“I’ll be the one to tell him, Angeline. You shouldn’t have to do that.”
“Why? You weren’t the one to go out on him,” she said flatly as she hung a pear on a branch.
He reached for her elbow and pulled her into his arms. He felt her shiver when he pressed his lips to her fragrant neck. “Things were never that serious between you two. You’ve got nothing to feel guilty about,” he muttered gruffly while he delved his fingers into her thick, soft hair and removed the clip that secured it on her head. “I know what you’re thinking, Angel.”
“What?” she whispered as he smoothed her long hair around her shoulders, appreciating the sensation of the silky strands running through his fingers.
“You’re wondering if you sacrificed a highly respectable relationship with my dad in order to have a hot fling with his not-so-reputable son.”
“That’s not true,” she said irritably, but he noticed the way she averted her face.
“I agree. It’s not. Not the fling part, anyway. That’s not how I’m looking at it. The point is, you are.”
She lifted her chin and studied him soberly. He held her stare, trying to make it clear he had nothing to hide from her.
“What is it, Angel?” he asked quietly, sensing her unrest…intuiting an unasked question in her eyes. What was making her so damn anxious?
“The…way you make love to me…”
“Yeah?”
“You’re not doing that to prove some point?”
“What do you mean?” he asked, growing wary.
She bit her lower bee-stung lip. “Alex…I’m not saying you’re doing anything purposefully or…consciously. No, listen,” she said quickly when she saw his suspicious look. “You don’t have to be a worshiper of Freud to believe in unconscious motivations.”
“So, what? I unconsciously want to tie down a woman before I make love to her because…let me guess, I carry some deep, dark hatred of women? That’s crap. I love women. Haven’t you been listening to what I said about my mom and grandma?”
“No! I don’t think you’re a misogynist. You’re missing the point completely, Alex.” She glared at him. “And on purpose, I think.”
“So why don’t you tell me exactly what the problem is, counselor.”
She flashed him an annoyed look, but he still sensed her uncertainty beneath her pique. “Well…it’d make a hell of a point that you stole your father’s girlfriend when you’re so angry with him. Wouldn’t it make even more of one to do in such an—inflammatory fashion?”
“Inflammatory?” he asked slowly. His brows knitted in confusion. Then he saw her blush and all the pieces started to fall into place. He leaned down toward her and spoke softly. “Angeline…you don’t think I spanked you because I wanted to humiliate you for falling for my dad, do you? Or that I restrained you down in the workout room to show how much power I have over my father?”
He saw the column of her throat convulse as she swallowed. “Well…I wouldn’t say I believe it, necessarily, but I did wonder…”
She faded off when she saw him shaking his head grimly.
“I’m not a die-hard dominant, Angeline, but I do like to take control of a woman’s pleasure in bed. I’m not into pain or humiliation. The thought of purposefully hurting anyone—especially you—makes me sick. But did I like spanking your ass—yeah. Did I like restraining you so you couldn’t run from your pleasure even for a second…so that you had to submit to your desire—hell yeah. That’s just how I’m built. I’m not going to apologize for it. It’s got nothing to do with my conflict with my dad. I don’t know why I’m that way, any more than I know why you’re that way.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means that you get turned on being restrained. You got so wet and hot after I spanked you last night that I thought I was living out a fantasy.”
She closed her eyes and her cheeks deepened in color. Alex couldn’t tell if her reaction was from embarrassment or arousal, but he suspected both.
The cheerful chorus from “Let it Snow” played in the background as he tenderly kissed her nose. “You’ve never liked it? Being restrained before?” he asked gruffly. He was relieved when she shook her head. He hadn’t been so sure he wanted to hear it if she replied to the affirmative.
He brushed his lips over her silky, warm cheeks. “You’ve got nothing to be ashamed of, Angel. The way you respond to me is beautiful.”
She opened her eyes and gazed up at him, the mixture of uncertainty and trust in her big, dark eyes making his cock throb pleasantly.
“Come on. Let’s finish the tree or Christmas may never get here,” he said with an encouraging smile.
Chapter Eleven