Waiting For Me (Page 5)

Waiting For Me (Beautiful Surrender #2)(5)
Author: Ava Claire

In that space, I took the reins, or if my sub was really kinky, the whip. There was something cathartic about having someone trust me so wholly and completely. To give them beautiful pain and pleasure. To find that dark beauty behind closed doors. But the bedroom was miles and miles away. There was no safe words here. Melissa was hurting, and not because she was over my knee or tied to my bed. I wasn’t ready to get into the colossal mistake getting involved with Delilah James was, but I wasn’t willing to let her believe that what we had was some throw away tryst, either.

“The last time I attempted to do—” I wasn’t sure what to call it, so I just gestured between us. “It resulted in a disaster that spilled into my professional life. I don’t want to lie to you, or lead you on.” I locked eyes with her. “I’m reluctant to let you in. To let anyone in. If there’s one thing life has taught me, it’s that people disappoint you.”

Her eyes softened in a silent acknowledgement that she understood that all too well. “So you think you’ll disappoint me?”

I knew what the right answer was. Hell no, or some sort of grand proclamation of how I’d rather die than bring her pain. But wasn’t that true of everyone? Only a true ass**le goes into a relationship with ill intent. But the truth, that falling for me tended to lead to a broken heart, was a truth I wasn’t ready to utter. I didn’t want to lose her.

“I think we should take it one step at a time.”

She made a face. “Well, we’re already doing it backward. We slept together, and I know next to nothing about you.”

A smile fluttered over my lips. “I wouldn’t say we know next to nothing about each other.”

The delicious pink returned to her cheeks. “You know what I mean.”

I did, but I had every intention of making her squirm. Reminding her about the sounds she made as I touched her. Making her wet while she sat across from me, getting hotter, wondering if I was getting harder with every passing breath. Fuck, I was dying to be back inside her…

“And I have a Perrier and a vodka cranberry,” Jada chirped. She unceremoniously plunked Melissa’s drink in front of her, then gave me the 5-star treatment. She brandished the bottle like a game show presenter, then slowly cracked the tab and emptied the contents into my glass. I gave her a curt nod and returned my attention where it belonged. Melissa used the interruption to show renewed interest in the menu.

I remedied that. “Jada, we’ll take two of the Kobe burgers, mid rare, with all the trimmings. Fries for me and, for the missus?”

Melissa glared at me, closing her menu. “Fries for me as well.”

Jada skated off to put in our orders, and I studied the annoyed woman eyeballing me like she wished she had something sharper than a butter knife.

“How did you know I didn’t want the salad?”

“Because no one really wants the salad,” I answered simply. “The salad is about appearances. And like you said, we’re doing this backward. No need to impress me with how little you can eat.” I winked at her. “I’m already thoroughly impressed by you.”

I expected an eye roll, anything leading up to her flinging her drink in my face. Instead, she peered at me strangely. “Why do you do that?”

“Do what?”

“Pretend that you’re some sex crazed maniac.”

“Because I am a sex crazed maniac.” I said, voice smooth as sin. Almost hiding something else beneath the confidence. From the curious tilt of her head, I didn’t do that great of a job.

“I know your sexuality is a huge part of who you are, but it’s not all of you. It can’t be.” Before I could make a snappy comeback, she hopped up from the table, searching out a restroom. I watched her go, taking the fight in me with her. Letting Melissa in was a risk, but something inside told me that she’d already snuck past my defenses. As soon as she got back, I’d be serious. I’d get as close to vulnerable as man like me could get, and I’d let the chips fall where they may.

Melissa returned, her hair a little sleeker, lips glossier than I remembered.

I flashed her a smile and much to my surprise, and answering one crept across her lips. She lowered herself into her seat and tried to cover my small victory by taking a sip of her drink.

“Ask me anything.”

She nearly choked. “What?”

“You want to know who I am outside of the bedroom. Ask me anything, and I’ll answer your questions.”

She contemplated it. “Without snark?”

“Well, now you’re going too far,” I grinned.

She threw daggers, but her lips twitched with a repressed smile. She fondled her napkin. “Anything?”

“Anything.” I confirmed. When she dredged her eyes up, something in the blue made me regret my offer. We were about to take a trip into the past, one of my least favorite destinations. Instead, she surprised me.

“What’s your favorite color?”

I frowned. “My…favorite color?”

She raised her eyebrows expectantly. “You said anything.”

I chuckled. “Fair enough. Blue.”

She rolled her eyes with a heavy sigh. “Like my eyes, right? Always the charmer.”

“Not quite.” I raked my fingers through my hair. “Don’t get me wrong, your eyes are gorgeous. But I mean more of a navy blue. Like the night sky that surrounds a full moon.” I cleared my throat. “How about you?”

She was still digesting my response, her eyes zeroing in on me like lasers. After a long, awkward silence, she answered, “Red. Like roses. Roses were my mother’s…” She stopped, the color draining from her face.

“I’m sorry about your mother,” I said softly, putting two and two together. I felt like I should say something more; hold her hand, comfort her, but I was never good with loss and condolences.

Her shrug let me off the hook. “Everybody dies. Some just sooner than they were supposed to.” Her jaw tightened. “Who is D?”

I groaned, the question I’d expected rearing its ugly head. “Delilah is a woman I saw briefly—”

“Delilah?” Melissa interrupted. “There’s only two Delilah’s I’ve ever heard of. The one from the Bible, and the famous one that’s splashed on every magazine cover and blog these days.”

“That’s the one.” I said wearily, leaning back in my seat. Melissa’s eyes bugged out of her skull and I let out a bitter chuckle. “Let me guess—you’re a fan.”