Follow Me Darkly (Follow Me 1)
“Oh!” Sensation jerks into my nipples and then outward, landing in my pussy.
“Don’t forget who you came with,” he says, his voice low and dark.
“I haven’t forgotten. I—”
He yanks the chain again, this time slightly harder. The intensity deepens, and I nearly lose my footing.
“Dinner is being served now. We’re going to go back to the table, eat, and then we’re leaving.”
“But it’s a ball. Aren’t we going to dance?”
“No,” he says. “We’re leaving after they thank me for my generous donation, which will happen right after dinner.”
“But—”
“No buts, Skye. You’ve already driven me out of my mind tonight. It’s time for me to return the favor.”
Chapter Fifty-Five
He takes my arm and escorts me back into the ballroom. The crowds have dispersed a bit as most people take their seats for dinner. Servers bring out plates covered in silver domes.
I’m following Braden, not looking where I’m going, when someone steps in front of us.
“Don’t you two look stunning?”
I know the voice. And the snark. I meet Addison’s gaze.
“Nice to see you,” Braden says shortly.
“And you, as always,” she says curtly and then tugs on my other arm and whispers in my ear, “Nipple clamps? Classic Braden.”
I warm in both embarrassment and anger. Did he use nipple clamps on Addie eleven years ago? Even if he did, should it matter?
Braden whisks me quickly to our table where we sit down. Servers place plates in front of us almost immediately.
“Don’t let her get to you,” Braden says to me.
I nod.
She already got to me, however. Nipple clamps. The little jewels that give me so much pleasure are now tainted. And how does she know? They’re not visible. Only my erect nipples are—I made sure of that in the mirror—and I’m not the only one here with erect nipples. Not by far. Plus, somehow she found out about my post with New England Adventures. I still haven’t received the countersigned contract from Tammy.
“Braden,” I say.
“Yeah?”
“She’s trying to ruin me.” I quickly explain about New England Adventures.
“I’ll take care of it,” he says.
“No! That’s not what I meant. I don’t want you to get involved. This is my problem.”
“All it’ll take is a quick call to your balloon place.”
“Please. No. That’s not why I told you.”
“Then why did you tell me?”
Because you’re my boyfriend. Because I need to talk to you about stuff in my life. Because if something is bothering me, it should matter to you. Because, because, because.
I don’t say any of this.
“Skye, when you tell me about a problem, I find a solution. It’s what I do.”
“I’m not asking for a solution. Please. I’ll handle this myself.”
“Are you sure?”
“Definitely sure. Let’s just have dinner.”
The salmon en croute with asparagus and walnut sauce tastes like sawdust. Even the bourbon Braden brings me doesn’t help my mood. Addie has ruined this night for me. Even the scads of likes and comments on both my posts today aren’t helping. I silence my phone so I don’t have to keep hearing the dings.
Dessert is served, and the emcee, some bigwig with the opera guild, takes center stage.
“Thank you all for being here tonight,” he says.
I recognize him. It’s George, the guy Braden introduced me to early in the evening.
“I’m happy to report that we’ve surpassed our expected donations for the evening thanks to our generous benefactor, who has doubled all our receipts. Please give a hand to Boston’s own Braden Black.”
Braden stands to thunderous applause. His demeanor is stoic, as usual. He takes the applause gracefully and sits down after several seconds when it begins to wane.
George continues speaking, and Braden turns to me.
“Time to go,” he says.
“Now? While he’s talking?”
“Yes. Now. Before I tear that dress off you right here.”
…
To my surprise, Christopher isn’t waiting for us. A limo is. A chauffeur I don’t recognize opens the door, and I step into the back while Braden follows. The interior is decorated in red and black leather. I inhale the earthy and slightly sweet fragrance.
“Where’s Christopher?” I ask when we’re secure in the limo.
“He has the night off.”
“Oh.”
“You didn’t really think I could wait until we got to my place to have you, did you?”
I gulp. “I…didn’t think about it.”
He moves toward me, softly brushes my straps off my shoulders, baring my breasts, and then gives the chain between them a good yank.
I cry out.
“That’s right. I’ve been thinking about those nipple clamps all night, Skye. Every time I looked at you. Every time someone else looked at you.”
“No one looked at me,” I say.
“Not blatantly, no. They wouldn’t dare. But they looked, baby, and every time they did, I thought about what I’d do to you tonight in this limo. What I, and no one else, would be doing to you.”
“What are you going to do?” I ask.
He yanks the chain again. “I’m going to drive you as wild as you’ve driven me all evening.” He crushes his mouth to mine.