Chapter 28
Not many moments in his adult life delivered the same thrill and pleasure he got from planning and executing what he considered a masterful tour de force catering to a romantic interest.
What’s that you say? Romantic?
Yep, he said it, and he meant it.
Rebecca was special. Her reaction to his efforts charmed him, making it abundantly clear that no one had ever put her first or cared even a little about her needs and wants.
Did it make him a dick for being glad he was the first?
Maybe.
His strategy for this evening had multiple bullet points.
· Spoil
· Tease
· Indulge
· Focus
He felt confident that his efforts were paying off when he escorted her into the dining room and held her chair as she sat. She was relaxed and appeared happy.
Dinner was a complete triumph. The individual Wellingtons earned her applause, and he congratulated himself on making all the right choices.
Their conversation was broad—ranging from childhood events to Cowtown rodeos and everywhere in between.
She laughed easily.
He kept her wine glass filled and did his part to entertain by retelling a couple of hilarious shenanigans he and his siblings had pulled off. Things were proceeding better than he had hoped.
After dinner, they headed out back to enjoy the summer sunset and dessert—a tiramisu he was damn proud of.
“I should have worn sensible shoes,” she sighed while looking at her sexy footwear. “Can’t walk on gravel or dirt with these. You’ll have to give me a garden tour the next time I’m here.”
Though he didn’tmove,inside Jamie’s head, he had leaped up, whooping and fist-pumping over her innocent comment.
Next time? Damn straight, there’d be a next time!
Cautiously, he paid a simple compliment to see how she reacted.
“Sunset brings out your beauty.”
Tugging her earlobe—a sign she wasn’t used to compliments—she grimaced. “Do you mean that, or is telling a woman she’s beautiful just something you do?”
“I don’t say what I don’t mean. And with you, Rebecca, I really, really mean every word coming out of my mouth.”
Her skepticism was cute.
“May I ask a question?” His brows rose slightly.
“Um, okay. I guess.”
“Don’t be nervous,” he chuckled. “We’re just talking.”
Inclining her head, she half-smirked and said, “Go ahead, then.”
Given the all-clear, he asked, “I’m noticing you don’t wear jewelry. What’s that about?”
‘Oh.” Her expression flattened.
He’d hit a nerve.
“Well,” she began feebly. “I don’t have any. Real jewelry—not costume stuff.”
Sensing a story, he waited for her to continue.
“What I do have though is an envelope stuffed with pawn shop tickets. Desperate times called for desperate measures. I hocked everything—even my grandmother’s pearl earrings.” She shrugged. “A mom has to do what a mom has to do when it comes to taking care of her kid.”
Rage tore into him. If he could, he’d be teaching Darryl Tate and his unctuous, child-stealing parents a lesson or two about karma and how she’s a true bitch.
Bunch of fucking assholes.
“Don’t glower so,” she snickered. “I know it sounds awful, but I got the last laugh.”
He couldn’t see how, but he asked anyway. “How so?”
“The engagement ring Darryl gave me—purportedly a family heirloom from his dad’s side, was fake with a capital F.”
Not bothering to hide his satisfaction, he drawled, “For real?”
“Yeah. I even took it to a different pawn shop to be evaluated by a professional appraiser. He said the metal was cheap and the stones worthless. I laughed for days.”
“What happened then?”
“I sent the written appraisal to him via his folks so they’d know. I kept the ring, though. I got fifty bucks for it and used the cash to take Kori to Applebee’s for dinner. It seemed fitting since the Tates made such a big deal out of the stupid ugly ring being something to pass down.”
Holy shit. When a meal at Crapple-bee’s was a big deal, things had to be tough.
“Lady,” he drawled. “I like your style. You did what you had to do. Mad props for taking no prisoners. Fuck ‘em, right?”
In a tone dry enough to make the Sahara desert jealous, she replied, “They’re terrible people, and they got what they deserved. Kori won’t engage with them at all, and the same goes for her father. It’s not a case of her despising them, even though she does. For her, it’s about family and doing the right thing. To this day, they don’t regret what they did.”
Spreading her arms in resignation, her voice hardened. “Children grow up—they don’t stay bystanders forever. People who engage in custody battles don’t think about the blowback once the child in question gets older. Darryl’s family behaved badly. The end.”
Thoughtful silence followed. He couldn’t erase the past—not hers and not his. Therapy made him realize he didn’t want to wipe out the past. The things that happened to him—while dreadful—shaped the man he is today. He was in a good place, was comfortable in his skin, and knew who and what he was.
Rebecca’s challenging past shaped who she is today.
A soft, warm breeze ruffled her hair. When he sat forward, she looked at him.
Their conversation had turned serious. To break the vibe, he interjected some humor.
“Hey. Wanna see my art collection?”
“You have an art collection?”
“No,” he snorted laughingly. “I have bad, old-fashioned seduction lines.”
Just like that, the somber spell vanished. She guffawed and playfully pushed his shoulder.
“Bwah! I just got that!” Cracking up, she said, “Did women really fall for such shtick?”
Laughter rose from his throat. She was enchanting.
“If I did have a collection, you’d be the most beautiful piece.”
Barely controlling her laughter, she said, “I don’t know if that’s cheesy or the most romantic thing I’ve ever heard.”
He’d take either.
“Come on.” He offered his hand as he stood. “Let’s take this inside.”
Glancing at his watch, Jamie grinned. “Gotta stick to the plan.”
“There’s a plan?”
“What do you think?” he replied with a wink.
* * *
Becca tooka deep breath as warmth spread through her system. Being with Jamie was easier than she imagined. They talked. And talked. He was engaging, charming, brutally frank, wildly inappropriate at times, snarky, and wise.
She found him deep and soulful—not at all what she expected.
They were in his kitchen, loading the dishwasher. The topic was old TV shows, and her date had just confessed to Golden Girls super fandom.
In rolled-back shirt sleeves, he wiped his hands on a kitchen towel and leaned his backside against the counter.
“My sister, Nora, has been trying to get me to go with her on a Golden Girls-themed cruise. There are costume-mandatory activities, and since I’m not about to compete with the drag queens, that leaves dumb, shlub Stanley.”
In her mind’s eye, she tried to imagine the handsome alpha wearing a bald hairpiece and 80’s clothes—with a Members Only jacket.
She covered her mouth to stifle an unintentional giggle.
“Are you mocking me?” His amused expression—as if they were sharing a private joke—made her insides do funny things.
“It has to be done, Doc. Sorry.”
“I gotta say, I like how you push back.”
In the space between one moment and the next, Becca weighed her response.
“Since you brought it up, let me ask you this.” She cleared her throat and jumped off the ledge. “Is pushback something that triggers punishment? Asking for a submissive-curious friend.”
A brief shiver rolled through her when his cinnamon eyes blazed.
She felt her pulse beating in her throat.
“More research?”
Denying was so not going to happen. She’d come this far and wanted to go further.
“It’s what you want, isn’t it? For me to broaden my limited understanding?”
“How’s it going?” he asked silkily.
“Questions have been answered.” She felt warmth spread up her neck.
The look on his face made Becca’s stomach drop out. For a few seconds, she froze, totally mesmerized by what she saw in his eyes.
“I see.” He shoved off the counter and came toward her.
Engulfed by his presence, she tried to catch her breath and calm her sudden nervousness.
Standing close enough for her to feel his breath when he spoke, the tall, sexy man put a pin in this moment with what he said next.
“It tells me a lot that the first thing you comment on is punishment. Did you watch spanking videos?”
She gasped. How did he know?
He casually took her hand and led her to the living room without waiting for her response. When he sat but indicated she should remain standing, the dominant power play left her panting.
Becca was shocked to realize she wanted whatever happened next.
“A little pushback is fine. Where things get dicey is when insolence, or talking back just to be a bitch, enters the picture.”
“Well, shit, I’m screwed, huh?”
His smile was feral. “Only if you want to be.”
They stared at each other. She spoke softly, asking, “What happens next?”
“Are you telling me you want a more personal, first-hand exploration? Choose wisely, Rebecca. I’m not here for games. If you want to continue, you should know this is serious for me.”
Swallowing the panic rising in her throat, she murmured, “The genie is out of the bottle.”
“Indeed.”
Standing as still as she could while his eyes roamed over every inch of her body, she wondered where this unusual moment was headed.
“That’s a very pretty dress. Shows off your legs.”
“Thank you,” she stammered.
“Show me what’s underneath.”
“Say what?”
He smirked. “Show me. What’s underneath,” he repeated.
She froze.
“I’ve already seen you naked,” he reminded her.
Standing before him and feeling uncharacteristically wicked, she lifted the hem of her stylish red dress.
“Ah, black panties. I approve. Now take them off.”
Shocked, she gasped, “What?”
“Take them off.”
“Why?”
“Because I said so. Hurry up. I don’t have all night.”
Did she quiver at the authority in his command? Maybe a little.
“Can I request a time-out?” She needed a few seconds to think.
“No.”
Her eyes widened. She caught herself frantically chewing her bottom lip.
Jamie relaxed, leaning back and crossing one ankle over his knee.
“Rebecca.” The command in his voice triggered an avalanche of wild emotions. “Look at me.”
She swung her eyes to his—letting him see the conflict raging inside.
“Turn off the noise in your head.”
“But,” she started to say.
“No. You don’t need time to think. If you did, you wouldn’t be here. This is submission at its core. Silence the tug-of-war. You know who you are—trust that and obey.”
Oh, dear lord. Obey? The word made her mouth go dry.
“Take a deep breath,” he murmured. “And let everything go.”
Breathing deeply didn’t stop her heart from racing, but she felt calmer.
With trembling fingers, she reached under her dress and pulled the black lace panties down her legs. A whiplash of nervousness nearly contributed to her faceplanting when one of her heels got stuck in the fabric and caused her to wobble.
Smoothing the dress down to cover her bare bottom, she scrunched the panties in one hand and looked at Jamie.
“How do you feel?”
Her answer was straightforward. “Like I just bungee jumped into the unknown.”
One side of his mouth lifted. “I’m keeping the panties.”
She looked at her hand as it unfolded, the black lace scrunched into a ball, and then at him with confusion.
“My bedroom is at the end of the hallway. Go put them on my pillow.”
When she froze, he scolded her in a voice she’d never heard before.
“Hesitation is not a good move.”
Her first true glimpse of James Hunter, Dominant, gave her quite a jolt. Along with the jolt came a shocking physical response.
Obey, her inner voice purred. You know you want to.
On shaking legs, she walked away. Lurching down the hallway where his bedroom was, she entered Jamie’s room and was instantly assailed by a wave of masculinity that fueled another round of tingles.
The cat was curled on a blanket thrown on the seat of an oversized leather wing chair. When Becca came into the room, she raised her head but stayed put.
An enormous king-size bed dominated the space. The wood four-poster design looked manly and solid—like the man who slept in it.
Determining which side he preferred was easy due to what she saw on the nightstand.
Muting the chatter in her brain, she met her first submissive challenge with unexpected poise.
Before exiting the bedroom, she looked back at the scrap of black lying on Jamie’s pillow.
When she returned to the living room, he’d barely moved.