking. It was as if her body knew what it wanted while her mind was still conflicted so his seduction would have to be there.

“You may.”

“When?”

“I’ll call you.”

Unease gripped him as he wondered if she was just saying that to get him off her back. “Do you promise?”

Her lips softened and she cupped her cheek with her small, sinfully soft hand. “I promise.”

Coming Soon, Second Touch, Book #2 of Emma’s Arabian Nights.

With over thirty published books, Ann is Queen of the Castle to her wonderful husband and three sons in the mountains of West Virginia. In her past lives she's been an Import Broker, a Communications Specialist, a US Navy Civilian Contractor, a Bartender/Waitress, and an actor at the Michigan Renaissance Festival. She also spent a summer touring with the Grateful Dead-though she will deny to her children that it ever happened.

From a young age she's been fascinated by myths and fairytales, and the romance that   often  was the center of the story. As Ann grew older and her hormones kicked in, she discovered trashy romance novels. Great at first, but she soon grew tired of the endless stories with a big wonderful emotional buildup to really short and crappy sex. Never a big fan of purple prose, throbbing spears of fleshy pleasure and wet honey pots make her giggle, she sought out books that gave the sex scenes in the story just as much detail and plot as everything else-without using cringe worthy euphemisms. This led her to the wonderful world of Erotic Romance, and she's never looked back.

Now Ann spends her days trying to tune out cartoons playing in the background to get into her 'sexy space' and has accepted that her Muse has a severe case of ADD.

Ann
loves
to hear from her readers and you can find out more about Ann at:

http://www.annmayburn.com

https://www.facebook.com/ann.mayburn.5

https://twitter.com/AnnMayburn

Pintrest Inspiration Board for ‘First Kiss’-

http://www.pinterest.com/annmayburn/first-kiss-emmas-arabian-nights-1/

Club Wicked Series

My Wicked Valentine

My Wicked Nanny

My Wicked Devil

My Wicked Trainers

My Wicked Gypsy (Coming Soon)

Virtual Seduction Series

Sodom and Detroit

Sodom and the Phoenix

Blushing Violet

Bound for Pleasure (FemDom)

Ivan’s Captive Submissive

Sensation Play

Still (FemDom)

Peppermint Passion

The Breaker’s Concubine

(Long Slow Tease, #1)

FemDom Military Romance

Prologue

Present Day

Michelle Sapphire closed her eyes and counted to ten, straining with every ounce of her formidable self-control not to launch herself at the asshole secured in the restraint chair in front of her.

Grinning at her.

“Yes, Officer, I know this man.”

Oh, she knew this man all right. Wyatt Maverick Callahan. Also known as Marine Gunnery Sergeant Callahan, “Gunny” to the men and women in his unit, and darling boy to his doting mother. A decorated war hero with six tours of the Middle East under his belt. During the last tour, he'd been part of the security detachment assigned to her regiment. She'd been sitting next to him in the M-ATV when the mortar ripped through his troop transport and inflicted the wound that sent him home, essentially ending his military career and winning him another Purple Heart.

Now, here he sat wearing a vintage Pink Floyd tee shirt probably older than he was, faded, grass-stained blue jeans that fit like they'd been painted on, and scuffed boots desperately in need of a polish. He had a good two to three days growth of beard that accentuated his knife-sharp cheekbones. And he still, somehow, managed to look hotter than fucking sin.

“Ms. Sapphire,” the older policeman standing next to Callahan started to say before Wyatt lunged forward as much as he could while strapped down to the chair.

“That’s
Doctor
Sapphire to you,” Callahan snarled and Michelle’s right fist ached with the need to beat his ass.

Ignoring the female officer trying to block her, Michelle got right up in Callahan's face, nose to nose. She didn’t care if she was in her Hello Kitty pajama pants and a faded pink tank top, or that her hair was hanging loose around her shoulders in a blonde frizz. This motherfucker's phone call woke her up to come bail his sorry, drunk ass out of some tworoom jail south of Austin after she'd worked a twelve-hour night shift at the clinic. And she hadn’t had any coffee before leaving the house.

He was a dead man.

“Hi, Callahan,” she said in a sugary sweet voice.

Up this close she could see the flecks of green and gold in his now bloodshot hazel eyes. He had long, thick dark lashes, the kind women would kill for, and a full, sensual mouth. His dark hair was longer than she’d ever seen it, but then again they’d both gotten out of the military about a year ago. Sorrow flashed through his gaze and, for a split second, she got a glimpse of the suffering man behind the wise-ass persona.

He smiled that panty-dropping smile that had every female within a fifty foot radius fluttering their lashes. “Hi, Doc. You said, if I ever needed you, I could call you.”

“I did.” Nailing him with her gaze, she enjoyed how he fidgeted. “Well let me inform you of something, Callahan. Right now, I really regret saying that if your idea of help is me bailing you out of the drunk tank.”

Wyatt glared at her, his perfect upper lip curling in a manner that made her want to bite it. Sweet Mary, mother of God, put her in his presence for more than five minutes and her whole body ached for his touch. She’d hoped that their time apart would have lessened the impact his presence had on her but, if anything, it had grown stronger. Electricity, sharp and biting, arched between their bodies as their gazes locked. He was so very, very angry beneath all that sorrow, a storm of emotion battering him from the inside out.