Melt into You
Page 10
Author: Roni Loren
Yes. A dark-haired beauty with ice blue eyes and a mouth that begged to be tasted. A woman who clearly had never been under a master’s hand, but whose body had responded the instant her hands were tied—in front of a live audience no less. He shoved Evan’s image from his head. “See if there are any new members.”
He quirked an eyebrow. “You want a newbie?”
“Yes.” Anything to make him forget an oldie.
SIX
This was not how Evan had anticipated spending her birthday. She folded her hands in her lap and tried to keep an interested look on her face as one of the reporters asked Daniel another question about the planned television show.
She thought she’d have some time to get her head wrapped around the idea that they—well, Daniel—was going to have his own TV show. But two weeks after signing the deal the word was out, and the Dallas papers wanted to know all the details. The glare of the spotlight was already dangerously close to making her break out in hives. She much preferred being the one behind the flashbulb.
“Ms. Kennedy, are you going to be part of the show?” the female reporter asked, turning her head toward Evan.
She sat up a little straighter on the couch. “I plan to stay in more of a behind-the-scenes role.”
Daniel put a hand on Evan’s knee. “Evan’s going to be in the audience most days, and I plan to call upon her when we need a woman’s perspective. Hopefully, we can get her over her stage fright so she can become a bigger part of the show.”
Evan tensed beneath his grip. What the hell was he talking about? They had never discussed her stepping into that kind of role. She bit the inside of her cheek to keep from blurting out the question for him. She gave the handful of reporters a tight smile.
After a few more questions were lobbed at Daniel and more photos were taken of the both of them, the group finally filed out of the house. Evan barely waited for the front door to click shut behind them before whirling around and pinning Daniel with a deadly glare. “Have you been drinking? Hit in the head with a blunt object?”
His eyebrows knitted. “What’s the matter?”
She put her hands out to her sides. “Get over stage fright? Since when am I supposed to be on camera? That’s not part of the deal. You know I don’t want that.”
He gave a put-upon sigh and placed his hands on her shoulders. “Calm down, sweets. It’s just something the producers mentioned would be a good idea. You’re beautiful and smart. They think you’ll add to the brand better if you’re not hiding in the background.”
She groaned. “I’m not hiding, Daniel. I’m working my ass off with all the detailed stuff you don’t like to deal with. The limelight is your dream, not mine. And how am I supposed to be at all the show tapings and still get my new studio off the ground?”
He frowned. “Evan, you don’t have to worry about turning a profit with your photography. The money from this deal will be more than enough to support all of us.”
She stared at him in disbelief, then wriggled from beneath his grasp. So her photography business was expendable—a little hobby that didn’t bring in enough cash to count for anything. She stormed past him before she said everything that wanted to spill out of her mouth. “Whatever, Daniel.”
* * *
Evan ignored the soft knock on her door as she finished putting on her eyeliner. An hour of alone time had eased her down from her boiling point, but she was still at a steady simmer. She had half a mind to go to her birthday dinner alone.
“Evan, it’s Marcus. Can I come in? I have mail for you.”
She blew out a breath and capped the eyeliner. “It’s not locked. And you could’ve come up with a better excuse than that.”
He cracked open the door and stuck his head in tentatively, like he was afraid she was going to chuck a shoe at him or something. It would’ve been tempting had it been Daniel. “You doing all right in here?”
“Peachy,” she said with a saccharine smile.
He opened the door the rest of the way and stepped in, frown lines marring his smooth complexion. “Don’t mind Daniel. His mouth is just moving too fast for his brain. He’s so excited about finally reaching his dream that he hasn’t slowed down to really consider how everyone else might feel about it.”
She sighed and clicked off the light on her makeup mirror. “Look, no one is happier for him than I am. You know that. I know where he came from and how big of a deal this is. I just need him to understand that it’s not my dream. I’m dedicated to making this work for all of us, but my financial interest is so that I can run my studio, not have to stress about money, and be able to . . . take care of a few things. The fame part is not my deal.”
The corner of his mouth lifted. “Fame might not be that bad, you know.”
Fame. Her stomach did a flip. She’d spent a lot of time honing this new life—changing her name, refining her look, sloughing off her old life—not just to get a fresh start but to escape the demons lurking in her past. Having her picture splashed across the papers or television wasn’t exactly lying low.
“I’m not going to be on camera, Marcus. Get that through Daniel’s head and we’ll all be square.”
He stepped behind her and set the stack of mail on the vanity table before giving her shoulders a little squeeze. “He won’t make you do anything you don’t want to, okay?”
She nodded. “I know.”
“Now, why don’t we drop this whole thing for now and focus on going out and celebrating your birthday?” He waggled his eyebrows at her in the mirror. “We have a gift I promise will put a smile on your face.”
“Oh, Lord. Now you have me nervous.”
He laughed. “Come on, hot stuff. We don’t want to miss our reservation.”
* * *
By the time dinner wrapped up, Evan found herself without the energy to hold her grudge. Sulking was hard to maintain when so much fabulous food and wine were being consumed.
“If your evil plan was to stuff me with buttered scallops and cheesecake so that I wouldn’t be mad at you anymore, it’s working,” Evan said, licking a bit of strawberry sauce off her fork.
Daniel laughed. “I would never stoop so low as to prey upon your food-whore tendencies.”
She tossed her cloth napkin at him. “Liar.”
Marcus stole the last bite of their shared dessert and pointed his fork at Daniel. “Tell her what’s next while she’s still on her sugar and champagne buzz.”
She eyed the two men, a little twinge of anxiety going through her. “What are you two up to?”
Daniel grasped her hand across the table. “Sweets, I know we haven’t brought it up since our little discussion in South Padre, but Marcus and I have noticed you’ve been on edge for months.”
“Oh, come on, not this again,” she complained. “I told you I’m fine, Doctor. Totally stable.”
He shook his head, amusement dancing in his eyes. “Chill out. I’m not psychoanalyzing you. You’ve just been a tad bit . . .”
“Bitchy?” Marcus offered before sipping his drink.
“Hey,” she said, shooting him an offended look.
“I was going to say tense,” Daniel said, bumping Marcus with his shoulder. “I really do think it’s this whole celibacy thing getting to you.”
She blinked in surprise, the subject catching her off guard. Now they were discussing her lack of a sex life at dinner? Her earlier hint of nerves ratcheted up to dread. “Wait a second, what does that have to do with what’s happening next?”
“Well, we thought for your birthday we’d help you with that little issue,” Marcus said, obviously fighting a smile.
“My issue?” Her mind took a moment to fully process the words. “Wait, with my celibacy issue?”
Daniel grinned. “Exactly.”
She pulled her hand from Daniel’s and stared at the two of them in disbelief. How in the hell could two gay men help her with her celibacy issue? They surely weren’t going to volunteer to go bi or straight for the night. She almost laughed at the notion, but then a disgusting thought hit her, making her choke. “Oh, no. No way.”
“What?” Daniel asked in a tone worthy of a halo and wings.
“I swear to God if you paid for some escort or something, I’m seriously going to kill you two right here at the table.”
Daniel leaned back in his chair and sipped his coffee with a casual elegance that had Evan ready to throw something more damaging at him than her napkin. He set down his cup. “Evan, we would never do that to you. You deserve better than that.”
“Definitely,” Marcus said, sliding an envelope onto the table. “Like a membership to The Ranch. Three months fully paid.”
She stared down at the little white envelope and the red R emblazoned on its wax seal. The thing looked innocuous enough, but she had a feeling the gift inside was far from innocent. She raised her gaze, hoping she was wrong. “Is that some sort of spa or something?”
Daniel’s lips curled into a mischievous smile. “Not exactly.”
“Jesus, Daniel, tell me it’s not a brothel.” She had no idea if they even had brothels with dude prostitutes, but she wasn’t putting anything past her two friends. They were kinky bastards.
Marcus rolled his eyes. “Stop messing with her, D. You’re freaking her out.”
“Oh, neither of you are any fun,” Daniel said, motioning to the waiter for a coffee refill, then looking back to Evan. “It’s not a brothel, for God’s sake. It’s a resort where people go to live out their fantasies, explore their . . . inclinations with each other.”
“Inclinations?” she repeated. “Like figuring out if they’re gay or straight? ’Cause, no offense, but I don’t have any doubts there.”
His eyebrow arched. “I’m sure some go there for that. But this is more about venturing into things you may not have access to in your day-to-day life. Fantasies. Role-playing. Multiple partners. Bondage. In your case, maybe just a confidential sexual partner.”
Her hands turned sweaty against the booth’s leather seat as she replayed his list in her head. Role-playing. Bondage. She parted her lips, but the words stuck to her tongue.
Marcus pushed the envelope closer to her. “I’ve been a member for a while. The place is top notch—safe, exclusive, uber private—and has very strict membership requirements.”
Her brain began to spin. A sex club? They wanted her to go to a sex club? The boys were out of their freaking minds.
“It’s all very confidential,” Daniel added. “I don’t want you to reveal our situation, but members will know you’re engaged and that your fiancé approves of you being there. People there won’t blink an eye at that. They’re used to unique situations.”
She looked back and forth between the two of them as her ability to form sentences returned in a rush. “You seriously expect me to just go there and have sex with strangers? Are you nuts?”
Marcus gave her a sympathetic look. “You can do whatever you feel comfortable with. No one’s going to make you participate. But don’t shut yourself off to the possibility until you see the place. You may be surprised how things change in that kind of environment—how your mind opens up. They specialize in BDSM, but I’m sure they can accommodate whatever situation or fantasy is most enticing to you.”
Her mind automatically rewound to the day in the seminar room—Jace tying her hands and being in control, touching her. She’d accessed that scene in her head countless times over the last two weeks, had touched herself as she filled in the blanks of what could’ve happened if they’d been alone and had no past to contend with.
Yes. A dark-haired beauty with ice blue eyes and a mouth that begged to be tasted. A woman who clearly had never been under a master’s hand, but whose body had responded the instant her hands were tied—in front of a live audience no less. He shoved Evan’s image from his head. “See if there are any new members.”
He quirked an eyebrow. “You want a newbie?”
“Yes.” Anything to make him forget an oldie.
SIX
This was not how Evan had anticipated spending her birthday. She folded her hands in her lap and tried to keep an interested look on her face as one of the reporters asked Daniel another question about the planned television show.
She thought she’d have some time to get her head wrapped around the idea that they—well, Daniel—was going to have his own TV show. But two weeks after signing the deal the word was out, and the Dallas papers wanted to know all the details. The glare of the spotlight was already dangerously close to making her break out in hives. She much preferred being the one behind the flashbulb.
“Ms. Kennedy, are you going to be part of the show?” the female reporter asked, turning her head toward Evan.
She sat up a little straighter on the couch. “I plan to stay in more of a behind-the-scenes role.”
Daniel put a hand on Evan’s knee. “Evan’s going to be in the audience most days, and I plan to call upon her when we need a woman’s perspective. Hopefully, we can get her over her stage fright so she can become a bigger part of the show.”
Evan tensed beneath his grip. What the hell was he talking about? They had never discussed her stepping into that kind of role. She bit the inside of her cheek to keep from blurting out the question for him. She gave the handful of reporters a tight smile.
After a few more questions were lobbed at Daniel and more photos were taken of the both of them, the group finally filed out of the house. Evan barely waited for the front door to click shut behind them before whirling around and pinning Daniel with a deadly glare. “Have you been drinking? Hit in the head with a blunt object?”
His eyebrows knitted. “What’s the matter?”
She put her hands out to her sides. “Get over stage fright? Since when am I supposed to be on camera? That’s not part of the deal. You know I don’t want that.”
He gave a put-upon sigh and placed his hands on her shoulders. “Calm down, sweets. It’s just something the producers mentioned would be a good idea. You’re beautiful and smart. They think you’ll add to the brand better if you’re not hiding in the background.”
She groaned. “I’m not hiding, Daniel. I’m working my ass off with all the detailed stuff you don’t like to deal with. The limelight is your dream, not mine. And how am I supposed to be at all the show tapings and still get my new studio off the ground?”
He frowned. “Evan, you don’t have to worry about turning a profit with your photography. The money from this deal will be more than enough to support all of us.”
She stared at him in disbelief, then wriggled from beneath his grasp. So her photography business was expendable—a little hobby that didn’t bring in enough cash to count for anything. She stormed past him before she said everything that wanted to spill out of her mouth. “Whatever, Daniel.”
* * *
Evan ignored the soft knock on her door as she finished putting on her eyeliner. An hour of alone time had eased her down from her boiling point, but she was still at a steady simmer. She had half a mind to go to her birthday dinner alone.
“Evan, it’s Marcus. Can I come in? I have mail for you.”
She blew out a breath and capped the eyeliner. “It’s not locked. And you could’ve come up with a better excuse than that.”
He cracked open the door and stuck his head in tentatively, like he was afraid she was going to chuck a shoe at him or something. It would’ve been tempting had it been Daniel. “You doing all right in here?”
“Peachy,” she said with a saccharine smile.
He opened the door the rest of the way and stepped in, frown lines marring his smooth complexion. “Don’t mind Daniel. His mouth is just moving too fast for his brain. He’s so excited about finally reaching his dream that he hasn’t slowed down to really consider how everyone else might feel about it.”
She sighed and clicked off the light on her makeup mirror. “Look, no one is happier for him than I am. You know that. I know where he came from and how big of a deal this is. I just need him to understand that it’s not my dream. I’m dedicated to making this work for all of us, but my financial interest is so that I can run my studio, not have to stress about money, and be able to . . . take care of a few things. The fame part is not my deal.”
The corner of his mouth lifted. “Fame might not be that bad, you know.”
Fame. Her stomach did a flip. She’d spent a lot of time honing this new life—changing her name, refining her look, sloughing off her old life—not just to get a fresh start but to escape the demons lurking in her past. Having her picture splashed across the papers or television wasn’t exactly lying low.
“I’m not going to be on camera, Marcus. Get that through Daniel’s head and we’ll all be square.”
He stepped behind her and set the stack of mail on the vanity table before giving her shoulders a little squeeze. “He won’t make you do anything you don’t want to, okay?”
She nodded. “I know.”
“Now, why don’t we drop this whole thing for now and focus on going out and celebrating your birthday?” He waggled his eyebrows at her in the mirror. “We have a gift I promise will put a smile on your face.”
“Oh, Lord. Now you have me nervous.”
He laughed. “Come on, hot stuff. We don’t want to miss our reservation.”
* * *
By the time dinner wrapped up, Evan found herself without the energy to hold her grudge. Sulking was hard to maintain when so much fabulous food and wine were being consumed.
“If your evil plan was to stuff me with buttered scallops and cheesecake so that I wouldn’t be mad at you anymore, it’s working,” Evan said, licking a bit of strawberry sauce off her fork.
Daniel laughed. “I would never stoop so low as to prey upon your food-whore tendencies.”
She tossed her cloth napkin at him. “Liar.”
Marcus stole the last bite of their shared dessert and pointed his fork at Daniel. “Tell her what’s next while she’s still on her sugar and champagne buzz.”
She eyed the two men, a little twinge of anxiety going through her. “What are you two up to?”
Daniel grasped her hand across the table. “Sweets, I know we haven’t brought it up since our little discussion in South Padre, but Marcus and I have noticed you’ve been on edge for months.”
“Oh, come on, not this again,” she complained. “I told you I’m fine, Doctor. Totally stable.”
He shook his head, amusement dancing in his eyes. “Chill out. I’m not psychoanalyzing you. You’ve just been a tad bit . . .”
“Bitchy?” Marcus offered before sipping his drink.
“Hey,” she said, shooting him an offended look.
“I was going to say tense,” Daniel said, bumping Marcus with his shoulder. “I really do think it’s this whole celibacy thing getting to you.”
She blinked in surprise, the subject catching her off guard. Now they were discussing her lack of a sex life at dinner? Her earlier hint of nerves ratcheted up to dread. “Wait a second, what does that have to do with what’s happening next?”
“Well, we thought for your birthday we’d help you with that little issue,” Marcus said, obviously fighting a smile.
“My issue?” Her mind took a moment to fully process the words. “Wait, with my celibacy issue?”
Daniel grinned. “Exactly.”
She pulled her hand from Daniel’s and stared at the two of them in disbelief. How in the hell could two gay men help her with her celibacy issue? They surely weren’t going to volunteer to go bi or straight for the night. She almost laughed at the notion, but then a disgusting thought hit her, making her choke. “Oh, no. No way.”
“What?” Daniel asked in a tone worthy of a halo and wings.
“I swear to God if you paid for some escort or something, I’m seriously going to kill you two right here at the table.”
Daniel leaned back in his chair and sipped his coffee with a casual elegance that had Evan ready to throw something more damaging at him than her napkin. He set down his cup. “Evan, we would never do that to you. You deserve better than that.”
“Definitely,” Marcus said, sliding an envelope onto the table. “Like a membership to The Ranch. Three months fully paid.”
She stared down at the little white envelope and the red R emblazoned on its wax seal. The thing looked innocuous enough, but she had a feeling the gift inside was far from innocent. She raised her gaze, hoping she was wrong. “Is that some sort of spa or something?”
Daniel’s lips curled into a mischievous smile. “Not exactly.”
“Jesus, Daniel, tell me it’s not a brothel.” She had no idea if they even had brothels with dude prostitutes, but she wasn’t putting anything past her two friends. They were kinky bastards.
Marcus rolled his eyes. “Stop messing with her, D. You’re freaking her out.”
“Oh, neither of you are any fun,” Daniel said, motioning to the waiter for a coffee refill, then looking back to Evan. “It’s not a brothel, for God’s sake. It’s a resort where people go to live out their fantasies, explore their . . . inclinations with each other.”
“Inclinations?” she repeated. “Like figuring out if they’re gay or straight? ’Cause, no offense, but I don’t have any doubts there.”
His eyebrow arched. “I’m sure some go there for that. But this is more about venturing into things you may not have access to in your day-to-day life. Fantasies. Role-playing. Multiple partners. Bondage. In your case, maybe just a confidential sexual partner.”
Her hands turned sweaty against the booth’s leather seat as she replayed his list in her head. Role-playing. Bondage. She parted her lips, but the words stuck to her tongue.
Marcus pushed the envelope closer to her. “I’ve been a member for a while. The place is top notch—safe, exclusive, uber private—and has very strict membership requirements.”
Her brain began to spin. A sex club? They wanted her to go to a sex club? The boys were out of their freaking minds.
“It’s all very confidential,” Daniel added. “I don’t want you to reveal our situation, but members will know you’re engaged and that your fiancé approves of you being there. People there won’t blink an eye at that. They’re used to unique situations.”
She looked back and forth between the two of them as her ability to form sentences returned in a rush. “You seriously expect me to just go there and have sex with strangers? Are you nuts?”
Marcus gave her a sympathetic look. “You can do whatever you feel comfortable with. No one’s going to make you participate. But don’t shut yourself off to the possibility until you see the place. You may be surprised how things change in that kind of environment—how your mind opens up. They specialize in BDSM, but I’m sure they can accommodate whatever situation or fantasy is most enticing to you.”
Her mind automatically rewound to the day in the seminar room—Jace tying her hands and being in control, touching her. She’d accessed that scene in her head countless times over the last two weeks, had touched herself as she filled in the blanks of what could’ve happened if they’d been alone and had no past to contend with.
