Total pages in book: 118
Estimated words: 110201 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 551(@200wpm)___ 441(@250wpm)___ 367(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 110201 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 551(@200wpm)___ 441(@250wpm)___ 367(@300wpm)
But there was a definite shift in tone. The first half had been pain.
The second one would be absolute pleasure.
THIRTEEN
I was out late on Friday with Cassidy when my phone rang, and my pulse kicked when Clay’s name flashed on the screen.
“Hey, there,” I said into my phone as I flashed an apologetic smile to my friend. She waved a hand, and I stood from the table, heading off to a quieter section of the bar that served just enough food to qualify as a restaurant.
“Hi,” Clay said. “So, I just got home and—”
“Oh, yeah? How was your flight?”
“It was fine.” There was something in his voice I couldn’t identify. Curiosity? Confusion? “Any idea where the food in my fridge came from?”
I laughed softly. “Yeah. You told me you wouldn’t be getting in until late, and since you’re only home for forty-eight hours, I bought some stuff to get you through the weekend. I thought I’d save you the time of having to go out.”
“Oh.” He paused, and then pleasant surprise clung to his words. “That was . . . nice of you.”
Even though he couldn’t see me, I smiled and shrugged. “It was kind of self-serving. This way you have more time to decompress,” I filled my words with extra meaning, “and, you know, work on your projects.”
I could hear his smile in his voice. “I see.”
This corner of the lobby was quiet, but all the sound faded out until it was just him. He was back. When I went home this evening, he’d be right next door. No more two-dimensional Clay to play with. It’d be his hands on my body.
“Thank you, Lilith.” His gratitude made warmth bloom in my chest. “You should come over tomorrow afternoon so I can work on my new favorite project.”
My heart skipped.
I stood in Clay’s workshop, drinking the glass of lemonade he’d poured me, and watched him work, but anticipation vibrated as nervous energy inside my body. He wasn’t aware. He was busy gluing and clamping pieces together of the kneeler he was building for the client we’d met at Club Eros. While I studied him, I also had one eye on the St. Andrew’s cross.
“Did you ever think about using a model for your pieces?” I asked.
He tightened the final clamp. “Sometimes I do before I scale up. I want to make sure the proportions are right.”
What?
Oh. I gave a half of a laugh at the misunderstanding. “I meant like a person. I think it’d be helpful for your potential customers to see your stuff in use.” I walked over to the chair we’d used during our last session. “There are a lot of options here. Different places to clip onto, and then there’s the spreader bar. You can put a bunch of pictures in the gallery for this, but without someone sitting in it? It’s hard to get a sense of what it’s capable of.”
He made a face. “I get what you’re saying, but I wouldn’t even know where to start with that.”
Because he was private, and he wouldn’t want a stranger coming to his house, and definitely not down to his workshop.
But I wasn’t a stranger.
I affected a dramatic, wistful voice. “If only you knew someone who loved your work, especially when they’re handcuffed to it . . . Wherever could you find a girl like that, I wonder?”
His attention was no longer on what he’d been doing, it was set on me and he asked it with total disbelief. “Are you volunteering?”
“What if I am?” I ran a fingertip seductively across the chair back.
It was interesting to see how this excited him as my partner, but also as a businessman. His gaze turned to the storage closet as he considered my offer. “I have a lot of pieces.”
“And I have all afternoon,” I said.
“You want to do this?” He put a hand on his hip and shifted his weight to one side. “I can blur your face, but you’re okay with these pictures being shown to other people?”
I laughed. “Yeah. Remember when I was waiting naked for you when you got home? I don’t mind who sees me. Hell, if I had more time, I’d probably make an OnlyFans account.” My cousin Heather made good money there. “You don’t need to blur my face. I assume you have a blindfold.”
“I do.”
This hadn’t been on his agenda for us today, and he visibly struggled with what to do. He hated being surprised, but he didn’t want to miss out on an opportunity.
“This doesn’t have to derail your plans,” I said. “You can still do all the things to me you want to.” I nodded toward the St. Andrew’s cross. “As long as your plan includes using that.”
His eyes filled with dark heat. “Oh, it does.”
Decision made, he took the glass of lemonade from me, plunked it down on top of the tool cabinet nearby, and gave me a discerning look.