Without A Trace: Inside The Lines Part 6

I preen under his compliment. "I can be. I take it you liked it?"

"Verra much. When's it my turn?"

"What do you mean?"

"When do I get to tie ye up and torture ye? Seems only fair."

I laugh. "Uh, no."

He leans back on the bed, propping himself up on one arm. "Why not?" He asks it without menace, but my hackles go up regardless.

"Because I'm a dominant woman, and I'm like that in the bedroom one hundred percent of the time." I wriggle off the bed, putting away my tools, which conveniently ensures I don't have to look at him. This is why you don't take on newbies, I chide myself harshly. So you don't have to deal with these kinds of questions. If I'm being honest-what is that I hear? My conscience laughing at me?-there's more to it than my protests...though I barely admit it to myself. The air has cooled, causing gooseb.u.mps on my naked skin.

I'm vaguely aware of his movements, but it still takes me a little off guard when he slides his hands around my waist, gently nudging me back against him. His body radiates heat, and he eases my slight chill. "Have ye never tried?" His breath brushes against my ear, his voice soft.

I would prefer not to answer, but he's been nothing but honest and accepting so far. I let down my guard a hair. "No, I haven't. I know I wouldn't like it," I say in a low tone.

He holds me, rests his chin against the top of my head. "If ye'd ever be up to the challenge, I'd love to see ye just as I was, spread wide and naked." His hand trails down, finding just the right spot between my legs where I'm still taut from o.r.g.a.s.m. "I'd love to push my c.o.c.k into ye, feel yer liquid heat, knowing ye could do nothing more than lie back and enjoy." He turns me and kneels down. "And I'd use my mouth on ye, love." He spreads my legs, and I lean back against the footboard of the bed. "Giving ye pleasure ye'd be unable to refuse." His hot tongue finds me immediately, his fingers plunging deep inside me. He slides my thigh over his shoulder, giving him even greater access as he slides yet another finger into the rhythm. The fullness is so incredible, and I can't stop the cries of pleasure from echoing in the room as he laves my c.l.i.t. My fingers sink into his hair, holding him against me as my release grips me and fireworks explode behind my eyelids.

I sag against the bed, spent, and he returns to his feet, taking me back into his arms. "Do ye think ye might be willing to let me try? I think ye might enjoy it more than ye think."

And I'm shocked to hear myself say: "I'll think about it."

Chapter 12.

Divine Accommodations A week later, Noah and I meet Ella and Ian at our favorite restaurant in the Village: a small Italian dive that has the best marsala you'll ever taste. Fin had to work late tonight, and I was caught between sad and thankful. We've seen each other almost every night, and while it's taking a toll on our sleep patterns-particularly his, as he has to be at a barn twenty miles outside the city by six a.m. to start work-we haven't minded. While I want to introduce him to my friends, there's a part of me that likes having this separate part of my life that is just me.

Ella, who usually glows despite exhaustion, has circles under her eyes. Ian hovers over her a bit, and I eye her closely. "Are you getting sick?"

She shakes her head, then leans against Ian's solid shoulder. "No, I'm just beat. We've had what-four? Five?-parties in the last three days. Between that, my baby who depends on me for sustenance 24/7, and his stepdad's heart attack, it's been a week."

"Wait, what happened to your stepdad?" I look at Ian. Always handsome and elegant, even his usual easy smile seems to have a few cracks around the edges.

"It happened two days ago. He'll be fine, as it was minor with no permanent damage. He's been working too hard, as we've all been telling him. But he doesn't listen. This was his wakeup call." He rubs the back of Ella's neck as she turns her face towards him for a kiss.

"I'm so sorry-that had to be terrifying."

He sighs. "It was, but he's going to be okay."

I nod, but I'm surprised Ella didn't tell me.

Even tired, she senses my question. "I barely had time to get to the hospital in between parties and the kids."

"It's okay. I can see you're beat. You know I can help if you need anything."

She laughs. "Right, between whipping a.s.ses and the new man on the scene? Where would you have time?" She raises an eyebrow at me.

"I always make time for my friends." My cheeks warm. "I see someone's been telling tales." I glare at Noah.

Noah holds up his hands. "You never said I couldn't tell her about the new s.e.xy on your whipping post."

I roll my eyes and chuckle. "s.e.xy is right." I look at Ella. "He's the guy on that billboard in Times Square for Monsieur."

Her mouth forms an "O" of surprise. "You mean the hot redhead with the fabulous a.s.s?"

Ian smirks at Noah. "And they say we men are terrible."

Noah smiles. "I've lived with both of them. I can a.s.sure you that they are both just as bad as, if not worse than, us."

I snort. "Whatever, Mr. I-Date-at-Least-Four-Women-a-Month."

"'Date' is such a misleading word."

I nearly spit out my vodka and soda. "At least you're honest."

Ella clears her throat loudly. "Back to the important subject at hand: so tell me more. Name, age, height, pedigree?"

"Fin; twenty-three; six-four, maybe? And he's Scottish, a afootballer,' currently interning as a horse trainer, and wants to study to be a veterinarian."

She whistles softly. "Wow. I'd definitely have me some of that, t'were I in your position. And he's younger, eh? Better stamina."

I nod as Ian laughs. "You are incorrigible, Mrs. Cane."

"Hm. We'll see how incorrigible you think I am later tonight," she teases as her arm moves beneath the table.

"Hey, you two. Get. A. Room. I'm the baby here, and you might ruin my innocence." Noah holds his napkin over his eyes.

"Younger by two freakin' months," I point out as we're both twenty-eight, but at this point, we're all laughing.

Noah gives me a pointed look. "Are you going to tell them your other awesome news?"

Ella's eyes light up as she and Ian look expectantly at me.

I wasn't keeping it a secret, but I wasn't sure if I was ready to admit it was real, either. So I inhale deeply before the words tumble out. "Well, it was rumor up until today. But I got the official word from Divine, Inc. earlier today-they own Paddled as well as a couple of s.e.x clubs in L.A. and Chicago," I explain as my stomach jumps at the idea of saying my news out loud, "they want to invest in Kinked."

"Congratulations!" Ella jumps out of her chair to hug me. "This is so awesome! I told you it would rock."

Ian embraces me as well. "Very happy for you, Lux."

Once again seated, Ella digs out her phone. "My best friend, entrepreneur, and business owner of the hottest new international dating site...smile for the camera, Ms. Trace."

I make a fish face, and she snaps the photo.

"This calls for champagne." Ian signals the waiter, and within minutes, we're toasting.

"To your hard work and success," Noah says, and we all join in with "salute" and clink gla.s.ses.

As I sip the sharp, fruity champagne, two emotions race though my veins: giddy excitement and jittery fear. But for once, the excitement is stronger.

Ella meets my gaze across the table, her smile of pride a boon to my nerves. "You're going to rock this, lady."

I nod and hold my gla.s.s out to hers again. "Agreed."

The downside to getting investors? s.h.i.+t gets real.

For the next two days, I spend day and night with Noah, fine-tuning my business plan in order to submit a final version to Divine, Inc.'s accounting and marketing departments, as well as to the CEO. I advertise on freelance and free posting sites for coding and website experts, graphic designers, and internet dating consultants.

"How are you going to pay for this?" Noah asks as I receive responses to my ads and price quotes.

"Since I don't yet have any paperwork from Divine, with my savings. Do you mind if I don't pay the rent for the next six months?" I tease.

He grins. "I can take out your rent in other ways."

"Hm." I look at him appraisingly. "I can totally whip your a.s.s and have you begging for release in five minutes flat."

With a laugh, he nods. "You'd definitely have me begging-for you to stop." He s.h.i.+vers. "I'm definitely not into pain."

"Don't knock it atil you try it, Storm."

He looks mildly afraid, but then he sobers. "Lux, if you need to skip a few month's rent, that's fine. Seriously. I can pay for everything on my own."

I shake my head. "No. I'll figure it out. But thanks."

The cost estimates are broad, ranging from ouch to yowie, and I'm not even sure I know what to look for, but I pa.r.s.e out the information, using my knowledge of spreadsheets gleaned from a few years as an account manager before my Dominatrix days.

By the end of the next week, I've interviewed and selected a handful of designers and coders to work on the website, and I've got meetings scheduled for the next three months with Divine, Inc.'s marketing team. I make an appointment with Divine's project manager for Kinked to sign the final paperwork. I should be elated. And I am...mostly. But there's still a part of me that cautions: you've never done anything like this. You could be a total failure. Who do you think you are, to take on a project this large, interfere with the love lives of people, and then expect to make a living?

I try to ignore it, to push away the negative thoughts, but I'd be lying if I said I was confident. I want this. I do. But what if I fail?

Fin asks me out for, of all things, bowling. I've long since clipped my nails short, as any amount of computer work puts a stop to my s.e.xy, long nails. It doesn't matter, though-I'm a horrible bowler. Fin refuses to believe me until after our first game where I can count more gutter b.a.l.l.s than points.

"Ye're terrible," he finally agrees in disbelief.

I sit back in the molded chair, grinning. "Told you. Worst. Bowler. Evah." I own the t.i.tle quite happily.

"Do ye want me to help ye a bit?" He's so baffled by my complete inability, he stares at me in awe.

"Nope. I'm not that into it. But I'm happy to let you whip my a.s.s...here." I wink and take a sip of my soda.

He reaches for my hands, pulling me to my feet and kissing me soundly. "Aye. But I'd rather do it elsewhere," he teases.

How on earth is this turning me on? Yet it is, and I refuse to contemplate it further. "Keep dreaming, MacKenzie." I punctuate my response by nibbling his bottom lip, then tracing it with my tongue.

When we finally separate, he clears his throat. "Well, I've no wish to keep beating ye here. What else would ye like to do?"

We're both dressed casually, and my jeans are getting more wear than typical. I'm also saving on makeup costs, as I enjoy being a bit more bare-faced around Fin. There's something about him that puts me at ease, and I don't mind looking younger and less edgy. Usually I hate that I look barely legal-hard to garner much respect that way. With Fin...it's different. He makes me feel like it doesn't matter. Which brings up all sorts of uncomfortable questions that I don't want to deal with.

"We could go home and find fun things to do." I link my hands behind his neck. "We can even stop by the s.e.x shop on our way back to see if we find something fun to enjoy."

His eyes widen. "A s.e.x shop? I canna say I've ever been to one."

I lean back in his arms, face to the ceiling. "You are such an innocent!" Then I smile at him. "I feel like I'm Mrs. Robinson, debauching her young lover."

"I'm willing to be corrupted, Mistress." He nuzzles my neck, finding the spot to nip with his teeth that sends my hormones soaring.

"Then I shall lead on, my little lamb. Into the lion's den we go."

Shay's s.e.xy Suite is anything but a lion's den. Fas.h.i.+onably decorated with soft, reddish pink chintz and white velvet, it screams girly good times, rather than s.e.xual depravity. Shay burns a light incense in the back, which, when combined with whatever strawberry fragrance she uses out front, creates a welcoming patina for the senses. Fin is, as usual, completely at ease, his fascination with the array of elegant toys on display refres.h.i.+ng. h.e.l.l, I could just watch him walk around the room and get turned on.

In the "back room," the decor turns dark and moody, but still with a feminine vibe. Here, Shay sells the heavier s.e.x items, like expert canes and whips that are hand-crafted by artisans from all over the world. Fin loses himself in examination of crops, and I wander over to the leatherwear.

When I feel a light hand on my shoulder, I turn in surprise.

"Mistress Hathaway!" Ari practically leaps into my arms with enthusiasm. "So good to see you." She busses my cheek lightly, then steps back in sudden shyness. "This is my friend, Bryant."

A dark-haired man steps up beside her, built nearly as pet.i.te as she is, though he stands a head taller than her. "Nice to meet you, Mistress. Ari's told me a lot about you."

I take his hand in a firm shake. "Good to meet you as well." Ari's glowing with happiness, and Bryant seems smitten. "You look happy, my dear. I'm glad to see it."

"Oh, I so am. Thanks to you." Her light skin flushes, and she glances over when Fin approaches. "Oh, wow. Hi! I didn't know you two were a couple."

Ah, the moment of truth. "Fin, you remember Ari, I'm sure. Bryant, Fin."

The difference between the two men is particularly obvious as Bryant's slim hand gets lost in Fin's. If Bryant knows who Fin is, or how recently he had s.e.x with Ari, he doesn't let on.

We engage in the requisite small talk, but Ari and Bryant are clearly into each other and want to get going. Ari follows Bryant out after we've said goodbye, but after a moment, she returns and pulls me aside.

"Bryant is nothing like the guys I told you about before. I've known him for years, but I never had the guts to act on his interest." She hugs me again. "Thank you so much." Her eyes s.h.i.+ne with joy.

I drop a kiss on her forehead. "You are very welcome. I'm glad you're happy. He seems like a keeper."

She nods, then casts a sly glance over at Fin. "So does he. I'm happy for you, too."

We exchange grins, and my heart feels lighter as I watch her nearly skip out of the room towards her lover. I slip behind Fin and thread my arms around his waist. "Watch'ya looking at?" I peer around his shoulder.

He's handling a rubber flogger handmade from recycled bike tires, according to the description on the price tag. I crane my neck to see his expression, amused when I discover something between horror and fascination there.

"You thinking you'd like to give that a whirl?" I tease.

He doesn't say anything, just lays it back out on its display pad. His arm circles my waist, drawing me against his side, and then he whispers, "I'd be begging for death."

I laugh. "Only if your lover doesn't do it right. It's not as bad as it looks." I glance back at the flogger. "Well, maybe that one is. But we'll stick with the fun stuff." I wink at him, and we return to the front.