Page 14 of Yield to Me

“They’re beautiful,” I finally said, staring at the woman in front of us. I wondered if he thought the same thing of artists. Of me. “Powerful,” I added. My mind crossed over the red marks that lingered on the woman’s back as I watched from the library at Surrender, each strike like a ribbon cocooning her body. The slice of the single tail through the air had made me shiver at first, but I wondered, did it feel good to that woman? Did she enjoy filling that need for someone else? Was there power in knowing that she could give her partner something they could never fulfill on their own?

“We’re more alike than you realize,” Owen said. I wanted to ask him what he meant, but I was afraid of the answer. “What do you like about them?” he asked. He nodded at the woman on the stage.

“I’m in awe of the way they move.”

“Elegance and grace,” he said.

I nodded. “I wish I could move like that.”

Owen faced me completely, waiting until I did the same to him. “And why couldn’t you?” he asked. “There’s nothing they have that you don’t.”

I glanced around, searching for the metaphorical weapons I knew they carried with them. “Well, first of all, they’re gorgeous.”

“So are you.”

I blushed, grateful that he couldn’t see my red face in the dim lighting. “And they have fishnets, lingerie, silky bras, and panties. I have cute underwear, but it’s nothing like that.”

“That’s all costuming. It’s more for them than it is for us.”

That surprised me. I shrugged. “I wouldn’t know the first thing about dancing.”

“A sculptor? And you don’t know anything about dance?” He laughed. “It’s not hard.”

“I’d like to see you try,” I said.

“I’ll dance for you one day,” he said. A smile crept across his lips, and my face flushed again. Damn it, he was definitely flirting with me. “As a sculptor, I would think you would want to explore the way the body moves for yourself. Especially in your own skin.”

“Is that a challenge?”

“Perhaps.” He stood up and held out his hand, offering it to me. “You can explore dance at my place if you’d like.”

My heart raced as his words echoed through my mind. My place. Owen had invited me to his home, wherever it was. Perhaps he meant his nightclub?

“You mean Surrender?”

He shook his head. I wanted him to confirm what he was asking, if he was taking me to his private space, but the look on his face, calm and stoic, was enough. He was beckoning me to follow him, holding out his open hand, and again, the thought went through my mind that I barely knew him. He could hurt me for all I knew, and with the perversions that took place at his nightclub, wasn’t that enough evidence to say no? Besides, I had school in the morning and work that following night and a new sculpture to start in between. But there was something about Owen that made me curious, as if he was pulling back the pages to a book I hadn’t finished reading. When I thought about it, I wanted to see what he saw in me: power, grace, and elegance; what I wasn’t so sure I saw in myself. I wanted to figure out if he was right or wrong. If he could break me down like he thought he could. If I could endure it.

“I’m taking my own car,” I said. Owen nodded. “And I’m going to tell Clay where I am.”

“Do whatever you need to feel safe,” he said.

I placed my hand in his, and his grip, pulling me up, sent shivers down my spine. My heart kept racing as I followed him out of the nightclub. I wondered what I was getting myself into, but I knew it wasn’t safe.

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