Mastered: Ten Tales of Sensual Surrender (88 page)

“Why?”

“Let me put it this way. I’d like to correct your first impression of me.”

I pondered the writhing mass of teenage flesh to my right. I couldn’t actually tell where one person ended and the other began.

“Okay. I’ll meet you at the Pink Plumeria coffee place inside the mall in ten minutes.”

“Thank you.”

So polite, those Brits, even when they were probably spitting teeth. I made a run for my car, dumped my groceries inside and headed off to the mall. Nothing in the bags would spoil in the coldish weather, so I didn’t need to go home. I had no intention of making an effort for Alex Logan. He could take me as I was, stained scrubs, straggly dyed blonde topknot and makeup free face.

Was he one of those guys who were convinced they were God’s gift to womankind and saw every interaction as a challenge? He hadn’t seemed like that. There was a quietness and strength to him that had resonated with me. To be honest, I wasn’t used to a man standing up to me. I had kind of enjoyed it, which was why I was meeting him for coffee. In a public place where I’d be safe if he really did get all pissy about being called a pimp.

Driving in the opposite direction to the commute traffic, I got to the mall in record time and parked as close to the entrance as I could get. Then I sat there and let another ten minutes tick by. I didn’t want him to think I was
too
eager to see him again. I found a tube of old lip balm in the glove box and applied it to my dry lips, ran a hand through my bangs fluffing my hair and I was ready to go.

He sat in one of the booths on the side of the coffee shop, his dark head bent over his cell phone, an immaculate rain coat covered what I assumed was another spectacular suit. When I approached he stood up and held out his hand.

“Dr. Reed.”

“Alex.” I shook his hand and slipped into the seat on the other side of the table.

“What can I get you to drink?” He remained standing, one hand in his pocket leaning over me, his pale blue gaze lingering on my face.

“Strong black coffee, no sugar, no cream.”

He nodded and walked over to the counter to deliver the order and then returned to sit opposite me bearing a plate with two cherry scones and a blueberry muffin on it. He put the plate in the center of the space and waved a hand at it.

“Please help yourself.”

I gazed longingly at the muffin and reached for it just as he did the same thing.

He chuckled. “Let’s split it, shall we? It’s big enough.”

A subtle fragrance rose from his steaming cup and I slowly inhaled. “That’s not coffee.”

“In some ways, I’m still a Brit. I love my tea, but most of it tastes like piss in this country so I get the Earl Grey.”

I made a face. “Perfumed girly tea.”

“I suppose it is.” He took a sip. “Thanks for meeting me.”

“You’re welcome.” I made myself meet his gaze. “Actually, speaking of first impressions, I think I’m the one who should be apologizing.”

“For making me forget my manners?”

“No, for suggesting you were involved in hurting Rita.”

His mouth quirked up at the corner. “And, that I was her pimp, don’t forget that.”

“Whatever, it was all very unprofessional of me.”

“I think you had provocation.” He smiled and I couldn’t look away from the sensual curve of his lips. “I was so fucking furious about poor Rita.”

His casual use of profanity didn’t worry me. I’d noticed that most Brits swore all the time and that fuck was a favorite word with many meanings.

“How is she?”

“As far as I know, she’s fine. She’s still with the arsewipe boyfriend, but there isn’t much I can do about that.”

My coffee arrived and I thanked the server who was too busy salivating over Alex to notice.

“I don’t even know why I suggested you were involved with Rita,” I admitted. “You’re not really the type who beats up women.”

“You think you can tell that just by looking at a man?”

“Sure I can. Over the years I’ve met a lot of wife beaters, pimps and creeps in the ER and I can see through the charming veneer pretty quickly now. Whereas with you, quite honestly, I just wanted to rile you.”

He considered me for a long moment. “I can understand that. Apparently, I can be rather intimidating at times.” He hesitated. “Would you consider going out to dinner with me?”

“For what reason?”

“I think we need to clear the air.”

“Aren’t we doing that now? Look, we barely know each other, and sure, it’s obvious that I’m attracted to you, but that doesn’t mean you have to like me back. I can take a hint, you know.”

“Why are you attracted to me?”

“Because you don’t back down from a fight.”

He raised an eyebrow. “We were hardly fighting, Doctor, I saw our altercation more as a testing of wills.”

“A test you passed with flying colors.” I lowered my voice. “Look, I’m too old to waste my time on a man who isn’t interested, and can’t give me what I want.”

“You’re hardly old.”

“I have a demanding job and very little time to socialize. I want a man who can deal with that and satisfy me in bed.”

“How very…direct of you.”

“You object to a woman being upfront about her sexual needs?”

“Not at all. In fact, I’m all for it.” He sat back. “Tell me what satisfies you in bed?”

I shrugged. “Despite everything I just said, I like a man who tells me what to do.”

His face went still. “I don’t think you have any idea what you’re asking for.”

“I know what I like.”

“Let me guess. You want a man to tie you up, spank your arse and make you call him Sir.”

“There’s nothing wrong with any of those things in a consensual relationship.”

“I agree, but I don’t play those kind of games.”

“I’m not sure I believe you. You said—“

He held up his hand. “I
said
I liked giving my lovers what they wanted.”

“So if I asked you to tie me up and flog me, you’d be okay with that?”

His eyes were cold. “I don’t play games.”

I studied his calm face. “Then what do you do?”

“If you really want to know I suggest you have dinner with me.”

“You’re relentless.”

He reached over and took my hand. “There’s nothing stopping you walking away from me right now, and you know it.”

I sighed. “Okay, then, dinner it is.”

Chapter Two

I made him wait for two days until Friday night, nine o’clock at the best hotel in town. The
only
hotel in town, actually, but they did a good steak dinner and I was happy with that. After years of being a doctor, going out without my scrubs on still felt vaguely alarming, as if I had to make an
effort
or something. I tried. I put on a black halter neck dress and I brushed my hair. That in itself was a miracle. My friend Holly would definitely approve.

I checked my phone as I approached the hotel lobby, but there were no messages, and no apparent emergencies to drag me back to the hospital. I almost wished there were. At work I was the one with the answers—the one in control. I still wasn’t quite sure why I’d agreed to have dinner with him, especially after what he’d suggested. That he’d be too much for me, that he didn’t play
games
…

As if we weren’t deep into one already.

But I couldn’t resist. That’s the truth. I just couldn’t.

I saw him immediately sitting in the dimly light beige lobby. He rose to his feet and came toward me. I’d like to say he smiled, but it was more of a minute relaxing of his stern expression.

“Dr. Reed.”

“Mr. Logan.”

He did smile, then. “Alex is fine.”

“Then I’m Julia.”

He turned toward the elevators, one hand settling low in the small of my back. “Shall we go up?”

“Only if it’ll get me into the restaurant quicker than walking.”

He pressed a few buttons and then looked down at me. “Do you want to eat in the restaurant? I thought you might prefer the privacy of my suite.”

I stared at the peeling paint on the elevator doors. “I want my dinner.”

“The restaurant it is then.”

Two minutes later, we were settled at a table by the window overlooking the bright lights of downtown Silversmith and the straggle of tourist attractions that lit up the old highway. If you believed the historians, during the gold rush the place had been packed with over one hundred thousand souls. Now the population was around thirty thousand and it served as a dormitory town for the bigger and more successful cities of the Californian gold country.

Alex consulted with me about the wine and ordered a bottle of something I’d never heard of, which made the waiter’s manner change from bored to obsequious. While we considered the menu, I took the opportunity to check out my dinner date more closely. He had black hair cut very short, those amazingly pale blue eyes and the fine bone structure of a Russian greyhound. I reckoned he was in his mid-thirties, but it was difficult to say. Holly always said I was too used to dealing with the sick and the dying to have any idea of what a healthy man looked like.

“So what’s it to be?”

I looked down at my menu again. “Steak, I think, you?”

“The same.”

I put the laminated plastic sheet down on the table and considered him. Whatever happened later, I was going to treat this dinner like a good old-fashioned date. “So what’s a nice boy like you doing in Silversmith?”

“Having dinner with you?”

“You’re not staying here, then?”

“I have an office and a suite upstairs, but it’s not my only home.”

“Which would be the UK, right? You have a definite British accent.”

“Technically, as I’m English and speak that language, you’re the one with the accent.” He lined up his silverware and then looked at me. “I have dual nationality. My father’s English and my mother’s American.”

“Best of both worlds.”

“You could say that.” Another slight smile. “And what about you? What made you choose to live here?”

“In the middle of nowhere? I have family in the Bay Area. I’m close enough, but not too close.”

“Ah, I understand.”

The waiter returned and we ordered. The restaurant was only half full and the low murmur of conversation hardly reached our secluded corner.

“Are you surprised that I took you up on your invitation?”

He glanced over at me. “”Not at all. You don’t strike me as a coward. I admired the way you stood up for your patient and didn’t let me browbeat you.”

I grinned at him. “You’re kidding, right? I’m a doctor in the ER. I’ve been spat

on, punched in the face and threatened with so many sharp instruments that you looking down your nose at me and emoting about the state of healthcare hardly registered.”

“Well, that puts me firmly in my place.”

“You Brits are far too polite to ever be truly terrifying, you do know that?”

“We seem to have done rather well as a nation despite that.”

“Not any more. It’s all about the USA now, man. Or maybe China.” I sipped at my water. “So why are you in Silversmith?”

“I’m scoping out new investment opportunities for the family business.”

“Which is…?”

“Involved in the hospitality industry.”

“That’s not very specific.”

“I didn’t realize you’d be interested in my line of work or I would’ve brought the company prospectus with me.”

He sat quietly, letting me look my full of him. The wine arrived. Alex tasted it and allowed the waiter to fill our glasses. I picked mine up and touched it against his.

“Welcome to Silversmith.”

“Thank you.” He hesitated. “We’re considering buying this chain of hotels. I’m going to be here for most of the summer.”

“And you’re telling me this, because?”

“Because we’re highly likely to bump into each other.”

I sat back. “As I said, if you’re not interested in being the kind of man I need that’s okay. I’m not offended or anything, and I certainly won’t start stalking you.”

“I’m not sure you know what you want.”

“And I don’t appreciate you thinking you know me better than I know myself.” I took in a slow calming breath. “Don’t ask me to believe you’re not a dominant after sprouting all that crap. I’m quite capable of deciding my sexual needs.”

“There’s only one way to find out. After dinner, let me take you upstairs.”

A shiver ran through me as I considered his preposterous suggestion. Nice girls didn’t go to bed with men on first dates—did they?

But I wasn’t a nice girl.

“What if it’s a complete disaster?”

He shrugged. “Then we go our separate ways.”

“You make it sound so easy.”

“It is.” He’d retained my hand and now he kissed my palm. “Come to bed with me.”

I fixed him with a severe stare. “You’re nuts.”

“I want you.”

I wanted him back.

Something flickered in the back of his eyes and he rose to his feet. “Let’s go.”

I followed him out of the restaurant, listened to his smooth explanation to the waiter about plating up our dinner and sending it up to his suite and just let things happen. I’m not sure why. It wasn’t really like me to let some man take charge like that.

That’s not true either.

In the elevator he held my hand, his thumb working over mine in smooth endless circles. He typed in a code on the keypad to gain access to the top floor of the hotel, and the doors opened into a marble lobby with a single apartment entrance.

The moment the front door shut behind us, he backed me up against it and kissed me. And God, I let him. I let myself be surrounded by his heat and taste, by the press of his body against mine and the thick rod of his cock throbbing against my stomach. I wanted that cock. I wanted all of him.

He took his time kissing me, learning my mouth and my taste as I learned his, his clever tongue making me think of what else he might choose to lick and suck and circle. His hand slid to the back of my dress and I felt the zipper release until I was standing there in my best bra and panties. Not that they matched or anything, but that didn’t seem to bother him.

He stood back, held out his hand and helped me step out of my dress, walking me backward, deeper into the apartment, drawing me through thick soft white carpet into a sitting area. He sank into one of the huge couches and angled me onto his lap, my legs on either side of him, my already damp panties right over the bulge of his cock.