Page 36 of A Little Harmless Pleasure

“Same here.”

After a few more instructions, Chris led Cynthia out of the restaurant and into the cool night air. Moments later, she was following him in her rented convertible. As they neared his house, he began to worry. He had his plan—he would introduce her slowly to the D/s lifestyle—but what if he’d read her wrong?

He shook his head as he pulled into his driveway. No, this was right. He’d felt it almost from the first time he’d seen her, and whenever he heard her voice on the phone.

And tonight, he would start them both on the path to what he knew he needed and hoped she needed too.

Chapter Nine

Cynthia followed Chris up the steps to his house. He had a split-level, which was popular in Hawaii. It sat on top of a hill, the back of it facing the ocean. She concentrated on the surroundings, trying to ignore the pounding in her heart, the way her hormones were doing a tap dance, the way she had to keep from jumping his bones in public. Once he unlocked the door, he held it open and let her enter before him.

As she stepped across the threshold, her nerves ratcheted up another level. He hadn’t touched her since they leftDupree’s,but it didn’t matter. She kept remembering what it felt like to have his hands…his mouth on her skin.

“How was your trip over?” he asked, cutting into her thoughts.

She pushed the images of him naked to the back of her brain—for now—and smiled at him.

“Okay. I tend to sleep on flights and long car drives. Watched that new Jakob Wulf movieNew Romantics.”

“That’s the romcom in New Orleans, right?” She nodded. “Yeah, my family was talking about it when he was filming. He was seen all over town with the crew, taking them out. Has a good rep.”

She smiled just as he flipped on a few lights, and she had her first real view of his house. The entryway led to a long hallway, which she assumed led to the bedrooms. The kitchen was off to the right. The floor, at least down the hallway, was tile, which she was sure kept the house cool. Her grandmother’s home was the same way. Familiar with the long-held Hawaiian tradition, Cynthia automatically removed her shoes. Chris arched a brow and followed suit. She shrugged.

“My grandmother insisted on following the traditions.”

Placing his hand on the small of her back, he ushered her to the kitchen. It was an open area, with lots of counter space, that led into a living and dining area. She walked around until she came to the windows that looked out onto the lanai. Her breath caught in her throat as she gazed down on the twinkling lights of his neighborhood and out at the Pacific.

“I paid more than this house was worth at the time to get that view.” He stepped behind her, sliding his arms around her waist and pulling her against him. “The house was a mess, but with Evan’s help, I got it just the way I wanted it.” He rested his cheek on top of her head. “I need to take a shower. Why don’t you relax, make yourself at home, and I’ll be back in a minute.”

He kissed her on the temple and left her alone to roam through his house. Okay, he hadn’t said to roam, but he had told her to make herself at home. She wandered over to the bookshelves that lined two of his walls from floor to ceiling. The multitude of titles included works from Asimov to business books. On several of the shelves he had pictures of family members, all smiling, all with their arms around each other. Her family didn’t have pictures like that. Odd, she’d never thought about it before, but the only pictures she had with her parents were done in a studio. Calm, staged, perfect. Not one of Chris’s looked staged.

“I see you’ve met my gaggle of brothers and sisters.”

She started and turned around. Chris stood a few feet behind her, droplets of water in his hair, only wearing a pair of black boxers.

Until this minute, she hadn’t realized exactly how much she’d missed touching him. Her gaze roamed down his body and she sighed. She didn’t know another man as beautiful as Chris. He moved, and she watched, mesmerized by the play of muscles beneath his skin. For once in her life, reality was better than memory.

“You keep staring at me like that, and I’m not going to be gentle.”

She took her time shifting her attention back to his face. The tension in the room increased as she walked toward him. Stopping within a few inches of touching him, she closed her eyes and inhaled. The clean, woodsy scent of his soap mixed with his own unique scent. Heaven.

She opened her eyes. “Who asked you to be gentle?”

He smiled. “Now that is an interesting comment.” He slid his arms around her waist and drew her against him. “I’d like to strip you naked and fuck you until sunrise.”

She shivered. Usually—well, before Chris—remarks like that disgusted her. Now she just wanted to know if it were possible.

“There are things we need to talk about.”

She worried at the serious tone in Chris’s voice. It struck her as odd and threw her off center. From the moment she’d seen him in the kitchen, she’d known this was right. Now from his tone, she worried that maybe he’d felt obligated to bring her back to his home. Oh Lord. Just what she needed—pity.

Still, she couldn’t keep her mind from wandering to thoughts of what she wanted him to do to her. She’d watched his lips as he talked, remembering the way they tasted, how they felt as he kissed his way down her body, slipped his tongue into her pussy.

“What kind of things?” And did it involve him naked?

“Not here.” He pulled away from her and took her hand, leading her through the kitchen and to his bedroom. Once she stepped into the room, her body heated up about fifteen hundred degrees. An antique dresser sat against one wall, along with a rocking chair. On the opposite wall, his bed snagged her interest. King-sized, with a wrought-iron headboard, it was a high bed with a Hawaiian quilt covering it; green, red, and blue interwoven through the pattern. Nightstands on each side of the bed matched the dresser. Both held identical lamps and provided the only light in the room.

“Why don’t you have a seat?”

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