Sway (12 page)

hard, she even managed to handle

Liesl. But he rarely brought any of the

women he was with around. Levi

knew he kept his relationships

extremely casual. He told Levi he

had no plans to get serious with

anyone, especially not until Carrie

had finished school.

“Not the kind who baby talk. Then

again, none of them have been

twenty-four. I’m totally full of shit to

try to lie and say I’d draw the line at

baby talk. If I got my hands on some

twenty-four-year-old tits, and their

owner baby talked, I suspect I’d just

pretend not to hear it.”

Levi laughed, feeling a lot better.

He needed to just call her and ask her

out again.

“Thanks, by the way, for getting

Cal to write up a new prenuptial

agreement. I had lunch with Mal

yesterday and handed it over. Thank

God I had all the notes you sent along

to tell him. I think I got it worded so

he didn’t think I was judging Gwen.

He took it pretty well.”

Cal had told Levi the prenup had

some things in it that worried him but

that it was pretty standard with most

of the wording. So they’d had another

written up to counter the first.

“He says Gwen will be giving up

her career to be his wife and manage

his home so she deserved to be paid

for that in some way.”

Levi blew out a frustrated breath.

“We can’t do this for him. He has to

learn his own lessons about this. I

just hope they can get past this stuff.

For all the things I find annoying

about Gwen, they do seem to love

each other.”

“She’s a featherheaded twat.”

Jonah sliced his steak to underline

the point.

Levi snorted. “Not much different

from Kelsey or Joanne.”

“Let’s hope she is, for Mal’s

sake.”

On his way home, Levi decided to

call her. It was eleven, but if she was

asleep or god forbid, out on a date,

she probably wouldn’t answer.

“Hello there, Levi Warner.”

He smiled. “I’m in my car, on my

way back home. Do you want to have

dinner with me tomorrow?”

“I have to work until nine. But I’m

free after that.”

“Are you busy Sunday?”

“I have a standing date with my

friends for dinner on Sunday. Would

you like to come? I can promise you

what will be one of the best meals

you’ve ever eaten. Mary’s supper

club has an eight-month wait list

now.”

“What are you doing right now?”

“Why? You want to sneak on over

for some late night action?”

He found himself grinning in the

dark.

“Tell you what. I have a raspberry

honey tart. Well, three-quarters of

one. I’m only human. Bring some

wine. I’m working now, but I can be

finished in an hour or so, if you want

to come over. Bring your pajamas.”

“I don’t sleep in pajamas.”

“Well then. Bring your cock.” She

hung up.

She should have told him no. That

she was busy and he could see her

the next day but really, why? She

wanted to see him and they were both

too old for games.

Candles lit, shades drawn, she

took one last look in the mirror and

approved. She’d chosen her favorite

chemise—she did have a lingerie

addiction, she’d be the first to admit.

But it hugged her curves with its

cool, soft embrace, the deep midnight

blue flattered her complexion. She

added some lipstick because hello, a

hot man was coming for a sex and tart

visit. Her hair was loose—he

seemed to like it that way—and she

opted to go barefoot. She had pretty

shoes in abundance, but she liked the

way she felt next to him in very little

clothing, smaller than he was.

She wasn’t a virgin. She’d been in

love

before,

had

been

in

relationships. It wasn’t like she

didn’t know how it worked. This sort

of tentative thing slowly smoothing

into something else. A relationship.

They’d dated and it was moving past

just casual dates.

A short period of time, she knew.

But this wasn’t anything like what

she’d had before. This was intense.

She thought of him and a thrill ripped

through her. He touched her and

everything

inside

went

still,

everything leaning into him, wanting

more.

He was bigger than she was. He

made her feel…not small and

helpless, but protected and taken care

of. One part of her was horrified by

how it made her so hot when he took

control. But another part of her

recognized it, embraced it and

enjoyed it. She was raised to own her

wants and needs. If it made her

ashamed, it wasn’t something she

should do. But this thing between her

and Levi wasn’t shameful. It was

dark and sweet and damn it, it was

right and she wanted to see what else

lay in store.

Punctual, a knock sounded on her

door and she answered it, happier

than she wanted to examine, to see

him standing there looking so

handsome.

“I brought my cock.”

She grinned and stepped aside for

him to come inside. “Good to know

as I plan to use it.” Without thinking,

she took his coat off, shaking it a

little and then hung it in the entry. She

liked to do things for him. Liked to

take care of him.

“Thank you.” He put down the

bags he’d been holding and pulled

her into a hug. He was warm and real

and he smelled like winter.

“You’re welcome.” She waited,

nearly breathless for the kiss she

knew was coming.

“I like that you wait.” He brushed

a kiss over her lips.

She liked it too.

“I don’t really want to eat anything

right now. No offense to your tart.

Unless that was a euphemism for

your pussy, in which case I’d like to

amend my answer.”

Laughing, she threw her arms

around his neck, tiptoeing up to kiss

him quickly.

“It wasn’t. But it can be. The other

tart will be just as good with coffee

tomorrow morning. My bed isn’t as

big as yours, but it’s comfortable and

I’m in it, which should hopefully

serve as a draw.”

He kissed the tip of her nose.

“More than you know.”

“Are you cold? I made a pot of tea

so the water is still hot if you’d like.”

He shook his head, flicking the

strap of the chemise off one shoulder

and kissing the bare spot, sending a

shiver through her.

“Okay then. I’d like you to be

naked.”

Something happened to her when

they got like this. She didn’t

understand the whole of it, only that

he brought something out in her. A

desire to serve and comfort.

“You first, beautiful.” He pulled

the other strap off and the fabric

spilled to the floor, leaving her in her

panties and nothing else. She’d

changed out the bars in her nipples

for hoops with beads and he noticed

that right off.

He took her breasts in his hands,

weighing them, and then he tugged

each hoop, flicking the bead and

bringing a surprised gasp to her lips.

He did things she didn’t expect.

Things that thrilled her straight to her

toes.

He stepped back and she moved a

step closer, wanting her hands on

him, wanting him to be as naked as

she was. He took her hands, clasping

at her wrists and again with the

shiver. She licked her lips, waiting

for whatever he had in mind next.

“You have no idea what it does to

me when you submit like that.” He

said it quietly, as if he wasn’t quite

sure what it did to him either.

Submit.

Was that it?

He let go of her wrists. “Bring me

that bag, the one I left near the door.

And be sure the door is locked and

your windows are all covered.” He

smiled and goose bumps broke out.

Her pussy was wet and ready, her

nipples throbbing, the faint ghost of

his touch just moments before still

lived on her skin.

The bag was a gym bag of sorts

and of course she’d already locked

up, though no one would be bugging

her at this time of night anyway. Not

without a call first.

She brought him the bag and he

took it, kissing her quickly.

“I want you to sit over there, on

your bed.”

She did it, excited at whatever he

had planned.

He unzipped the bag, and then

looked up at her. “Do you trust me?”

She thought about it. Did she? In

the ways that counted, yes. So she

nodded.

He pulled out a blindfold. “Good.”

When he’d arrived home, he’d stood

in his closet, looking at the bag.

He walked out to his car twice

only to go back inside. He hadn’t

used the contents in a few years, but a

quick check had told him the rope

was still sturdy and free of any burrs,

the mask he’d use for a blindfold was

still folded, wrapped in a scarf. A

scarf he’d bought the last time he

used the bag.

Only he never used the scarf, or

anything else in the bag. After the last

time, he’d come home and put it in

the closet and hadn’t really thought of

using it.

Until Daisy. That hit him as he

sucked in a breath.

He’d shoved it from his mind and

grabbed the straps and headed out

before he could overthink it any

more.

She looked at the mask he held and

got into a kneeling position. Most

likely to get a better look, she was

curious that way. But it inflamed him,

the way she got into position so

automatically.

He walked to her, each step

feeling more right than the last. “I’m

going to cover your eyes.”

She nodded.

When he slid it on and tightened

the strap he didn’t fail to notice her

gasp and then the gooseflesh. He bent

to kiss her shoulder and then gave a

featherlight touch to her nipple. He

wanted something for them and as he

pulled out the wrist cuffs, he gave

himself permission to look the

following

week.

She

needed

something

hanging

from

them.

Dangly. Sparkly. A little heavy so

she’d remember him every time she

moved.

The cuffs went back into the bag

and his fingertips brushed the rope.

Need burst through him with such

intensity his heart pounded and he felt

light-headed. He pulled the coil out

and brushed the end of it against the

underside of her breasts, loving the

way those lips of hers made an O of

surprised pleasure.

“Have you ever been tied up

before, Daisy?” He unbuckled his

belt, caressing his cock a moment as

he did.

“N-no.” She licked her lips. “I

mean, I think once someone used a

necktie on my wrists, but it was a

cheap tie and it sort of burned if I

pulled against it.”

He shook his head, though she

couldn’t see it. Amateurs.

“For the record,” he said as he

uncoiled the rope, letting it hit the

floor, letting her wonder what he was

doing, “all my neckties are silk. And

I’m not an amateur. If I want you to

burn, you’ll know it. But right now

what I want is to bind you.”

He didn’t ask. He just wanted her

along with him on the journey.

This fit him so well he would have

been terrified if he wasn’t staring at a

voluptuous, nearly naked woman

with a blindfold on, offering herself

up for his pleasure. This wasn’t a

shoe he wanted to wear. Not for a

long time. It was something so

intimate he’d stopped doing it rather

than waste all that raw, naked energy

and intimacy on anyone he didn’t feel

a deep connection to.

He shook his head again to