Mystery Date (Harlequin Blaze) (13 page)

“You comfortable?” he asked.

“Yes. I kind of wish I could see what I look like, though. I’ve never worn lingerie that feels this nice.”

For a second he wondered if she was still getting used to her new appearance, all the weight she’d lost. But she would’ve looked just as good with those extra curves as she did now.

“You’d be pleased with what you see, just like I am,” he said. “Remember when I mentioned the satin doll?”

She nodded.

“That’s you,” he said. “A living doll to admire.”

“A blow-up doll who won’t kiss and tell?”

“No.” In spite of their no-strings-attached arrangement, she wasn’t just an object to him. Then again, that was how this whole thing had started out, wasn’t it? With her being a challenge, a Taste of Honey date that wouldn’t last for more than a night. But somewhere along the line, that idea had gone off the rails, and he was trying to get it back on.

And he would, just as he controlled everything else in his life: the finances he’d tripled since inheriting them from Carla, his emotions when it came to meeting women online or going on a so-called blind date like this....

He led Leigh toward the window, where a silk damask upholstered chair with thick mahogany armrests and legs waited. Sitting her down, he backed away.

“I’m going to dress you a little more,” he said.

“In what?”

“I’ll tell you as I’m doing it.”

As she reclined in the chair, he snatched the toe shoes from the mattress. Beth, who’d taken ballet lessons in her youth, had shown him how to tie them after he’d ordered all the different outfits and had them express delivered.

He carefully eased the slippers onto Leigh’s feet, wrapping the long satin strands around one ankle, then the next.

“And something else.” He fetched the last detail from the bed.

“Just tell me,” she said.

“Trust me, remember?” He took a silken cord and laid it over her wrist. “Do you know what this is?”

“I remember seeing it on the mattress.” A mere whisper.

“I won’t do this if you don’t want it.”

She hesitated, and he almost backed off, disappointment heavy in his belly.

Then she leaned her head back on the chair.

“Try it,” she said, and he heard how the excitement laced her voice now.

A first time for everything, he thought. And he would make her first time worthwhile.

He secured her wrists with both cords, then guided one of her feet to the leg of the chair.

“Is this okay?” he asked.

She must’ve felt the air brushing against the center of her thighs, because she’d let her head cant to the side in obvious restlessness.

“Yes,” she said.

Keeping himself in line, he avoided looking at anything but her ankle as he tied her, then worked on the other one.

When he was done, her legs were parted, her toes en pointe just like a ballerina’s, her most private place clearly damp with excitement.

But there was more. So much more.

He lifted a feather from the bed, waiting. One minute. One minute and a half.

“Where are you?” she asked anxiously.

“Here.”

“What’re you doing?”

“Wondering where you think I’m going to touch you now.”

“Callum, this isn’t fair. You’re killing me.”

He was feeling a little death creeping up on him more and more, too. “Don’t worry about anything.”

He touched the feather to her cheek, and she jumped.

“Something soft,” he said. “Something harmless.”

“The feather I saw near the cords.”

“That’s right.”

Trailing it downward, he coasted it over her collarbone, between her breasts, and then he pulled it away.

She was trembling, sinking down in her seat, her back arched as she strained against the cords.

“Are there any men in your life now, Leigh?” he asked.

She blew out a breath. “Are you asking about my love life again?”

“Just idle talk.” And distance.

“Of course there aren’t.”

“Because you’re a free agent.”

“That’s right.”

“Why, though?” He could see her hips wiggling a bit, as if inviting him to put the feather on her again. “Any man would be lucky to have you.”

She gritted her jaw, and he knew she was probably thinking,
Then why’re you waiting?

He laughed, taking mercy on her, using the feather again, guiding it under a breast. She pressed toward it, whimpering slightly. And when he brushed it back and forth over her nipple, she parted her lips, churning her hips slightly.

That drew his attention to her spread legs, her glistening center just under the see-through creamy white material. She was open to him, her clit stiff and ready.

His erection beating with need, he lightly touched the feather to her pleasure spot.

“Damn you,” she murmured, pulling against her bindings.

“Should I stop?”

“Yes. No. Don’t stop.”

He wanted to ask her to reach back into her memories, to tell him if she remembered that one party where a boy with dark hair, gold eyes and broadening shoulders under a plaid shirt had longed for her. But the memory of those days, when he’d been a nobody, before Carla had come along and made him feel like a somebody, caused such weakness. And weakness wasn’t a part of his life anymore.

He bent down, untying the cords at her ankles with jerky motions, then effortlessly hooked her legs over his shoulders. A little cry came from her as he pulled her hips to his mouth, making her rock toward him as he connected with her.

Wet. Strawberry. Leigh.

Kissing her between the legs thoroughly, he slowly worked her, using his lips, his tongue. She squirmed under him, moaning, grinding against him.

He even thought he heard some cursing as he entered her with his tongue, in and out, sucking, then circling her clit.

As her voice got higher, his libido did, too, slicing upward with a vicious stroke of passion, darting sideways and back again, slashing desire through him until he had to hold back from bursting.

Another violent cut upward...another rip through his belly...up, up, up—

Just as he thought he couldn’t take any more, she let out a full-throated cry that seemed to echo through every corner of the room. His cock pushed against his jeans, and he knew that he needed satisfaction now or a release outside of this room, away from her.

“I want you inside me,” she said, her voice rough. “Now, Callum....”

He wanted it, too. Damn it, did he ever. But that hadn’t been in his plans. It couldn’t be.

He’d never forgive himself if he went that far, although with every beat of his pulse, he needed her and wanted to make her feel like the most desirable woman on earth.

Before he did something he would be sorry for, he grabbed the robe from the bed, laying it over her legs, then untied her wrists just before he left the room for the release his body was keening for. But as usual, he hadn’t had enough from Leigh.

Would he ever?

* * *

L
EIGH WAS JUST
coming down from her crackling high when she realized that her hands were untied and she was alone.

No sound in the room. No Callum. Or was she wrong?

“Callum?”

Nothing. She fumbled with her blindfold, pulling it down, her body still on fire.

“Callum?”

Still no answer. Really? Even after all that, he wasn’t going to stick around? She’d been almost sure that he was leading up to a huge “Hey, I’m the guy who just gave you the Big O” moment and would reveal himself this time.

But it was all part of the game. He’d given her a screaming orgasm yet hadn’t gotten off himself. Maybe he was saving that for tonight...?

She stood, losing her balance once again, but this time because of the ballet shoes. Nonetheless, she tossed the blindfold to the bed. Then, across the room, she noticed a full-length old-fashioned mirror, and she stopped moving when she got a gander at herself.

Was this actually her? The slim woman with the long blond braid, dressed in a naughty angel’s negligee and thigh-high stockings?

A flush roared up her body, bathing her face red, when she took in just how skimpy her outfit was. But...

She looked the way almost every female wanted to look—like a model out of a lingerie catalog. Everything society told her was attractive in a woman.

One of the cords was hanging from her wrist, and she glanced at it, then shook it off just as she was shaking off the thought about the lingerie models.

The house was too quiet, and belatedly, she recalled the raging cry she’d given out when she’d climaxed. Was
now
the time for some embarrassment?

No. She still couldn’t sink into it all the way. Why should she anyway, when this was what her body had been made for? She’d only started realizing it now, with Callum. And, God help her, she wondered what would happen tonight with him if this was just a warm-up.

Exhaling, she peeled off the slippers, stockings, then the negligee, giving all of them a wistful glance before leaving them on the bed. She got back into her regular clothes with almost a sense of regret.

To think—she regretted dressing instead of undressing with this guy. Her world was totally upside down.

After grabbing the phone he’d given her and looking both ways before entering the hallway, she decided that no one had been around to hear her give that banshee-sex yell earlier, and she went back to her room, shutting the door behind her.

She itched to call Margot or Dani but decided against it. Maybe for once in her life, she could enjoy her secrets, keeping them to herself since she’d never really had any before. But as she went to her window and looked at the afternoon sun, she wondered what she could do now to top the experience she’d just had. It was still hours before dinner.

Should she relax and watch the flat-screen TV in the room? Pick up the house phone and have someone prep the spa room for her, even if she wasn’t sure what was in that spa room? Wander around the house and snoop? Yeah, that’d be polite. Besides, she suspected that this house had no trace of Callum, so there wasn’t much use in going Sherlock on him.

How about the pool, though? Couldn’t she use a good turn in the hot tub?

Let Callum watch her strut out there in a bathing suit. That would get him pumped up for more....

Digging into her suitcase, she came out with a demurely flowered two-piece bikini and a purple cover-up with flip-flops. After fixing her hair into a loose bun, she grabbed a towel from the bathroom and stepped into the dim hallway again.

She guessed where the pool was based on its location relative to the “nookie room,” as she’d come to think of it—the room with a view and a whole lot of stories to tell after today. But just as she came to the wrought-iron pool gate, she paused, suddenly hit with a question.

The blindfold...Callum not wanting her to see him. Was it possible that he was scarred somehow and that was why he wasn’t showing himself?

She almost laughed that off. Melodramatic much?

But then a far more realistic question came on its heels: Was she the first woman Callum had played these games with?

Now, that made her feel...well, ridden hard and put away wet. He’d made her feel special on their dates, and to think that this might be his typical M.O. with all women was disheartening, to say the least.

When she got to the hot tub, she easily found the control panel, letting the water bubble to life, dipping her toe into it.

Her skin sang, reawakened by the heat, making her remember all too piercingly what Callum had just done to her.

Or not done.

No matter, she thought, taking off her cover-up and flip-flops. She’d just gotten to the ranch. He had to be saving the best for last.

As she recalled his hands on her, a wave of brave hedonism took her over, and she looked around. Nobody was here. But was Callum watching?

She thought of the bindings, the dress-up clothes, the feather and the blindfolds. He was into some real kink, that much was obvious. And she wanted some of that, too.

But she was outside, in front of God and country. Did she have the guts for some of her own kink?

Why not?

She stripped off her bathing suit top, tossing it carelessly aside. Then, with a purposeful look at the house, her gaze locking on what she thought was the nookie-room window, she stepped out of her bottoms.

Take that, Callum,
she thought, reveling in the feel of sun over her bare skin. She even got a little extra naughty and stretched her arms over her head. It was a beautiful, warm day, and she was feeling sexy. She was feeling watched...and liking it.

Then she entered the sunken tub. The water swirled around her feet, her calves, her thighs.... When it lapped at the middle of her legs, she bit her lip, staying there for a moment, imagining Callum.

His mouth, on her, nibbling, sucking....

With a tiny groan, she eased all the way in, breathing a satisfied sigh.

Only in southern California could she be in a hot tub in November, she thought. Only with Callum could she be so wicked.

A sense of loss pricked her at the notion of this being so temporary. She wished...

What? That she could always be with him?

That wasn’t their deal.

Just relax. Enjoy. Have the biggest adventure you’ll ever have right here and right now.

Leigh sat back and luxuriated in the water, listening to the tumble and flow of it.

She didn’t even know Callum was there until she felt what was becoming a familiar sensation by now—a blindfold sliding over her eyes.

“Shhh,” he said.

“Callum?” Duh.

He rested his hand on the sensitive area between her throat and shoulder, and she melted.

“It occurred to me,” he said in that voice, “that you might need some finishing to what we started. So I came down here to do just that.”

8

W
ITH THE WATER
fluttering at her skin and the blindfold over her eyes again, Leigh was caught in his net, drowning in his sensual suggestions, lost in the erotic darkness he brought her every time he blindfolded her.... However you said it, she was a goner.