Never Have I Ever (9 page)

“Yours too I hope.”

Not a single moment of silence passed between us the remainder of our evening at the bar. Our conversations ran the gamut of vacations and life-goals to our opinions on our friends and everything in between.

An hour later our second round of drinks was long gone, but our conversation continued to grow. The longer we talked, the more I wanted him. It was as simple as that. Judging by his face, he felt the same way.

That was when he suggested, “It’s getting late. I say we take this discussion back to my place.”

“Where do you live, anyway?” I asked as he took my hand to stand me up.

“Downtown,” he replied. After a beat he added, “L.A.”

“Oh. I drove here. Should I follow you?”

“No need. Where did you park?”

“Just around the corner here.”

“Give me your keys.”

I pulled them from my purse and handed them over. He left me at the entrance of the club for long enough to take them to the bartender. I watched the silent discussion from where I was. After a couple of nods from the bartender, Noah tapped on the bar. My keys were left sitting there.

“Taken care of,” he assured me as he returned. I gave him a quizzical look. “It will be at my building by morning.”

“That’s convenient.”

And it was. We traveled down highway one ten from Pasadena to downtown Los Angeles. The entire ride I was consciously aware of the bareness between my legs. I sort of squirmed a little against the cool leather of the seat in his car. He noticed it, enjoyed it even. The confidence radiating from him gave that much away.

Amid the skyscrapers in the hustle and bustle of Saturday night was Noah’s building. There was a valet service out front. The doorman even tipped his hat to us as we passed him. We walked through the lobby, and I almost couldn’t believe it when I saw him push the button for the top floor in the elevator.

The apartment Noah lived in was just as impressive as the floor selection suggested. There was a short step down from the front door. Dark hardwood floors gave way for an open floor plan with barely any doors. To the left was the kitchen. Stainless steel appliances accented marble countertops. An island in the center of the wide space held a wine rack and room enough for three barstools.

After a short step down from the kitchen it splayed open into the living room where an L-shaped leather couch and postmodern chairs surrounded a short coffee table. On the right, floor to ceiling windows reached out for a perfect view of the Loss Angeles skyline and out into the Pacific Ocean. The view was only broken by a faux stone fireplace in the center. A large flat screen TV was affixed above the mantle where photo collages rested in a place of honor.

Beyond the living room was a sliding door cutting an angle into the wall which more than likely consisted of the master bedroom. Darkness lay down a hallway directly beside the room, though I could make out the shape of two other doors. I assumed that one was a second bedroom and the other possibly a guest bath.

Noah closed the door behind us and set his keys on an end table beside the entryway.

“Make
yourself
at home,” he said. He removed his suit jacket and folded it over the back of the sofa, then rolled up the sleeves of his shirt before he took a bottle of red wine from the wine rack.

On his hip, plain as day, was strapped a forty five.

“You own a gun.” It was a statement more than a question.

“Several as a matter of fact, and licensed for all of them. Including concealed carry,” he noted. It was then removed from his belt and placed on the island in the kitchen. “Does that make you nervous?”

Only a lot.

“From what I’ve seen, guns
cause
more problems than they solve is all.”

“When placed in the hands of idiots you are absolutely right. Have you ever fired one?”

“No,” and I left it at that. I harbored no desire to do so, either.

He popped open the cork on the wine bottle. “I’ll have to take you to the range sometime.”

I tried to focus on something else, lest I make an awkward conversation even more awkward. I chose the city. I took the step into the living room and walked along the edge of the window. Then I tried not to look down, but out. This must have been painfully awful during earthquakes.

“What a spectacular view,” I said.

“It really is. You should see it at sunset. The city actually shimmers.”

I set my purse on the coffee table when I passed it by. The sound of moving wine glasses came from the kitchen, but my eyes were trained on the mantle and the pictures there. Friends and relatives and businessmen and women, none of whom I ever met or even recognized, filled the images.

One stood out in particular.

The woman in the picture was alone. It was a professional shot, though the photo itself was candid. She was in the process of moving her long brown hair out of her heart-shaped face during a gust of wind. And she was laughing, white teeth showing behind plump peach lips. Her dark eyes were half closed with the effort of the laugh. She looked like she could’ve been a model with her prominent cheek bones and a thin chin. I felt the urge to smile back at her.

“Oh wow, who’s this?”

Noah left the kitchen with two half-filled wine glasses in his hands. “That’s, ah… that’s Selene.”

“She’s beautiful,” I said. And I meant it without a lick of jealousy.

He was behind me now, my back touching his chest as he brought his arm around to present me a glass of wine while I looked at the picture.

“She is the aforementioned four month stint.”

“Oh. What happened, may I ask?”

He pushed my hair over my left shoulder, exposing the back of my neck to him. “Of course you can ask.” His lips brushed against my skin and his voice became a little more sullen. “She left me. And then she died.”

I turned around and placed my hand on his chest to push him back a little and look him in the eyes. My brow knitted together in a cocktail of interest, apology and concern.

He added quickly, “The latter was not a result of the former, I assure you.”

I shook my head, struggling to voice my thoughts. I hadn’t meant the action as an implication. “No, that—sorry, I didn’t mean for you to think that. I mean, you obviously cared for her. You still have her picture up even after she left you.”

“In the end I cared for her, but she didn’t care for me. I don’t get along with everyone I meet, you know.”

“I find that hard to believe, Noah. You’re all-around charming and sweet and, let’s face it, unbelievably handsome and—”

“And rich,” he said point-blank.

“I was
going
to say not at all a dick, unlike most guys I get to know through Declan.”

“The fact that you haven’t commented on it all night has just been driving me crazy. Between my car, the piano bar and my apartment most women would have said something by now.”

I chuckled. “Hey, I agreed to go for a drink with you before I knew this much about you, remember? Besides, I’m not going to be so crass as to look a gift horse in the mouth.”

“That’s what I like about you.” Noah closed the short gap between us until our bodies were touching. The action made me pull my hand away from him just as I felt his free arm wrap around to the small of my back. His face was stoic, but his eyes reflected the exhilaration of a lion that just cornered its prey. I swallowed down the reluctance in my throat at the thought of what was to come.

“I’ve never done anything like this before, you know,” I told him.

His voice was once again like liquid platinum. “I know. But, from what I experienced last night, I can already tell that you’re a natural, Piper. Don’t be afraid; we’ll take this slow. As much as I am going to enjoy you, I want you to enjoy it too.”

I could only nod.

He touched his wine glass to mine and said, “Drink up. We have a long night ahead of us.”

Noah’s tongue was in my mouth. His left hand cradled the back of my neck. My dress rode up my thighs as I straddled him, more or less pinning him to the corner of the L-shaped sofa. Even though I was on top of him, his movements dictated mine. My hair fell over one side of my shoulders and brushed against the side of his face as he carried on kissing me with abandon. His right hand found the back of my leg. He pulled me into him a little more as his fingers slid beneath the hem of my dress to my naked hip and then my ass. It drove the hardness behind the fabric of his pants in between my legs until it was near to grinding against my sex.

Then he pushed away from me, growling; “Stand up.”

I kissed him hard one more time but obeyed his demand. I had to. I agreed to this after all. In a near whimper out of having to move away from him, I climbed off the couch to stand in the wide space between it and the coffee table.

He stayed in his position, relaxed against the couch, to look up at me. “I told you earlier I liked that dress on you. I’ve since decided I think I’d like it better on the floor. Take it off.
Heels as well.”

I bent at my waist and unbuckled the straps of my high heels. I stepped out of them and placed them behind me.  At first I tried to hesitate and play it shy while I took off the dress, but before I could fully do so I was already pulling the zipper down on the side of the smooth black cloth. I lightly pushed the straps from my shoulders and the whole thing fell from my torso. I had to scoot out of it at my hips until it drifted to the floor.

With any other man,
I would’ve been able to hesitate. I would’ve been able to be coy and reserved and retain a specific amount of control over myself because the men I used to date were never direct. They never knew what they wanted, or if it was all right to have it. If, by some miracle, they did know what they wanted then they certainly had no idea how to go about taking it. Noah wasn’t like any other man I’d met. All of my reservations fell away around him. My introvert retreated and I was left naked, literally as well as figuratively, as a canvas for him to paint to his desire.

He moved his finger in a circular motion, an un-spoken command to spin around. I turned slowly. My heart rate jumped a little. This was the first time he’d seen me undressed in full light instead of the shadows of my apartment. I began to feel self-conscious about what he may consider flaws in me. Were my hips too wide?
My skin too pale?
Was the C-cup size of my breasts too small or too large for his liking? All of the unspoken questions crept up on me.

“Good,” he said. He held up his hand in a stop signal once I was facing him again. “Kneel with your legs apart.”

I dropped down with as much grace as I could manage to my knees to minimize the impact of the hardwood floor. My legs were spread at an acute angle. I sat on the backs of my legs and placed my hands on my thighs.

“Wider,” he said. “Display everything to me like the slut you are.”

I loved the way he said that word. I rocked a bit on my knees as they spread apart further. I could already tell I was once again dripping.

While I was perfectly aware of the plethora of possibilities when it came to a Dom and sub relationship, a looming knot tightened in my stomach at the newness of the experience. I understood the allure. I enjoyed the concept of being at the creative sexual mercy of an intelligent man. Under normal circumstances, however, I would never have agreed to something like this so soon after meeting anyone. But Noah held the confidence of a man who knew what he was doing. At least, that was the impression I got at the piano bar. Either way, I wouldn’t find out whether or not it was my cup of tea unless I gave it a shot. I reminded myself of my long list of Nevers to instill my own strange form of mental resolve.

“What are you going to do with me?” I asked.

“Nothing you can’t handle, my dear. Stay right there,” he directed.

He got up from the couch, walked across the living room and to the sliding door of the bedroom on my right. I heard the gentle clatter of a drawer or a trunk, I didn’t know which. Silence fell for several heavy beats before he emerged. A black riding crop was in his hand. I immediately tensed in both hope and fear of how he’d use it.

He walked back and stood in front of me. The tip of the riding crop reached under my chin. He pulled against gravity to move my head up so I was looking at him. I instinctively adjusted my posture accordingly.

“We have a lot to discuss, little one. First and foremost, while you are here you will always address me as Sir. No exceptions. I will address you as whatever I deem fit. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” I said.

He smacked the riding crop against my cheek with a subtle flick of his wrist. It didn’t so much hurt as it served to bring me to full attention.

“Try again.”

“Yes, Sir, I understand.”

“Better. I’m not a violent man by nature. I would much rather give you pleasure than pain. However, if you fail in your duties you will be punished.”

I had to admit I really sort of liked the idea of the pain. He began to slowly circle me, tracing the crop along my bare skin as he spoke.