Leather & Lace: Trident Security Book 1 (8 page)

She took a sip of her wine. "What would you like to know?"

Shrugging his shoulder, he picked up a small pepper mill and added some black pepper to his salad. He held the mill up toward her and she shook her head. "I don't know; tell me about your family, where you grew up, what you did before becoming a romance writer. Things you've told other guys on a first date."

"Well, since I've only had a few first dates in my life and my last first date was over four years ago, I'm not sure I remember what I talked about on them."

Devon stopped his salad fork halfway to his mouth and stared at her in surprise. "Okay, explain please, because I find it hard to believe you aren't beating men off with a stick."

Kristen blushed, which she did a lot around him, and stared at her own salad like it was the most interesting thing in the world. He put his fork down, reached across the table and placed two fingers under her chin. He then lifted it until she was looking at him again. His eyes were a deeper blue tonight in the low restaurant lighting. "Talk to me, Kristen. Believe it or not, I've never said this to a woman before, but you fascinate me and I want to know everything about you."

She doubted it was true, but it did prompt her to start talking. "I was a bookworm through high school and college, kind of nerdy. I was shy around guys, I guess, and didn't date a lot. I had one serious boyfriend my sophomore year of college but he got tired..." She paused, not wanting to finish the sentence.

"Tired of what, Pet?

She didn't know what it was about that one word, but it made her heart pound faster and she liked the nickname. It felt intimate though she doubted she was the only woman he used it on. "He got tired of me telling him no." She lowered her voice so he was the only person who could hear her. She couldn't believe she was telling him this ten minutes into their first date but she couldn't stop the words. "You see, I was a virgin on my wedding night two years ago. I met Tom my senior year and although we fooled around, something in me wanted to wait. I know it sounds silly in this day and age, but it was important to me."

"It's not silly at all, Kristen. I think it shows what a strong woman you are. One who knows what she wants and what she doesn't. And you're willing to fight for what feels right to you. There's nothing wrong with waiting for the right guy and I respect you for doing it." He paused when a look of disbelief appeared on her pretty face. "What?"

The corners of her mouth twitched as she held back a smirk. "I find it hard to believe you respect my long-term virginity when you own a sex club."

He let out a small snort. "Okay, I can see your point but what I said was true. Guys have no trouble losing their virginity and having sex with any woman who is willing, but women are wired differently. Sex is more emotional for them, well, most of them. I hope my niece waits for the right guy and don't even think of making me believe she is anything but a virgin."

"Yeah, well, in my case, the right guy didn't come along. My ex-husband had been cheating on me the whole time we were dating and while we were married. But I didn't find out until it was too late. The skanks he preferred wouldn't look like a good wife for a respected stockbroker, like the goody-two-shoes I was."

"What an asshole, excuse my language."

Kristen couldn't help snickering at him. "Let’s see, you've told me you want to fuck me on a table and spank my ass, so I think calling my ex an asshole is rather tame."

He laughed along with her. "Alright, enough about your ex-fudge pecker. Tell me about
you
."

"Little ol' me."

Devon pointed his fork at her before digging into his salad again. "Yes, Pet. Little ol' you. Start talking or I'll start adding to the count of thirteen."

"You wouldn't," she gaped.

"Fourteen."

"Alright, alright. Has anyone ever said you would make a good interrogator?"

"Fifteen."

"I was born in a log cabin..."

He rolled his eyes. She was pushing her luck. "Sixteen."

"No, it's true. I was born in a log cabin. My parents went to my dad's family's cabin in the Poconos a month before my mom's due date. They figured it would be the last chance they had to get away, you know, just the two of them. The next morning mom woke up in full-blown labor. She didn't realize she'd been in labor for over twenty-four hours because the contractions weren't strong until all of a sudden she felt the need to push. Before my dad had a chance to get her to the car, she started crowning and whoops, there I was. Dad was a cop but he had never delivered a baby before. He did fine until the ambulance got there. After he let the EMT's in though, he passed out, hit his head on a table and needed ten stitches. He always said it's why I was an only child.

They were both laughing as the waiter took their salad plates and replaced them with their dinners. Devon asked the young man for another round of drinks before turning his attention back to her. "I think I would have done and said the exact same thing. I've seen a lot in my life. Things which would scare the hell out of most people but delivering a kid would send me into a panic–and I never panic." He paused as a busboy stopped and refilled their water glasses. "So, okay, you're an only child. Are your folks still around?"

She nodded and picked up her knife and fork. "Yes. They divorced when I was ten. Mom, Elizabeth, was an elementary school teacher and never learned how to live with a cop who was always being called into work on days off and holidays. His rotating shifts didn't help matters. Although he's always been a good father, mom said dad wasn't even close to being a part-time husband. Looking back, I'm surprised their marriage lasted as long as it did. As divorces go, it was friendly. No fighting over who gets what, or those sorts of things. Dad, his name is Bill, got remarried when I was fifteen to a nice lady named Susan who works in the courts. He retired from the Philadelphia police department two years later. He's now teaching criminal justice at the community college. Mom and my step-dad, Ed–he's an insurance adjuster–eloped to Vegas three months after my wedding and moved to the Jersey shore a few months later. I have two older step-brothers but we barely know each other, they live near their mom about an hour from where we lived."

"So did you always live in Philadelphia? When did you move here?"

"Actually we lived a few miles outside Philly in New Hope and then Ridgewood, New Jersey after I got married. I only moved here a few weeks ago after my divorce was final."

"Why here?"

Kristen chewed and swallowed a piece of veal before answering him. "My cousin, Will, has lived in Tampa for the past six or seven years and I loved the area the few times I came down to visit him. I wanted a new start, so here I am. What about you? Have you always lived in Tampa?"

"No. My brothers and I were born and raised in Charlotte, North Carolina. After the Navy, Ian and I decided to open our security business here. Mitch was raised here and like you, we visited a lot and liked it. We were still getting our security firm on its feet when Mitch approached us about the club and the rest, as they say, is history."

"It must've been difficult and expensive. I mean the club is beautiful and I can't imagine what it took to transform the place while starting another business. And, oh my God, it sounds like I'm trying to find out how much money you have. Don't answer, I don't want to know. I'm just going to remove my foot from my mouth." She was babbling but couldn't stop. It was a bad habit which occurred when she was embarrassed.

Devon didn't look upset, instead he seemed amused. He held out a piece of steak and peppers on his fork. "Here, replace your foot with this."

When she reached for the fork, he pulled his hand back. "Uh-uh, Pet. Open your mouth and close your eyes. I want to feed you."

Kristen's eyes widened before she leaned forward and did as he requested. He eased the fork into her mouth taking care not to stab her with the tines. When she closed her lips around the fork and moaned as the flavors hit her tongue, he would have sold his soul at that moment to replace the fork with his throbbing cock. He eased the fork out of her mouth, allowing her to chew and swallow the food. "Mmmm, it's delicious."

Clearing his throat, he shifted in his seat and tried to be discreet about adjusting himself. "Glad you like it. I'd offer you more but I think if I did, I'd cum in my pants."

Her eyes flew open again and she saw the desire in his eyes. He wasn't teasing and she clenched her thighs together trying to ease the persistent ache which had taken up residence between them. "Um...so...um...what about you? You said you have a brother, Ian. Any others? Are your folks still in Charlotte?" She could have sworn a sad look passed his face but it was gone too fast to be sure.

Devon paused for a moment. He always found it difficult to talk about his brothers. It was also one of the reasons he never dated outside the club. With a submissive, they didn't need to know him beyond the surface, beyond what he was willing to give. He rarely mentioned John to people who inquired about his family, since it always made the conversation depressive and awkward. "We have a younger brother, Nick. He's in the Navy stationed in San Diego. Ian's the oldest. Mom and Dad are still based out of Charlotte but they travel a lot. My dad, Chuck, is in real estate and has done well for himself. He has a corporation now with a board which runs it for him when he's out of the country with mom. Mom, Marie, is a plastic surgeon, although now she only practices in Charlotte enough to maintain her hospital privileges. She has a small stake in a practice with four other doctors, but her main focus is working in third world countries for Operation Smile."

"Isn't Operation Smile the organization which offers surgeries for kids with cleft lips or palates?"

He nodded and took a sip of tonic water. "Or other facial deformities, yes. When we were young, my brothers and I traveled all over the world with my folks and by the time I went into the Navy, I was on my third passport. We spent every summer digging wells, building schools and huts and everything else we could do to help."

Every time she thought she couldn't find him more attractive, he went and proved her wrong. "Wow, that's amazing! I've never been out of the United States except for Jamaica on my honeymoon and the most I ever did when I was younger was volunteer at the animal shelter five minutes from my house."

He could imagine a younger Kristen playing with and caring for a bunch of animals looking for forever homes. She probably cried after each one got adopted. "Yeah, well, it was fun when we were younger but by the time we were in junior high, we wanted to stay home and hang out with our friends and girlfriends–typical teenage selfishness. When we hit high school and started working, my grandparents on my mom's side would spend the summer at our house so my folks could go do their thing. Nowadays though, Ian and I try to take a week or so a few times a year to meet up with my parents in whatever country they're at and spend the time doing what we can to make some poor village a little less desperate for the people who live there."

Kristen could tell how much he loved his family by listening to the affection in his voice. Although her parents and step-parents got along well and she loved them all, there were times she wished her folks were still together and had given her a brother or a sister.

"Kristen."

She looked up, realizing her mind had wandered and the waiter was clearing their plates while Devon stared at her.

"I'm sorry, what?"

"Did you want coffee or dessert?"

"Oh, no thanks. I'm full." And I want to leave for The Covenant and jump your bones–but she wouldn't say that out loud. Too bad they weren't allowed to play at the club.

"We'll take the check, thanks," Devon told the waiter, who nodded before taking their plates to the kitchen.

As he reached into his pocket for his wallet, Kristen jumped and grabbed her evening bag. "Let me split this with you."

She froze when he let out a low growl. "If you take anything other than a lipstick out of your purse, I will pull you across my lap right here and spank you until the cops show up."

She sat there, stunned at his fierce expression. "I just thought since this was our first date and I was the one to ask you out..."

He held up his hand. Under no circumstances would he let her put a penny toward their dinner. "Do not finish the sentence. You may have asked me out, but it was only because I thought you were seeing Brody. Otherwise, I would have done it. I've never allowed a woman to pay for dinner and I'm not going to start now." He wasn't going to mention he couldn't remember the last time he'd taken a woman to dinner who hadn't been his mother or niece.

"Isn't that a little sexist?" She sat back and placed her hands in her lap.

Kristen may have written a book based on the BDSM lifestyle, but there was still a lot she didn't understand. He leaned forward, his arms resting on the table. "Let me explain something about Doms to you, Pet. We like to...no...we demand to be in charge when it comes to certain things. Aside from the sexual aspect, we want to ensure our sub's safety and comfort. To treat them as if they are the most precious thing on this earth. I know a few Doms who will tell you their favorite part of a scene is the aftercare, because it's when their subs need them the most. It's when they connect the most.

"We care for our subs, giving them everything we can and wishing we could give them the moon if they asked for it–whether it's for one night only or a long term relationship. We don't do it because we're sexist or think they can't take care of themselves. We do it because it pleases us in a way you can't imagine. It's something we crave beyond the basic human instinct and need to have sex. The lifestyle is so much more than kinky sex and giving up or taking control. And all we Doms expect from our subs in return is respect and obedience...well, that and their orgasms. Now if you want to argue with me about money, I will be more than happy to continue the count. I believe we're at sixteen."