Fortune by Annabel Joseph (ebook reader for comics TXT) 📕

activity around him continued but he stopped and stared. She was wearing a gorgeous, fitted dress with embroidery, and her hair was up in a loose chignon with tendrils of curls falling down in spirals against her face. She was beautifully made-up, with deep red lips that drew his gaze and made him think terribly inappropriate thoughts there in the living room of her parents’ home.

He met her at the bottom of the stairs and took her hand. “You look gorgeous,” he whispered. As usual, she shied away when he brushed a kiss against her cheek. She smelled like flowers and vanilla sugar. He barely restrained himself from licking her in front of her mother and father.

“Thank you. You’re looking pretty good yourself.”

He looked down at his crisp white shirt and navy jacket. Just another male clod ready to sacrifice himself at the altar of feminine beauty and allure.

“Come on, let’s go. We have reservations.”

At the restaurant, she sat stiffly across from him. It was an upscale place, the type with a lot of silverware and glassware on the table and no prices on the menu. She toyed with her napkin in her lap, looking almost mournful.

“You know, you didn’t have to do this,” she said.

“Do what?”

“Bring me here. Drop a lot of money on me.”

He frowned, glancing up at her over the menu. “I do what I want with you. That’s how D/s relationships work. If I want to bring you to a fancy restaurant and show you off to everyone, I will.”

The compliment didn’t seem to register. She frowned back at him. “Are you going to tell me what I can and can’t eat here too? Or just at diners?”

He didn’t rise to the bait, maintaining a fond and relaxed demeanor as he closed his menu. “I believe I’ll order for us both.”

“What if I don’t like what you order?”

“You’ll either go hungry or choke it down. But everything is very good here.”

She closed her menu and handed it to him with a touch of pique. “I’m sure it is.”

He continued to watch her. He could see the internal struggle, the desire to enjoy herself and let him take care of her warring with her desire to protect her independence at all costs. He leaned forward, gazing at her over the candlelight.

“I brought you here to make you feel special. I want you to understand that I’m not just out to use you.” The waiter brought wine and Ryan ordered, crusted salmon for himself and citrus chicken for Kat. After the waiter left, he looked back at her. “You should know, Kat, that I won’t let you use me either.”

“I have no intention of using you.”

“Good. We’re on the same page then.”

“This is just a lot of trouble and expense to go to for a blowjob.”

“Kat,” he warned.

“Especially when it probably won’t be a very good one.”

The “probably” encouraged him at least. “We’ll see. As much as I’d like to continue talking about the lessons I plan to give you later, it’s not appropriate dinner conversation. Let’s talk about something else. Like how beautiful your hair looks by candlelight.”

“You’re a romantic.”

“Yes.”

“I’m not.”

“Do we have anything at all in common, do you think?” he asked in exasperation. “Maybe we should just throw in the towel.”

“I’m sorry. I just don’t feel comfortable here.”

“I know. That’s part of why I brought you here. I’ll enjoy making you do things you’re not quite comfortable with. It’s a big part of how I get off.”

“Why?”

“It’s a power thing. What can I make you do? How far can I push you? What will I do when you balk? Not to mention the fact that when you’re off balance, you need me more than when you’re in control.”

She didn’t reply but she was breathing notably faster. She took a small sip of wine and he watched her lick her lips, look sideways and then down. Her neck was beautiful, slender and graceful. She felt frightened but she was trying to hide it. Cornered prey. Beautiful Russian doll. He was wild to have her by the time the waiter brought the check.

Chapter Five

On the way to his house after dinner, Kat sat beside him feeling nervous, watching his long, forceful fingers on the gearshift. He pulled up to a neat little two-story colonial and led her to a small porch on the side. She fidgeted while he dug for keys, looking down at the design on the woven welcome mat. She thought his house was kind of smallish, but most Cambridge houses were.

He flipped on the lights when they entered and Kat blinked, looking around. So bland and orderly, sterile like an operating room and so quiet compared to her busy home. Of course, he was just a single guy, while her home was overflowing with way too many people. She turned at the soft touch on the small of her back. He had touched her that same way the first time they spoke up on the balcony. She had never imagined, back then…

“Are you thirsty? Can I get you anything?”

“I’m fine. Could I use your bathroom?”

“Sure.” He led her down the hall to the bathroom, which she fully intended to explore and analyze. She shut the door and peed, all the while looking around to see what she could glean. Tidy. Nice sparkling shower stall. He obviously had a maid. She stealthily opened the medicine cabinet. No scary prescription drugs, just condoms and ibuprofen. She closed it silently and looked in the mirror. Are you ready to do this? She was somewhat uneasy about all the submissive business. Uneasy and yet curious. And hot.

“Okay?” he asked when she came out.

“Yes, I’m fine.”

“Come here.”

She walked over to him and he started, without prelude, to take off her clothes. He did it casually, with no words between them, just his dark gaze focused on the task of stripping her. He took off her dress, her shoes, her tights, until she stood