“He’s good people. A little off the wall, but I think you’ll like him.”
She smiled. It was flattering he’d thought of her. “Thank you.”
“No problem. Hopefully you won’t be able to make that date on Wednesday.”
She gazed at him for a moment, but clearly, he wouldn’t have asked about lunch if he hadn’t wanted to do it. But he valued her getting a job even higher, which was touching. She should be as generous. But she didn’t want to be. She kissed him, remembering what he said about it being more intimate than having sex. With the way he kissed back, she understood what he meant. All his attention was focused in his tongue, swirling against hers. He curled his strong fingers behind her head, taking control of the kiss and pressing her into his lips.
Yeah. This is what I want.
The blanket slipped from her shoulders, and she didn’t care. Being naked in his arms, with him still in pants and boots, was a delicious reminder of the power exchange that had passed between them. The transition from equal to submissive was as easy as shrugging off a blanket. She devoted herself to the wet slipperiness of the moment.
Chapter Five
Amanda wore a dress she hadn’t worn for ages that Wednesday morning, a flowery print with a flouncy skirt that she had once bought for going to church on Easter. Then again, she hadn’t ever before entered Chez Jay’s, Baltimore’s best French restaurant, and she wasn’t entirely sure what kind of dress was expected. It was an unseasonably warm day, and wearing basic black seemed far too dark for the sunshine. At night, she wouldn’t have hesitated. In any case, the bright flowers reflected her mood. Or at least, what she felt her mood should be.
Jeremy’s tip had landed her a job for at least the next six months, maybe longer. His friend Alex hadn’t just wanted a trainer; he’d wanted someone who could do that and help his creative people put their presentations together, and he had a number of employees who didn’t speak English very well. She’d fallen in love with the place the moment she’d walked in the door. Maybe it was the Nerf guns she saw on one person’s desk or the board games stacked on another. Maybe it was the ping-pong table in the break room. Seeing a male employee with bright blue hair and a woman with enough piercings she probably felt a pull every time she passed by a magnet didn’t hurt, either. Amanda had actually had to convince Alex that she wasn’t too much of a square for the job. It was a workplace that valued creativity over structure, and that sounded like the perfect fit. Obviously, Alex had thought so too; he’d called her back to offer the job the day after their Monday interview.
She spotted Jeremy immediately, in a dark suit and a white shirt, with one button unbuttoned, looking as relaxed in the semiformal clothes as he had at the club. He put out an arm, and she slipped her hand inside his elbow. The maître d’ smiled at them and immediately guided them to a table.
“Sorry for being late,” Amanda whispered. “I had to fix up my makeup.”
“Three minutes isn’t late.”
“Darn. I was hoping for a spanking.”
Jeremy chuckled and waived the maître d’ off with a smile before pulling the chair out for her himself. She sat, unaccustomed to such gallantry. Jeremy moved in a different sphere than she did, and she found that both attractive and worrisome. Could she really be what he wanted? She pushed the thought aside. There was plenty to deal with before that was going to become an issue. Her heart felt heavy.
Jeremy sat down. “So I got a note from Alex thanking me for referring you. Have you heard anything?”
She smiled. “Yes.”
That only makes this harder.
“I got the job. Seems we’re a good fit. He doesn’t know if it will be for six months, or more. He doesn’t need a trainer that long, so it’s a question of whether I can adapt to be useful in other ways. But it sounds like I’ll be getting a lot of training myself, and new experiences, so that should be a good resumé builder, and the terms are good. I’m psyched.”
“When do you start?
“Monday next.”
Jeremy grinned. “Then we have something to celebrate. I hope a glass of wine isn’t too far out of line for lunch?”
“Um, I think I can make an exception this once.”
“And would you prefer to order for yourself, or would you like me to order for you?”
She raised an eyebrow at him. “I thought you only wanted to be a dom in the club, and in the bedroom.”
He shrugged and grinned sheepishly. “I haven’t gotten to your bedroom yet, so French restaurants seemed a reasonable stand-in.”
“I’m looking forward to you getting to my bedroom.”
“I’ll order for you, then.”
Amanda leaned back. It was nice to have him take charge. She didn’t want to be a slave, with very little say in the way she ran her own life. But to let go now and then—well, that was lovely. And to be with a man who took charge naturally was worth the potential headache of having to say
no
somewhere down the road. At least she felt comfortable that Jeremy would accept her no.
A lot of the “doms” she’d met seemed to have a problem with that. Some were fetishists, interested in one particular act that they thought they could get to if they got a woman to submit first. Others were trying to live up to what they thought women wanted of them, but deep inside they were little boys. There was nothing little about Jeremy. She blushed.
“What are you thinking?”
“You don’t want to know.”
“Au contraire. Please tell me.”
“I was thinking of how very big you are,” she said. The waiter arrived and raised an eyebrow for a moment. “Bighearted, I mean.”
Now it was Jeremy’s eyebrow that was raised, and he wasn’t in nearly such a rush to lower it. “I see,” he said before turning to the waiter and spouting a stream of French. Somewhere in there was probably the name of the dish she was having, but she was too startled to ferret it out.
“Merci,” said the waiter, who vanished.
“Show-off,” said Amanda.
“Now and then. If I wanted to show off, I’d take you to a piano bar.”
She laughed and then grew serious. “I’d love to hear you play.”
“That’s easily accomplished.”
At this rate, she’d never get to what she needed to say. As lovely as Jeremy was, he was rebounding. She wanted to keep him, but it was easy to feel that way about people when they were shiny and new. He was great at being a dom. But when it came to relationships, she was the one with the experience. Best to keep it light. “I’ll come to a concert.”
He grinned. “I’d be honored. That’s much better than listening to me practice.”
She had a moment’s thought of how that would be, lying back in the evenings while Jeremy played the piano. It sounded lovely. She wondered if he liked watching TV, and if he did, if he would like the same shows. A picture of domestic bliss flashed through her head.
Maybe I should try to get that.
Jeremy covered her hand with his. She hadn’t realized she’d been playing with her fork, and she let it go. “Something is on your mind, Amanda.”
“Maybe I’ll share after lunch.”
Or maybe I’ll chicken out.
“What’s your favorite TV show?”
Jeremy shrugged. “You
will
share after lunch. I don’t watch much television—no, that’s not quite true. I watch baseball.”
She grinned. “I love baseball. Are you an Orioles fan?”
“Yes.”
The conversation lingered happily on baseball until the food came out, and the waiter poured the wine. The exquisitely prepared chicken demanded her full attention for at least the first few delicious bites. “Well ordered, Sir,” she told him.
He smiled.
They chatted about their pets. He owned a standard poodle named Cal that was a trained therapy dog, and sometimes took it to libraries so that children who were shy about reading could read to a nice, safe, nonjudgmental canine. He was fascinated to hear about Snowball and her allergies. Poodles, he assured her, were among the least allergenic of dogs. She wondered if Cal and Snowball would get along.
Way too soon to be thinking about that.
Lunch seemed to sail along, however, with the conversation smooth. He had a way of putting her at ease, and when there was a pause, the silence felt comfortable rather than awkward.
“So what did you want to talk to me about?” he asked after the waiter cleared the last plate away. He covered one of her hands with his, and his hand felt warm, comforting, and strong. He had such marvelous fingers. It was hard not to think of them curling up inside her. Or holding her.
She took a deep breath. “Oh, I don’t
want
to talk to you about it. What do you want, Jeremy? Are you looking to have a lot of play partners, a few relationships, or are you looking for that one special someone?”
Jeremy smiled. “You know, when I came to Excess, I would have said play partners. Maybe not a lot. But no attachments, nothing to tie me down. Just some way to let out the part of me I’ve been bottling inside.”
“The kinky side.”
“Yes.”
“And that’s changed?”
“It’s just not me, Amanda. I don’t operate that way, and in truth I never have, even before I met Cheri. The thought of you playing with someone else bothers me, and I can’t give less of myself than I want of you.”
“Plenty of doms can. They play the field while the girls hope they’ll settle on one. Or they have a regular girl and then play on the side.”
Jeremy shook his head. “Good for them. I’m not that guy.”
Amanda nodded.
“I won’t pretend I want to share you, Amanda. And I won’t pretend I want to be shared.”
“You don’t have to share me.”
Jeremy grinned, and Amanda held up her hand and continued. “I can’t give a man something he won’t give me back. I guess it’s the selfish side of what you stated. But I’m going to make an exception in your case. I won’t see other people, at least until we figure out what we have going on together, because I think it might be special.”
“And how is that an exception?”
“Because
you
will see other people. I’m not going to be forever wondering whether I was just the first submissive you found when you finally decided to look around again. I want to know you’ve looked at the options. I can’t do the full-time slave thing, but I think you’ll find there are girls at Excess that are looking for just that. And even though I’m a great play partner, I’m not willing to be just that to you, either. What you say you want sounds wonderful, but I’ve been burned too many times before. I need you to be sure of what you want.”
He leaned back, shaking his head. “I’m not sure what bothers me more, that you’re ordering me, or that the thing you’re ordering me to do is cheat on you.”
“It’s not cheating if I give you permission. Instead of you staying away from the club because I might have a date, I’ll stay away for a while. But I’ll get reports. I know plenty of people there.” She shrugged. “As to ordering, I prefer it when it flows the other direction too. But I can’t risk my heart—hell, I never risk my heart, Jeremy. I’d rather have it be broken this way than for you to find out I’m not what you want after I fall in love with you.”
Although it could be too late. How can that be? I’ve only known him for a few days.
She didn’t want to see him play with anyone else. But once she decided that he was really hers, she wouldn’t want to let him go, ever. Somehow, she had to not decide that yet.
“You are a remarkable and strange woman.”
“Flattery. You’re not the first man to say I’m strange. Odd, though; the others all walk away.” It wasn’t far from the truth. She was good enough to play with, never good enough for a relationship.
“I know what I want, Amanda, and I’d like to explore it with you. Just because I haven’t dated around doesn’t mean I don’t know a good thing when I see it.”
She almost melted and gave in at that, but she was determined to press on. “Am I a good enough thing to be worth doing what I ask?”
Amanda watched Jeremy’s face. Clearly, he didn’t approve of the idea. There was no way anyone was that good an actor. Most guys she’d met would be all over an offer to let them fool around, but Jeremy wasn’t. She didn’t know what she’d do if he said no.
“I will do as you ask, Amanda. But I have my limits.”
“I’m not placing any on you.”
“I have my own.” He signaled the waiter.
Amanda nodded. The discussion could have gone worse, and clearly it was over as far as Jeremy was concerned, which suited her. The waiter brought the check and then stood discreetly a few feet away. Jeremy glanced at it and tucked some twenties in, and the waiter efficiently scooped it up.
“How much do I owe you?” asked Amanda.
“Dinner, once you’ve had a few paychecks. This time it’s on me, please.”
“I bet I could find another way to pay for it.” She grinned at him and licked her lips.
He looked at her. For a moment, she thought he thought she was serious. She didn’t mind following through, although she certainly didn’t see it as payment for lunch. But if she wasn’t going to see him for a while, she wanted to feel his hands on her once more, first. Although there wasn’t anyplace they could do anything except make out. Hopefully he didn’t think she really—
“You, Amanda, are a brat.” His eyes twinkled.
“You noticed.” The repartee was far preferable to the earlier discussion.
He seized her hand. “Come. I have something I want to show you.”
He led her out onto the street and then kept walking, squeezing her hand in his. She followed, moving quickly to keep up with his long strides. “Where are we going?”
“A nice, public place.”
“Damn.”
He chuckled. “I thought you only felt safe with me in public places?” They took a right at the next corner.
“I was willing to take a risk. There are things we can do in private ones.” It was safe enough to say, since there weren’t any, unless he was going to check into a hotel room or something. There were some high-rise hotels a block farther on, if she remembered right. She’d gone to a science-fiction convention in one of them when she was young.
A block ahead, she saw the sign that said Charm City Symphony, and she knew where he was going. She grinned. He steered her in through a small door which he opened with a key card. “Showing me your workplace?” she asked.