Page 34 of Submissive Lies

NINE

Damn.

Damn, damn, damn.

As much time as I’d spent staring at him during the day, I already knew Steve was an attractive man. However, as he stepped through the lobby doors that observation was ratcheted up by several degrees. He was wearing tailored charcoal slacks that hugged his hips, a black linen jacket stretched across his shoulders, accentuating them as his shirt had done, but with greater refinement. In fact, everything about Steve right now screamed casual sophistication, from the light blue button-down that pulled tight across his chest down to the patterned tie in blues and grays that complimented his shirt. Black belt, black shoes. As I was thinking about tonight, I had worried that I might have overdressed for wherever he might be taking me. He was here to work, not to wine and dine a client. Staring at him now, I could see my concern was unfounded. He had come prepared. And well prepared. He looked good.

No, he didn’t just look good. He looked fucking incredible.

He scanned the room, his gaze sweeping across the lobby until he found me. His focus locked onto me, the intensity of those twin gray pools great enough that I was rising even before I realized it. His piercing stare was a hand at the back of my neck, a whispered command that tugged me to my feet. As he walked through the lobby, his eyes refused to track on anything other than me. I was a butterfly pinned to a board by his scrutiny, but the feeling that shot through me wasn’t one of fear. It was one of possession. The single-mindedness of that look made it clear that nothing or anyone would stop him until he was next to what he wanted. Me.

Yep. I was gone. Undone.

He navigated the space between us until he was beside me. Close, but not as close as I had a sudden urge for him to be. I could see the steel gray of his eyes up close now. They were light, cool, assessing; an alluring shade that was highlighted by the color of his shirt and tie. The trace of stubble on his cheeks and chin gave his features an irresistible ruggedness that was set off against the easy grace of his clothing. Earlier his work polo shirt had showed the breadth of his shoulders, now they appeared even broader as they filled out his suit. His eyes never left mine, and I could not have broken that gaze to save my life.

“Good evening, Ms. Boyd.”

Oh no. No, no, no. Not that voice. God damn you, not fair. Not fair to use that voice.

“Hello.” It was all I could get out. I wanted it to sound strong, in control, but it didn’t. It came out just as I felt; excited, filled with anticipation, thrilled to my core at the way he stared at me.

“You look incredible.” The hint of his smile grew wider, pushing cheeks up towards his twinkling eyes.

I drew in a sharp breath, and my eyes snapped down, breaking the contact I’d maintained so far. My hands clutched my handbag in front of me, a picture-perfect replication of what I had envisioned earlier. Without being fully conscious of it, my body had taken over, falling back into mannerisms and patterns that had once been so much a part of me.

“Thank you.”

“I’ve got a cab waiting. Shall we?”

My eyes came back up to his and I nodded. He stepped aside so I could pass, and as I did, he placed his hand in the small of my back, guiding me. It was a bold, dominant move, and there was no way he could have missed the shiver that went up my spine.

“I think you’ll enjoy this restaurant,” he said once we were in the cab, the hotel receding behind us. “A friend of mine recommended it, and Marty told me he’s heard nothing but good things about it.”

“I’m sure I will.” I glanced over at him, smiling as I caught the lights from the passing city reflected in his eyes. I turned away, watching the twilight fade from reds and oranges into the purple of evening. For a while we rode in silence, and I could feel his presence next to me, a cocoon of intimacy that left me warm, at ease. When the cab turned a corner, the edge of his leg brushed against mine and the touch set my nerves alight for seconds afterwards, anticipation of further touches a feather brushing over my skin. And his eyes. I could feel the pull of his gaze drinking me in.

“I don’t mean to stare. I swear I’m not trying to make you feel uncomfortable. But I’m not gonna lie. You look amazing. I’m really glad you agreed to have dinner with me.”

I smiled at the way he’d said it with such ease, complete self-confidence that was both a balm and made me a bit edgy with eagerness. I stared at my hands clutched together in my lap. “It’s a little… disconcerting. But… thank you.”

Steve’s shoulders followed the rise and fall of his chest as he released an elongated sigh. “To be honest, ever since I started working in this business, I’ve had to go out on business dinners way more than I ever expected. Most of the time it’s with a group of people, mainly clients. I think this is probably only the second time where it’s been just one-on-one. I’ll tell you this much. I can’t think of a single time when it’s been with someone as smart and show savvy as you.”

My head came up at the compliment, but my lips pursed at the same time. His tone seemed genuine. There was a part of me, though, that wondered if he was flattering me because he felt obligated to. A cynical voice that questioned if he’d truly meant what he said. I was about to respond when his hand came up, cutting me off even as my mouth started to open.

“I mean that seriously. You are the first client I’ve ever worked with who knew dic—” He grimaced, but before I could laugh and tell him it was okay, he continued. “Who knew anything about what the hell was going on while the booth was being set. Honestly, most clients don’t even show up until the evening before the show, if not the day of. And they certainly don’t understand a single thing about what setting up an exhibit entails. You have no idea how refreshing it is.”

“Thank you,” I said, trying to temper the eagerness in my voice. “I appreciate that.” There was no way I could hide the smile his praise teased out of me. Even with my head down, a quick glance showed approval tugging up the corners of his mouth. Praise was a big trigger for me as a submissive, and between his words and the way he was looking at me my nerves were antsy, jittery in that same fluttery-in-the-stomach feeling I used to get when told I was a ‘good girl.’ I rode in the floaty bubble his words created, jonesing for more. Steve was good. There was no mistaking that, and yet everything he said seemed to be sincere.

“Can I ask a question?” He turned, leaning with one shoulder into the seat, brows knitted together.

“Of course.”

“Why do you know so much about the business? Did you work in this field before?”

“No, not really. My father, however, taught me that if you are going to take on something new, at least do your homework first. Don’t go into something being completely ignorant. It doesn’t take much effort to do a little research, even if it is just the basics, rather than go into something blind. And the payoff can be substantial. I did that with the first trade show I ever worked on. Funny thing was, I found I actually liked it. The part that you do.” I motioned towards him with my hand. “So, over time I’ve found that I can get things done efficiently and have better control over my budgets by knowing exactly what is going on when my booth is being set. Getting my hands dirty, so to speak. Does that make sense?”

“It does.”

“To be honest, it’s had other benefits too. Over the years I’ve been able to keep control of our show costs and save money that used to go into our vendors pockets. No offense intended.”

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