As predicted—sensible, Miss Steele.
“Do you think that would stop me?” My voice is husky.
She swallows. “I hope so.”
Put the girl out of her misery, Grey.
“Come, I have a private dining room booked. No public.” Rising, I hold out my hand to her.
Will she take it?
She looks from my face to my hand.
“Bring your wine,” I order. And she picks up her glass and places her hand in mine.
As we leave the bar, I notice admiring glances from other guests, and in the case of one handsome, athletic guy, overt appreciation of my date. It’s not something I’ve dealt with before…and I don’t think I like it.
Upstairs on the mezzanine, the liveried young host dispatched by the maître d’ leads us to the room I’ve booked. He only has eyes for Miss Steele, and I give him a withering look that sends him in retreat from the opulent dining room. An older waiter seats Ana and drapes a napkin on her lap.
“I’ve ordered already. I hope you don’t mind.”
“No, that’s fine,” she says with a gracious nod.
“It’s good to know that you can be amenable.” I smirk. “Now, where were we?”
“The nitty-gritty,” she says, focused on the task at hand, but then she takes a large gulp of wine and her cheeks color. She must be looking for courage. I’ll have to watch how much she’s drinking, because she’s driving.
She could always spend the night here…then I could peel her out of that enticing dress.
Regaining my focus, I return to business—Ana’s issues. From the inside pocket of my jacket I retrieve her e-mail. She squares her shoulders once more and gives me an expectant look, and I have to hide my amusement. “Clause two. Agreed. This is for the benefit of us both. I shall redraft.”
She takes another sip.
“My sexual health? Well, all of my previous partners have had blood tests, and I have regular tests every six months for all the health risks you mention. All my recent tests are clear. I have never taken drugs. In fact, I’m vehemently antidrug. I have a strict no-tolerance policy with regards to drugs for all my employees, and I insist on random drug testing.”
In fact, one of the people I fired today failed his drug test.
She’s shocked, but I plow on. “I’ve never had any blood transfusions. Does that answer your question?”
She nods.
“Your next point I mentioned earlier. You can walk away anytime, Anastasia. I won’t stop you. If you go, however—that’s it. Just so you know.”
No. Second. Chances. Ever.
“Okay,” she replies, though she doesn’t sound certain.
We both fall silent as the waiter enters with our appetizers. For a moment I wonder if I should have held this meeting at my office, then dismiss the thought as ridiculous. Only fools mix business with pleasure. I’ve kept my work and private life separate; it’s one of my golden rules, and the only exception to that is my relationship with Elena…but then she helped me start my business.
“I hope you like oysters,” I remark to Ana as the waiter leaves.
“I’ve never had one.”
“Really? Well. All you do is tip and swallow. I think you can manage that.” I stare pointedly at her mouth, remembering how well she can swallow. On cue she blushes and I squeeze lemon juice on the shellfish and tip it into my mouth. “Hmm, delicious. Tastes of the sea.” I grin as she watches me, fascinated. “Go on,” I encourage her, knowing that she’s not one to back down from a challenge.
“So, I don’t chew it?”
“No, Anastasia, you don’t.” And I try not to think about her teeth toying with my favorite part of my anatomy.
She presses them into her bottom lip, leaving little indentation marks.
Damn. The sight stirs my body and I shift in my chair. She reaches for an oyster, squeezes the lemon, holds back her head, and opens wide. As she tips the oyster into her mouth my body hardens.
“Well?” I ask, and I sound a little hoarse.
“I’ll have another,” she says with wry humor.
“Good girl.”
She asks me if I’ve chosen oysters deliberately, knowing their reputed aphrodisiac qualities. I surprise her when I tell her they were simply at the top of the menu. “I don’t need an aphrodisiac near you.”
Yeah, I could fuck you right now.
Behave, Grey. Get this negotiation back on track.
“So where were we?” I return to her e-mail and concentrate on her outstanding issues. Clause nine. “Obey me in all things. Yes, I want you to do that.” This is important to me. I need to know she’s safe and will do anything for me. “I need you to do that. Think of it as role-play, Anastasia.”
“But I’m worried you’ll hurt me.”
“Hurt you how?”
“Physically.”
“Do you really think I would do that? Go beyond any limit you can’t take?”
“You’ve said you’ve hurt someone before.”
“Yes, I have. It was a long time ago.”
“How did you hurt her?”
“I suspended her from my playroom ceiling. In fact, that’s one of your questions. Suspension—that’s what the karabiners are for in the playroom. Rope play. One of the ropes was tied too tightly.”
Appalled, she holds up her hand in a plea for me to stop.
Too much information.
“I don’t need to know any more. So you won’t suspend me, then?” she asks.
“Not if you really don’t want to. You can make that a hard limit.”