Page 51 of Dare to Love Again

“Thank you, and it’s why I use it. The trouble with Samantha is when it’s invariably shortened to Sam.” She looked at him wide-eyed, waiting for it to click. “Don’t tell me you’ve never heard of Sam Spade.”

He shrugged and shook his head.

“You’ve never read or seenThe Maltese Falcon?”

“Nope. Sorry.”

Her shoulders slumped. “Well, that certainly makes the whole buildup and the story itself pointless. Huh.”

His hands curled around her shoulders, and he brought her in close, declaring in a low, nasally twang, “When you’re slapped, you’ll take it and like it.”

“You do know it!” she exclaimed.

When he smiled, her heart beat faster, but when he grinned, like now, warmth coiled in her belly and sent little tingles dancing in her girlie parts below.

“My ma wasn’t one for detective stories per se, but she adored Humphrey Bogart. It was impossible not to know him, or the unflinchingly determined private eye, Sam Spade, when I saw it a hundred times growing up.”

“You’re an awful tease, Master Finn. And, due respect, that has to be the worst Bogey impression I’ve ever heard.”

He shrugged, still grinning. “I’m not offended. But allow me to make my own observation. You, Samantha Esmerelda Spade, have got the sexiest laugh I’ve ever heard.” His arms slipped around her, both hands coming up to lie flat on her back, pressing them belly to belly, her breasts to his chest. “All kidding aside, I want you, Esme, and I mean to have you.” He bent and ran his lips along the curve of her neck. “I can’t wait to strip you bare and fuck you until you come screaming to the rafters. I want to see you in my ropes, tied in creative ways that will leave you trembling and breathless for more. And trust me, Tristan isn’t the only one who can rig a suspension. If not ropes, I’ll use leather cuffs to bind you to a bed or on a cross, and when I have you helpless, posed with your delicious round ass aimed my way, I’ll bring it slowly from creamy white to pink, to rosy red, and not only by my hand.”

His mouth moved upward along her jaw to her mouth, where it hovered, his lips brushing hers with each delicious syllable when he continued.

“You’ll take what I give you, love how I make you feel, and, I promise, you’ll beg me for more. It’s what dreams are made of”—she’d be damned if the man didn’t throw in another Bogart quote—“and I can’t wait to make yours come true.”

A rush of fervent desire tightened her nipples. They ached where they rubbed against his chest, and wetness flooded the long-neglected place between her thighs. She gazed into his stunning eyes, unable to speak, barely able to think, except to remember her lie. She wanted this, and she wanted it with Finn.

“Too much?” he murmured, gliding his tongue along her lower lip. “If so, you’ll get used to it. I believe in being direct.”

He tilted his head ever so slightly and took her mouth in a kiss so smoldering hot and possessive, Esme could only define it as claiming.

“Are you ready to play, little lass?”

Over his shoulder, she could see the huge double doors that led into the heart of Decadence. It would be her first scene. She was bound to draw a crowd.

“Could we go upstairs instead?”

“No, baby. With the band here, more people showed than expected. All the rooms are reserved until midnight.”

“I haven’t played in public in a very long time.”

Tenderly, one hand framed her face, his thumb brushing her cheek in a gentle sweep. “Has that been a problem for you before?”

“No, it’s just, I’ve developed a reputation for being distant, and, well...according to Master Eric, a gawker. Members complained. They will repay me in kind.”

“As beautiful as you are, people are bound to watch, but none would dare say a harsh word or they would be answerable to me. We’ll take it slow. Perhaps a scene at the chain station or on a bench.” He frowned, as if remembering something. “Benches fill up first, however.”

In chains, with hundreds of eyes watching her. She inhaled slowly.

“You can trust me to take care of you, Esme, but if you’re not there yet, we can wait for a room. It will be Saturday before I’m free again, however.”

Four days, she might die from sexual starvation, or worse, change her mind again.

“I don’t want to wait anymore, sir. And chains, well, as I witnessed earlier, seem pretty hot.”

“They can be, but with you and me, Esme, we’ll shoot for smoldering.”

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