Chapter Seven

Three months later Tara rolled her neck in circles and tried to ease the tension from her muscles. She groaned and closed the journal in front of her, pushing her calculator aside. Besides school and working more hours at Mercier, she had a serious case of tired eyes. It may be time to invest in some reading glasses, she thought, getting up from the chair and stretching her arms overhead.

Now, she'd be able to afford them. Satisfaction thrummed through her veins. Her work caught the eye of one of the partners, and she’d been offered a full-time job, including benefits. She switched to finishing her bachelor's degree online, which saved her commuting time, and gave her the opportunity to graduate faster. Everything she worked for finally clicked into place. She was finally happy. And almost complete.

Almost.

His face flickered in her vision, never far from her mind. Three months. She dreamed of him every night, and woke up with a fierce need that wracked her body. How many times had she picked up the phone to call him? How many times had she walked through the casino, hoping to catch a quick glimpse of him, knowing if she did, she'd never be able to walk away again?

Tara refused to do that to him. He was probably with a woman now. She pictured him kissing her, caressing her, giving her orgasms that shimmered with pleasure. Tara imagined his wicked laugh, the grin on his face as he touched her, the tender way he stroked her wounds.

Tara swallowed back the pain and straightened her back. It had been her decision. She had needed the time to realize she was strong enough to be on her own. Funny, she'd finally been convinced that giving herself to another man wouldn't change who she was. She'd grown up, grown strong, and stood on her own two feet. But now it was too late.

Too late to let him catch her.

She pushed away the sadness and opened the door.

“Hello, Tara.”

She blinked and then gasped as the figment of her imagination walked into her office and stood before her. Immediately, her body softened and trembled, the intense waves of sexual energy whipping around her. God, he was gorgeous. She took in his figure with greed. Those long blonde locks tumbled over his brow, framing glittering green-gold eyes. He wore faded Levis that lovingly gripped his hips and thighs, and simple white t-shirt. His muscles strained against the fabric in an effort to be free. She remembered how he lifted her that night like she weighed nothing, sprawling her over his thighs as he plunged inside of her and…

Hot color flooded her cheeks. Satisfaction gleamed from his eyes, as if he knew her naughty thought. Tara clenched her fingers into a tight fist and fought for composure. “What are you doing here?” she asked.

“I wanted to congratulate you on your promotion. Working full-time now?”

Tara frowned. “How did you know?”

A smile touched his lips. “I know a few people at Mercier. I asked, and they said you’ve been doing very well.”

She dug her nails into her palms to keep from reaching out and touching him. “Thank you. Yes, I'm very excited about it.”

“Still in school?”

He paced the small office with deliberate steps, glancing around. She watched the tight swing of his ass as he moved. Then bit her lip, hard, to keep back a moan. “Ummm, yes. Taking classes online now which gives me more time.”

“Sounds like a great plan. And the shelter?”

He grabbed a paper cup and filled it with water. Tara swallowed hard. She watched his gorgeous lips close around the edge as the cool liquid poured into his mouth and over his tongue. Heat coursed through her. “Huh? Oh, the shelter. I volunteer on weekends.”

“That's good news. I'm glad you're doing well.”

Irritation prickled her nerve endings. “Is that why you're here? To check up on me? Make sure I haven't fallen apart?”

“Nope. I knew you'd do fine. I was hoping you’d have dinner with me this week.”

She blinked, confused. “Dinner?”

“Yes, it’s not an odd concept. We get together over a meal and converse. Catch up.”

“I know what dinner is. I just don’t know why. I thought—I thought this was over.”

His grin was all male and pure wickedness. “Do you want this to be over?”

No. Since she’d left, she’d grown stronger. She’d proved she didn’t need a man to be happy, but God, she missed Rick Steele. Her heart pounded in growing excitement. Maybe it wasn’t too late. “Why now?” she asked softly.

“You needed time,” he said simply. “Time to know whatever you were feeling for me wouldn’t threaten the life you choose to lead. I’m asking for a dinner date. Not to take over your routine or change things. Just to be with you. Will you let me, Tara?”

She studied his face. The warmth and determination in his eyes. The solidness of his frame. The patient energy swarming around him. He would never be like Tim, because he was a man strong enough to be gentle. Didn’t she owe it to herself to explore something good and right for a change? It may have started with one night, but here he was, asking her to dinner. He’d waited three months, waiting until she was confident enough to accept the invitation.

“Yes. I’d love to go to dinner.”

He nodded in an almost regal manner. “Excellent. Tomorrow night. Seven. I’ll pick you up.”

“Here.” She ripped off a sticky note and scribbled her address down, pressing it into his warm palm. He grasped her fingers and lifted her hand to his lips. Then kissed her wrist, seeming to savor the rollicking beat of her heart.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.”

His words were a delicious promise and thinly veiled threat of what was to come.

Tara anticipated both.

***

Rick glanced at her from across the table, enjoying the view.

Her hand had trembled in nervousness when she opened the door, but she had dressed to please him. He knew she was conscious of her scars, but she’d worn a short black cocktail dress that hugged her lush curves and showed off the ripeness of her heavy breasts. Strawberry hair fell over her shoulders, brushing over that soft white skin. Three-inch open toe black stilettos made him fantasize of those heels digging into his ass as he fucked her. She was Eve incarnate, and all he wanted to do was take her in his arms and kiss her until she surrendered completely to him.

Instead, he’d smiled with pure pleasure, complimented her on the outfit, and led her into his black Mercedes.

He’d chosen a private booth in a small, intimate Italian restaurant that was known for their homemade pasta and sauce. Frank Sinatra crooned through the speakers, and the waiters spouted out lilting Italian interspersed between English. The tables were red, and white checkered, and candles burned brightly in the dim lighting. The setting inspired cozy conversations and spilling secrets.

He ordered a bottle of Chianti and some various appetizers for her to nibble on, then settled back in the booth. She flushed with pleasure at the attention. Tara deserved to be spoiled and treated like the vibrant, intelligent woman she was. Knowing she’d missed so much due to her abusive past made him want to beat the shit out of all the men before him. Instead, he reigned himself in, vowing to spoil her rotten and make her so damn happy, she’d never look back.

“I probably shouldn’t eat so much,” she confided. “I’ve gained weight these past few months.”

His gaze narrowed in warning. “I like my women curvy and satisfied,” he said. “I also don’t like when you talk negatively about your body. Every inch of you is beautiful to me.”

“That’s how you make me feel,” she whispered.

“Don’t forget it.”

“Then I guess I’ll have bread.”

He laughed and cut a thick slice, sliding the plate across the table. “See? You’re a fast learner.”

“You inspire me.” She swirled the edge in olive oil, then nibbled at the crust. “Tell me more about your family. You said you have three brothers.”

“Yes. I’m the oldest. Then we have Rome, Rafe, and Remington.”

Humor glinted in her aqua eyes. “Oh, your Mama must be tough.”

Rick grinned. “Hell, yes. We were all a bunch of hellions. She ruled with an iron fist, had eyes in the back of her head, and loved us so hard no one was afraid to mess with us. Dad retired finally, and they’re living in Atlantic City, enjoying some well deserved time to relax.”

“And you’re all dealers?”

“Rome and Remington are. Rafe is in the military. I’m trying to get them to come out to Vegas.”

She gave a sigh, her face full of longing. “It must’ve been so nice growing up with a big family. I’m an only child. Dad ran off when I was young, and I’m just not close to my mother.”

He reached out and took her hand. “Did she know about how your ex treated you?”

Tara shook her head. “No. But she really didn’t look hard at our relationship, or ask questions. She was a single mother, so Mom worked all the time. She played hard, too. There were many boyfriends in and out of the house. Some of them were nice, some of them weren’t. I think that’s why when Tim first hit me and wept for forgiveness, it wasn’t as shocking as it should’ve been.”

“Youth and first love is so fragile,” he finally said. “I’m sorry you were hurt. But you not only survived, you thrived. You made your own way, Tara. That’s very cool. Too many people out there wouldn’t have the strength. They would’ve stayed.”

Their gazes locked. Emotion shimmered around them, along with a leashed sexual energy that brought a low growl to his lips. Her pupils dilated, and Rick knew she was as turned on as he was. It was time to talk about other things in their relationship. Things he wanted to explore and dive into.

The waiter brought their food, added fresh Parmesan, and glided away.

“I want to fuck you.”

Her fork clattered onto the plate. She winced at the sound, but her face reflected a growing arousal from his dirty talk. “Now? Here?”

A delighted grin broke across his face. “Would you allow me to?”

A frown creased her brow. “I don’t know.”

“An honest answer. Tara, I like to play on the sexual side of submission and domination. Do you know anything about it?”

“Yes.” A shudder broke through her. “Tim liked to tie me up and beat me. I couldn’t do that with you. I still have a long way to go, Rick. I get flashbacks, and nightmares. Not being able to move would scare me.”

“I promise you one thing. I will never do anything to hurt you. I’m not looking for a contract or a safe word. I will never cause you physical pain unless you ask for it.”

“Why would I ask for any pain?”

“Pleasure and pain is a fine line. If I bit your neck and the flash of pain took on immense pleasure, would you make me stop?”

Tara tilted her head in consideration. “No.”

“That’s the only type of pain I’d give you. I like to give commands that turn us both on. Everything I do would be for your pleasure. If you feel uncomfortable, or feel I’m pushing, you need to tell me. Communication is key between us. I want to know everything you’re feeling and thinking.”

“You make me feel like there’s nowhere to hide anymore. It’s a—strange feeling.”

“Good or bad?”

“Both.”

“Again, thank you for the honesty. Sweetheart, I don’t want to scare you about expectations when we just started to date. But watching you across the table, nibbling on that bread, licking the oil off your lips, all I can think of is you on your knees with my cock buried in your mouth.”

She sucked in a breath. Her fingers clenched around the fork, and the glassiness of her eyes gave him confirmation she liked talking about sex. About the things they’d do together. Maybe she’d like a bit of a naughty push.

“Would you like that, too?” he asked in a low voice.

“Yes.” There was no hesitation in her breathy reply.

“Good. Now, before we dive into this delicious dinner, I’d like you to do something for me. I want you to go into the ladies room and remove your panties. Come back to the table and give them to me.”

Her blue eyes held shock and raw lust. “What if someone sees?”

Rick raised a brow. “Take them off in a private stall. Your dress covers you properly. No one will know but me, and you.”

Her pale pink lips parted. He shifted in his seat as his dick swelled so hard his jeans felt like they’d shrunk. He could tell she wanted to do it. He also knew she’d never done something like this before, so her brain was scrambling to recite all the logical reasons not to do it. Rick tested her to see her response.

His voice deepened with command. “I’m asking you to do this for me, Tara. Now.”

One second. Two. Three.

She rose from the booth and clicked away on her high heels. He waited, picturing slipping off the lacy material down her legs. Imagined putting them in her tiny purse. Imagined how her pussy would soften and grow wet at the idea she was bare underneath the proper black dress.

Finally, her heels alerted him and she slid back into the booth. Her body was trembling like a fine tuned instrument. Her skin was a light rosy pink, and her pulse beat madly at the base of her throat.

Rick reached across the table, palm open. “Good girl. Now give me the panties.”

He waited. She bit her lip, looked down at her purse, and hesitated. Slowly, she handed over a tiny scrap of black lace, closing his fingers quickly around the wad of material.

Discreetly, he tucked the panties in his pocket and looked at her. Lust glittered from her features. HIs smile was slow, and pure wicked. “Thanks sweetheart. Now, eat your dinner and enjoy. I know I will. I’ll imagine your pink pussy begging for my fingers. I’ll imagine how later I’ll tease your clit, push inside you, and make you come so hard you’ll cry my name.”

Then he began to eat.