The Flirtation, Page 9

  “I’ll call you tomorrow,” Daniel said. “Just to check on you. And I’ll have Julie talk to you as well.”

  “That’s not necessary,” Lynne said. “There’s no need for you and Julie to go out of your way.”

  “It is necessary, and we’re not going out of our way.” The way Daniel spoke let her know in no uncertain terms that it was not up for discussion.

  Lynne nodded. “There is one thing I was wondering.”

  “What’s that?” Daniel asked.

  “Why do you think I giggled so much? I never heard of that! Is that normal?”

  Daniel exchanged looks with Luke, and Luke was the one who answered.

  “First, throw away any definition you have of normal. Second, it’s not common, but it happens. Some people react differently to pain than others. Some people cry, and a few of them laugh. That doesn’t make it wrong. Understand?”

  No, she didn’t totally understand, but she knew that normal was different for everybody. She just wished her normal were more in line with everybody else’s normal.

  “I would suggest alerting the Dom you’re playing with about your tendency to giggle,” Daniel said. “Again, not because it’s wrong, but because it’s different. And you don’t want him to be caught off guard.”

  It all made sense when they said it, but Lynne still felt like the biggest freak there was. Suddenly, she wasn’t warm and weightless anymore. She was cold and alone. A tear escaped from her eye.

  “Master,” Julie said, with a nod toward her.

  “And she crashes fast, too,” Daniel said, scooping her up in his arms right as the dam burst.

  • • •

  Later that afternoon, Lynne went for a long walk, just to clear her head and to allow herself time to think. She couldn’t believe she’d cried all over Daniel like she had. He assured her it was fine and completely understandable, but she still felt utterly foolish. What would Simon think if she cried after her demo with him? She tried to decide which was worse, laughing during the scene or sobbing hysterically after?

  Maybe Simon had been right all along about her not being a submissive.

  Daniel had repeatedly told her it didn’t mean any such thing. When she’d finally stopped crying, she’d been mortified, but he’d taken it all in stride and asked her to join him and Julie for lunch. She’d almost said no, but Luke had given her a look and Julie had taken her hand and begged her to join them.

  Lynne had ended up giving in and had a delightful lunch with the fun-loving couple. They were both so down-to-earth and funny. She didn’t feel like a third wheel at all, and by the time they finished and she had returned home, she’d felt much better.

  Daniel had mentioned that a bit of exercise would also help keep the symptoms of subdrop down. He’d told her that was what she’d been experiencing when she’d cried and it was a common reaction to the endorphin drop after a scene.

  As a whole, she didn’t exercise all that much. When she was in Delaware, the kids kept her busy, and in the city, she usually walked. But she thought she needed to walk farther than she normally did, so once she stepped out of the penthouse building, she headed away from school, toward an area of the city she didn’t often frequent.

  Once there, she wandered around, feeling almost like a tourist taking in all the shops and cafés that had been added since her last visit. She’d just passed an ice-cream shop and was debating on whether she wanted to get a cup or a cone when she saw a new jigsaw puzzle store.

  All thoughts of ice cream left her mind. She’d loved jigsaw puzzles in college. They’d provided an outlet for stress relief. In fact, she’d enjoyed them so much, she couldn’t remember when she’d stopped doing them. Probably when she took the job at the law firm. The long hours and almost nonexistent weekends hadn’t allowed her to have much time for hobbies.

  But now . . . She stepped inside and felt the same feeling she did when she walked into a bookstore. So many options to pick from. She knew she was taking a puzzle back to the penthouse; she just didn’t know which one.

  Fifteen minutes later, she’d narrowed it down to two: a ten-thousand-piece New York City scene or an eight-thousand-piece puzzle of a painting that featured a medieval peasant couple. Deciding she would rather have the couple, she put the cityscape box back and started toward the register when the shop door opened and she stopped in her tracks.

  Simon. Simon was here in the jigsaw puzzle store.

  He didn’t see her right away. He was all smiles as he walked up to the counter to speak to the sales associate. It was clear from their conversation that he was a frequent customer.

  She didn’t know how long she stood there, frozen, trying to decide if she wanted to withdraw deeper into the store or to place the puzzle on a nearby shelf and try to leave without being seen. Or if she wanted to stay right where she was so she could look at the all-male deliciousness that was Simon.

  “Can I help you?”

  A sales associate she hadn’t been aware of came up behind her. At the same time, both Simon and the guy he was speaking with looked her way.

  “Ma’am?” the person behind her said.

  Simon turned a bit pale, and his eyes grew wide in recognition. “Lynne?”

  “Simon . . . uh, hi,” she said, feeling like the temperature had risen twenty degrees in the last thirty seconds. She lifted the box she was holding. “Just looking at puzzles.”

  The corner of his mouth twitched upward in the slightest hint of a smile. “I see that. I didn’t know you enjoyed puzzles. And not the simple ones from the looks of it.”

  “Oh, yes.” She nodded. “The harder, the better. I like it hard.” Fuck. “I mean, I like them hard. The puzzles. Not anything else.” That didn’t sound right. “Except some things.” She realized she was staring at his crotch. “I . . . uh . . .”

  Even the sales associates were stunned into silence. She set the box on a nearby table. “I’ll just, uh . . . yeah.” She ran out the door as fast as she could and headed straight for the ice-cream shop.

  Dammit, she thought, wiping the tears that threatened to fall. She should have gotten ice cream like she’d planned to in the first place and never gone into the new store. Now she didn’t have a puzzle and she’d made herself look like an idiot in front of Simon and his friend, the sales guy. Plus, she could now never go back into that store again.

  The chime on the door rang out as the door opened, and she shifted lower into the booth she was sitting at. If only she’d thought to bring a book. Then she could pretend to be reading. Or taking notes. Or doing anything other than sitting in an ice-cream shop, trying not to cry.

  Maybe whoever it was would order and leave.

  “Lynne?”

  But no. It had to be Simon.

  She didn’t look up. “Just leave me alone. I’ve embarrassed myself enough for one century. Please don’t make it worse.”

  “Lynne.”

  The way he said her name, the way it washed over her body, left chills in its wake. She couldn’t help it. She lifted her head, and the sight of him took her breath away. She’d forgotten how his very presence invaded her space, like he was filling her up completely. Until that moment, she hadn’t realized how much she’d missed it. And all too soon, she knew he’d leave and she’d once more be without his strong presence.

  “Hello, Simon.”

  Chapter Six

  Simon knew he shouldn’t follow Lynne out of one store and into another. Even if it weren’t for Nathaniel’s warning sounding loud in his head, he knew better. He’d been so shocked to see her standing there in the jigsaw store, he hadn’t known what to say, and then she’d gotten all flustered. And he’d felt bad because it was his doing.

  Sitting in the booth by herself, she looked so miserable and alone, he wanted nothing more than to sit by her side, gather her in his arms, and tell her everything was going to be all right.

  But she wouldn’t allow that, and he couldn’t afford to do it. Instead, he did the next best th
ing. He pulled the bag out from behind his back and placed it on the table.

  “You forgot something,” he said.

  She sniffled. “I didn’t forget it. I never paid for it.”

  “You were going to. That is, I assume you were. So I went ahead and did it for you.” He didn’t add that he’d been impressed with the level of difficulty of the puzzle she’d chosen.

  “Thank you.” She took out her purse. “What do I owe you?”

  “Nothing. My treat.” He couldn’t believe she thought he would let her pay for it.

  “I can’t let you do that. It’s too much.”

  “Let me do this one thing for you.”

  She nibbled on her bottom lip, and he clenched his fist, because he remembered her doing that when they were together before and it was damn near the sexiest thing he’d ever seen.

  “I don’t know,” she said. “It doesn’t feel right.”

  “In that case, why don’t you make it up to me by inviting me over and cooking me dinner?” He didn’t know where that had come from. It was very high-handed and forward, but he discovered he wasn’t at all sorry he’d said it. For some reason, seeing her again brought to mind all the reasons why he’d wanted to be with her in the first place, and he couldn’t remember why he’d broken things off. Or maybe they just didn’t seem all that important at the moment.

  Her head shot up. “What?”

  “I could help you with the puzzle.”

  Except she might not want his help. Hell, she might not want him, period. Or to have anything to do with him. He wasn’t sure why he wanted to be with her so badly, as it wasn’t a good idea. He knew that she would say no and he’d go home. Back to his quiet apartment with the lovely view. The evening would drag by. Even more so because the only things he’d looked forward to lately were his online chats, but he didn’t have one scheduled with Faye.

  “Okay,” she said, so quietly he wasn’t sure he’d heard her.

  “Yes?” he asked, just to make sure.

  She wiped her nose and pulled herself together. “Yes. I’m at Nathaniel and Abby’s penthouse. You can come over tonight for dinner if that works. Seven?”

  “That would work wonderfully.” He tapped the top of the box. “I’ll leave this with you, and after we eat, I’ll show you my mad puzzle skills.”

  That actually got a half laugh out of her. “No, I don’t think so. After we eat, I’ll show you a thing or two about putting a puzzle together.”

  “Deal.” He stood, silently watching her for a second longer than necessary, and then, before he did something he knew he’d regret, he told her he’d see her later, and left the shop.

  As he walked outside, he asked himself what the hell he was thinking. Why would he practically throw himself at Lynne when nothing good could come from it? He knew he was no good for her, Nathaniel had already threatened him, and he had a kinda, sorta, maybe relationship with Faye.

  The best thing he could do was turn around, go back into the shop, and tell Lynne he was sorry, but dinner and puzzles were a bad idea. But to do that would upset her and he couldn’t take that risk. No, the best thing he could do was to go to the penthouse for dinner, be a friend, not think about the sexy way her teeth bit ever so lightly into her lip, and tell Faye he’d had dinner with an old friend. Yes, that was the plan and he was sticking to it.

  • • •

  As it turned out, his plan lasted for about ten minutes after Lynne let him inside the penthouse. He’d brought a bottle of wine over and followed her into the kitchen when she went to get two glasses and the corkscrew.

  Everything would have been fine except they both reached for the corkscrew at the same time, and when their hands touched, they both let go of it. Lynne flushed that lovely pink shade he appreciated and bent down to pick it up. Unfortunately, she accidentally kicked it and it rolled under the island in the middle of the kitchen.

  Simon watched in stunned silence as she crawled across the floor to get it. Not because her ass looked so fine, though it did, but because her shirt hitched upward, revealing bullwhip marks across her back.

  She was completely unaware as she grabbed the corkscrew and hopped up with a joyous “Got it!”

  Her smile turned into a frown when she saw his expression. “Simon? What’s wrong?”

  He was being ridiculous. He knew it. And yet he still couldn’t stop it. Something inside him morphed into a possessive caveman who thought if anyone was going to take a bullwhip to that delectable flesh, it should have been him.

  And though he knew he was being ridiculous, and he knew it wasn’t any of his business, he couldn’t stop himself from asking, “Who did that to your back?”

  Her face went so pale, for a moment he thought she was going to pass out on him. But no sooner had he blinked than she drew herself up and her cheeks flushed pink. “What’s it to you?”

  “What?” He took a step back. This confrontational Lynne was different and unexpected. And hot.

  “I said, what’s it to you? You made the assumption I wasn’t a submissive. Well, guess what. You were wrong. And that means if I have to find someone else to give me what I need, it’s none of your business.”

  “I know. I’m sorry. It’s just, I wasn’t expecting that.” And that was the understatement of the year. He gave her a small smile. “Forgive me?”

  She appeared calmer, but only a little.

  “Apology accepted.” She turned back to the countertop. “Besides, the Dom I was with today said he thought I might be a masochist. You probably couldn’t give me what I need anyway.”

  He caught himself before he dropped the wineglass he held. “You’re a masochist?” It couldn’t possibly be true. Not Lynne. No way.

  She peeked over her shoulder and looked uncertain for the first time. “I don’t know. Maybe?”

  He shouldn’t be the one she had this conversation with. There was no way he could even pretend to be neutral. Fucking hell. What if she was and he’d let her go? But no, he couldn’t allow himself to think that way.

  “I suggest you talk with Abby,” he finally said. “She’s not a masochist, but I’m sure she could put you in contact with a few people who are.”

  Lynne nodded.

  “Can I see your back?” he asked. “Just out of curiosity.”

  And because he wanted to make sure the Dom she was with knew what he was doing. He told himself it was just part of who he was, that he would do the same with any submissive he knew. And he might, but he’d have been fooling himself to think that it didn’t go further than that with Lynne.

  “Umm.” She looked like she was going to say no. “Sure. Just a second.”

  She put the wine bottle down and turned toward him. The flush still slightly stained her cheeks, and she looked adorably unsure. “Here in the kitchen?”

  “This will be fine.”

  She faced the countertop, away from him, and took the shirt up and off. Instead of letting it drop to the floor, she held it tight in her fist and bent, just a bit at the waist. Her hands rested on the marble.

  He was surprised at the obvious expertise exhibited by the Dom she’d played with. The marks were even and well placed. He traced one line with his fingertip, and under his touch, she sucked in a breath.

  He shouldn’t have touched her. Just the feel of her soft skin made him want her. He wanted her so badly, everything else fell away. All the reasons why he shouldn’t be with her. All the reasons he’d recited to himself in the weeks following their split. Nothing. They were gone. The only thing left was Lynne, and she was under his touch for the moment, no matter how briefly.

  She sighed, a dreamy, earthy sound that had him tracing another whip line just to see if he could get her to repeat that sigh. When he did, he lowered his head, desperate to taste her, to entice more sounds of pleasure.

  Her phone rang, and she shot up, almost hitting him in the chin. “That’s Nathaniel and Abby’s ringtone.”

  Nathaniel. Shit.

  “He
doesn’t have a hidden camera in here, does he?” He asked it like a joke, but he was halfway serious, too.

  “Not that I know of.” She grabbed her phone and answered. “Hello?”

  Simon took the opportunity to get himself under control and