Jeff portrayed. Such a mystery he was.
“Thanks. I had it built a few years ago.” There was a touch of pride in his voice. “I wanted something different, but homey and comfortable.”
“You found it.”
“Come on into the kitchen with me. I was just getting ready to pull the fish out of the oven.”
He led her to the kitchen, and as they drew near, the mouth-watering smell of citrus and teriyaki greeted her. “Something smells good.”
“It’s a marinade my grandma taught me. Really easy.”
“I’ll take your word for it. I don’t cook.”
But she certainly enjoyed watching him in the kitchen. The way his shirt stretched over his muscles, the power in his thighs when he knelt down to find a pan in a low cabinet.
He stood up and faced her once he’d taken the fish out. “Do you have a safety call?”
“No.” Her heart started pounding. He wouldn’t have asked if he didn’t have something planned after dinner, would he? “I trust you.”
“Thank you,” he said, then turned his attention back to getting everything ready for dinner.
He didn’t bring up anything remotely connected to play while they ate. Instead they chatted about simpler matters. He asked what her favorite movie was and when she said Gone With the Wind, they debated whether the book or the movie was better.
“I’m so glad you see things my way,” Dena joked. “I’m not sure I’ve ever seen a movie I thought was better than the book.” She took her last bite of fish and smiled.
He didn’t reply, and silence fell across the table. Her heart started to beat in her throat as she met his piercing stare, and all thoughts of movies and books fled her mind. All that remained was Jeff.
“You have a decision to make,” he finally said. “We can go outside and walk and then maybe watch a movie, or we can pick up where we left off at the party. The decision’s yours alone, but you should know that if you pick the latter, it’ll be more than my fingers fucking you.”
Finally, he was going to give her what she wanted. He sat across the table from her, leaning back casually in his chair, his fingers playing with his wineglass as he waited for her answer.
“Will you show me where your bathroom is, Sir?” she asked.
A momentary look of confusion crossed his face, but he nodded and pushed back from the table. He led her down a short hallway, past what looked to be a makeshift playroom and, across from that, a bedroom. The bathroom was at the far end of the hall.
“I’ll be in the kitchen cleaning up,” he said.
Once inside, she closed the door and looked at herself in the mirror. She checked her makeup and finger combed her hair. Then she slowly undressed completely, placing her discarded clothing in a neat pile on the countertop.
When she stepped out of the bathroom, she made her way directly to the kitchen. Jeff stood at the sink with his back to her. Moving as quietly as she could, she went to the middle of the room, knelt down, and dropped her gaze to the wooden floor.
In her mind, she tried to picture what Jeff was doing by listening as he finished up the dishes. The water was running, so he was rinsing them. Then that turned off and the soft clinking indicated he was probably putting them in a drying rack.
He’s turned around now, she thought, and held her breath.
“Dena,” he whispered in a low, rough voice.
“I picked the second option, Sir.”
He walked three steps forward, and his feet came into view. “Look at me.”
She lifted her head and met his dark eyes. They were veiled, and she couldn’t make out what he was thinking. The urge to jump to her feet threatened to overwhelm her, but she forced her body to remain still.
“You’re sure this is what you want?” he asked.
“Yes, Sir.”
“Just to be clear, for the rest of our time together tonight, until I say otherwise, your body is mine.” His voice still had the gravelly undertone to it.
“Yes, Sir. That’s what I want.”
He nodded once. “I’ll meet you in the bedroom in five minutes. Second door on the left. On your back in the middle of the bed.”
So he wasn’t taking her to the playroom. She rose to her feet silently. He hadn’t given her permission to speak, and until he did or asked her a direct question, she would remain quiet. Without a word, she walked to the bedroom, conscious the entire time of the heat of his eyes as he watched her go.
He entered the room only seconds after she got into position in the middle of the bed. Though he knew she was naked, he still had all his clothes on.
He climbed onto the bed to her left, his eyes sweeping over her body in an appreciative manner. Ever so slowly his lips curved into a sultry smile. “Damn, you’re beautiful. Makes me so hard seeing you on my bed like this. Offering your body to me, knowing I’ll make it good for you.”
It was a promise he gave her. A promise of pleasure. Her belly tightened just thinking about it.
“What’s your safe word, Dena?”
Her mouth was dry when she answered. “Red, Sir.”
“I want to be inside you too badly to do anything too intense, but use your safe word if you feel the need.”
She nodded. Fuck, yes. She wanted him inside her, too.
“Lift your hands above your head and hold on to the bars on the headboard.”
Her hands slipped up and wrapped around the vertical bars on the wooden headboard. The position lifted her chest to him.
“Fucking gorgeous,” he said, leaning over her. With one hand, he cupped her face and then brushed his lips against hers. “Keep your hands there and I’ll fuck you and let you come. Move them once and all you get is my release on your belly.”
She gulped. He meant every word. Her grip on the bars tightened.
He trailed kisses down her body, his hands following behind. Though he wasn’t rough, he wasn’t gentle either. And just like she’d thought months ago, he could do wonderful things with his mouth. Within a matter of seconds, need, desire, and lust pounded throughout her body, and she lifted her hips, craving his touch there.
“Not yet,” he said, thumbs flicking her nipples and giving them the occasional pinch.
She moaned, but dropped her butt back onto the bed.
“Know what I’m doing?” he asked.
“Yes, Sir. You’re trying to drive me fucking insane with the need to have you inside me.”
He laughed, obviously not expecting her answer. “Yes, well, other than that.”
“No. That’s all I have.”
A fingertip ran down her arm, swirling in the crook of her elbow and then traveling down to sweep across her wrist. “I’m learning your body because one night with you isn’t going to be enough. I want to know all I can about you. What places are ticklish? Where do you like it rough? And where can I touch you that will drive you fucking insane with the need to have me inside you?”
His repetition of her words made her whimper. Now, she wanted to say. Take me now.
But he was thorough in his exploration of her body and took his time. He caressed her all over and kissed most of her body. Between his fingers, his mouth, and his tongue, she was a quivering ball of unrequited lust by the time he shifted off her and started removing his clothes.
“What did I tell you in the kitchen would happen if you went with option two?” he asked, slipping out of his shirt and tossing it to the floor.
“That you would fuck me with more than your fingers.”