Chapter 14
THE CAR MADE THE TURN off Canal and headed toward the Garden District.
I tried to justify taking Alexandra to my house, but even I wasn’t that good of a liar.
The club was too overtly sexual, her studio would make it too easy for her to fall into old patterns, I couldn’t keep trying to feed her—the baby bird thing wouldn’t work more than once with Alex.
Honestly, it hadn’t worked all that well the first time.
To varying degrees, it was all true. And a complete load of bullshit.
I was taking her to my house because I wanted her there.
I wanted to see what it felt like with her smart-ass energy filling my space, to smell the delicate floral of her perfume mixing with the sandalwood and sage scent of the old plantation house I’d inherited from my mother, who’d inherited it from husband number three.
“Are you sure we have time for whatever you’ve got planned? Don’t you lawyers have to work all the time?”
Alexandra feigned disinterest and I smiled to myself. She clearly lived by the best defense is a good offense motto. The more nervous she got, the more bravado she wore. I could tell by the way her gaze tracked my movements and her pulse raced under my thumb that she was nervous.
“I can go back tonight to finish anything I need to. If you’re worried about the length of our session, I’d be happy to pay for the extra time.”
I had no trouble throwing money at problems, but we were going to have to come to some kind of resolution to the financial situation we were in.
I wanted her submission willingly given, not paid for.
And every time we traded money, we slid further into escort territory—a place I was pretty sure neither of us wanted to go.
“No, you have time left. You haven’t exactly taxed me up to this point.”
I caught and held her gaze, seeing what I hoped was anticipation in her eyes. She was nervous, but she was also interested. That was something I could work with.
“I’ll see what I can do about that,” I said and had the pleasure of watching her cheeks flush a rosy pink. Her skin blushed beautifully. I couldn’t wait to color her ass with my hand.
“This is your house?” The disbelief in her tone dragged me away from the fucking spectacular image in my head, the one where she stretched out naked over my lap, her breasts bouncing against my thigh as I spanked her round ass.
“Not what you pictured?” I searched her profile as she leaned toward the window to take in the massive white painted facade with the two-story-tall Doric columns flanking the entrance.
I could appreciate the beauty of the majestic old house but even after all these years, it still didn’t feel like home.
I’d never lived there with my mother. I’d been off to law school by the time my mother married number three.
His family was part of the old South, and the house had been in his family since before the Civil War.
I think my mother loved the house more than she loved him, but they seemed happy together, on the surface at least. My mother rarely went deeper than that with anything.
Unlike my father and husband number one, the last guy had been good to her and that’s all I’d had to care about anyway.
When he’d died and she followed, the big old house had come to me.
It was when I was up for partner and the grandeur of the place became another prop for me to use.
It looked like the home of a partner in one of the most important law firms in New Orleans.
I’d taken on the house the same way I donned my custom-made suits, playing the role until it was mine.
“I guess I’d assumed you were more of a modern loft kind of guy.
This is so beautiful. When I first moved to the city, I used to walk from Magazine to St. Charles, looking at all the gorgeous houses and wondering what kind of people actually lived there.
I’d never have guessed it was you.” She smiled over her shoulder at me and despite her credulity—hell, maybe because of it—her enthusiasm was contagious.
“Come on. I’ll give you a tour.”
I opened my door and hurried around to her side of the car, waving away the driver when I got there. It was suddenly very important for me to be the one to help her out of the car and lead her to my front door.
I wanted to see her reaction to my space. I rarely brought women I was seriously interested in there. I’d rarely been seriously interested in a woman, so it wasn’t exactly a hardship. Not until Julie and no one since.
“I don’t suppose you’ve ever considered opening the house up for the Garden District Home Tour, have you?”
“Good Lord, no.”
The last thing I wanted was a stream of strangers parading through my home, even if it was for a good cause.
I’d much rather write a sizeable check and be done with it.
Disappointment shaped her expression and I wondered why she cared so much.
Before I could ask, the look was gone and we only had one room left.
It was the spare bedroom I’d converted into a playroom back when I still thought Julie and I would be able to make things work.
The room was small—nothing of the scale of Alex’s studio—and intimate.
Although I wasn’t sure if that was inherent to the space or my history with it.
Up until that moment, I hadn’t thought about sharing it with anyone else.
The few times I’d played recently had been at Bacchus.
I expected to connect the space with Julie and shocked the hell out of myself when I didn’t.
I debated not showing the space to Alex, but I wanted to see her reaction. To see if she’d blush again.
“I’m not sure how I’d explain this to the organizers,” I said, keying in the entry code and ushering her into the room.
I studied her as her gaze took in the deep-blue walls and dark furnishings made up of a rough wooden St. Andrew’s Cross and padded bench.
Alex wrapped her hand around the square stock of the four-poster bed I’d had custom made for the space.
Its sturdy frame and hidden rings offered all kinds of opportunities and I started picturing the way Alex would look stretched out for me across the silver-blue comforter.
I watched as she moved around the room, her fingers tracing the wood.
She was a chameleon for so much of the time, only showing what she intended to project, but in less guarded moments, she wore her thoughts and feelings on her face for anyone willing to pay attention to see.
I planned to pay attention to everything where Alex was concerned.
“You could always leave the door locked. They let owners do that when they don’t want people in certain rooms.”
It took me a second to realize she was talking about the home tour again. It didn’t make sense. As far as I knew, she didn’t have any connection with the Historical Society.
“I’m not interested in having my house included on the tour, Alex.”
“You might change your mind.”
“I won’t,” I said, holding the door to the hallway open for her.
“You don’t want to stay in here?”
Her forehead creased down the center, and I let go of the door for a moment to step closer to her. Her eyes were wide and uncharacteristically unsure. I could see the pulse racing at the base of her throat.
“Want has nothing to do with it,” I said, invading her space until she had to decide whether to take a step back or press her body against mine.
I felt her breasts skim my chest, her nipples hard peaks under the delicate silk and lace.
She wanted me. She wanted this. However it may have started out, it wasn’t about the money or the challenge anymore.
This thing—whatever we decided to call it—was already about much more than that.
I smoothed my thumb over the line in her forehead and watched her brown eyes go dark.
“I want to strip off your clothes, stretch your naked body out on the St. Andrew’s Cross and take a leather-tipped cat to your ass until you’re so wet, your thighs glisten.
I want to suck your nipples so hard they stretch to tight peaks, perfect for me to attach clips to and then I want to work your belly and thighs over with the flogger until every inch of your skin comes to life.
I want to pull the clips off with my teeth and suckle your aching nipples while I finger fuck you to your third or fourth orgasm.
I want to make you come so many times you get hoarse from screaming my name. ”
Her eyes were dilated, and I could see her chest rise and fall with each shallow breath she took.
She licked her lips and only my resolve not to let her top from the bottom kept me from tugging it between my teeth and catching her needy little cries with my mouth while I gave us both what we needed.
“Why don’t you?” Her voice trembled but the set of her shoulders was more of a dare than a submission. “We seem to spend a lot more time talking than naked.”
“It’s going to stay that way until you understand—really understand—that you have all the power in this exchange.
None of this means anything until you can actually surrender to me.
Not for money and not on a dare. Not because you’re weak.
I know you’re not. You need to have power to give it.
Because you trust me to take the power you give me and use it for both of our pleasure.
” I ran a hand through my hair, not bothering to hide my frustration.
My cock was so hard it ached. Painting the picture for her with my words had affected me as much, if not more.
I wanted her with a hunger that bordered on desperation.
But I knew from experience anything other than genuine surrender would leave me less satisfied than if I never touched her.
“I’m scared.”
“I know, beautiful. That’s part of the point.
Anything real that exposes that much of your soul is scary, but it’s also worth it.
I’m not going to push. Not yet. Not until you’re certain you can be honest with both of us.
” I cupped her face, loving the way she turned in to my touch, resting her cheek against my palm. “We’ll get there. Don’t worry.”
“I was just...” She let the rest of what she’d been about to say fall away.
I tipped up her chin, forcing her to meet my gaze. “Just what, Alexandra?”
“Never mind. I’m curious; that’s all.”
“That’s honest. What are you curious about?
” My cock throbbed against the zipper of my too-tight slacks.
I swear to God, I was tempted to step out for a moment to jerk off and relieve some of the pressure so I could actually think clearly.
But I had a feeling nothing would change the state of my cock as long as Alex was in my house.
“About the flogger.” She swallowed, and I forced my focus to stay on her eyes and not her gorgeous lips. “I’ve never had anyone who actually knew what they were doing use a flogger. On me.”
Fuck me.
“And you’ve decided I do?” I called on every bit of training I had to keep from letting my emotions influence what she was telling me. Which was fucking impossible, given how much I wanted what I thought she was offering me.
“With the way you’ve been able to mind fuck me using nothing more than your voice, a tie and some tea? Yes, I’m pretty sure you know your way around a flogger. I can’t promise I’ll be any good at submitting, but I can promise to be honest with you and to try. I want to try.”
I debated for a fraction of a second as I watched the emotions play across her beautiful face.
This woman pushed me past the point of reason.
My limits didn’t seem to matter where she was concerned.
It was the glimpse of curiosity and, even more, the hope I saw in her expression that made the decision for me.
I took a step back and let my gaze trace a path from her face to her toes and back again.
By the time I reached her eyes again, her lips were parted and her cheeks flushed.
“Strip, Alexandra.”