Make Me Shiver

Chapter Nine

It felt as if her nerves were shot, her sexual frustration at an all-time high. Michael had arrived in the limo at seven o’clock as promised, dressed to the nines in a spiffy suit, bowtie and shiny dress shoes.

His face was cleanly shaven and his hair was neat and pulled back at the nape with a leather tie. He appeared so different from the man who’d bent her over the spanking apparatus in his home, stirring a fire in her blood.

Even worse, his touches were fleeting, his mannerisms those of a man taking a date to dinner for the first time. From time to time his eyes betrayed him, those ice blue irises flaring when turned in her direction. Unfortunately those long, tanned fingers stayed exactly where they belonged and he kept enough space between them that she could feel the heat of his body but was unable to bask in it.

He took her to the posh Le Mer restaurant in Nashville. She was nervous from the moment she exited the vehicle, unable to relax until she took her seat at a table situated in the far end of the room.

From her seat she could see everything, although the curved wall surrounding them practically obscured her and Michael from view.

Michael chose the wine and they gave the server their orders. With a curt nod, the waiter walked away and left them alone at the table. She tried to initiate a conversation with the eye candy across from her but the words wouldn’t come out. Whereas Michael was clearly in his zone, looking good enough to eat, she felt uncertain and awkward.

“I was worried you wouldn’t join me tonight,” Michael said, breaking the silence.

The tension at the back of her neck diminished. A safe conversation. Not a bad way to start the evening. “After all the gifts you sent, how could I possibly say no?”

“So that’s what it takes to get on your good side.” His seductive gaze made her insides puddle.

“Bribery never hurts.”

“Are you still angry with me?” He didn’t look away and she knew he was intentionally gazing into her eyes, forcing her to answer honestly. “Have you had enough time to sort things out?”

“I’m not angry.” She told herself to be truthful, even if it was difficult. “I’m just confused.”

“About?”

“The fantastic evening we shared that was destroyed by a former lover who showed up at your doorstep.”

“A former lover who had no business being there in the first place,” he reminded her. “I was just as angry as you were.”

“I somehow doubt that.”

“Why?”

She wanted to tell him because she was the one who’d had to face Aly when he was nowhere in sight. Humiliation took on a whole other meaning when she got a slice of humble pie.

“I felt betrayed.”

“Now we’re getting somewhere.” Placing his elbows on the table, he continued, “Betrayal is an interesting thing, because the emotion can exist even if there isn’t a solid foundation for it. That’s why most marriages fail, you know. The lack of communication and trust creates a roadblock. It’s important to always tell me how you feel, even if it makes you uncomfortable.”

“You can tell I’m uncomfortable?”

“Extremely.”

“I don’t want it to happen again.” Shit. She’d come right out and said it.

“I can’t promise unexpected people won’t show up on my doorstep, but since I removed my spare key I can assure you no one will enter my home again unless we extend an invitation.”

“We?”

“Did you honestly think I’d send you gifts and bring you here if I didn’t intend to have you at my home as often as possible?”

If the chair she was seated in hadn’t been holding her ass in place, she was fairly certain she would have swooned and tottered to the floor. He smiled and reclined in his chair as the server returned with their wine, filled their glasses and left again.

“Tell me about you, Lacey.”

The request was so surreal. He’d seen her posed in the most intimate ways, yet she had only told him bits and pieces about her life. “What do you want to know?”

“Start at the beginning.”

“The beginning?” She laughed and reached for her glass. “I was born, I grew and here I am.”

“What about your parents?”

“What about them?” She took a sip of the wine and rolled the bittersweet liquid in her mouth.

He took her teasing good-naturedly. “How do they feel about their daughter moving miles from home to live in a rural town?”

“They didn’t mind. I was away at college for several years and they’d already retired and started traveling the world. They drop postcards in the mail and call once a week.”

“You went to Berkeley, right?”

She was impressed. Michael had obviously done his homework. “Yes. It’s where I met Candy.”

“It’s hard to imagine you two becoming friends.” When she frowned he explained, “You’re nothing alike.”

She jumped to her friend’s defense, feeling her temper come to life. “Candy isn’t the same woman she was in college.”

“None of us are.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Invisible scars.” Michael’s deadpan statement agitated her. “Easy to spot if you’re looking.”

“What would you know about it?”

“Enough.” He placed his forearm on the table. “I knew Candice when she was just a teenager, before she decided to hold a grudge against the world.”

“That’s not fair.”

“I’m not insulting her, Lacey,” Michael clarified, and she realized he was taking cues from her body language—namely the fisted fingers wrapped around the stem of her glass.

She allowed her fingers to go limp and took a deep breath. “It doesn’t sound that way.”

“Listen,” Michael sat up, his expression no longer matter-of-fact but tender, “I was merely stating a fact. I never would have thought the two of you were friends.”

She attempted steer the conversation to a safe place. “How about you? Did you go to college?”

“I got my associate degree in business before I decided I wanted to work for my father. It didn’t take long for me to figure out I was more comfortable in jeans and grease than I was sitting behind a desk.”

She brought the glass to her lips and asked, “So your father started the company?”

He nodded. “He opened Mike’s Wrecker shortly after I was born. He must have known or hoped I’d take over, since he started the business while I was only in diapers.”

“What about your mom?”

“She was an RN.”

“Was? What does she do now?”

Michael’s eyes darkened, becoming reflective. “She passed away several years ago.”

“I’m sorry.” She returned her glass to the table before he could see her hand shaking.

Open mouth, insert foot.

“It’s okay.” He lifted his glass. “Both of my parents are deceased, actually. I’ve had time to come to grips with it.”

“Both of them?”

“My mother had an aneurysm. It was unexpected and devastating. My father had a difficult time letting her go, so he started drinking. One night he had one too many and he lost control of his car. He crashed down a ravine not far from home and died on impact.”

“Oh God, Michael.” She ached to reach over the unbearable distance created by the table and smooth the lines around his mouth.

“They always said they couldn’t exist without each other. I learned the hard way that they weren’t lying.” He shrugged and put down his drink. “It was a long time ago.”

“Is that what you want?” Her heart lodged in her throat and she wanted to slap herself as the question flew from her mouth. She felt the telling heat of embarrassment staining her cheeks as a loud roar engulfed her ears. He was talking about his dead parents and she wasn’t filtering anything she said.

“To find a commitment like that, I mean.” She rushed to clarify. “Not dying after the loss of another person.”

“My parents were the ultimate example of what I wanted for myself. I’ve never seen two people more devoted to each other. Even as they got older, they behaved like teenagers, sneaking kisses when they thought I wouldn’t see or rushing upstairs for time alone when I was visiting. If I didn’t know any better I’d say that each time I drove over for Sunday dinner they used it as an excuse to turn back the clock and pretend they were newlyweds who had to sneak moments together since they had a rambunctious toddler underfoot.”

Unsure of how to respond, Lacey was grateful when the server arrived with the entrees. She was too wired to eat, so after forcing a few bites down she shuffled the food around her plate. When she glanced across the table, she noticed Michael was doing the same. The silenced stretched, becoming miserable, until he placed his fork on his plate and gave her his undivided attention.

“My parents taught me a lot about who and what I am. My father was a Dom and my mother was a submissive.” When her eyes went wide and her lips parted in shock, he laughed. “I suppose that’s where it comes from. I wasn’t fully aware of their kink until I was a teenager and started to notice certain things and decided to break into what I was always told was my parents’ private office.”

“A playroom?” She was grateful her voice didn’t crack.

He smiled and gave a humored nod. “My mother doted on my father and he treated her like a queen. If I was given the choice of what I wanted in a partnership, it would be to have what they did.”

He didn’t look away when he went quiet, studying her. Then he said softly, “It’s something I want to share with you, Lacey.”

“How is that even possible?” She struggled with the questions in her mind. “Can you have a family and that kind of a relationship?”

“I asked Dad about it when I graduated high school and discovered I had a lot more fun holding girls down than I did chasing them around. He was a straight shooter about everything and didn’t try to hide or keep anything from me. It is tricky, especially when children are involved, which is why I believe they decided I was more than enough. Finding sitters so they could have time wasn’t easy, especially when they worked and their schedules kept them apart.”

“You want children?” The question hovered in the air, as did the sexual tension that had crept upon them.

“Yes.” His deep and husky voice caused her panties to become drenched. She’d forgotten how potent one word could be when it came from Michael.

“So all of the things you said,” she gulped, struggling to control the erratic beating of her heart, “all of the talk of marriage, kids, the white picket fence, a dog…it was all true?”

“What did you think it was, angel?” His eyes darkened, becoming liquid sapphire as he bestowed the endearment.

“I didn’t know. Everything was so confusing when Aly showed up. Everything you said, everything I believed.” Shaking her head, she glanced at her plate, incapable of finding the right words.

When she gazed up at him, she attempted to convey what she felt through her eyes. “What do you want from me?”

“Everything,” he responded, waiting until the significance of what he said soaked in before he continued. “This moment, right now, is our second chance.” He took the napkin from the table and tossed it over his half-eaten plate. “I can’t change what happened. I regret it, even though it wasn’t my fault. You have to know by now that it wasn’t something I wanted to happen. You’re going to have to make a decision. Leave the past behind—here and now—or I’ll take you home and we can end things before someone gets hurt.”

“How long do I have to decide?”

“You’ve had your time. If you don’t know what you want by now, you’re never going to.” His lips curved wryly. “You don’t strike me as a woman who is indecisive, and since you’re wearing the necklace I have a pretty good idea on where we stand.”

“So it is more than a gift.” A flush swept from her head to her toes, hardening her nipples into aching points and venturing lower to heat and moisten the apex of her thighs.

“Much more.” His sexy grin put her temperature to a hot simmer. “Have I told you how much I love that color? When you blush, I imagine pink blossoming all over your body.”

“You’re trying to embarrass me.” She ducked her head because she felt her face growing warmer.

“Can’t have that, can we?” She glanced up and he leaned over his plate, closing the distance between them. “I have an invitation to a party tonight. It’s a private gathering, which means that you don’t have to worry about indiscretion. All you have to do is a little something for me, so that I know you want this as much as I do.”

“What do you want me to do?” Her chest constricted, making it difficult to breathe. She recognized the look in his eye and her body started to tremble when he sat back and his expression changed.

“Take off your panties and give them to me.”

“Do what?” She muffled the question, whispering as loudly as she dared and glanced around the restaurant. Everyone seemed oblivious to the conversation taking place between her and Michael.

Fortunate, since she was as unnerved as she was keyed up. There was sternness in Michael’s gaze when she stopped looking around and gawked at him.

“If you want this, I want your panties— now.” The change in his voice told her that he was no longer asking.

She opened her mouth and closed it, like a guppy that jumped to freedom from the tank only to find the world outside wasn’t as it seemed. Her morality battled her sexuality. Even as she told herself it was wrong another, wilder portion of herself urged her to place her hands under her dress, tug the panties slowly past her ass and remove them so she could do as he desired.

Bless me, Father, for I’m about to sin.

After a brief hesitation, she gave in to the louder voice that appealed to her darker, more sensual nature. Kicking off her heels, she brought her hands to her dress and lifted it. Removing the clasps attached to her corset and stockings was easy. The hard part was pulling the panties down without shifting too much and drawing the attention of the server or someone in the restaurant.

Michael watched her the entire time, his eyes never losing focus. When she finally had the skimpy underwear around her ankles she bent to the side, lifted her feet to slide them off and wadded the lace in her fist.

“Hand them to me.” He extended his hand directly over the table and she froze, mortified that someone might see her passing such an intimate article of clothing to her date in public. If Michael was angry it didn’t show, though he warned, “I’m not going to ask again.”

She watched, horrified, as she did as he told her. He took the black lace into his hand and promptly brought the cloth to his nose. The visual obliterated her fear and she was suddenly aware of just how cold the air felt against her bare pussy. A pulse of wet warmth coated her cleft and she blushed as she imagined a stain on her dress, allowing God and everyone in the restaurant to know just how turned-on she was.

“I love the way you smell, Lacey.” He lowered his hand and tucked the panties into the inner pocket of his jacket. His grin was enough to make her insides wilt. “It makes me want to bend you over this table and fuck you until you can’t breathe.”

He rose from his chair, walked to her and assisted her from the seat. She frowned as he took her directly to the coat check, retrieved their jackets and didn’t bother paying for their meal.

“What about the bill?” she asked as he helped her into her coat.

“Already taken care of.” He turned her toward him and pulled her close. “The same man who owns Le Mer also owns Fantasia. All of the people seated near us are avid players.” As she gazed into his eyes, becoming lost in their blue depths, he murmured, “I would never embarrass or hurt you. That first act was one of trust. No one seated near us would ever dare say a word because it’s not something they’d even bat an eyelash at.”

“So they knew?”

“Not everything, but since I’ve never brought a woman here before, I’m sure they appreciated the importance—and significance—of the evening.”

Her gaze lowered to his mouth and a molten heat built in her belly. It had been over a week since she’d felt the pressure of his lips on hers, since she’d tasted that salty, sweet taste that was all Michael.

As if he read her thoughts, he pulled back. “Not yet.”

“Why?” She fought the wisps of fire spreading through her stomach, causing her to become wetter, priming her for whatever it was he wanted.

“Building anticipation can make the consummation so much more powerful. Trust me. When we get to the party, you’ll understand.”

“What if I don’t want to wait until the party?” she snapped, sexually frustrated and hot as hell after a week of dreaming of her date turned tormentor.

His voice was stern but there was humor in his expression. “I’d say that you’d best remember that I’m the one who calls the shots. Keep complaining and not only will I tan your beautiful ass, I’ll put a pocket rocket in that needy pussy of yours and leave you aching for hours before I let you come.”

“You wouldn’t.”

He guided her toward the doors and lowered his head. “Are you sure enough about that to take the risk?”

Deciding she certainly wasn’t, she kept her complaints to herself.

He opened the door and the winter air soared up her skirt, frigid and almost painful against her unprotected, overly warm and sensitized flesh. As the breeze cooled her off, she said a silent prayer of thanks to Mother Nature for managing to prevent at least one forest fire.

Michael opened the door, training his face to remain blank as Lacey slid into the seat and scooted to make room for him. Instead of the space he’d insisted on before, he kept zero distance between them, pulling her snug against his side, and placed his hand on her knee before guiding his palm up until it rested between her thighs.

He could feel the heat radiating from her cunt, and he remembered how delicious her panties smelled. She wanted this, even if she was a nervous and inexperienced player. While a part of him worried she might balk when faced with naked submissives at the feet of their masters, attentive to them and only them, he had a good idea that she would find some eroticism in the act. Of course the other area, in which those with a taste for exhibitionism would be, was the one place he wanted to take her most. He still recalled how her lids drooped and her eyes clouded when he’d stroked his cock, as if she were mesmerized by the act of him pleasuring himself.

In fact…

“Lacey,” he purred into her ear, aware that she shivered at the contact of his lips against her delicate skin. “Do you still want to come?” She nodded, gasping for breath, and he smiled. “Then touch yourself.”

Her eyes flickered to the black partition between the driver and the occupants before she looked at him. Although the fiber optic lighting in the back was set to dim, he could clearly see her face.

Her green irises were barely visible, little more than small rings containing her dilated pupils.

“I can’t do that.”

He removed his hand from her thigh, collected her own which was resting on the seat, and brought it back to the area where the skirt was hiked due to his touch. “No one will see and no one will know. Trust me.”

Her fingers were trembling as he released her hand and she slowly parted her legs. He lifted her skirt, revealing the loose clasps of her luscious black garters, until her mound was visible. Before she made contact, her fingertips skimming over her upper thighs, she stiffened and shook her head.

“I can’t.”

He caved to her nervousness, wanting to give her pleasure and ease her anxiety while exploring something new. “Let me help you.”

Grasping her fingers, he used his free hand to spread her legs wider as he brought her fingers to the lips of her sex. He could already see the glistening wet beads of her arousal, tempting him to take a knee in front of her, bury his head in the paradise he longed for and eat her pussy until she was panting for more. The first brush of her fingers against her labia caused her to moan and she widened her legs even farther without encouragement.

“Focus on your clit,” he ordered in a hoarse, throaty growl.

As she moved her fingers to the button at the top, he placed two fingers together and slid them easily within her satiny depths. The heat that wrapped around his digits was pure fire, liquid and blistering. When her softness pressed against his knuckles, he turned his fingers and began brushing them along her vaginal walls, searching for and quickly finding that sensitive spot within. She arched into his fingers and began rubbing frantically at her clit, her shallow intakes of air sporadic.

“That’s it, angel. I want you to come on my fingers. I want to feel you spasm all around them.

And when you do, I want you to imagine it’s my cock inside you, thick and hard. It is, you know. I’ve been hard as a fucking diamond ever since I picked you up. It’s been torture keeping my hands to myself. Make it worth my while. Show me that you’re worth waiting for.”

She groaned and he moved, aligning their bodies until their mouths met. He kissed her deeply, taking total control until she was left with no choice but to accept what he wanted. His tongue met hers, brushed against it, and she abruptly pulled away, her desperate emerald eyes practically pleading.

“Please…” The request was a whimper, brought about when he rubbed his fingers just inside her. He wanted to take his time and bask in her surrender. Instead he rewarded her for remembering to ask for permission, for submitting to him without restraint.

“Come for me.”

Her back arched and she cried out as her pussy contracted around his fingers, going tight and loose only to start all over again. He was powerless to turn away as he watched her climax. The light captured her parted lips, blush-stained cheeks and the heavy fringe of her eyelashes as they fluttered closed. As the final shudders passed, her fingers stilled at her clit, slid down and became languid over his hand.

“You’re so fucking gorgeous.”

He pulled his fingers free and took the opportunity to taste the honey he’d denied himself. This was to take the edge off, to make sure that when she arrived at the party she wasn’t so wired she’d jump the gun and do whatever he wanted just to alleviate the ache. He reattached the clasps on her garters, skimming his fingers over her stockings, and pulled her skirt down. She turned to him, placing her head in the crook of his neck.

“Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me.”

When she lifted her head and frowned, he grinned. It was wrong to show her so much so soon, but he couldn’t prevent the rate at which things were progressing. He wanted her completely. If things went as he hoped, this was the start of the journey.

“I expect to be compensated. I won’t tell you how or when but I’ll expect you to do whatever I ask, whenever I ask.” She blushed again and uncertainty returned to her gaze. “Do you remember what I said about trust?” he asked. “You have to trust me or none of this will work.”

After a moment she nodded and rested her head against him.

“That’s my brave, brave girl,” he whispered into her hair and settled back, getting comfortable for the trip to Trevor’s lush estate nestled on the outskirts of town.