Mia obeyed. In darkness, she floated, even as she lay on the hard, substantial surface of the desk. She caught the faint whiff of lemon furniture polish. He’d placed her lengthwise on the desk, her ass perched on the end. When another rush of breath coasted between her legs, Mia gripped the edges of the desk to anchor herself. A moment later she felt something warm and wet brush the tip of her needy clit.
She hissed an indrawn breath and bit her lip as the delightful torture began. She didn’t even care how she must look, with her skirt bunched around her waist and her legs over Chess’s shoulders. She could do nothing but concentrate on the incredible sensations.
His supple tongue teased and played with her. He laved her pussy lips with long strokes and trailed moist kisses up and down her inner thighs, even giving a sharp nip there that made her squeak. But he enjoyed torturing her, because even as Mia’s heels drummed his back, Chess paid only the briefest attention to her poor, aching clit.
She moaned aloud as she felt him withdraw. He curved his arm around her thigh and rested his hand on her belly. He traced random curlicues on her skin as he spoke. “And that’s why you ignored your own needs for so long? Because you were so busy taking care of everyone else?”
“I didn’t ignore them—”
“No lies, Mia.” His voice was stern. He drew his finger down the center of her belly and lower. A trail of flame sizzled through her, following his touch across the button of her clit and between her sex lips down to her perineum. She tensed her thighs to keep him there, but he gently removed his hand, sweeping it along her thigh.
“You knew you needed to submit, to let someone else take control. But it frightened you, that need. You were afraid it meant you were weak. And you needed to be strong. Everyone depended on your strength.”
Mia rolled her head back and forth on the hard wood, trying to deny it even as tears stung her eyes. The feel of his hair brushing her thigh made her pelvis tilt and her pussy contract.
“But you didn’t understand. When you choose to submit, when you share that need, you’re strong.” His tongue circled her clit, tickled it. She tried to lift herself toward him as heat bloomed in her face and belly, arrowing straight to her clit.
Suddenly he thrust his tongue into her pussy, and she clamped her legs around him like a vise. Her upper body curled, and she grabbed Chess by the hair, holding him hard between her legs as the convulsions slammed into her like a tidal wave.
She loosened her fingers as the waves subsided, and sank back against the solid wood, her arms limp at her sides. All she could do was moan and laugh helplessly as he blew another stream of air between her legs. Her pussy rippled gently in response, still interested even if the rest of her was completely wiped out.
She could have fallen asleep then and there, in spite of her hard bed and undignified position. But Chess already adjusting her skirt and helping her sit up. He touched the tie knotted around her eyes. “I’m taking it off now.”
She nodded. “Yes.”
When he removed the blindfold and as her eyes adjusted to the light, he whispered in her ear. The warmth of his breath felt as intimate as a kiss. “You
are
strong, Mia. Never forget that.”
He sat on the chair while she rested on his lap, just as she’d done their first night together at Restraint. She rested her head on his shoulder while he smoothed his palm up and down her back. At last he spoke. “Tell me more about your family.”
She flushed, remembering everything she’d told him during her
interrogation
. “There’s not much more to tell.”
“You said your mother’s still working?”
“Oh yes. She’s still a nurse, still working crazy hours. I think she’s happiest doing that. And happy that all her kids are out of the house now. You know that my little brother Joey’s a freshman in college. My two sisters are married.”
“So you’re the only girl who’s not spoken for.”
Mia smiled but said nothing.
“I’m sure that’s by your own choice, Mia.”
She glanced at him, surprised by his words. “Why do you say that?”
“Because any man would be proud to have you.”
Her heart fluttered, and she had to look away.
Would you?
The question danced on the tip of her tongue, but she swallowed it.
But he had to care for her. The way he held her, the gentleness in his voice. His curiosity about her family and past. All of that told her his feelings were real.
“You okay to get up?” His voice was quiet. And even though Mia answered yes, all she really wanted was to stay on his lap. To feel his arms around her and to loll against his shoulder.
He gently eased her off his lap, and they both stood.
Their earlier play had caused Chess’s hat and suit coat to fall off the desk. When he picked them up, his overstuffed wallet slipped from the jacket pocket and landed on the floor. Items scattered. Mia helped pick up loose coins and scraps of paper, which Chess jammed haphazardly into his pocket. But the last item she found made Mia suck in a breath. A photo of a beautiful blonde.
Her tongue turned to stone as Chess plucked the picture from her numb fingers. She looked at him but received no explanation. He gave her nothing but a blank stare.
“Let’s go downstairs,” he said.
He held her around her waist as they descended, but Mia couldn’t feel his embrace. Nor could she feel her legs as they carried her down the stairs.
Mia knew Chess had plenty of play partners and doubtless many sexual partners as well. But a man didn’t keep photos in his wallet of his fuck buddies and one-night stands. Questions lumbered through her mind like a woolly mammoth lost in an ice storm. Who was the blonde? Could Chess be involved with another woman?
Just because he spent time with her didn’t mean he had no serious relationships. Some couples in the scene were monogamous, yes, but others weren’t. BDSM had its share of open and polyamorous relationships. Mia didn’t care what other people did. But she didn’t want to be anyone’s third—or fourth or fifth—even if the woman in the photo, whoever she might be, was fine with him having other partners.
Mia suddenly remembered how much she didn’t know about Chess. Yes, they’d shared some details of their lives, but he still held part of himself remote.
Once downstairs, she allowed him to guide her to the bar. Venetia was still there. It was quiet, as the club wouldn’t open for another hour or so.
He took a stool. “You open for business, barkeep?
Venetia winked. “For you, anytime. What’ll it be?”
“Two cranberries, please.” He glanced at Mia and patted the stool next to his. “Sit down.”
She balked. “I should go.” She felt like an idiot and only wanted to get away, run home, and lick her wounds. For God’s sake, why had she never thought to ask about his other relationships?
Mia, get over yourself. Just because you’ve fallen head over heels for the man doesn’t mean he returns the favor. He doesn’t owe you a thing.
Except the truth. And if he had another woman and never told her, wasn’t that a lie of omission?
His voice was hard. “It’s not a request. Sit.”
It would be more embarrassing to make a fuss. Mia sat. Chess took the contents of his suit-coat pocket and set them on the bar along with his wallet. He browsed through them, pushing the coins to one side and crumpling a few old receipts. “I had no idea some of this stuff was still here.”
“That reminds me, I should clean out my purse,” Venetia said as she poured the juice. “I can’t believe the amount of junk I accumulate. And how heavy it gets to carry around.”
Mia, too preoccupied with questions about the beautiful blonde, barely heard their conversation. In the photo the woman’s head was tilted back, her hair billowing behind her like a model in a shampoo advertisement. Her eyes were as blue as hyacinths and her teeth so white and perfect she could be advertising color contact lenses and toothpaste as well.
Mia stopped breathing when Chess moved the photograph squarely in front of her. “Venetia, could you give us some privacy, please?”
“No problem. There’re some things in back I need to check on.” Mia realized how defeated she must have looked when Venetia gave her a
buck up, girl
nod of encouragement before disappearing into the back room.
Chess gazed at the photo for a moment and glanced at Mia, who quickly looked away. “This is my ex-wife. Jennifer.”
Mia sagged with relief. His
ex
-wife. But almost immediately, a question niggled at her. If they were divorced, why did he still carry this Jennifer’s picture? Did Chess still have feelings for her? Was he in love with her?
“Funny. I didn’t know I still had this. We were married four years.” He expressed no regret or pain as he told her this. Mia felt another surge of relief. He didn’t sound like a man still carrying a torch for his ex.
“She’s lovely,” Mia said, stating the obvious.
“Yes, she was. She is. That was one of the reasons I married her.”
Mia blinked. What a strange thing to say. A man might admit being attracted to a woman for her beauty, but to flat-out admit it was the reason he married her was perhaps a bit too honest. Or too shallow.
“You think that’s superficial,” Chess said. He smiled at her. “You’re right. I married Jennifer for her looks and her charm. She was the perfect trophy wife. An expensive, showy accoutrement to my lifestyle, just like the expensive car and the designer clothes. When she was on my arm, every man who crossed our path was as jealous as hell. And I loved it.”
Mia hesitated, then asked, “Did she love it too?”
“Don’t feel sorry for her. She knew what it was all about, and she was completely on board. If I married her for her beauty, Jennifer married me for my money and the luxuries I could provide. Neither of us had any illusions.”
Mia had no idea what to say next. Though relieved that he was free, she was distressed by the description of his marriage. It just seemed so cold. How sad that Chess had so blithely embraced a loveless marriage.
“Why the frown, Mia?” He touched his forefinger to her brow, smoothing out the creases there.
“Didn’t you want to be in love?”
“I’m not sure I believe in love, except as a merchandising ploy for selling cards, candy, and flowers.”
Disappointment jabbed Mia in the ribs.
“We were a perfect match, Jennifer and I, without any of those romantic illusions.”
It couldn’t have been
too
perfect, or they’d still be together. “But…you divorced.”
“Yes, well…” His lips curved into a rueful smile. “She found someone who could provide an even more luxurious life.”
Ouch. That must have stung, never mind Chess’s attempt to sound indifferent. “I’m sorry.” She hated to think of him being hurt.
He merely shrugged. “She’s a very smart woman, Jennifer. She traded up. Can’t blame her for that.”
Mia had only one more question. “Do you have children?”
He shook his head briefly. “No. Kids were never part of the bargain.”
SOME PEOPLE WOULD think it selfish, not wanting children. But it would have been selfish bringing kids into the kind of marriage he and Jennifer had. Though their union had been entirely shallow and self-centered, at least they’d been wise enough to spare innocent children the pain of divorce.
Chess had to smile at Mia’s sad and puzzled expression. Sweet girl. So concerned about him. But he wasn’t fishing for sympathy. He’d accepted that Jennifer had moved on, and in truth, he didn’t blame her. She’d married him thinking he would provide the upscale lifestyle he’d promised, and when his fortunes went south, he could no longer keep that promise. He couldn’t keep his side of the bargain, so there was no reason for her to hold up hers. No, Jennifer was smart to find someone new while she still had youth and beauty enough to close the deal. Chess had no hard feelings.
It hadn’t been hard saying good-bye to Jennifer. And though he’d meant to say good-bye to Mia tonight, to send her on her way with a beautiful memory, he now selfishly changed his mind. As he looked into her lovely, compassionate face, he knew he had to hold on to her a bit longer. Even if only for a few more days. Mia was thoughtful and giving and real—everything Jennifer wasn’t. And he just couldn’t let her go.
Losing his wife had only hurt his pride. Losing Mia would hurt him in a much deeper place.
Mia gazed down at the infant in her friend’s arms. “He’s adorable, Ronni.”
Ronni shifted in the hospital bed and smiled at her baby with love in her eyes. “Yeah, he is.” She tickled his chin with the tip of her finger, and the two women chuckled as the tiny little boy screwed up his mouth. “He looks like his daddy. Got his daddy’s grumpy disposition too.”
Mia found a place on the windowsill of Ronni’s hospital room to set the flowers and blue teddy bear she brought. She’d just come from work. “Guess those cravings of yours didn’t signal a girl after all.”
“Guess not.”
“That’s all right. When this little guy is weaned, you can start working on number five,” Mia joked.
Ronni’s eyes narrowed. “No way. This is my last ride on the baby-go-round.” She made a scissoring motion with two fingers of her free hand. “After this, snip snip.”
“You’re getting your tubes tied?”
“Me? Oh no. Hal’s getting a vasectomy. It’s a much simpler procedure.”
“And Hal’s fine with that?”
“He will be,” Ronni said, her tone ominous. “If he ever wants access to my stuff again.”
Whereupon the man in question turned up, with a huge smile on his face and a humongous helium balloon that proclaimed IT’S A BOY! Mia spent a few more minutes with both parents, then left them cooing over the newest addition to their family. Ronni might have been hoping for a girl, but Mia knew her friend was more than thrilled with her healthy, grumpy baby boy.
She worked her way through the maze of halls to the elevator and pushed the Down arrow. The elevator dinged as it reached her floor, and the doors opened. Stepping back as several people got off, Mia smiled blandly at a young man standing behind a wheelchair and nodded to the elderly man in the chair. Her face went stiff as recognition kicked in and ice crackled through her veins. The young man pressed the button to hold the door open. “Going down?”