Chapter Seven
IT WAS HER.
Scarlett Rose.
He stared at her framed in the doorway and for the second time in his life, felt the ground shift beneath his feet. His silly heart leapt at the same time his mind snapped to attention and strangled the burst of hope. This couldn’t be real. Was she playing a joke?
She may have been wearing a mask the last time he saw her, but she’d imprinted herself on his memory. The pale, smooth skin. The way her inky hair tumbled over her shoulder in riotous waves. The heavy dark brows arched over those cat eyes, framed by thick lashes. The sharp, clean scent of citrus. exposing the elegant lines of her face, finally exposed to his full view. Her patrician nose emphasized her high cheekbones and full lips, stained the same dark red as that night.
His gaze swept over her lush figure. She was dressed to his specifications and so fucking sexy, his dick stiffened and pushed against his jeans.
The skimpy tank emphasized her stiff nipples pressing against the cotton, and squeezed her breasts together in a gift offered only to him. The pencil skirt showed off her hour glass hips and curvy ass, just like he’d hoped. Her toes were painted cherry red and gave her the touch of vulnerability he relished in a submissive.
He realized in that moment he’d dressed his date imagining her being Scarlett.
He’d gotten his true fantasy.
Her gravelly voice matched the one in his dreams. “What are you doing here?”
It took a moment for him to gather his composure and realize she looked as shocked as he did. “I signed up with Fanta-C. I’m supposed to meet my date here.”
She blinked and grabbed the doorway as if she was faint. “So, did I. Which means—”
“We’re each other’s dates,” he finished.
He’d gotten his true fantasy.
He shook his head and tried to clear it. “What are you doing here?”
“I signed up with Fanta-C. I’m supposed to meet my date here.”
Leo studied her closely, but she looked just as shell shocked as he did. “Me too. Which means—”
“We’re each other’s dates,” she finished.
She stared back at him with open hunger, and he realized this was the first time she saw his face without a mask. Anger stirred in his gut, the reminder of her total rejection burning through his veins like acid. He beat back the hesitancy and walked through the door, forcing her to move aside. The click of the knob as he shut it echoed in the silence.
“Did you know it was going to be me?” he asked quietly.
“No! I-I had no idea. Though I did ask for specific details.” Her cheeks burned. Had she done the same thing? Requested the agency set her up with someone exactly like him to re-enact their night together? “What are you doing in Vegas?”
He crossed his arms in front of his chest and regarded her. “I live here. Why aren’t you in Baltimore?”
“I live here, too!”
The bigger meaning of her answer broke through him, and once again, hope spurted up. All this time she’d been right under his damn nose. Wild coincidence? Dumb luck? Or Fate?
His body didn’t give a fuck. Already, his fingers itched to touch her, rip off those clothes, and shove deep inside her hot, wet pussy. But he needed to know the truth before he decided how the evening was going to be structured. “Then I guess neither of us could have planned tonight. I reached out to Jonathan and Cruz, you know. To see if I could contact you.”
A flicker of regret crossed her face. “I know. Hartley told me.”
Her answer ripped through him, driving the breath from his lungs. He struggled to maintain his calm expression and forced himself to ask the next question. “You didn’t want me to find you again, did you?”
His razor-sharp gaze took in her pause. The seconds stretched and he waited to see if she’d try to lie to him. He almost wished she would, because he valued truth among all the virtues the most. But damned if she didn’t tilt her chin up and say the cutting words.
“No.”
He nodded, admiring her at the same time he took the hit.
“I wasn’t ready for more than one night. I knew I was moving to Vegas and I wanted a clean slate.”
“Fair enough.” He made sure he sounded casual, even though his gut churned. Funny, the first time he falls hard for a woman and she had no intention of having more than one night of sex. If it wasn’t so screwed up, he’d laugh in irony. “That leads to my final question. We both signed up for something tonight; something we wanted fulfilled. I need you tell me yours.”
This time, she averted her gaze and began to turn. Oh, no, if they were going to do this, he was following the path all the way to the end, whether either of them liked it or not.
He snapped his voice like a whiplash. “Don’t turn your back on me, Scarlett.”
She froze. Her lower lip trembled, but she managed to square her shoulders and face him again. “I’m sorry, Sir.”
The title knocked him back like a sucker punch. Damn her. He ignored his rapidly pounding heart and pushed on. “You will answer my question. What was your fantasy?”
Those inky eyes widened, filled with a churning mix of want and apology; of need and regret. “I wanted to feel like I did that night with you.” Her voice broke. “Free. Powerful. Seen.” A shudder wracked her body. “I can’t go back to the way things were. Before…you. I need it again.”
“You need the BDSM,” he said in a clipped voice. “You need the feeling you get when you surrender.”
“Yes.”
“Have you visited another club? Been with another Dom since me?”
She shook her head, then caught his warning glance. “No, Sir. I joined the club Chains but I haven’t played yet.”
“Why not?”
“Because I’ve been afraid. Jonathan and Cruz introduced me to Blasphemy, but I don’t know anyone here yet. I’ve been trying to get my nerve up.”
His chest tightened. A hard, empty ball of ice lodged in his gut. Of course, she didn’t want him. He could be anyone. It just so happened he gave her the first satisfying experience in the BDSM lifestyle, and she hadn’t met anyone else.
She didn’t miss him at all. Only his talent as a Dom.
The irony shred him to pieces. She’d haunted him for months, and now that she was finally in front of him, she only wanted him for the sex. The bond he’d believed they found had only existed on his side. His fantasy had been to find a woman just like her to fall in love with and claim forever.
Hers had been for more great sex.
He smothered the raw pain of rejection and studied her. Even now, her chin tilted up with a pride that was part of her, even as her body already seemed to soften in his nearness. Fine. He couldn’t claim her heart, but damned if he wouldn’t claim her sweet body and brand himself on her forever. She’d never be able to fuck another man without thinking of him. Never be able to submit to another without remembering what he alone could give her.
Shattering, mindless, blinding pleasure.
So be it.
“Do you remember your safe words?”
She jerked in surprise. “Yellow to slow down. Red to stop.”
“This time, you will not forget to address me as Sir or your punishment will not be fun like the last time. You will not speak unless spoken to. Remove your clothes and stand in front of the window with your hands clasped behind your back, feet wide apart. We are officially in scene.”
He began to unbutton his cuffs.