Dungeon Time (Play at Work) (5 page)

She worked in Long Beach, but Seal Beach was her playground.

A flickering thought passed through her mind while she waited for the manager to answer her knock. Perhaps Mr. Masters wanted to seduce her. But she laughed the idea away. A man like him, wealthy and powerful—and so handsome—didn’t need someone like her for sex. He could have all the pretty, polished women he wanted.

Out of ideas, she clutched her key and stared up the long flights of wooden steps. Even with help, unloading would be a massive undertaking. She’d been afraid to pack anything until she broke the news to her parents. After the shouting match the night before, she’d crammed
her belongings in her car, without care. She preferred order, and she couldn’t wait to get everything where it belonged.

A mess
. In garbage bags and suitcases and on hangers. Mr. Masters didn’t strike her as the type to appreciate sloppy habits either. She shrugged.
Nothing to be done except try to haul up the worst of it before he gets here
. She didn’t know where he lived, but it would take time to go home to change. Maybe she could stuff it all in the closets before he arrived. His good opinion mattered to her—for reasons she tried not to think too hard about.

He had the most mesmerizing brown eyes….

Grabbing an armload from the car, she mounted the rickety stairs and let herself in. Home, all her own. No brothers and sisters and parents scrambling over one another in a four bedroom place meant for far fewer than the mother, father, six children, and Nonna who occupied it. At least her leaving would make more room for the others.

Six hundred square feet—all hers.

“Nice place you have here.”

She jumped. “You scared me! How on earth did you get here so fast?”

Mr. Masters took her arm and moved her out of the doorway, joining her in the single living area of her new studio. “A coincidence. I live two blocks away.”

She had moved to a good neighborhood. But her elbow tingled where he’d touched her, and she licked her lips, searching for a way to be normal. “No pizza?”

He laughed. “Hungry?”

More than hungry, I’m starving. But not for pizza.
Giovanni, her ex, had never caused her to dampen her panties just by touching her arm. Their lovemaking had been okay, but she’d wondered if things could be better. They were
much
better in books. Of course those were stories, fiction. Not real life.

“Going to set those clothes down somewhere?” Mr. Masters had changed to worn jeans and a
tucked in black T-shirt that outlined the muscles on his chest and revealed his trim waist. His biceps bulged, and she curled her hands to avoid reaching out to trace them. His elegant suits disguised so much about his physique.

Her nipples peaked under her blouse, again, and this time his heated gaze lay on her chest. Her breathing quickened. Maybe he did want to seduce her. Why he’d consider an ordinary woman like her, even for a quick affair, she had no idea. Perhaps it was time she explored her options. Her co-workers seemed to have a new guy in their beds every month. Maybe she should join the twenty-first century and enjoy herself. For once.

Her mother’s stern face imposed itself in her imagination, but she shoved her back and said the flirtiest thing she could think of—a line from a movie she’d seen the week before. “My eyes are up here.”

His attention shifted to her face, and his jaw dropped. She questioned her daring. He quirked an eyebrow. For a long moment she waited, afraid he’d leave and never come back.

And she didn’t want that. Not just because with his help she’d have half as many trips up the stairs with her belongings. No, because her world warmed with him in it. Dreams she’d never dared entertain while awake flooded her thoughts.

He cupped her chin and drew nearer. “And lovely brown eyes they are.”

Anna held her breath while he dropped a kiss on each eyelid and her nose.

“I didn’t mean to offend you.” He stepped back and left her unsteady on her feet. “You were right to call me on it. Let’s get your things put away then I can order pizza here or, since I don’t see a dining room table anywhere, maybe have it delivered to my house.”

Holy shit! His place.

Anna’s response left him out of his element. She trembled under his touch in a way none of the experienced subs, drunk on endorphins, ever did.
So sweet
. What would she do if he tumbled her to the rug and unbuttoned that prim white blouse, unhooked her bra…bared her breasts? Would she moan when he worked her nipple with his fingers, sucked it between his lips?

He’d shock her.

“Give me your keys and I’ll go get some of your things.” He took the key chain from her limp fingers and headed outside, anxious to get space between them. Anna was not a bit of fluff for one night. She was his dream girl. A picture popped into his mind: Anna, with her pert, heart-shaped face, dwelling in his home, sitting at the dinner table, caring for a baby.

Eyes on the prize.
He could get a woman in his bed any day. Anna was a keeper.

And while he’d have to share his history, first he needed to court her. Wine and dine her. Bring her flowers. Seduce her. Romantically. Without the whips and floggers and other implements he usually employed as signs of his affection. A perfect woman like Anna only came along once in a lifetime.

He filled his arms with her belongings and toiled up and down the steps, over and over. After the second trip, he insisted she stay inside and start putting things away. After the fifth, he paused outside on the landing, the sweat dripping into his eyes making them sting. His shortness of breath was a reminder of how close he was to missing an important part of life. If he waited much longer to have a family, he’d be too old to keep up with them. He slowed his pace, but continued until her car was empty.

Dropping to the carpet, he rested his aching back against the wall and stretched his arms over his head. Anna bustled back and forth, tucking things in the closets and kitchen cabinets, her step so light, he was glad he’d done the heavy work for her.
Darn near heroic.

Still, there would be more to do. “When is your furniture coming?”

“I don’t have any yet. I kept a hope chest as a teenager, or I wouldn’t have a thing to get started with. But I still need to buy some more pots and pans and, oh, I don’t know what all.”

Her beaming face gladdened his heart. “Where will you sleep?”

She gave a little bounce. “You have to see this! One of the reasons I fell in love with the apartment.” Anna opened a closet and tugged on a strap. A Murphy bed dropped to stand on the carpet. Full sized.

Not promising for the two of them—he needed at a king-size for his six-foot-three inch frame.

“I can see the ocean from my bed, look.” She hopped on the mattress and craned her neck. “A little, anyway, and think how pretty on foggy days.”

Edward grinned at her enthusiasm. If she liked this view, what would she think of his place down the road? And even if the bed were a little small, if she invited him to share it, he’d make d
o. “Would you like me help you make it up now? So you can just hop in when I bring you back after pizza.”

She blushed—
again.
Lovely.
“Oh, no, I can do it myself, really. And you must be starving after all your hard work.” At some point, she’d changed from her work clothes to a round-necked pink T-shirt that outlined her full, high breasts and blue jeans. Her feet were bare, toes polished bright red. With dark curls framing her sparkling eyes and flushed cheeks, Anna was the single most alluring woman he’d ever had the pleasure to encounter. His cock, at bay while he played pack mule, reasserted itself, stretching to full length inside his pants.

If I don’t get out of here and
far from that bed, I am going to do or say something that will scare her away. Like beg to take her here and now in every way I know how.
Which amounted to quite a few ways.

“Okay.” He rose to his feet, suppressing a groan. “
Let’s go have dinner. If you’d rather not go to my house, we can eat in a restaurant.” Did one take a nice girl to his lair on their first date? And had he left anything out that might shock her? A flogger maybe? No, his overzealous neatness had its benefits from time to time. His main living areas would be kink free.

“
I can’t thank you enough for everything.” She grabbed her purse and keys then paused. “I’ll probably come right back afterwards and get out from under your feet. I’m beat.”

She
was tired? Every one of his muscles sent him a message that forty wasn’t twenty-five no matter how hard he worked out. He made a mental note to add the stair climber to his routine. If he planned to court a woman in a third-floor walkup, he needed to build endurance. Would she wear him out in bed? It had been so long since he’d had vanilla sex, he hardly knew what to expect.

Anna
locked the door behind them, pocketing her keys with a smile.

“My very own place. Don’t laugh at me. I’m a real rebel in my family.”

“I would never laugh.” He rested his hands on her shoulders and looked down at her happy face. “I’m glad you got such a nice apartment, and I couldn’t ask for a nicer neighbor.”

“I’m so glad to know someone close by. It makes me feel much safer.”

Safer…from the Dom in neighbor’s clothing. He shrugged the flash of guilt aside. It wasn’t as if he intended to cuff her to the wall and flog her. Unless she asked him to. All his best resolutions were tumbling before her sexy smile.

Traipsing down the sidewalk beside Mr. Masters, Anna thought she’d fallen into a dream. Until today, she’d lived at home, eaten her dinner under the earnest stare of her mother and father, accompanied by the bickering of her sisters and brothers, and with few exceptions, lived the life her family expected of her.

Typical of their neighborhood—the eldest daughter waiting for Prince Charming to take her away to a starter home on the hill and start making babies.

But twenty-four hours later, she had her own apartment and a date.
Oh it is not a date. Just a nice man, a friend of the boss’s, feeding me pizza and helping me move.
Because big shot executives always helped receptionists carry their clothes and dishes up three flights of stairs and bought them dinner.

The ocean breeze blew her curls around her face, and she kicked at the sand skittering across the concrete. Her place faced the beach. It seemed his was
on
it. Which made sense. She sought a conversational topic then glanced at him and let it go. They were both tired. She would head back home after she ate and get some sleep so she could rise early and go buy furniture. She hadn’t lived at home for free—children paying rent unheard of in their family—for all these years without accumulating some savings. Her parents had expected it to go toward the down payment on a house when she married, and maybe to help with the wedding. Although they saved for her, with such a big family, it would be hard to manage them all.

She wouldn’t spend everything
she’d saved. But she did want a couch and a small dining table and a few other things. The rest would have to stay in the bank. A flower store didn’t come cheap.

“This is it.” Edward pushed a gate open and stood back, allowing her to enter first.

She blinked. “It’s a cottage.” The short brick path with rose bushes on either side could have been in the English countryside. Leaded glass windows bracketed a heavy, arched door of dark wood that could have come from a fairy tale. Vines with purple trumpet blossoms climbed the gray stone walls. “This doesn’t look like a beach house.” Old roses in every color possible bloomed at the edges of the small, velvet-green yard. Their scent hung in the air, pushing back the ocean’s salty scent.

He laughed, white teeth gleaming in the porch light. “It doesn’t, does it? I wanted the best of both worlds, the old country and the new.
But I can’t take credit for the garden. A very talented gardener comes by twice a week.” Unlocking the door, he reached inside and flipped a switch. “Come on in, and I’ll order our pizza.”

“These are amazing roses. They remind me of my mother’s garden. I miss tending it already.”
Anna followed him into a high-ceilinged room, furnished with leather couches and full bookshelves. A wall of windows at the back drew her, and the house’s size became apparent. The cottage facade did not reveal the extensive lower level reaching well out onto the beach. A surfboard leaned against the outside wall of a pool deck. She couldn’t imagine the stuffy Edward Masters surfing, but it made her more comfortable to try. “You have a nice home.”

Edward closed the door with a soft click and approached, Nikes squeaking on the wide oak boards. “I like my comforts.” He stood just behind her, his breath soft on her cheek. “Did you want to take a swim
in the pool? The water is warm.”

She shivered, something about the way he said “warm,” implying so much more. “I don’t have a suit with me.”

“Perhaps another time.” He rested his hands on the sill, on either side of her, smooth muscled forearms with a light sprinkling of dark hairs drawing her complete attention, but then he pushed away and left her there, alone with the moonlight glinting off the dark ocean and the swimming pool. “I’ll call for pizza. Pepperoni okay?”