Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 78521 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 393(@200wpm)___ 314(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78521 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 393(@200wpm)___ 314(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
I suck another oyster off its half shell. She reaches for her phone and snaps a photo of me.
“You’re not thinking about posting that,” I say after swallowing.
“As a matter of fact, that’s exactly what I’m thinking of doing.” She giggles. “Influencing isn’t just about sponsored posts.”
“I’m happy to pose in a selfie with you,” I say, “but oyster slurping? Not going to happen.”
She huffs softly. “Fine.” She moves to my side of the table, snaps a quick selfie, and then sits back down in her chair and sends the post.
I pull out my phone.
Slurping oysters with @bradenblackinc! #unionoysterhouse #oysterslurping #bostonsfinest
I dab another oyster with cocktail sauce and slurp it into my mouth. Delicious. The brine and salt with the tomato and horseradish is perfection.
“Are you going to try one just with a twist of lemon?” Skye asks.
“Sorry. I like the cocktail sauce.”
“You have a little smudge of it on the corner of your mouth,” she says.
I smile, imagine her licking it from me. Then I pat my napkin to it, removing the sauce.
“Braden…”
“Yes?”
“I wouldn’t have taken the deal with Heather.”
I suppress a smile. “I know.”
“Then why did you interfere?”
“Because I know business. Crystal’s Closet isn’t the best-run corporation, and I don’t particularly want you getting involved.”
“You just said you knew I wasn’t going to take the deal.”
“I know you wouldn’t have taken the deal as she first expressed it. The two of you may have come to terms.”
She finishes off her bourbon. “What’s wrong with how they run their business?”
“They have some questionable investments.”
“Like what?”
“Suffice it to say they keep a substantial amount of their assets in banks in the Cayman Islands, which is a huge red flag.”
“Why?”
“Cayman banks are tax havens. That’s certainly not a bad thing. I have investments there myself. But Cayman banks also take confidentiality very seriously. Hence the red flag.”
“Meaning?”
“Money laundering, Skye.”
“That’s a pretty significant accusation, Braden.”
“I’m not making an accusation. I’m just telling you it’s a red flag. If my girlfriend is going to model sexy clothes, I want to make sure the company she’s doing it for is red-flag free.”
She smiles slyly. “So it’s okay for me to model sexy clothes? Just not underwear and bustiers?”
That’s a loaded question. Skye would look sexy in a burlap sack, so I can’t tell her not to pose in sexy clothes. She’s sexy in everything.
“You really want to have this conversation in public?”
“Yes,” she says adamantly. “Because it’s my body, my choice. If I want to model sexy clothes, I’ll model sexy clothes.”
“Even if I’d rather you didn’t?” I burn her with my gaze.
“Why not? That GQ spread showed you in skivvies, for God’s sake.”
A raucous laugh flies out of my throat. I hated that photo shoot. Hated it with a red passion. I wore a skintight speedo on the beach and boxer briefs in a lounge chair. I’ll never wear a speedo again. It was damned uncomfortable. And posing in underwear? Let’s just say it wasn’t my idea and leave it at that. My girlfriend—more like a friend with benefits—at the time, Aretha, who’s a fashion model, convinced me it would be good for my image. As she’s in the industry, I took her advice.
Never again.
“Skye, I’ve said it before. You are a challenge.”
She smiles.
But it’s more than a simple innocent smile.
It’s a smile that says she thinks I’m a challenge as well.
So be it.
“Grasp the rungs of the headboard, Skye.”
I made quick work of her clothes as soon as we got back to my place. I return from my dresser drawer with two different types of bindings. I secure them to each outside rung of the headboard.
“Give me your hand.”
She reaches toward me with her right hand. I secure it by buckling it into a leather cuff, which is attached to a thick leather cord and then to the outside rung. Her arms will be spread out like a Y, but she’ll have some movement.
I secure her other wrist on the other side of the headboard.
“Let me know if you have any pain,” I say. “This shouldn’t be painful, although it is a stretch, and you will use some muscles you’re not used to using.”
“I will.”
“This is one of my favorite positions, Skye. I’ve waited a long time to try it with you.” I walk back toward the dresser but then turn to the antique wardrobe. I open it.
Skye gasps.
The wardrobe is filled with implements. Toys of all kinds. I return to the bed with what looks like a step stool to the untrained eye, only it’s not high enough to help anyone but the tallest person reach something. The top is cushioned with black leather.
“Lift your hips,” I command.
She obeys, and I slide the stool underneath her.
Then I gaze at her, subtly licking my lips. “Very nice.”
She says nothing, just absently tugs on the bindings holding her.