Inside the Lines: Without a Trace series, a contemporary erotic romance novel (10 page)

“Hm. We’ll see how incorrigible you think I am later tonight,” she teases as her arm moves beneath the table.

“Hey, you two. Get. A. Room. I’m the baby here, and you might ruin my innocence.” Noah holds his napkin over his eyes.

“Younger by two freakin’ months,” I point out as we’re both twenty-eight, but at this point, we’re all laughing.

Noah gives me a pointed look. “Are you going to tell them your other awesome news?”

Ella’s eyes light up as she and Ian look expectantly at me.

I wasn’t keeping it a secret, but I wasn’t sure if I was ready to admit it was real, either. So I inhale deeply before the words tumble out. “Well, it was rumor up until today. But I got the official word from Divine, Inc. earlier today—they own Paddled as well as a couple of sex clubs in L.A. and Chicago,” I explain as my stomach jumps at the idea of saying my news out loud, “they want to invest in Kinked.”

“Congratulations!” Ella jumps out of her chair to hug me. “This is so awesome! I told you it would rock.”

Ian embraces me as well. “Very happy for you, Lux.”

Once again seated, Ella digs out her phone. “My best friend, entrepreneur, and business owner of the hottest new international dating site…smile for the camera, Ms. Trace.”

I make a fish face, and she snaps the photo.

“This calls for champagne.” Ian signals the waiter, and within minutes, we’re toasting.

“To your hard work and success,” Noah says, and we all join in with “salute” and clink glasses.

As I sip the sharp, fruity champagne, two emotions race though my veins: giddy excitement and jittery fear. But for once, the excitement is stronger.

Ella meets my gaze across the table, her smile of pride a boon to my nerves. “You’re going to rock this, lady.”

I nod and hold my glass out to hers again. “Agreed.”

The downside to getting investors? Shit gets real.

For the next two days, I spend day and night with Noah, fine-tuning my business plan in order to submit a final version to Divine, Inc.’s accounting and marketing departments, as well as to the CEO. I advertise on freelance and free posting sites for coding and website experts, graphic designers, and internet dating consultants.

“How are you going to pay for this?” Noah asks as I receive responses to my ads and price quotes.

“Since I don’t yet have any paperwork from Divine, with my savings. Do you mind if I don’t pay the rent for the next six months?” I tease.

He grins. “I can take out your rent in other ways.”

“Hm.” I look at him appraisingly. “I can totally whip your ass and have you begging for release in five minutes flat.”

With a laugh, he nods. “You’d definitely have me begging—for you to stop.” He shivers. “I’m definitely not into pain.”

“Don’t knock it ‘til you try it, Storm.”

He looks mildly afraid, but then he sobers. “Lux, if you need to skip a few month’s rent, that’s fine. Seriously. I can pay for everything on my own.”

I shake my head. “No. I’ll figure it out. But thanks.”

The cost estimates are broad, ranging from ouch to yowie, and I’m not even sure I know what to look for, but I parse out the information, using my knowledge of spreadsheets gleaned from a few years as an account manager before my Dominatrix days.

By the end of the next week, I’ve interviewed and selected a handful of designers and coders to work on the website, and I’ve got meetings scheduled for the next three months with Divine, Inc.’s marketing team. I make an appointment with Divine’s project manager for Kinked to sign the final paperwork. I should be elated. And I am…mostly. But there’s still a part of me that cautions:
you’ve never done anything like this. You could be a total failure. Who do you think you are, to take on a project this large, interfere with the love lives of people, and then expect to make a living?

I try to ignore it, to push away the negative thoughts, but I’d be lying if I said I was confident. I want this. I do. But what if I fail?

Fin asks me out for, of all things, bowling. I’ve long since clipped my nails short, as any amount of computer work puts a stop to my sexy, long nails. It doesn’t matter, though—I’m a horrible bowler. Fin refuses to believe me until after our first game where I can count more gutter balls than points.

“Ye’re terrible,” he finally agrees in disbelief.

I sit back in the molded chair, grinning. “Told you. Worst. Bowler. Evah.” I own the title quite happily.

“Do ye want me to help ye a bit?” He’s so baffled by my complete inability, he stares at me in awe.

“Nope. I’m not that into it. But I’m happy to let you whip my ass…here.” I wink and take a sip of my soda.

He reaches for my hands, pulling me to my feet and kissing me soundly. “Aye. But I’d rather do it elsewhere,” he teases.

How on earth is this turning me on? Yet it is, and I refuse to contemplate it further. “Keep dreaming, MacKenzie.” I punctuate my response by nibbling his bottom lip, then tracing it with my tongue.

When we finally separate, he clears his throat. “Well, I’ve no wish to keep beating ye
here
. What else would ye like to do?”

We’re both dressed casually, and my jeans are getting more wear than typical. I’m also saving on makeup costs, as I enjoy being a bit more bare-faced around Fin. There’s something about him that puts me at ease, and I don’t mind looking younger and less edgy. Usually I hate that I look barely legal—hard to garner much respect that way. With Fin…it’s different. He makes me feel like it doesn’t matter. Which brings up all sorts of uncomfortable questions that I don’t want to deal with.

“We could go home and find fun things to do.” I link my hands behind his neck. “We can even stop by the sex shop on our way back to see if we find something fun to enjoy.”

His eyes widen. “A sex shop? I canna say I’ve ever been to one.”

I lean back in his arms, face to the ceiling. “You are such an innocent!” Then I smile at him. “I feel like I’m Mrs. Robinson, debauching her young lover.”

“I’m willing to be corrupted, Mistress.” He nuzzles my neck, finding the spot to nip with his teeth that sends my hormones soaring.

“Then I shall lead on, my little lamb. Into the lion’s den we go.”

Shay’s Sexy Suite is anything but a lion’s den. Fashionably decorated with soft, reddish pink chintz and white velvet, it screams girly good times, rather than sexual depravity. Shay burns a light incense in the back, which, when combined with whatever strawberry fragrance she uses out front, creates a welcoming patina for the senses. Fin is, as usual, completely at ease, his fascination with the array of elegant toys on display refreshing. Hell, I could just watch him walk around the room and get turned on.

In the “back room,” the decor turns dark and moody, but still with a feminine vibe. Here, Shay sells the heavier sex items, like expert canes and whips that are hand-crafted by artisans from all over the world. Fin loses himself in examination of crops, and I wander over to the leatherwear.

When I feel a light hand on my shoulder, I turn in surprise.

“Mistress Hathaway!” Ari practically leaps into my arms with enthusiasm. “So good to see you.” She busses my cheek lightly, then steps back in sudden shyness. “This is my friend, Bryant.”

A dark-haired man steps up beside her, built nearly as petite as she is, though he stands a head taller than her. “Nice to meet you, Mistress. Ari’s told me a lot about you.”

I take his hand in a firm shake. “Good to meet you as well.” Ari’s glowing with happiness, and Bryant seems smitten. “You look happy, my dear. I’m glad to see it.”

“Oh, I
so
am. Thanks to you.” Her light skin flushes, and she glances over when Fin approaches. “Oh, wow. Hi! I didn’t know you two were a couple.”

Ah, the moment of truth. “Fin, you remember Ari, I’m sure. Bryant, Fin.”

The difference between the two men is particularly obvious as Bryant’s slim hand gets lost in Fin’s. If Bryant knows who Fin is, or how recently he had sex with Ari, he doesn’t let on.

We engage in the requisite small talk, but Ari and Bryant are clearly into each other and want to get going. Ari follows Bryant out after we’ve said goodbye, but after a moment, she returns and pulls me aside.

“Bryant is nothing like the guys I told you about before. I’ve known him for years, but I never had the guts to act on his interest.” She hugs me again. “Thank you so much.” Her eyes shine with joy.

I drop a kiss on her forehead. “You are very welcome. I’m glad you’re happy. He seems like a keeper.”

She nods, then casts a sly glance over at Fin. “So does he. I’m happy for you, too.”

We exchange grins, and my heart feels lighter as I watch her nearly skip out of the room towards her lover. I slip behind Fin and thread my arms around his waist. “Watch’ya looking at?” I peer around his shoulder.

He’s handling a rubber flogger handmade from recycled bike tires, according to the description on the price tag. I crane my neck to see his expression, amused when I discover something between horror and fascination there.

“You thinking you’d like to give that a whirl?” I tease.

He doesn’t say anything, just lays it back out on its display pad. His arm circles my waist, drawing me against his side, and then he whispers, “I’d be begging for death.”

I laugh. “Only if your lover doesn’t do it right. It’s not as bad as it looks.” I glance back at the flogger. “Well, maybe that one is. But we’ll stick with the fun stuff.” I wink at him, and we return to the front.

Shay is dusting the front counter, looking nothing like a sex shop owner.

“Lux Trace? Girl, get over here and give me a squeeze!”

I gladly follow instructions, as Shay is a dear friend. Tall, with plenty of curves, her mixed ethnic background reads like a Who’s Who of the Middle East. As a single mom with three kids, she’s always been tough as nails, but she’s well known in the kink and vanilla communities alike as someone who makes it comfortable for just about anybody to buy something to amp up their sex life.

I introduce Fin, and she gives me a knowing grin. “Uh-huh. So you’re looking for a little something to spice up the night?”

Fin turns an attractive shade of pink. “What would ye recommend?”

“I recommend you keep talking, gorgeous. Damn, girl, how do you stand it? With that sexy accent and that smile—not to mention those eyes—you just come with me, honey. We’ll see who you go home with tonight.” She grins as only Shay can, loops her arm through Fin’s, and guides us over to the center of the shop. She explains several dildos and vibrators to Fin that, in fairness, look more like art pieces than sex toys. He asks questions, eyes several items seriously, and then finally settles on a vibrator.

I watch, surprised by how open Fin continues to be. Of course, it doesn’t hurt that he never stops glancing my way and giving me that crooked smile that sends my heart into flight. Damn him.

On our way out of the store, there’s a gorgeous display of hand-painted jewelry, and I stop to check it out. The piece that catches my eyes is a deep blue leather cuff covered in an ornately detailed peacock’s feather.

“I thought ye dinna like to be restrained?”

“These are jewelry. Completely different.” The price tag is no small thing, so I admire but keep walking. “We should get home. We have a vibrator to try out tonight. You’re the one who’ll be restrained anyway.”