Page 50 of A Little Harmless Pleasure

She crossed her arms beneath her breasts and frowned at him. He couldn’t help but notice the rounded flesh that rose above the neckline of her sweater. “Why don’t you think I like you?”

He settled his hands on the table. “I didn’t say that. I said you weren’t comfortable. But now that you said it, I think we should discuss why you don’t like me.”

“I didn’t say I didn’t…” She huffed out an annoyed sigh, then made a face. “Okay, part of me doesn’t like you. Or at least the part of you the world gets to see.”

Again, she was too close for comfort, and he didn’t like it one damn bit. “Are you saying that I’m hiding something?”

She shrugged. The dainty gesture drew attention to the smooth skin on her shoulders. The ruby red sleeveless sweater she wore enhanced the tan she’d gotten in the last six weeks. The bit of color had added warmness to her features and accentuated the thin line of gold that rimmed those blue eyes. Humidity had taken control of her hair, causing it to curl. The multitude of highlights from the sun now wove through her heavy locks. Need slipped under his skin, and he suddenly found himself ravenous. He craved to slide his hands into her mane as she closed that wicked mouth over his cock. Evan would love to return the favor and find out just how closely the curls between her legs matched the hair on her head.

“You just don’t seem to want anyone to know what you’re really like.”

Her voice broke into his fantasy and the desire that had surged died almost instantly. She was right. There was only one person who knew about Evan’s past. Evan had told Chris almost every shameful, dirty thing.

“I have nothing to hide.”

“Fine. If you don’t want to talk about it, I won’t force the issue.” She turned from him, donning her sunglasses, then studied the activity out on the pavement. They’d chosen to sit outside to enjoy the warm day. Mid-afternoon Honolulu boasted businessmen and women rushing to their next meeting, their Bluetooth earpieces in place. Mothers were walking their babies among the ever-present tourists roaming the area. Evan sensed that she wasn’t really interested in it.

“Cynthia.”

She faced him. He wished he could read her eyes, but they were hidden behind the dark lenses. She said nothing. The tension grew between them, but she didn’t move to fill the silence. Instead, she seemed to be challenging him to some kind of stare down. And, although he was well known for his poker face, he didn’t have the time or patience to mess around.

“What?”

She hesitated before answering. “I thought we were here for Chris.”

He dipped his head. “Agreed.”

“Then why are you acting like some superficial jackass?”

The bite in her voice surprised him. He’d been pushing her buttons, and being, well, a jackass. He’d wanted to get a rise out of her, and he got it. But the absolute authority lacing her question momentarily stunned him. Evan might have been wrong thinking she couldn’t take to her role. This wasn’t the mouse of a woman he’d met in Chris’s restaurant. Her posture spoke of a woman in control, with new confidence. Chris’s request for this lunch now made more sense.

When he didn’t answer, she continued. “You want to act like that? Fine. Just let me know. But for some reason Chris wants us to know each other better. Why, I have no idea. Probably because we both mean a lot to him.”

Evan understood why, but he was sure that Cynthia didn’t. Knowing Chris, he hadn’t revealed his ultimate fantasy. It pleased Evan to see her so secure with her burgeoning Domme. Still, being a Dom himself, the behavior nicked at his temper.

“And so you think that for some reason I should open my heart to you over sweet tea and lunch?”

She stood and grabbed her purse. With a shove to her chair, she whipped around to leave. Irritation and regret warred within him. High maintenance women—with their demands for attention and soul-searching conversation—were not his cup of tea. He preferred the straightforward approach. When a woman like Cynthia flounced off, it was better to enjoy the view as they left. But she was what Chris wanted, what he thought he needed. Owing his life to the man was getting damned inconvenient.

“Cynthia!”

She paused but didn’t give him the courtesy of turning around.

“I apologize. Please stay.” He bit each painful word out.

She didn’t react to his plea. Not right away. Annoyance crawled under his skin, an uncomfortable irritation. Women didn’t think about refusing a request or demand from him. They begged for his attention, good or bad.

“I promise to behave.”

Cynthia glanced back over her shoulder at him, her eyes narrowing as she studied his face. “I doubt very much you behave often, if ever.”

He gave her a look of mock innocence. Her laughter allowed some of the muscles in his stomach to relax. She eased back into her chair, setting her purse on the one beside her.

“I didn’t mean to upset you. Truly.” He tried to appear sincere, because he was, but he couldn’t sound completely contrite.

“I know. And I’d say I didn’t mean to pry but we both know I’d be lying. But as someone who pretended to be someone she wasn’t for most of her life, I know it when I see it.”

He leaned back as their plates were set in front of them. “Why does it matter to you that I do? That is, if I do.”

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