Page 19 of The Master

Another smile. “Good.”

“Are you?” I asked. “And be honest.”

He kissed my forehead. “Very much.”

We started walking again, crossing into the Sculpture Court where other couples strolled along, having similar conversations, and laughing in similar ways. Here, he wasn’t an insanely wealthy CEO of a record label, and I wasn’t an assistant in the A&R department. We were just another couple on a date.

We talked as we walked, about nothing and everything. Little things like favorite songs and food. Medium size things about art. We left the big things for future discussions. We were progressing to something real, but that didn’t mean every conversation needed to be serious. Honestly, after all the drama that had happened since we met, we needed a day like this.

When we arrived back at the house, the ease between us remained, and we put together the makings of a light dinner. It wasn’t until we were cleaning up that something shifted. He came up behind me as I reached up to put away the basket we’d used, his arms sliding around my waist. I shivered as his front pressed against my back.

“It’s barely evening,” he said, putting his lips against my ear. “What should we do for the rest of the night?”

His palms heated my skin through my shirt where they rested on my stomach. He wasn’t doing anything overtly sexual, but a single touch or look from him never failed to turn me on, not even when I was mad at him. We hadn’t set any specific schedule for us to start having sex again, but I didn’t doubt he’d been thinking along the same lines as me, that we’d be in bed together before the end of this trip.

I leaned back against him, smiling as he tightened his arms around me. “I think we should do what you told me we would be doing.”

“And what would that be?” He nipped the top of my ear.

“Taking from that envelope you gave me. Acting out one of the things that you dreamed.”

He went completely still behind me. “Are you sure?”

I nodded. “Do you have a room here? A room where we can…play?”

He stepped back and took my hand. “This way.”

His fingers threaded between mine the same way he had all day, but now, with the promise of more coming, there was a different sort of heat to it. We went up the stairs and down the hall to the last room on the left. With as many rooms as this place had, it was no surprise I hadn’t found the playroom. Plus, there was the fact that this door had one of those electronic locks on it and I had no idea what the code was.

“The lock’s for privacy rather than security,” he said as he punched in a series of numbers slow enough that I could follow. “The code is my birthday.”

I stored the information away for future use, promising myself that I’d make a point of doing something for his birthday. Right now, however, I was more interested in what we were going to be doing in the immediate future. Then the door swung open, and all I could do was stare, trying to take it all in.

The playroom in his penthouse looked like a specialized guest room. But this one? It didn’t look like any place I’d want to put a guest. Not that it was scary. It was actually like an S&M version of the scene inBeauty & the Beastwhere the Beast gives Belle the library. Not because the room actually looked like the library, but more because I felt him watching to see what my reaction would be.

Amazing natural light came through a skylight and a set of French doors. More toys were on the walls than there had been in the city. Swaths of colorful cloth masterfully hung and draped, somehow managing to complement and contrast with the wooden paneling.

“Wow.” I followed him inside, still looking at all there was to see.

A large bed, easily the same size as the one in his penthouse. A pair of padded benches, one where the top was covered with soft-looking fabric, the other covered on the lower part where someone – well, me, I supposed – would end up kneeling. Soft leather restraints fastened to one wall and hard metal ones next to them. Something that looked like a hurdle I’d see on a track, except thicker with a slightly pointier top. I had absolutely no idea what that was supposed to be, but I suspected Nate would show me at some point, and I’d enjoy it as much as I’d enjoyed everything else we’d done.

“I know I’d said we’d pick out one of the scenes I wrote down, but there’s one I haven’t been able to get out of my head.” He took my other hand and turned me to face him. He spoke slowly, his eyes darkening as each word dripped with sensuality. “You, hands and knees, wrists tied together, ankles tied to your thighs.”

Oh. That one.

I remembered that one.

“Say something.” He brushed the back of his hand down my cheek. “It’s okay if that’s too much. It was just a thought.”

I put my finger on his lips, and his eyebrows shot up. “I’m sorry, Mr. Lexington, but I think you misunderstood my silence. I was just remembering how I felt when I read your description of that scene.”

He took my hand again. “And what did you feel?”

I wet my bottom lip. “So far beyond turned on that it almost hurt.”

“Good answer,le soleil.”

He bent his head and took my mouth with the same confidence and intensity that he showed every time he kissed me. Even his gentlest kiss made me weak in my knees. He gathered me in his arms, pulling me tight against him until I could feel every inch of his hardness against my softness. Even though it had been two weeks since we’d last had sex and his erection pressed against my belly, telling me just how much he wanted me, he took his time, tongue sweeping between my lips.

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