Dare to Surrender Page 14

  “Is this what you wanted?” Erica asked.

  “No.”

  Erica blinked up at him; had she made a terrible mistake? Blaine met her gaze, his brown eyes searching, intense.

  But then he tugged her closer. “This is what I wanted.” He kissed her, kissed her like a man, not like a preppy or a prude or any of the things she’d pegged him for.

  When he pulled back, she was breathless, mindless. Her eyes fluttered open. Her heart hammered, and she knew only one thing. “Don’t stop,” she said.

  Turning so Erica was the one backed up to the table, he pushed the dress down her arms and off her body. She stood before him in the practical underwear she wore for work—a cotton bra and unexciting boyshorts. He stepped back to rake his gaze over her, and she wished she had donned sexier panties. She waved a hand across her torso. “I wasn’t planning on anyone seeing me… like this….”

  And he was still staring at her with that look, the one he’d given her when he’d first seen her tattooed arms.

  She straightened her spine. “I bet I’m nothing like the girls you usually go out with.”

  “That’s for sure.”

  His words stung, and she didn’t want them to.

  “You’re a hell of a lot sexier,” he said, and came closer. “I hate all that fancy shit girls wear. I like…”

  “What?” she whispered.

  “You.”

  Her heart was in her throat as he fingered the amethyst at her throat and kissed her. Then his warm fingers went lower, to unclasp her bra and toss it aside. Her breasts were not small, but when he cupped them in his large hands, they fit perfectly. She gasped when he grazed a nipple with his thumb.

  She ignored the goose bumps on her arms. “It took me all night, and I still didn’t get the orange zest right. And you walk in, and just like that! Perfect.”

  “I told you. I’m the better chef.” But he was smiling, his arms surrounding her as he leaned forward.

  “But you’re damn good, and now I’m going to reap the reward of your hard work.” He reached beside them and lifted a wooden spoonful of the custard out of the saucepan. He then poured the creamy mixture onto Erica’s chest, decorating her breasts and her nipples with the sweet yellow sauce.

  “Wanna taste?” Without waiting for a reply, Blaine pushed the spoon across Erica’s lips. “How is it?”

  “Delicious,” she breathed.

  His gaze focused on Erica as she slowly swept her tongue across the edge of the spoon. When every last bite of custard was gone, she looked into his brown eyes. His intense look sent a fresh wave of desire over her. And then he took the spoon and scooped up more of the sauce, slowly dripping the creamy liquid over Erica’s chest before he tossed the spoon aside.

  She trembled as he dipped one of her fingers in the sauce and then placed it in her mouth. She sucked her finger as he licked her breasts, cleaning every bit of the creamy sauce off her body. The custard was sweet and tangy, with the perfect amount of citrus. She licked her own finger, pretended it was him, imagining she was swirling her tongue around his cock.

  With a groan, she felt Blaine’s tongue on her skin, taking his time to explore the curves of her breasts. She saw his gaze fix on her taut nipples, and he whispered, “Perfect.”

  He sucked and licked every last drop of orange custard off her chest.

  It was too much.

  Straightening, she pulled his mouth to hers. He pressed back, stepping between her thighs, and she felt his hard erection through his khakis.

  Erica shuddered. “Ah…”

  He reached between her legs and pulled her panties aside. “So tell me, Erica, do preppy boys do this?” He fingered her clit until she felt her own juices coating her sex.

  “I don’t know,” she said, her voice breathy. “I’ve never let one try before.”

  “What about this?” He sank his fingers into her sex in a solid thrust that sent her reeling back, moaning aloud. “Oh, God…”

  Blaine whispered into her ear as he continued, out, in, back and forth, “Admit it.”

  “No.”

  Enter, retreat. Hard and deep.

  “Admit it, sweetheart. You like me.”

  “No…” Adrenaline pumped through Erica’s veins, nearly overpowering the arousal coursing through her. He felt so good, and she was so wet. Even though it was wrong, and she knew she’d hate herself afterward, she couldn’t help the words coming from her mouth.

  “I’m going to come, Blaine; don’t stop, please don’t stop.”

  “I’m not stopping. I’m not going anywhere. I’m right here, sweetheart.” He thrust his fingers into her once more, and Erica reached between her legs to hold his hand still, keeping him buried deep inside her sex as she came. Her orgasm nearly overwhelmed her, and when she thought she’d collapse in a heap, he was there to catch her. To hold her.

  God, it felt good to be in his arms. To feel his hands on her skin, stroking her arms, her hair.

  She jerked back. What the heck had she done?

  Her hands shook as she pulled her clothes back on and dressed. Not sure what to do with herself, she went to the sink and washed her hands. The stillness of the empty building seemed to scream between them.

  “Erica?”

  “I’m sorry, Blaine.”

  “Why?” He sounded truly confused.

  “I shouldn’t have let that happen.”

  “I let it happen, too. I wanted it to happen.”

  Still facing away, Erica dried her hands. She didn’t know why she felt so wrong, so guilty.

  Even though she’d just scrubbed her hands, she didn’t feel clean enough. She’d succumbed to a man who epitomized everything she hated.

  And she hadn’t said no. In fact, he’d begged him—-begged him!

  Erica crossed her arms over her chest. “Can we just forget this ever happened?”

  “No.”

  “No?”

  Blaine shook his head. “One day you’re going to let go of that humongous chip on your shoulder and get to know me. You think you have me all figured out, but I may just surprise you. I’m not pretending this never happened.”

  Fury boiled up inside her. “I told you. Even if I did find you attractive, which I don’t—”

  “Right,” he said with a smug smile.

  “I’m not exactly the type of girl you’d bring home to Mommy.”

  “Who said anything about bringing you home to my mother? I just want to get to know you better.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I like you. Is that so difficult to understand?”

  She thought back to all the rich boys who, over the years, had said the exact same thing. But in the end they just wanted to have fun with the bad girl.

  Blaine wasn’t any different. She was sure of it.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Needless to say, Panos was thrilled that Joy was curating an exhibit by Ash Hunter. “Good girl,” he’d said, and he had actually patted her on the head. But Joy had just smiled patiently at him.

  She was too busy to worry much about Panos. She was too busy preparing for the opening-night reception. They’d scheduled it for the first week in December, just in time for some erotic gift-giving.

  She’d tracked down the couple who’d purchased Ash’s sculpture, and, unbeknownst to Panos, she’d persuaded them to send it back in exchange for a full refund. A refund that would break her bank account, but it was less stressful than the thought of Ash knowing she’d stolen from him and lied to him. Because she was convinced he’d see her little omission as a lie. And wasn’t it?

  Pulling an antacid tablet out of her purse, she popped it into her mouth. She’d put her plan to get the sculpture back into action, but things weren’t going as quickly as she’d hoped. The sculpture should have been back by now. She’d tracked the package every day, but storms in the Midwest had held up deliveries, and at the moment, there was nothing she could do about it. Instead, she focused on the upcoming event.

&
nbsp; She wanted the night to be perfect, and because she was perfectly aware of her own lack of organizational skills, on Friday Joy called her neighbor, Ruby the event planner, for help.

  The rain had moved on, leaving San Francisco with a clear blue sky and a warm fall day. Telling Panos she needed the rest of the day out of the gallery to plan for the event, she drove across town to meet Ruby at her main place of business, the café called Savor.

  The streets were packed, and she ended up parking in a garage a few blocks away. She descended the stairwell and emerged onto a small side street. And when she looked up, she froze.

  “Fuck,” she whispered. This was the best one yet. The spray-painted mural was an interpretation of van Gogh’s sunflowers, a bright, vibrant flash of yellow against a gray brick wall. “Who are you?” she murmured as she taped her card to the building.

  She could have stayed much longer staring at the art, but she was already late to meet Ruby. She found her sitting at a table on the sidewalk, peering at the contents of a manila folder through huge Jackie O. sunglasses.

  “Joy!” Ruby said with a smile, standing to give her a hug. “I’m so glad you called.”

  Joy took a seat across from her gorgeous neighbor. As usual, Ruby was impeccably dressed, from her green peep-toe pumps to her sixties-era dress and cardigan draped over her shoulders. Joy immediately felt frumpy in her long skirt, usual flats, and sweater.

  After they’d placed their orders, Ruby turned to her. “I’ve barely seen you around the building lately. What have you been up to?”

  “Well, that’s one of the reasons I called you. You know Ash Hunter?” Joy laughed a bit nervously. “Of course you do; he was your boyfriend, right?”

  “Yes. Good guy. Bad boyfriend.” Grinning, Ruby sipped her latte.

  But Joy couldn’t help but focus on that last part. “Bad boyfriend?”

  “I’m sure you know the type, doing what you do. Artists can be a bit… distracted.”

  “I have noticed that. But what about you? Aren’t you dating a musician? Isn’t he distracted a lot of the time?”

  At the mention of her boyfriend, Ruby’s entire face brightened. “Yes, definitely. But we laid down some ground rules, and it seems to be working.”

  “So, it is possible to make it work?”

  Sliding her sunglasses off her nose, Ruby leaned forward. “Joy, are you thinking of getting involved with Ash?”

  “Um…” She felt her face heat and took a large sip of ice water.

  “It’s too late, isn’t it?” Ruby stated.

  Joy shrugged, wishing she could slide under the table and away from Ruby’s knowing stare. Would Ruby be mad that Joy had been getting it on with her ex-boyfriend?

  Ruby reached out and touched her hand. “Just be careful, Joy.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I know what it’s like to be with guys like that, guys who make you feel like you’re the center of the universe, like you’re the most beautiful creature on the planet.”

  Joy felt her body heat from the words. That was exactly how Ash made Joy feel.

  “I’m not saying Ash can’t fall in love,” Ruby said. “But he has a short attention span. I don’t want you to get hurt like I did.”

  Joy didn’t want to know, but she couldn’t help herself. “What happened?”

  Sighing, Ruby leaned back in her chair. “We’d been together a year, and I found a pair of underwear in his bedroom. G-string. I don’t wear G-strings.” She lowered her voice. “Well, I didn’t at the time.” The server placed two plates of food on the table. “Thanks, Bree.”

  “So he cheated on you?” Joy asked.

  “He denied it, of course. And to be honest, I don’t know for sure. One thing about Ash is that he’s generally very honest; in fact, he hates liars.”

  “So I hear,” Joy said, taking a big bite of her BLT, hoping it would settle her nervous stomach.

  Ruby looked thoughtful. “And to be honest, I wonder if I was relieved to have an excuse to end it. There was always something disconnected about… well, about the bondage aspect of our relationship.”

  Interesting. Joy felt nothing but connection when Ash tied her. Still, Ruby’s words hit a chord with Joy. He was definitely distracted, and it wasn’t as if he’d ever asked her for anything other than sex.

  “Anyway, just be careful,” Ruby said.

  Why did everyone keep saying that to her? Did she really come off as that unable to look after herself?

  Shaking her head, Joy watched two smartly dressed women walking by, carrying large shopping bags. The area was known for the unique boutiques and stylish salons. Unfortunately, every time Joy went into one of the stores, she was overwhelmed by choices and nearly always left without making any purchases.

  Ruby moved her hand as if to wave the topic of Ash out of the air. If only it were so easy. “Enough of that. How can I help with your big opening reception?”

  Joy paused, taking in Ruby’s chic appearance. “Actually, I was wondering if you might help me with something else after lunch. Do you have time?”

  Ruby raised a brow. “I could spare an hour or two. What do you have in mind?”

  “How does some shopping sound?” Joy asked with a grin.

  “Well, shopping always sounds good. In fact, for shopping I can definitely spare an hour… or three.”

  “No, that would look horrible on me!”

  Ruby rolled her eyes and thrust the emerald dress onto the pile of clothes Joy already held in her arms. “Joy, you say that about every piece of clothing I pick out. Do you trust my judgment or not?”

  “Yes, but—”

  “No buts. Now get into that dressing room!”

  Biting her lip, Joy went into the dressing room and hung the stack of clothing on the metal hooks attached to the walls. Shopping had sounded like such a good idea at the time, but now that she was actually about to try on clothes, nerves were going crazy in her belly and her palms were damp. Memories of shopping with her grandmother flitted through her head, and she pushed down a wave of nausea.

  Girls like you shouldn’t wear anything that tight, Joy! Your hips look huge in those jeans, darling! You need to hide your voluptuous breasts, Joy, not wear tops with vulgar, low-cut necklines!

  Ultimately, those shopping trips always ended with Joy standing red-faced and embarrassed behind her grandmother as she paid for the clothing the older woman always ended up picking out.

  And now Joy held up the green dress Ruby had chosen, hearing her grandmother’s voice: What are you thinking with that color? With that crazy hair of yours, you need to stay with neutrals!

  But Joy liked the color of the dress and decided she was going to trust Ruby’s opinion enough to at least try it on.

  As she undressed, she avoided looking at her nearly naked form in the mirror, and when the dress was on, she took a deep breath and walked out of the dressing room.

  Ruby gasped. “Oh, my God, look at you!”

  Joy rubbed the fabric against her thighs. “I’m sure I look ridiculous.”

  “Well, you’re wrong. Turn around and see for yourself.”

  Slowly Joy turned to face her reflection, staring back at her in all its three-dimensional glory. The stretchy fabric clung to her hips, her waist, and flared out around her knees. It was low-cut enough to show some cleavage, and the color made her hair seem even redder.

  Her grandmother would hate it.

  But, surprisingly, Joy felt pretty good in the dress, and maybe it was her imagination, but as she gazed in the mirror, she thought she looked pretty good, too.

  “Oh, that color is fabulous on you!” the saleswoman said, approaching with a pair of strappy sandals in her hand. “Size seven, right? Try these on.”

  Joy looked to Ruby for the go-ahead, to which Ruby nodded vigorously. She was still a bit unsure about the dress, but she sat on a bench and slipped the shoes onto her feet. Standing, she looked in the mirror again.

  “I think she needs th
at dress in a smaller size,” the saleswoman said.

  “Mmm. Could be.” Ruby had her finger to her lips and was studying Joy’s form with the eye of an expert. “It does seem a bit big in the waist.”

  “No,” Joy protested. “It’s a ten. I’m always a ten.”

  “Darling, you need to try the eight, or even the six.”

  “But I’ve been wearing this size for years!”

  “Joy,” Ruby said. “When was the last time you went shopping?”

  “Um.” Joy shifted unsteadily on the wobbly sandals. “I bought a pair of jeans last year?”

  Ruby looked horrified. “Oh, dear. Well, I’m glad we’re about to put an end to that very disturbing state of affairs.” She gave Joy a gentle push toward the dressing room. “Back in you go. I can’t wait to see you in that cobalt top. Try it with the black denim skirt, the one with the flare.”

  Joy went back into the dressing room and removed the dress. Pausing, she said through the curtain, “Ruby?”

  “Yeah?”

  “How do you know how to pick out clothes so well? I mean, did you learn it or is it instinct?” Joy blushed; she sounded like a total idiot. But she really wanted to know, and it wasn’t as if Erica was any help. She shopped only in thrift shops, and Joy never could bring herself to wear used clothing.

  But if Ruby thought Joy was lame, she didn’t show it. “I’ve always loved clothes, especially vintage. I tend to shop a lot. Too much, some might say,” she added with a laugh.

  “Oh, so it is a natural thing.” Joy was doomed, she thought as she pulled on the skirt. It was also a size ten, and Joy couldn’t help but notice it was big around the waist.

  “Not necessarily. You just need to try on things that appeal to you and learn to focus on your assets.”

  “I don’t have any assets,” Joy mumbled.

  “You have a tiny waist and great tits. That’s what you need to emphasize.”

  Joy thought Ruby was insane; she didn’t have a tiny anything. But she continued to try on clothes, trusting Ruby’s advice and even learning a few things along the way. Yellow didn’t look good on her (which was unfortunate because she had quite a few yellow items already at home), it was okay to buy a V-necked shirt, and A-line skirts made her waist look smaller.