Playing for Real: Paolo's Playhouse, Book 5 (8 page)

Stacey frowned. “Come on. They won’t hold our reservation if we’re late.”

Once they were seated, Julianne ordered her usual Chardonnay while Stacey said the Cabernet was better for her heart. Her friend gave her opinion on which items on the menu were good for her but Julianne didn’t let that affect her choices.
 

After the waitress took their order, Stacey leaned in. “So what did you hear about that place?”

Couldn’t she leave it alone? “What place?”
 

“You know. The Playhouse.”

Julianne hoped her shrug looked lazy and careless. “Just that it’s a place where people can safely act out a fantasy.”

“Kinky fantasies.”

Another shrug. “Probably.”

Stacey’s gaze bounced around the room. “Have you ever seen him?”

“Him?” Julianne refused to give in to the urge to look around.

“Paolo. From Paolo’s Playhouse? He was in here the other night when I was here with Marla. You remember her from spinning class? She pointed him out to me.”

Julianne took a deep drink of wine. “Really?”

“He’s sexy, if you like dark and intense.” Stacey lowered her voice more. “But I heard he beats women up there. He ties them up and hurts them. Can you believe it?”

Julianne’s head pounded. The boxes were going to spill into each other if she didn’t watch it. “Maybe they’re acting out a fantasy.”

“What kind of woman would fantasize about getting hit? I don’t know how it could even be legal.”

“It’s called consensual.” She held Stacey’s gaze. “That’s what I heard.”

“Oh. Okay.” Stacey leaned back, took a drink of her dark red wine. “Enough of that then. Tell me what gorgeous house you’re working on now.”

Finally it was Saturday night and she was getting ready for her casual dinner date with Paolo. Casual to him was probably a restaurant that didn’t require a tie. Julianne chose a deep blue sundress and flat silver sandals, then pulled her hair back into a low ponytail. Hopefully the look would work wherever he took her.

She tried not to dwell on the things Stacey had said. The way she’d judged Julianne without even knowing it. The rest of their dinner conversation had been stilted and she realized that there might have been more than their differing views on sex that had caused them to drift apart.

As soon as she buzzed Paolo in, her body went on high alert. Tingles of anticipation danced along her skin. During the last couple days, she’d told herself that she didn’t need to see him so often. That she didn’t need the hold he had over her. That she didn’t want to need so badly what he gave her.

But as she stood at the door of her apartment, waiting for him to appear, she knew she’d been lying to herself. She needed him. She wanted him. Maybe it was the bondage sex he gave her. The incredible orgasms. Maybe it was even the enticing dominance. Maybe it was the man himself. Whatever it was, she wanted more. She couldn’t deny it.

When she opened the door, she sucked in a quick breath. Had he ever looked more appealing? More sexy or commanding? Dark and intense. Stacey had nailed that.

“Julianne?”

She realized she still stood in the doorway. “Sorry. Come in.”

“Is everything all right?”

“I’ve never seen you in jeans before. You look good enough to eat.”

“I must admit that anything that puts your mouth on me gets my approval.”

She chuckled. “Should I change into jeans too?”

“You look lovely. What you are wearing will be fine. I wanted to prove to you that I did know the meaning of casual.”

“Yes, you do. Where are we going?”

There was that enigmatic smile. “You will see.” He reached for her hand. “Are you ready?”

Julianne nodded, picked up her sweater and purse off the arm of the sofa and locked the door behind them. Paolo led her to a bright red Jeep with its top down parked at the curb.

“Nice.”

“Casual enough for you?”

She laughed and let him help her in. “This is fun,” she said as they took off down the street. “Where are we going?”

“You will see,” he repeated.

She should know better. He wanted her to wonder. Or rather, he wanted her to let go and not worry about what he had planned, whether it was for their play dates or dinner dates. Julianne closed her eyes and enjoyed the fresh air. The breeze tore loose strands from her ponytail and they danced around her face.

“Busy week?” Paolo asked.

Julianne opened her eyes and looked over to him. “Yeah.”

“You look relaxed. Like you needed this.” His hand rested lazily on the steering wheel. He glanced her way and smiled.

“You look relaxed too. Maybe we both needed a little casual get away.”

“I think you may be right,” he said.

Once they left the city limits they took the exit for the park that ran along the river. Paolo parked in an end space and then helped her from the Jeep. He reached into the back seat and took out a plaid blanket and handed it to her. Then pulled out a wicker basket that the blanket had covered.

“A picnic?” Julianne grinned.

He grasped her hand and started down a paved path toward a copse of trees. “Casual enough for you?”

“Perfect.” She liked the way her hand felt in his, perfect too.

It was early enough that the air was still warm, a light breeze off the water lifting the ends of her hair. A few men and women ran, walked or bicycled along a path by the river. The one Paolo took led them away from the exercisers. They walked by several empty picnic tables, left the path and walked across the grass and through the trees to a small clearing barely large enough for the blanket Paolo spread out on the soft grass. Julianne looked around them. Tall evergreens with branches brushing the ground surrounded them on all sides.

“Sit.” Paolo joined her on the blanket and opened the basket. He pulled out a bottle of white wine and two glasses. After he’d poured and handed her a glass, he smiled and tapped the rim with his glass. “To relaxing together on this beautiful evening.”

She drank to his toast, but she wasn’t sure she could fully relax with Paolo. She could handle the play dates. She knew what to expect—at least she was starting to. She knew who they were when they were at the Playhouse. She was the sub and he was the Dom. The rituals, like showering before he picked her up, stripping and kneeling while he prepared for the scene, all those things helped reinforce their D/s relationship.

But who were they now?

“What are you thinking about,
cara
?” Paolo looked at her over the rim of his glass. “Something you would like to talk about?”

She didn’t want to admit she’d been a little uncomfortable with his mother and sister. She was still struggling to compartmentalize her life. “I’m not sure what to say when people ask if we’re dating.”

“Are we not dating? Is this not a date?”

“Yes, but we’re something different.”

“Are we? Do we know what any other couple does behind closed doors?” he asked softly. “Did you talk to your family and friends about your sexual exploits with other boyfriends?”

“No.” Not that she’d had any sexual exploits with any other guy to rival those she’d had with Paolo. “I still don’t know how to reconcile our desires with the rest of our lives.”

“Come here.” Paolo drew her onto his lap. Her legs straddled his hips, her wide skirt hiked up to her hips. He pulled her arms behind her back, wrapped one hand around her wrists. Her sex tingled with delight. “If we did not have our play dates, I would still dominate you. You would still let me. True?”

She licked her lips. Nodded.

“The things we do during our play dates are no one else’s business. What we do on a picnic in the woods is no one’s business either.”

She couldn’t help but think about what Stacey had said. “It’s not that simple.”

He tightened his grip on her wrists. “Why does it have to be complicated?”

Maybe it didn’t have to be. When she’d dated Bill and asked him to tie her up, she didn’t tell anyone before she screwed up the courage to make the request, or after when he turned her down in horror. At least now she found a man who was eager to indulge her desires. All she had to do was submit to his.

“So we’re boyfriend and girlfriend to anyone who asks?” But could she ever admit it to someone like Stacey?

“Of course.”

“When it’s just you and me…” Julianne took a deep breath, looked into his eyes, admitted what she’d begun to accept. “When it’s you and me, I get it.” Sitting on his lap, her wrists bound by his fingers, she could understand the way they could interact on dinner dates. “It’s when I think about the rest of the world that I get confused.”

“Do not think about them. Only think about us.” He yanked her closer, crushed his lips to hers. His passion drove hers higher. She squirmed on his lap, his erection hard against her sex. He nipped her bottom lip. “Do not squirm.”

“Sorry.”

“We eat before we indulge.”

“You mean I have to clean my plate before I can have dessert?”

Paolo laughed. “Exactly.” He released her wrists and eased her off his lap. She reached toward the basket and he stopped her. “Sit. Put your hands behind your back.”

“What?” she asked, even as she tucked her hands into the small of her back.

“I will feed you.”

Her hands dropped to her sides. “Oh, you don’t have to do that.”

“I will feed you,” he repeated, his tone lower, darker. “I can tie your wrists,
cara
, but I had hoped you could manage this simple command on your own.”

She slowly returned her hands behind her back. She hated it when he sounded disappointed in her.

“I know you can feed yourself,” he said as he took covered dishes out of the basket. “I want to do this. It is a simple way I can indulge my desire to take care of you. I realize you want to fight me whenever I say I want to do this.”

“I don’t mean to fight you,” she said softly. “I’m still trying to get used to this.”

“I know.”

As he uncovered the dishes, he revealed strips of cold chicken, diced cheese, green grapes. Neither of them spoke as he shared the meal with her. At first she felt a little foolish as she let him do something she was perfectly capable of doing. But as he slowly slipped the food between her lips, holding her gaze, smiling at her, stroking her hair, she began to feel cherished. Her body warmed, softened, relaxed.

Maybe there was something to this being-taken-care-of stuff.

By the time they finished eating, the sun was setting. Paolo returned the dishes to the basket. Julianne left her hands behind her back and watched him clean up. She knew he’d let her know if he wanted her to help. She didn’t mind watching him, appreciated his efficient motions, so calm and steady. After he closed and latched the cover, he turned to her.

“Julianne…” He knelt before her. “Don’t move your hands.” He cupped her face and kissed her as if he had never kissed her before. Soft. Sweet. She sighed, letting her breath whisper into his mouth.

She clasped her hands together so she wouldn’t reach out to him as she longed to. She parted her lips and let his tongue slip between them, stroking her lazily. He touched her with only his hands to her face and his mouth to hers, yet her entire body came alive. He didn’t like her squirming, so she did her best to sit still on the soft blanket, her legs bent to the side, her hands clasped behind her back. Nipples tingled, pussy throbbed.

He’d make her wait. Anticipate. She understood that now. He’d satisfy the need building within her, but it would be at his pace. In his own time.

And that was okay.

Tiny buttons ran down the front of her dress, and Paolo began to slip them from the buttonholes. She shifted, restless and aroused. He caught her gaze and smiled.

“Relax,
cara
. It is dark enough that no one can see what we do here.”

“Oh. I hadn’t even thought about that,” she said with a small laugh. “You’re turning me on so much it’s hard to sit still.”

“Then I am very pleased you have been able to stay still for me.” He slid the sundress straps off her shoulders and let the bodice drop. He placed a soft kiss on her shoulder.

Julianne licked her lips but didn’t say a word. What was there to say that wouldn’t be begging for him to touch her? To take her?

He swept his fingers along the sides of her breasts, strumming the flesh gently. “So smooth. So firm.” Her breasts seemed to swell beneath his hands. “And these nipples.” Paolo tweaked them with his fingers, then reached into the pocket of his jeans and pulled out a silver chain with small clamps on each end. She gasped. “You know you must be quiet. Although it is not easy for us to be seen, people on the other side of these trees will hear you if you cry out.”

“You brought nipple clamps here?” she whispered.

“Did you not tell me you wanted more? That you could handle it?”

“Yes,” she hissed.

“Keep your hands behind your back,” he told her yet again. “Take deep breaths.” He caught her gaze. “Not too loud.”