Stare Me Down (Stare Down) (7 page)

“Now this one?” She held up the image and looked at it before she turned it so he could see it. “You said Batman kissing a mirror?”

“Yes.”

“I’m going to have to change my initial thoughts about this one now that I know your theory about masks.”

She was so adorable in her excitement. Her cheeks fused with heightened color, not a blush, but more a stain of pleasure. Those eyes though, they sparkled and shone with anticipation of sharing her thoughts and that had him aching to pull the pages out of her hands. To pluck her off that chair and drag her over the desk. He wanted so much to touch her. To get close to her that he had to work hard to give her a casual response. “Shoot.”

“If, as you say, a mask is used to shield who you really are, then I have to say you wear one to hide that person from the world.” She let go of the image and let it drop on her lap while she studied him. “You’re comfortable doing this because you’re fully aware of what you are hiding and why.”

His heart rate picked up speed, so to counter it he focused in on breathing nice and even as he straightened. “And you got all that from Batman?”

“Yes.”

Her curious eyes raked over him so thoroughly he feared he was going to crack and tell her how right she was. “Ridiculous.”

“No, think about it. Batman’s a superhero who successfully hides from the world. The mention of a mirror indicates that you’re comfortable looking at yourself, even if the reflection isn’t a true representation of who you are, but of how others see you.”

She was good. He had to be careful. “Psychobabble.”

When she smiled the space between them lit up all warm and golden like the dawn on a sunny day. “Well, here’s some more for you. From my perspective I see this being directly related to your ah, sexual preferences.”

He snorted and fell back in the chair. Wholly relieved that she was wrong in this instance at least. Really wrong.

“Hear me out.”

“Why? So you can tell me that I wear a mask to hide the sexual deviant I am from the world?”

“No. I didn’t say that. I…”

“You what?”

She seemed to brace herself. “I don’t think you’re as kinky as you think you are.”

He stared at her, stunned. “Get the fuck out of here.” He slapped his palm on the desk several times. “You’re crazy. No offense. But that’s right up there with little green aliens abducting cats and the gruesome ogre who lives under the bridge ransoming them back for his dinner. How the hell did you get this from that?” He jerked a thumb at the picture.

“There’s no shame in it,” she sniffed. “All kinds of people get caught up in things that snowball out of control. It’s quite common to remain living in a lie of your own making. Especially when people depend on you. Oftentimes this forces a person to perpetuate the lie to accommodate them.”

He scratched his head. “What does that mean? That I started my club when I thought I was kinky and it wasn’t until after I hired people and got my membership up that I realized I wasn’t?”

“Exactly. And now you’re responsible for people’s livelihoods as well as for providing a safe-haven for people of that…‌persuasion to explore their sexuality.”

“Wrong.”

“But—”

“Wrong. Next.”

She shook her head. “The last one was Fred Flintstone spitting into a pond.”

“I know, and I can hardly wait to hear this.”

“Your response tells me that you can laugh at yourself.”

He blinked. “That’s it?”

“Isn’t that enough for you?”

It wasn’t but before he could tell her so she shot forward.

“There was something I didn’t mention regarding my personal theory of masks.”

He plucked a pen out of the holder and beat it against the desktop not sure he was ready for this either.

“Protection.”

He stopped beating. “As in armor?”

“Yes. In ancient times, a protective mask helped to circumvent possible physical harm from one’s enemies. In these times? I think a protective mask helps circumvent possible emotional harm from society’s mores and unrealistic conventions.”

“Meaning?”

“Some masks are not only beneficial to the wearer, but to the people who depend upon that individual to wear them.”

“Are you talking about my kink again?”

She grinned and he had to hold himself back. He wanted to sink his fingers in her hair and see how silky those strands were. “No, in this case I’m talking about Batman.”

“The real Batman?”

“Absolutely. Think about it. If everyone in Gotham City knew Bruce Wayne was Batman, where would the fun, the mystique, the adventure be?” She leaned forward so her forearms were braced directly opposite his on the desk and whispered, “The reason to keep watching every week was to see if he was going to be unmasked.” Mimicking the announcer’s deep voice, she said, “Same bat time…‌same bat channel.”

It wasn’t until her words echoed to silence in the room that he noticed how close they were in proximity. How dark the cornflower blue color in her eyes had turned. How great she smelled and how badly he wanted to lean forward and taste her.

Jaxx felt the sexual pull. The erotic hum that gripped her as they stared at one another. The novelty of experiencing that kind of desire was shocking and before she could stop herself, her gaze dropped to his lips. He’d see her eyeing his mouth. She was sure of it. God, they were so close he’d probably hear how rapidly she breathed.

She didn’t look up, knowing, if she did, she might not be able to resist the temptation. “I, ah, better get the paperwork signed. You probably have something important to do after this.”

“Yes. Very important.”

She nodded and stood, awkwardly waiting for him to vacate her chair so she could see to the form.

She filled in the required boxes and put her signature on it. “There. Here you go.” She held it out, feeling more like herself now that their places were reversed and he was on the right side of her desk for a change. “It’s all done. Your life is now officially free of my psychobabble.”

He took the paper and examined it. “You’re no longer my therapist?”

“No, I’m not.”

He folded the form and put it in the wicker trunk. When he pulled out the hook, she frowned. “Then I sort of feel bad about keeping you.”

She eyed the hook and then shot a look up. “Keeping me?”

“Yeah, it’s my turn for show and tell, remember? I guess we’ll be doing it on regular civilian time. I don’t mind.” He winked at her. “In fact, this might make it more interesting.”

Interesting?
She gulped.

“Now,” he said as he dug through the trunk, “where did I put that tape?”

Chapter Five

“What do you need the tape for?” Her eyes widened and she shook her head. “I thought you were leaving?”

Aries ignored her, knowing if he hesitated for even a second, it would give her the time to think and he was doing enough of that for the both of them right now. And that meant he wasn’t going to leave. How could he when he had to learn the truth about her. Was she a fluke? She seemed like the perfect vanilla doll on the outside, but deep down, there was something that tempted him. Drew him. Taunted him in the rawest way possible. Why else was he getting all fox-up in her hen-house?

“You’re staying? Why?”

“Yes,” was all he said. He wasn’t prepared to explain that it was time he confirmed that his suspicions about her were all wrong. That it was just his imagination because someone like her could never actually be a part of the world he wanted to create with the right woman. She wasn’t the right woman. She couldn’t be.

In order to find out though, he needed her to go along with his spur-of-the moment plan, and not to be thinking. Because even though he’d gotten exactly what he wanted‌—‌his freedom and that certificate‌—‌he couldn’t let the matter go. The moment he’d chosen to stay, he knew he was going to finish this the way it needed to be finished between them.

“No, not like that.” He adjusted the hook in her hands until she had hold of the base with the curved part facing down. “Like this.” He didn’t give her a chance to escape as he held his hands over hers. “Great, now hold your arms out straight, just…‌a little higher. Good.”

“I don’t‌—‌wait—” she tried to pull away, “—you’re going to use the tape?”

He didn’t stop but quickly continued to wind it around her wrists and hands, over and over until the hook was firmly held into place and she was unable to get free of it. “Sure. I’m binding your hands around the hook.”

“I can see that. Ow. You’re cutting off my circulation.”

An actress. It was his lucky day. “No, I’m not.” He stopped and looked at her. Without saying another word, he waited for the telltale blush. When it appeared, he shook his head because for some stupid reason, he really liked it when she blushed. Her eyes got all glassy and sparkled like raindrops in the sun.

He bent and bit the tape, tearing it before he patted down the edges. “There. Now stand up.” He didn’t wait for her to comply. Instead he helped her and when she was right in front of him—

“Hey, those are my glasses. I need them.”

He twisted and tossed them beside the basket on the desk. “For what? Scaring children?” She opened her mouth, and he placed a finger over her lips. “And by children, I mean the male, six-foot-four kind. Are all the men you know frightened away so easily?”

Her glittering eyes narrowed, and he grinned.

“Fortunately it takes more than Woody Allan frames and a clipboard to run me off. But even if I were ready to bolt, I wouldn’t be going anywhere. Not until I get my turn. You promised.”

“You can’t be serious.”

He stepped toward her, and she automatically stepped back. Nearly falling into the chair, but he caught the hook and pulled her into him until her folded arms were the only things between them. Keeping a grip on her elbows, just in case she decided to use the hook as a weapon, he looked down.

“I’m very serious. Tell me, why isn’t there a man in your life?”

When her attempt to disengage failed, she readjusted and put as much distance between them as she could. Which really wasn’t much at all. “Not that it’s any of your business, but there is.”

He smiled. Every single time she attempted to lie to him, she blushed like a virgin in a whorehouse.

“I happen to know there isn’t and I want to know why.”

“I prefer women. The dildo, remember?”

It wasn’t the words that made him laugh, but the way she announced them. Confident, emphatic and steady, and yet her face turned the color of a bright red chili pepper. Scratch the virgin analogy. A nun in a whorehouse would fit better. Her blush-o-meter was coming in handy. It gave him one less facet of her he had to figure out. Though, why he wanted to figure out anything about her remained a mystery.

That sobered him. “You preferring women? Is as ridiculous a notion as I only used the duct tape to make geckos.”

She hissed in a breath and this time really struggled to break free of him. “I knew it. It is bondage tape.”

“Settle down.” He chuckled and gave her gentle shake. “The quicker you do this, the quicker we’ll be over with my show and tell.”

She stopped. “But there’s virtually no point to it. We’re done.”

“You think so? I don’t.”

She stomped on his foot.

“Hey, hey. Take it easy. By your own admission, I’m the saner one of the two of us.”

“But you cheated.”

“So?”

“This isn’t right.”

“You promised.” That second reminder got her attention, so he added more quietly, “It’s my turn. Let me show you.”

He grasped the hook and pulled it up until it was over her head and her arms bracketed her ears. He didn’t look at her as he knew she was glaring at him. Instead, he made short work of clipping the computer clamps on the front of her blouse.

She gasped. “How-how dare you?”

“Oh, relax, would you? They’re clipped to the material, not your skin. And you’re welcome, because I’ve tested these suckers on myself and they have a bite to them.”

“You-you—”

“I’m being careful with the silk. See?” He plucked on one of them that pinched the fabric right over a spiked nipple to show her. Ignoring her growl as he let go of it and felt around inside the trunk for the clothes pegs. When he found them, he immediately lined three to pinch the material across the front of her skirt at lap level.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing? You can’t to do this. I’m a doctor.”

“I can. I’m a doctor too.”

“You are not.”

“’Fraid so. Honorary degree from Dr. X’s school for nymphomaniacs.”

“You made that up.”

“Unfortunately I did not. It’s accredited. The director is a member of my club.”

“Let go.”

“Why? You wanted me to show you how I cheated, right?” He had the roll of tape around his wrist like a bracelet and shifted to stuff the electric toothbrush in one back pocket and the dowel in the other before he eyed her. “That’s what I’m doing.”

“Let. Me. Go!” She attempted to yank her arms down.

“I wouldn’t pull like that if I were you. You might herniate a disc or something.”

“Ooh!”

“Jaxx.”

“It’s Doctor Gavin.”

“Given the circumstances, it should be honey.”

“Honey? Have you lost your mind?”

Chuckling, he tweaked her nose. “No, honey, have you?”

When she stilled and stared up at him the chuckle died in his throat. Her bright eyes, pink cheeks and glistening lips were a helluva temptation, but he fought it off. Kissing her wasn’t part of the plan. Fuck, he didn’t even have a plan. He was just working on instinct. A dangerous thing to do, but he couldn’t help it. Between the delicate beauty that she tried to camouflage, the battle of wits that crackled to life between them every time they spoke and his dream, he needed to test the waters with her. See for himself what the hell was happening here. If he was right about her. If… Shit. Although he’d tried to deny it, ignore it, he’d been hotter in her company during these last two hours than he’d been during an intense Scene a few months ago, when he’d had a trio of willing women working in unison to satisfy his every need.