Fortune (8 page)

“Sit down. Sit down or I’ll make a scene.”

She looked in his dark eyes and saw something there besides the disapproving asshole. A spark that promised mayhem, a mischievous glint. A challenge. She sank back into the booth. The waitress returned and Ryan smiled up at her, handing over the menus.

“She’ll have a whole-grain English muffin with fat-free cream cheese and a fresh fruit platter.”

“Strawberries and melons okay?” the waitress asked.

“I hate melons,” Kat muttered under her breath.

The waitress barely glanced at her, just noted Ryan’s approving nod and bustled away. He turned back to Kat.

“Trust me. You’ll feel so much better when you eat something healthy.”

“Trust me. You just so ruined your chances with me.”

He didn’t look too worried. She watched him tear a square out of the paper placemat in front of him and start folding it into some kind of shape. “A relationship with me would do you good,” he said. “A world of good, if you want my opinion.”

“What if I don’t want your opinion? What if I don’t want to have a relationship with you? Especially when I can’t order what I want?”

His mouth twitched a little, a small arrogant smile.

“I think you’d put up with just about anything if I would only spank you again.”

Damn it.
Was she that transparent? She was obsessed with the thought. She’d thought of little else since the night they’d had their little session in the storage room, and even now, sitting across from him, she felt short of breath.
Touch me, fuck me, lecture me, spank me. Just do anything, anything to me.

She’d been so stunned and appalled by what he’d done to her that night she had fled in a panic. Actually, it wasn’t him she was stunned and appalled by… It was herself. She had been a more than willing participant—in fact she’d completely lost her mind under his hands. When he’d told her he was going to spank her, when he glared at her with those stern, knowing eyes, her clit had caught fire.
You are going to stand there, Ekaterina, and I am going to spank your ass for these crazy choices you make.
She’d repeated it to herself a thousand times since then, remembered the stern tenor of his voice, his exacting tone. Every time he spoke to her now she responded sexually, just as sexually as she’d responded that night.

After she’d left him she had gone home, run upstairs to her room and, finding her nieces asleep there, had run into the bathroom instead and masturbated three times to orgasm before she could think straight again. She had slept and dreamed of him all night, the touch of his fingertips pressing her to the door, the obscenely sexy sound of him unbuckling his belt. She ached. She craved him with an intensity that scared her.

Not good, she told herself. Feelings this intense were too dangerous.

She had gone out of her way to avoid him, staying away from the club, not answering his calls. She felt it was better to just never see him again, to forget her experience in the closet and the tidal wave of desire it had unleashed. But then he had shown up for dinner with that smug smile and basked in the thanks of her family while she squirmed beside him in hot anger and lust. She had tried so hard to avoid him, fought herself so hard to just stay away, and there he was again. When he’d lifted her up in his arms she was more than happy to have him take her…but now…now…

He was looking at her as if this was going to be a whole lot more complicated than that. He handed her the folded placemat critter with a look of gravity and she turned it around in her hands.

“What is this? A monkey?”

He tsked. “A crane.”

“What’s a crane anyway? Are they like flamingos?”

“Cranes are among the most honored and mythologized creatures in the world.”

“Mythologized? Is that even a word?”

“Would you like to wager on it?”

Kat looked up at his devilish grin and shifted. “Uh, no. I’m not going to wager against the genius.” She looked back at the origami figure, touched the wide pointed wings and traced the narrow head. “It’s neat that you can do this,” she finally said.

“I can show you how if you want.”

“No. I don’t want.”

“The Japanese consider the crane an omen of fortune and happiness. They believe that folding one thousand origami cranes can earn you a wish.”

She looked up at the tone in his voice. “What kind of wish?”

“Any kind of wish. What do you wish for?”

Happiness. Security. You.
“Nothing. It doesn’t matter anyway. It’s just paper. It doesn’t mean anything.”

“Doesn’t it? My medical license is just paper.”

“But that’s not just paper. That’s all your expertise and knowledge and what it took to get there.”

“Yes, and so is this. It takes a long time and a lot of dedication to fold a thousand cranes.”

“Getting what you want has nothing to do with cranes,” she said stubbornly. She felt the strangest urge to cry. She looked around the diner to distract herself and was relieved to see the waitress approaching with their food. Kat shoved the crane to the side as the waitress put the plates down between them. As unappetizing as it looked, she dug into the fruit plate, picking the strawberries out from the unwanted melon.

“What does it have to do with then?” he asked.

She looked up in surprise. “What?”

“Getting what you want. What does it have to do with, if not with cranes?”

“Is that a trick question? Are you trying to mess with me? Why don’t you just eat your whole-grain omelet or whatever crap you ordered?”

“It’s not a trick question and I’m not trying to do anything to you except get to know you better. See what makes you tick.”

She looked at the gelatinous cream cheese on her English muffin and took a tentative bite. Ugh, the fat-free stuff was disgusting. The small morsel lodged in her throat. She closed her eyes, feeling overwhelmed, trapped and emotional. “I don’t even know what makes me tick,” she said in a tight voice.

“Maybe if you knew you wouldn’t be so unhappy.”

She frowned down at her coffee, at the swirly patterns in the creamy film on top. She took a sip, washing down the offending muffin. “I’m not unhappy. I’m just a really private person. I always have been.”

“Private? Or lonely?”

“I don’t trust people. I don’t trust—look—I mean—”

“You’re an unhappy person.”

She scowled at him. “Simplify much? You don’t understand me because you aren’t like me.”

“Then explain to me. How can I help?”

“I don’t want your help. You helped me quite enough. Anyway, why do you care?”

“Why do you think I care?” His gaze captured hers. That traitorous part of her twisted and flailed to be heard. She pressed her legs together.

“I really don’t know and I don’t want to know.”

He lowered his voice and leaned closer across the table.

“Kat, have you ever heard of something called Dominance and submission?”

Had she ever heard of it? Ever since their interlude the week before, she’d browsed every D/s site she could find. Not that she would admit it to him. She shrugged, pretending nonchalance. “I know a little about it. A few things.”

“What do you know about it?”

“I know you’re into it. That it’s like…spanking…bondage…leather…that kind of stuff.”

“Sure, that’s part of it, but it’s a whole lot more complicated than that.”

“Like how complicated?”

“Sometimes extremely complicated and sometimes not very complicated at all. It depends. When things fall into place between people it can be very simple. If people want complementary things from each other it works like a dream.”

“How do you know? You’ve done it, I guess?”

“Yes. Had some good relationships and some bad. But I’ve never felt for any sub the way I feel for you.”

“I’m not a sub,” she said at once, thinking about the women on the kink sites, trussed and gagged. “I’m not into that weirdo stuff.”

“I think you are. You want to be controlled, taken care of. And I’d like to do the controlling. You need someone to settle you down, to make you feel safe. You want someone to tell you what to do, someone who knows what’s best for you. You want someone to sweep you up and hold you tight.”

How did he know that? He was so completely right but she was still shaking her head in denial, unwilling to accept that her longtime romantic desires translated, somehow, into submission to a man.

“Listen, I know it’s new and different to you,” he went on, his face a picture of empathy. “I know it’s hard to accept at first. You think it will make you weak and helpless when you submit to me.”

“It does make me feel weak and helpless. It did!”

He held up a hand and admonished her quietly. “Remember, I asked you to think first, not just to react. Just think about what I’m saying.”

“Okay,” she muttered. “Explain to me the specifics of how it will benefit me to become your slave.”

“Slave? I never said anything about you being a slave.”

“I thought that’s what it was all about. On those websites—” She stopped, blushing.

He grinned at her. “Been cruising websites? Which ones?”

She named a few of the bigger ones and his smile widened.

“Listen, most of those sites are over the top. They’re porn. Fantasy. I want a sub, not a slave. I’m not going to keep you collared and chained to the bed. You’ll live your own life as you always have. But you’ll also have me. More of what you had in the storage room. I don’t think that would be a really great hardship for you.”

She blushed scarlet, looking down at her hands. The conversation had left her speechless. She choked down another bite of the English muffin, chasing it with another deep swig of coffee.

“There’s nothing wrong with liking it, Kat. With wanting it.”

She shook her head. She didn’t like it. She didn’t want it… Did she?

She did. Why did she want it? What was she going to do now that he was offering it to her?

“I’m not sure about this,” she said finally. “I’m just not sure. I’m not even that good in bed.”

He laughed. “Let me be the judge of that. Anyway, it’s not just about the bedroom. Sex. Fucking. I mean, that’s a big part of it but not the whole thing. Anyway, whatever I want from you, I’ll teach you. I’ll train you to be exactly what I want.”

I’ll train you.
She could barely draw breath. The very idea of it was enough to make her almost orgasm where she sat. But what if he wanted really sick stuff from her? Some of the photos she’d seen on the S&M websites left her more disturbed than aroused.

“What you are you thinking?” he asked.

She shrugged. “I just don’t know what you’ll expect of me. If it will be too much, if I’ll want to do what you ask me or if…”

“If it will be too weird?”

“Yes.”

“Well, what would be too weird for you?”

“I don’t know,” she said, sounding as conflicted as she felt. “I don’t know too much about it. I didn’t like some of what I saw.”

“On those websites? I don’t want you on those anymore, do you understand? Tell me what you saw that so upset you.”

“I don’t know… People hurting people… Burning them with wax, cutting them… Sticking them with needles. Fucking them up with all this hardware.”

“Jesus, Kat,” he said with a smile. “Going right for the hard-core. Leave it to you. What else?”

“I don’t want to be made to look ugly, put in masks or gags or… You know… Have to get weird piercings or be… Marked. Scarred.” She shuddered. “How hard will you hit me. Will you ever…?” She couldn’t finish the thought.

“Oh, Kat,” he said with a sigh. “I wish you hadn’t gone to those sites at all. Look, I want to control and discipline you, not disfigure you. Part of being in a D/s relationship is negotiating. You can have hard limits, things you won’t even consider. Soft limits, things you’re curious about. Things you really do want that you can tell me about. Partners work it all out.”

“You won’t leave marks on me?”

“I won’t leave any marks that won’t fade. But I’ll mark you, yes. I like doing that. I marked you that night at the club, you remember.”

Yes, she remembered. She’d stared at those marks, caressed them, masturbated over them for two days. She’d been disappointed when they started to fade.

“I promise you, it won’t ever be too much,” he said. “We’ll have agreements on how far to go. We’ll use safewords.”

“Safewords?”

“Yes, we’ll have a safeword that will stop me when you feel I’m going too far. I’m not into making you miserable. I won’t force you to do anything you really don’t want to do.”

“But I know you’ll want more than I do.

He chuckled. “I don’t think you know how much you want yet. How much you’ll love what I’m going to do to you. You don’t have any idea yet, but you’ll see. You’ll want much more than you think.”

“So what… How much… How hard…?” Her imagination was stuck in overdrive. She was sure her unease was reflected in the expression on her face.