Bound to Please (21 page)

So why hadn’t it? The very fact that she wasn’t asking him for anything made him want to give her everything.

Now they were having a late lunch near Ghirardelli Square. It was three, and at this in-between time of day on a Thursday, they were the only patrons in the restaurant.

Twisting in the booth to face her, he took a fallen lock of her hair in his hand and played with the silky strands.
Just think about today.
She’d put her hair up in some kind of clip thing, and it was simple for him to unclasp it. She watched his face as he combed out her hair with his fingers, her lids lowering slightly each time he tugged gently. She was so fucking reactive, so trusting of him, so…

Perfect.

He wrapped a silky lock around his finger. She looked at him, ready for any signal he’d give her. It was that trust that floored him, made his blood rush hot. When she looked at him like that he knew it would be easy to lose control, to forget he was in charge.

Leaning toward her, he nipped her earlobe, addicted to that gasp she made when he did it just right. He kissed her temple as he twisted her hair tight. When he pulled back he was satisfied to see the flush on her skin, the sharp rise and fall of her chest.

And he was hard. His cock was throbbing underneath the table. He wanted to take her, right there in the booth. He wanted to feel her pussy, wet and tight around his cock; he wanted to take her nipple into his mouth and taste her skin. He wanted to bite her, listen to her scream his name as she came.

He swallowed. “I love that you wore a skirt today. Did you do that for me, doll?”

She looked up through those dark lashes of hers, flirty. “Maybe.”

“Good girl.”

His blood was pounding. Every muscle in his body was tense, strained. He’d topped a lot of girls, but he’d never fought this hard to keep it together.

“Cakebread 2006 Sauvignon Blanc. Would you like to taste, sir?”

Mark slowly turned toward the waiter; he’d totally missed the man’s approach. He cleared his throat. “My guest would like to taste the wine.”

“As you wish.” He poured a tiny amount of the golden liquid into an oversized wineglass. Ruby took a sip and nodded her approval.

After the waiter had filled both their glasses and left, Mark turned back to her. She was looking at him expectantly. Her eyes wide and full of want. For him.

His balls tightened, and he wondered if he had it in him to wait.

With a deep breath he picked up the small bag of chocolate they’d bought earlier at Ghirardelli Square. She’d brought him to the square on Sunday, during their mini San Francisco tour, and it was easy to tell that it was Ruby’s favorite spot in the city. The scent of chocolate swirled through the air, and Ruby had closed her eyes in ecstasy, a look Mark wanted to see on her face more often.

Now, he felt her gaze on his hands as he took out a bar of chocolate and unwrapped it. He broke off a piece and brought it to her lips.

Her eyes were wide as he slowly pushed the piece of chocolate into her mouth. He followed the chocolate with his finger, sliding into her mouth until the pad of his finger rested on her tongue. He could feel the chocolate melting, warm and silky against his skin.

She started to suck.

Lust blasted through him, landing deep in his gut, where it throbbed like a bass drum.

“Pretend it’s my cock in your mouth. Show me what you’d do.”

The pink flush that stained her cheeks made him burn. Her gaze locked onto his as she drew his entire finger into her mouth, slid him over her tongue, sucking him until the base of his knuckles hit her lips.

The chocolate was gone now, melted. Kind of like his restraint was threatening to do. He was so fucking hard, his erection throbbed painfully, every muscle in his body tight. She continued to suck him, taste him. Her eyes were dark and glittery, and he knew she was getting off on it. Knew she was wet for him.

He wanted to feel that wetness; he wanted to bend her over the table and bury himself inside her.

Instead he drew his finger out of her mouth and traced a soft line across her bottom lip. He cupped her face, and she twisted to kiss his palm. When she met his gaze her eyes glistened with something so true it made him ache.

“Will I see you again?” she whispered. “After you’re done recording here?” She seemed to be holding her breath, waiting for his answer.

He touched the side of her mouth with his thumb. “I can’t make any promises. It wouldn’t be fair.”

She exhaled. “Good.”

“Good?”

She nodded. “Then you can leave and not say good-bye, like I asked. Because there’s a chance you’ll be back. Someday.”

Their gazes locked until the waiter appeared, and they broke apart as he placed two plates of food on the table.

Some kind of intense silence hung over them as they began to eat. He was sure she felt it, too, this connection between them. They were in a restaurant, and yet it seemed the rest of the world didn’t exist.

After they’d finished half their meals he topped off her wineglass. He then broke off another piece of chocolate and placed it on her tongue.

He took a sip of wine but didn’t swallow. Then he leaned in and kissed her, letting the wine spill into her mouth. Her body slackened as she swallowed, and he pulled back to look into her eyes.

Her lids fluttered open slowly. He sucked in a breath. She was so fucking turned on, he could see it in the deep blue of her eyes; he could see everything there.

And it was too much. There was a sense of urgency thrumming through his veins, and he couldn’t ignore it. He wasn’t sure if it was the time restraint or just being with her that did him in, and at the moment it really didn’t matter. All that mattered was being inside Ruby making her his. Now.

Running the pad of his finger over the back of her hand, he felt her tremble. “Ruby. I want you to go into the bathroom and get yourself ready for me.”

Her gaze darted around the room quickly before landing back on his.

“Go on now, baby. I want you.”

“You want me to what?”

“Any way I can have you. Now, hurry.”

Her mouth twitched in a hidden smile. “Yes, Mark.”

Yes, Mark.
Every time she said that the throbbing in his cock jumped up a notch. And his hammering heart did, too.

“Go into the bathroom and lift up your skirt. Take off your panties. Then touch yourself, masturbate until you are about to come. But don’t.”

She narrowed her eyes, and he saw how badly she wanted to come. Needed to come. He watched the flush on her cheeks spread to her upper chest, saw her glance dart down the hallway to where the restrooms were. She didn’t need much more encouragement.

“Go.”

One last glance at him and she slid out of the booth, taking her purse with her. He watched her walk away.

Running a hand over his scalp, he tried to be patient. He imagined Ruby in the bathroom, her skirt hiked up to her waist, her hand between her legs. She’d be wet, on edge within minutes. He’d made sure of it.

She wasn’t the only one on edge.

He took another few sips of wine; they hadn’t even finished half a bottle, but he didn’t care about the wine. He just wanted to be with Ruby. With her. Inside her.

Instead he stared out the window at the sailboats bobbing on the bay. Waited for his erection to subside so he could actually walk through the dining room without scaring people.

The bill hadn’t arrived, but he threw a wad of cash on the table and stood. His heart thudded as he made his way down a carpeted hallway. There were two unisex bathrooms, and he knocked softly on the first door.

“Ruby?” he murmured.

A second later the door popped open. He stepped inside and turned the lock. Her back was to him, and she was bent over, her legs spread wide. Her beautiful pussy glistened, waiting. For him.

“Goddamn, Ruby. You’re…” He trailed off. She was too good for words.

Her hair hung loose around her face as she glanced over her shoulder. “I did what you said, Mark. I masturbated, but I didn’t let myself come. I waited for you, but I can’t wait much longer.”

He jerked a condom out of his pocket and tugged his jeans down. “I’m here, I’m right here.” Wrapping his hands around her hips, he pulled her to him. He entered her in a smooth, slippery motion that made her cry out. With her head thrown back, her hair draped nearly to her waist. He wrapped the length in his fist, tugged gently, and she moaned.

He withdrew and slid in, again and again, until she was begging, crying out, meeting his thrusts with a jarring force, as if she couldn’t get it deep enough, hard enough.

“Yeah, baby. Perfect; you’re perfect. Just like that.”

She shuddered, and he wasn’t in control anymore, not of her, not of himself. He slid in one final time, losing himself totally in his own climax.

He caught his breath and pulled out of her. His hands shook as he stripped the condom off and threw it into the trash can. Yanking up his boxers and his jeans, he turned to her.

“Ruby, I’m sorry.”

She was still hanging over the sink, her skirt pulled up to reveal her smooth ass. Grinning, she glanced back at him, a glossy, satisfied look in her eyes. “What are you sorry for?”

He removed his glasses and rubbed them with the hem of his T-shirt. “I rushed things… I just couldn’t hold back.”

Straightening, she turned to face him and pulled down her skirt. “I don’t
want
you to hold back.”

He shook his head. “You don’t understand.”

Reaching out, she touched his shoulder. “I do. You don’t have to be in control every second, all the time.”

He met her gaze. “What are you talking about?”

She crossed her arms over her chest. “Now it’s my turn to give you the psychological profile. This control thing of yours? It’s how you stay disconnected.”

“I’m not disconnected.” How could she say that? He’d never felt so connected to anyone in his life.

She laughed wryly. “Are you kidding? Ever since that day you opened up in my kitchen, you’ve been distant. I asked you about the future and it scared you.”

He just stared at her, knowing she was right. Because when he saw Ruby, he saw a future, and it made everything inside him clench whenever he thought about it.

She went on. “You say this controlling dom persona is who you are, but I’m wondering if it’s just a pretense.”

“I know a few girls who can vouch that this
dom persona
is no act, doll.”

“See? You can’t even settle on an endearment. ‘Baby, sweetheart, doll.’ It’s all the same.”

His body stiff, he took a step closer to her. “I’ve never claimed to be some kind of saint.”

She met him head-on. “Oh, that’s for sure. And isn’t that the beauty of being a dom? It’s the perfect excuse to love ’em and leave ’em. Shit, you even have a verbal contract before you do the deed, don’t you? It’s called
negotiating
, and you’re damn good at it.”

“You’re wrong.” But her words hit home. Because the thing was, when he was with her, it was easy to let go. There were no parents to pacify, no music to write, no manager pushing for a better hook.

And Ruby. She was different. For the first time in a long time, he could let his guard down. Be himself. She didn’t care if he was in control or not. She didn’t care if he was in a band. She just seemed to like him for who he was: Mark St. Crow, a band geek from Akron with a fetish for spanking women.

Which meant he could really fall for her.

He felt his cell phone vibrating in his back pocket. Glad for the distraction, he pulled it out and flipped it open.

“Yeah,” he said into the phone.

“Where the fuck are you?” Yvette demanded.

He turned away from Ruby’s vulnerable eyes. “Out. What’s up?”

“Oh, I’m just kicking back with a reporter from the
San Francisco Review
. You know? The biggest entertainment paper in northern California? The one who’s supposed to be interviewing us
right fucking now
?”

“Shit!” Mark hit the wall with the side of his fist. “What time am I supposed to be there?”

“An hour ago.”

“Goddamn it. Okay, stall him. Tell him I hit traffic, anything.”

“I did. But you have fifteen minutes to get here, so move your ass.
Now.
”

He clicked his phone shut and faced Ruby, who was looking at him as if she’d expected this all along. The disappointment in her gaze made his entire chest ache. And yet, something in him was glad for the reason to bolt. “Listen,” he said. “Can we finish this conversation later? Right now I need to get over to the studio.”

She nodded. “Go. It’s your job. I understand.” He knew she wasn’t just saying the words; she was a businesswoman, who did understand.

He tucked in his T-shirt. “I’ll get you a cab.”

“It’s okay.” She waved away his protest. “Seriously,” she said, pulling a hairbrush out of her purse. “I’d rather not leave the bathroom with you anyway. Who knows who might see us?”

“Crap.” He hadn’t even thought of that. She’d turned to the mirror, and he kissed the back of her head. “I’ll call you later.”

Meeting his eyes in their reflection, she smiled. But it was a shaky smile, and her eyes looked closed off. She was shutting him out. “It’s probably best if you don’t, actually.”

“Why?”

Her eyes were sad, and it was so much worse than if she’d been pissed. She waved her hand around the bathroom. “This is why. I can’t do this. We both know your music has to come first. It
should
come first, and even though I know you have to focus on your music, I can’t help wishing that I was just as important to you. But I’m not—no one can be. So please, just go. It’s for the best.”

He stared at her and, just for a second, he wondered if maybe she was right. Because at that moment he wanted to ignore the interview and stay with Ruby. For the first time in his life, he considered putting something—
someone
—before his music.

Silently, he turned on his heel and walked out the door.

Chapter
Eighteen