Bound to Please(42)

“Let me up, Ruby,” he said. “You managed to avoid me all day, but you can’t run away now.”

“I wasn’t avoiding you.” But she had been. She’d snuck away from the office, waiting until she was sure he was busy playing music before she rushed past the studio and ran down the steps.

Now, she looked down at her sweatpants, old Ramones T-shirt, and bare feet. She’d just settled onto the sofa with some popcorn and chardonnay, convinced that those things, along with an old James Bond flick, would help her forget about Mark. But now he was here, at her apartment building. And she, of course, looked like shit.

“I don’t care what you look like.”

“How did you know what I was thinking?” she asked the box.

“Because you’re a girl. But come on, I’ve seen you naked; I really don’t care if you’re not wearing lipstick.”

She rolled her eyes. “I’m busy.”

“Ruby.” His voice held a warning. “Open up.”

Open up. How many times had he asked her to open up: her lips, her legs. Her door.

What would be next?

She had yet to deny him. “Fine. But only for a second. I have to get up early in the morning.” She pushed the button to let him in.

Turning to the mirror above the table by the front door, she quickly pulled her hair out of its messy ponytail and was still smoothing it with her hands when he knocked.

“That was quick,” she said as she opened the door. “You must have sprinted up the two flights of steps.”

But he wasn’t the slightest bit winded. Instead he looked as relaxed as ever in his jeans, T-shirt, and black boots. She smelled the leather of his jacket and suppressed a shudder.

He stepped inside, looked her over. His eyes paused at her throat, on the necklace he’d given her, but he didn’t mention it. She’d taken it off when she’d changed after work, but she’d felt as if something was missing, and she’d put it right back on.

“You’re cute like this,” he said.

She shifted awkwardly. At her age, she was beginning to feel uncomfortable being seen without makeup, and she wondered if she looked old to him.

He touched her cheek. “I mean it. You’re really adorable when you’re all unkempt.”

“You’re just saying that because you think I’ll let you stay here tonight.” But she immediately realized what a ridiculous statement that was. Mark St. Crow didn’t need to lower himself to flattery to sleep with women. Mark St. Crow just needed to be, and women dropped like flies around him.

“Don’t worry,” he said, stepping closer. “I won’t stay long.”

“Oh. I mean, good. Because I have an early morning.”

His brown eyes sparkled behind the glasses. His irises were black, reflecting the soft light of her apartment. “So you said,” he replied. “I just wanted to give you something.”

It was then she noticed he was holding a small white box with a red ribbon around it. He handed it to her.

“Another present?”

“Open it.”

She pulled on the ribbon and set it on the table. The lid was next, and inside was white tissue paper. She separated the delicate folds until red lace and satin were revealed. “Underwear?” she said, purposefully using a casual word for what had obviously been a very expensive set of lingerie. She wondered if he gave all his lovers such gifts.

“I want you to wear these tomorrow.”

She took the panties in two fingers and held them up. “I don’t wear G-strings.” Not because she was a prude, but because she hated the way they made her feel, like she was walking around with a wedgie.

“You do now.”

“Mark, come on.” She dropped the red silk back into the box and set it on the table. “I had a great time with you, both times, but I don’t think we should see each other anymore.”

She saw the muscles in his neck tense. “Why?” he asked.

“Because.” She blew out a breath. “Because I have to concentrate on work, and you’re too distracting.” Because I want to fall to my knees right here in the hallway, and that can’t be good.

He leaned down until his lips were a breath from hers. “How ironic.”

“What?” she whispered.

“You inspire my work, and I distract you from yours.”

Her palms were damp as she clutched the table for support. “I inspire you?”

He leaned down to kiss her neck, just under her ear, and her eyes fluttered shut. “Yeah, baby. You inspire me, you turn me on. I don’t know what it is about you…” His words trailed off as he continued to place hot kisses on her skin.