SummerSins (4 page)

“Close your eyes. Trust me.”

She searched his face, trying to figure out what he had
planned.

“You’re hesitating. A sub would follow an order immediately.
Cynthia said you could trust me, right?”

She nodded and closed her eyes.

“Relax.” He glided his fingers up and down her arm then the
other arm. She shivered then he paused and moved up to her shoulders and neck.
The anticipation of where he’d touch her next excited her and heightened her
response. Her body was on fire. His caresses were so sensual, so hypnotic and
they turned her on. Tilting her chin, she gave him access to touch her neck,
and he stroked her, tripping over her collarbone. Her blood pounded in her
ears. Then he stopped touching her and her breathing increased. What happened?
Why did he stop? She wasn’t going to open her eyes because he didn’t tell her
to.

The salty scent of the ocean mingled with the sweet smell of
night jasmine. She hadn’t noticed the jasmine blooms anywhere before but the
smell drifted on the breeze. Voices surrounded her, laughter and moans,
footsteps, all at a distance.

“Focus on me and what I’m doing,” Adrian said, his voice now
in front of her.

Her pussy throbbed. Images of Carter’s fingers thrusting
into Cynthia got her hotter and she wanted Adrian to do the same. Her legs
opened a little wider. Then he touched her ankle, sliding slowly, past her calf
to her knee, up to her thigh. “Yes,” she whispered. He crossed over to her
other leg and down to her ankle.
Please touch my breasts, my pussy.
The
words screamed in her head but she didn’t dare say them aloud.

He stopped touching her again and she groaned. Anxiously she
waited for his next touch, but it didn’t happen. Was that it? Was he done? She
wouldn’t open her eyes. He said to trust him. Was this the test? Her clit
throbbed so hard that if he touched her there she’d probably come instantly.

“Good girl. Open your eyes.”

She did and he had moved his chair so he sat directly in
front of her. “Was that my test?”

“One of many. You did well.” He lifted her chin and she
hoped he would kiss her. “It’s late and you said you needed to work tomorrow.
I’ll walk you to your car. I’ll pick you up at seven tomorrow for dinner. You
can give me your number on the way out.”

“Okay.” Her voice sounded shaky even to her.

“I have another test.” He took her hand and helped her to
her feet and kept hold to make sure she was steady.

“More tests to see if I can submit to you? Aren’t you taking
most of the fun out it?”

He laughed at that. “I need to see if we can connect, if
you’re receptive as a submissive or if you’re a wannabe. Wannabes get hurt. I
don’t want to hurt anyone.”

“That’s fair,” she said. “What’s the next test?”

“You’ll just have to wait and see,” he said with a sexy
smile.

The next day at work Emma squirmed at her desk, writing and
rewriting her article about TropiX and Dark Odyssey. No matter how hard she
tried, she couldn’t focus and find the right angle. She’d witnessed a few
scenes then played around with Adrian. No thrilling stories, no shocking
details or names except for the supermodel. The article would be dull. Not
Scandal
material.

The other reporters at
Scandal
magazine seemed
totally oblivious to her unease. They completed articles, printed them out and
walked the hard copies to Vivian’s office. Ms. Pearlman, the publisher, had
asked for the article to be on her desk by three. It was two. Emma was screwed.
She still had to stop by the animal shelter on her way home and put in an hour
or two then get ready for her date. The phone rang and she jumped.

“
Scandal
magazine, Emma speaking.”

“Emma, how was TropiX? Did you get your little tushy
whipped?” Camille Lyons asked. Thank god, a friendly voice. Although Emma’s
boss wouldn’t like that she was talking to Camille, the office manager of the
legal firm that filed several lawsuits against previous articles. Fortunately
the suits never held ground.

“Interesting. I’m trying to write up the article now. I
think I’ll have to go back because I didn’t get all the details.”

“Make sure you get permission to use people’s names so we
don’t end up filing another suit,” Camille reminded her.

“Of course.” That never stopped
Scandal
,or
any other tabloid paper, in the past.

“Meet any hot guys?”

A jolt of need and throbbing began all over when she thought
about Adrian. She squeezed her thighs together. She hadn’t slept much. Getting
herself off might have eased the tension but she didn’t dare. Somehow she knew
he would know if she did. “Yes, I’m seeing him tonight for dinner.”

“What’s he like? Is he a swinger?”

“He’s hot. He’s a surgeon and built like a Marine. He’s not
a swinger, he’s a Dom.”

“Oh.” Her voice lost its enthusiasm. “Is that something
you’re interested in, on your bucket list?”

“More than a bucket list item. It’s something I feel
compelled to explore.”

“Then go for it. Let me know how it goes.”

Emma noticed her boss coming out of her office. “Gotta go,
Camille. Talk soon.” When she hung up, she finished what she had in the article
and printed it up. Vivian walked straight to Emma’s desk.

“How did your field trip to TropiX go? Where’s the article?”
Vivian said, tapping a finger on her crossed arms. The fortyish woman wore a
pale-gray business suit and low-cut red tank. Designer-framed glasses sat on
the tip of a perfectly shaped nose.

“I have it here but it’s a rough draft,” Emma said. “I had a
difficult time finding out names. I may have to go back.”

Vivian snatched the paper away and skimmed through it,
shaking her head. “No, no, no. We can’t use this.
Sun Sentinel
or
Miami
Herald
could write this. Where’s the juice? The controversy? Details?
There’re no details here. It’s all vague. Boring. Try again. Go back if you
have to. If you can’t do this, I’ll find someone else who can. I’ve given
previous reporters excellent recommendations. And with my connections, they’re
working at places like
Glamour
,
USA Today
,
Sports Illustrated
.
If you don’t do better, I can’t see you having a position here at all.” She
tossed the sheet of paper on Emma’s desk and stomped away.

James, a fellow reporter, strolled up to Emma’s desk. He was
a little older and had worked at
Scandal
for years. She was smart enough
not to trust him. “What’s the witch all hot about? Didn’t she like your article
about TropiX?”

“How did you know I had that assignment?”

James shrugged. “I must’ve heard you talking. How did you
like the club? Need help?”

“Thanks, but I got it.”

He nodded, leaning against her desk. “Great. If you need a
fake date, let me know. I can go next time. I’m curious to see what goes on in
that place.”

And he’d probably get the story too. No way.

* * * * *

“Coming into work on your weekend off, Dr. Cayne? Are you
trying to make a favorable impression?” Dr. Torres, the chief of staff, asked
Adrian. His boss was almost a foot shorter than he, but his smugness was so
profound he managed to look down at Adrian.

Adrian put the last of several patient charts down. “Just
checking on a few patients. I didn’t expect to see you here today. Weren’t you
and your wife going to the Caymans?” Actually he did know Torres would be in to
work and he was trying to make a good impression.

“Not for a few weeks. After the South Shore Gala,” he said.
“If you want to impress me I’m sure you plan to attend. The proceeds will be
going to the new children’s cancer wing.”

“Of course I’m planning on going.” He almost forgot about
it. The upscale event cost five hundred dollars a plate and he wasn’t sure if
he should buy two tickets.

“I certainly hope you’ll bring someone classy and
appropriate for an event such as the gala, not like that last fling of yours.”

“I’m sure I’ll find a suitable date for the gala.” Would
Emma consider going? She was beautiful and classy. An animal-shelter worker
wasn’t exactly Dr. Torres’ idea of Miami’s socialite crowd. But Adrian thought
she was gorgeous, polite, intelligent and very hot.

“Two weeks then.” Dr. Torres left.

For a vanilla woman, Emma showed promise for becoming his
submissive. He’d sworn not to train another newbie. The last one cried and
freaked out on him and he’d barely started a scene with her. Jill was the other
extreme. No amount of pain and darkness pleased her. Her possessiveness drained
him and brought him to a dark side he didn’t like. The relationship wasn’t
pleasing, wasn’t love and he had to break away. Jill didn’t want to.

There was no way he was going to make the same mistakes with
Emma as he did with the others. He’d make sure he could trust her and she could
trust him. They had to connect first. That was the reason for all the tests.

His gut churned and heart twisted as he remembered how she
responded to his touch. Goddamn it, he could fall for her too easily.

* * * * *

Adrian opened the front door of the restaurant for Emma. The
tropical atmosphere was a bit touristy with the aqua-and-peach tablecloths,
nautical photos and natural wood interior. Soft Calypso music played in the
background. He walked with powerful confidence, practically absorbing the
energy in the restaurant. Other women stopped their conversations, looked up
and watched as the tall, muscular guy strolled by. She was acutely aware of his
masculinity, his presence. No wonder she was so drawn to him.

They followed the hostess to a booth by a window at the far
end of the room. After they were seated, she handed them menus and filled their
water glasses. “Your server will be here in a moment,” she said then left.

The air conditioning slammed into Emma as if she were
walking into a meat freezer. Nervous excitement rippled through her. Cold air
flowed beneath her dress and caressed her bare pussy. She’d followed Adrian’s
specific instructions. She’d worn a dress without bra, panties or stockings and
had a jacket hooked over her arm. As horny as she was after their sensual
encounter at TropiX, she’d complied with his request and hadn’t masturbated.
Her sex contracted in expectation. She felt as though she was on a sexual
adventure and had no idea what to expect.

Moments ago Emma had shivered in the tropical decor and now
she wondered if the air conditioning had shut off. A wave of heat descended
over her, making her sundress cling to her skin. Adrian was dressed casual,
smart in a dark-collared shirt and khakis. He sent a surge of sexual excitement
through her body, igniting her most intimate nerve endings. Did all surgeons
have that aura of power and sexuality? The man was drool worthy.

Moisture from her water glass moistened her fingertips and
she had the urge to press the glass to her forehead and neck to cool her skin,
but he was watching her now, had locked his gaze with hers. All that power in
just one look. What about his touch, or his command? She suspected it wouldn’t
take much to melt at this man’s feet.

Their waitress arrived to take their drink orders and gave
Adrian one long, sultry look. “I’ll be back with your drinks and to take your
order. I’m Deena, let me know if you need anything.” Her eyes raked over him
then she turned and strutted off. Adrian didn’t seem to take notice, or he
ignored it.

“This is very nice.” Emma glanced out the giant window toward
the dock where a few yachts were moored. Watercrafts of various sizes cruised
up and down the Intracoastal Waterway as if there were on a giant, busy highway.

“It’s quite entertaining to watch inexperienced boat
captains attempt to dock these yachts,” he said.

“It takes time to learn but I would think if you own a boat
that costs ten times what my condo cost, you’d learn how to drive it first.
That guy trying to direct him in is getting very frustrated.”

“Poor communication and lack of skill is the captain’s main
problem,” Adrian said. “He’s going to slam into the dock.” The dock handler
frantically yelled and waved his arms. Then, bang! The boat hit a concrete
post. The handler shook his head and ran over, checking for damage then grabbed
the lines and secured them to cleats. The captain and his lady climbed off,
checked the hull and that the lines were tied properly, adding insult to the
worker who knew his job, and didn’t tip the handler. Even after the couple
turned to enter the restaurant, the handler kept his professional cool, coiling
the excess rope in a neat circle around the cleat. “He’s good. The guy has
control.”

Emma shook her head. “Having too much money and the-world-revolves-around-me
attitude was his problem.”

Adrian shrugged and turned his attention to Emma. “Cynthia
said you all met on the train. How did you get to know each other? Cynthia
lives in Chicago and she’s not here that often.” Adrian’s words were friendly
and his smile made her blood rush through her veins. But he sounded suspicious,
or maybe it was her guilty conscience.

“Cynthia always flies in and out of Miami when she’s on her
international flights,” Emma explained. “I see them in uniform all the time on
the train. Cynthia often carries loaves of fresh French bread whenever she
returns from France. They smelled so good. Once I bribed her with Marlin
tickets in exchange for a loaf.”

Adrian laughed, a grand, sexy laugh. “Marlin tickets for a
loaf of bread?”

“One of my clients gave me free tickets. I’m not much of a
fan.” The tickets had been a bribe so she wouldn’t print a juicy story about
the CEO and his mistress for her magazine. She’d told the guy she wouldn’t
print the story when he asked her not to. She didn’t need the tickets or
anything as a bribe. The man had a family and it wasn’t her business. She had
no desire to ruin anyone’s personal life. That wasn’t the type of reporting she
dreamed of doing. If her boss found out she lied about the lead going nowhere,
she’d lose her job.

Adrian frowned. “Clients? I thought you said you worked at
an animal shelter.”

Emma’s stomach knotted. She knew telling lies wouldn’t work.
Panicking, she forced a smile. “Yes, I do. I also do some copy editing and
occasionally submit articles to various publications.” She didn’t dare mention
Scandal
.

His eyes brightened. “Really? Are you published?”

“Yes, a few things. Nothing you’d read though.”
That
wasn’t a lie. She didn’t think Adrian Cayne would be caught dead reading a
celebrity gossip magazine
.
“Someday I’d love to write for a well-known
publication like
USA Today
or the
New York Times
.”

His gaze burned through her. “I’d love to read your work.
Let me know what papers. I’ll check them out.”

Sweat beaded between her breasts. The cold water glass
against her chest would do the trick right now. Her body was on fire. This
wasn’t going as planned.

“Where did you go to medical school?” Emma asked,
purposefully turning the conversation on him. She didn’t want to talk about
herself anymore. She wasn’t very good at lying. He raised one eyebrow, apparently
not missing her sidestep in the topic.

“I started medical school in the service, finished at the
University of Miami. I’m a neurosurgeon.” He said it so matter-of-factly, as if
he had said teacher or bartender.

“What specialty?”

“Neck and spinal.” He took a slow sip of his water but never
broke eye contact. There was strength and confidence in his voice. “And what do
you like to write about?”

His gaze burned through her and Emma found herself holding
her breath. “I…” She took a sip of her water. Somehow she had to avoid the
topic of her writing. She put the glass down and stared at the table. There was
no way she could look into this man’s eyes and lie. He’d know. The waitress
arrived with their drinks and to take their order.

After the waitress left, Emma decided to steer their
conversation to a safer direction. “Did you meet Carter and Cynthia at TropiX?”
she asked. Adrian was making her restless and hot all over. The idea of having
him as her Dom at the club was overwhelming. She imagined him in tight leather
or naked doing naughty, sexy things to her. Heat radiated through her body and
moisture soaked her pussy. Was it the idea of restraints that turned her on? Or
Adrian in leather? Her clit swelled and throbbed.

Adrian frowned. “No. Carter’s cousin had a boating accident
and injured his back. I was the attending physician. I saw a lot of him and we became
friends.”

“Is he okay now?” Emma asked.

“He’s great.”