After dinner, she made a spur-of-the-moment decision to work out of the office the next day and to check in at the bed-and-breakfast near the Hamptons she often visited when she wanted to get out of New York City. Traffic had been horrible, though, and it took her almost double the amount of time it normally did to arrive.
She typed out a response to The Taskmaster’s last e-mail as quickly as she could.
The next club is in Wilmington, Delaware. Timelines have been pushed back. No opening date at the moment.
She didn’t acknowledge his Taskmaster nickname or include her own. She looked back up at the time: eleven thirty-six. Close, but she’d made it.
The reply came back almost instantly.
Cutting it awfully close, aren’t you?
Anger pounded in her veins.
You said by midnight. I obeyed.
He didn’t reply and that made her restless. There was only one person who could keep her mind off The Taskmaster and that was Luke. She sat back in the chair and closed her eyes. Remembering.
Chapter Two
Fifteen years ago
He asked her out to dinner not long after taking the last photo. In fact, he came up behind her as she was taking off her makeup, their eyes locked in the mirror, and simply said, “Will you have dinner with me?” And just like that, with those six words, he started her down a road that would forever color how she looked at the world.
Hours before he was to pick her up, she made a mess in her bedroom. She emptied her closet, not liking anything she saw. The outfit had to be perfect. He was a photographer, for crying out loud. He looked at beautiful women every day.
The pile of discarded clothing on top of her bed climbed to ridiculous heights, matching the panic that grew within her with each passing second. The date was going to be disastrous. Seriously, she couldn’t even find something to wear. He’d show up and she’d be naked. Wouldn’t that be the perfect way to start the date?
She posed the question to her roommate, Tessa, who only smiled and nodded and said, yes, it sounded like the perfect date to her. Meagan threw a sweater at her. Tessa finally grabbed her arm and dragged her down the hall to her room.
“I’ve been saving this outfit for a special date.” Tessa opened her closet. “But since Lloyd and I broke up, it won’t be happening anytime soon, so I want you to wear it tonight. For your photographer.”
Meagan didn’t know Tessa had such a beautiful dress in her closet. Most of her clothes were grunge, but the dress she held out was a classically elegant black sheath.
Meagan ran a finger over the V neckline. “Are you sure? I mean, I’d love to. But if it’s that special . . .”
“No, it’s not. Please. It’s more suited for you anyway.”
She didn’t want to let on how much she’d like to wear the dress. “If you’re sure.”
Tessa smiled. “Positive. There’s only one condition.”
“What’s that?”
“You have to let him take it off,” she said with a devious twinkle in her eye.
Like that would happen, Meagan wanted to say, but instead nodded. “Sure thing.”
Tessa pushed the dress at her. “Go. Change. Be fabulous.”
Her roommate’s advice repeated in her head hours later as she stood in Luke’s apartment. He’d taken her to an upscale steak house in the city and when they finished their entrees, he oh so smoothly asked if she’d like to go back to his place. “For dessert.”
“Depends on what you’re planning to serve,” she replied with a slight smile and a tilt of her head. In that moment she was on top of the world and she felt as if she was invincible. She was a goddess and had the world in the palm of her hand. In the last week, she’d had her first photo shoot for the cover of a magazine, she’d been asked out by Luke DeVaan, the up-and-coming photographer everyone was talking about, and he’d just asked her to his place.
This, she decided, was living.
But when he looked her square in the eyes and answered with “You,” she realized she had no idea what living was.
It was as if she had been born that night. Or something inside her was born. Sure, she’d had sex before. But it’d been with guys, boys, really, who were all fumbling fingers. Too eager to get off to even bother seeing if she was satisfied. Much less to try to find out what she liked.
Luke, though, was no boy. And, in all honesty, guy didn’t fit him either. No, Luke was one hundred percent man. The first time he took her slow and easy. He was so intent, it almost seemed as if he wasn’t concerned with his need. Every question he asked, every touch of his hand, was about her. Did she like it when he stroked her here? Was this area sensitive?
At times she felt as if he was a student and his final exam was her. She learned things about her body she didn’t know. Especially after they recovered from that first time.
They spent the entire weekend in bed. And Luke called in and canceled his meetings on Monday.
He got up from the bed after making the call, gloriously naked and not embarrassed at all. It was somehow soothing, the ease and comfort he found in being naked. She wondered if it had to do with his being a photographer. Whatever it was, it made her feel confident, too. When he got up from the bed, she sat up, not even caring she was naked. She didn’t even attempt to cover her breasts. If Luke could do it, she could, too.
Odd. Before, with anyone else, she felt all sorts of uncomfortable at being naked after sex. There were times she couldn’t get her clothes on fast enough. And her partners hadn’t been any better.
Yes, she decided. She could get used to a man like Luke.
She’d assumed he was going to the bathroom, and when he went out the bedroom door instead, she decided he must have needed a glass of water or something. She almost called out to him to bring her a glass, but before she could, he was walking back into the bedroom with something in his hand.
He held it out and her heart jumped up in her throat. Rope. “I’d like to try something,” he said. “You don’t have to. I won’t push it or anything. But if you’re open to a little bit of experimenting, I think you’ll really like it.”
He’d been right, of course. At first, she wasn’t sure she wanted to be tied up. The sex had been incredible by itself and she’d always been one to believe that if it wasn’t broken, there was no reason to fix it. More times than not, if you messed with something needlessly, it only created havoc.
But with Luke, the rope became an extension of him. He was so knowledgeable and, though it didn’t seem possible, his focus grew even more intense. As he worked the rope around her body, she didn’t feel restricted at all. She felt secure and safe. She fell into what seemed like a trance while he worked. He moved hypnotically with the rope, binding her for his pleasure.
He told her not to move and she didn’t dare disobey. She feared if she did, he’d stop and she didn’t think she could stand that. When he finally stepped away and held up a mirror so she could see herself, she nearly hummed in pleasure.
She looked sexy and grown-up. What’s more, she felt sexy and grown-up. Like a woman. The rope wrapped around her upper body, twisted around her breasts, leaving her nipples exposed, and then went behind her back like a halter top.
“Beautiful, isn’t it?” he asked.
She nodded and brushed her fingers over the soft coils. “I never knew you could use rope for something like this.”
“I’m just learning,” he said.
“People teach this kind of stuff?”
He gave a little laugh and she felt a bit silly, not at all like the sophisticated woman she’d told herself she was. Of course people taught this sort of thing. You had to learn somehow.
“Yes,” he said in confirmation of what she’d already decided. “I’m a member of a club and they have special classes teaching things like this.” His smile grew wider. “According to them, since I just tied you up, you should be calling me ‘Sir.’”
She wrinkled her nose at the thought of that.
/> “What’s that look for?” he asked.
“Call you ‘Sir’? Really?” She shook her head. “Never. It reminds me of my dad and that kills my mood.”
“Mmm, I see.” He didn’t seem to have thought of it in quite that way before. “Look at it like this. It turns me on when you call me Sir.”
“It does?” She thought about it some more. “It doesn’t make you feel like you’re my dad?”
“In no way does it make me feel like I’m your dad.” He moved a bit closer, that smile of his hinting at wickedness. “Maybe more like that hot teacher you had a crush on in high school.”