Chapter Fifteen
My leather bags arrive, and I’m excited to fill them.
Trevor gets me a large, empty room with several tables to assemble the gift bags. I line one row with the bags and use the other tables to organize the donations.
At noon, I race upstairs to collect my kisses.
Lunch has become my guilty pleasure. I get an uninterrupted hour with Damon, and we get to snuggle and kiss.
“I hear the gift bags you’re assembling are incredible. How did you get so many companies to donate in this economy?”
“I’ve been taking charm lessons from Damon Noble. He’s really talented. I’m sure he could charm the pants off anyone.”
“I only want to charm the pants off you. What do you think the chances are of me getting you out of your pants this weekend?” He rubs my thigh; the heat from his touch burns my skin.
“If I were a betting girl, I’d say the odds are in your favor. I may not have a lot of experience, but I want you, and I’m willing to be the student if you will teach me.”
He places his chin between his thumb and his index finger and looks at me through hooded eyes.
“This might be an awkward question, but just how much experience do you have? I only ask because it will influence how we approach our first time together.”
“I’m not embarrassed by the question. I always try to remain open and honest about my life.” I fumble with the hem of my shirt. “I’m not a virgin, but my experiences can’t be described as extensive either. Unfortunately, it was like waiting for fireworks and finding out I got a dud.”
“I’ll do my best to show you fireworks,” he whispers with his warm breath grazing my neck.
A chill runs down my spine. “I know you can ignite a fire in me, but with these lunches and your kisses, I’m liable to burn up before Friday.”
“Go back to work, and I’ll pick you up at seven for book club and dinner.”
He swats my behind as I walk toward the door.
I pace the living room floor waiting for Damon to arrive. After our touchy-feely lunch, I’m full of tension and can’t sit still. When I see his Mustang pull around the corner, I am in the car before it rolls to a complete stop.
“I would have gotten out and opened the door for you, Angel.”
“I know, but I’m eager to see you.” Once I’m in his car, I lean toward him and pucker my lips.
His press firmly against mine, causing my heart to skip a beat.
“Now I’m Angel?” He hates calling me Kat, but as long as he chooses the nickname, then it’s okay?
“It fits you.” He touches my cheek. “Angelic face, cupid lips, saintly eyes, and hair that shines like a halo.”
“It’s sweet. No one has ever called me anything other than Kat.” I hear him grumble at the mention of my nickname. “What’s so bad about the name Kat?”
“We’ve talked about this before. I guess I’m a traditionalist and like to call people by their given names. However, since everyone around you insists on calling you by a nickname, I at least gave you one that fits.”
“Fair enough. I’m happy to be your angel.” I buckle in. “Where are we eating?”
“A quiet little steakhouse in Manhattan Beach, and then we’ll take a stroll along the shore.” I hold his hand until we arrive at the restaurant.
Tucked into a corner booth in the back, he scoots in close to me, so our thighs are touching, and his hand sits on my bare knee.
Damon orders for both of us, which I like because there is something sexy about confidence—about a man who seems like he could rule the world.
“What are you thinking about?” he asks as his hand gently runs up my thigh.
“I can’t think about much of anything with you caressing me. But I am hoping that on Friday night, you might put out the fire you ignited this afternoon.”
He looks at me in amazement. “I’ve never been with a girl who just says what’s on her mind. I like that about you.”
I’d like that about you too if you shared.
Instead of saying what I really think for fear it will cause an argument, I go with something else. “I aim to please,” I beam. “Tell me … did you enjoy the last fifty pages of the book?”
The waiter delivers two plates, both with sea bass and rice pilaf. Off to the side are grilled asparagus spears. We continue to talk as we enjoy our dinner.
“What’s not to like?” he asks. “He told her what he likes, and she’s willing to try it. That seems diplomatic.”
“There’s nothing democratic about their relationship. I couldn’t relinquish that much power to a man.”
“You just answered the question from last week. I asked how far you’d go for the person you cared about.”
“I wouldn’t go far enough to lose myself in the process, but I’m willing to negotiate like she did. I say what’s on my mind, and that isn’t a good trait for a submissive. My bottom would be sore all the time from the spankings I’d get for misbehaving.”
“Does that turn you on or off?” He lifts his brow.
“I’ve given that some thought and researched the subject. Apparently, there’s some kind of pain-pleasure connection. It has something to do with the sting, the heat from the contact, and the vibration it creates. Anticipation is also a big component. I don’t have a desire to be spanked, so I wouldn’t consider it a turn-on, but it doesn’t send me running for the hills either. I’d be willing to consider it as long as it was under the right conditions.”
“Thank goodness that’s not my thing. I’d never spank you. A swat on your backend while you’re walking by, maybe, but nothing more. There are other ways to excite you, other ways to make you tingle, other ways to warm your skin.”
“You have me in a state as it is.”
He chuckles. “You would be a bad poker player. All your cards are out for me to see. I haven’t even played my hand, and you’re folding yours.”
“What’s a girl supposed to do?” I ask. “You kiss me in a way that sets my panties aflame, and then you pull back, only to ignite everything again. Just when I think I’m catching my breath, you run your hand up to my nether regions and make me lose myself once more. I can’t take much more of this.”
“It hasn’t been easy for me either. Just looking at you makes me hard.” His head lowers, and I follow his gaze to his growing length.
“Good. I’m glad you’re suffering too.”
“I can relieve that torment. All you have to do is sit back and relax, and I’ll take that ache away,” he whispers in my ear.
“What are you talking about?” He rubs my thigh and lets his fingers trail up the inside of my leg.
He barely touches me, and my body quivers.
“Let me show you. No one will see.” His tongue lightly flicks my earlobe, sending prickles of awareness throughout my body.
Oh, my God, what’s he talking about? We’re in a restaurant, in the company of other diners.
“We’re in a public place, where people can see us.” I hiss under my breath.