The Saint(96)
“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” she said.
“Taking your clothes off for me in the back of my Rolls-Royce?”
“That.” She unbuttoned her shirt.
“Get used to it.”
She turned her back to him and lowered her shirt. Kingsley moved to sit behind her on her seat. His surprisingly gentle fingers traced the outline of the bruises that dotted her skin. His touch on her body made her feel treacherous sorts of things in her stomach and a little lower.
“Where else?” he asked.
She pulled her shirt back up and turned around. Feeling obnoxious, she threw her leg over his thighs and raised her skirt.
“Glad I shaved my legs this morning,” she said as she displayed the bruises on her upper thighs.
“So am I.”
“So you shaved your legs, too?” She pushed her skirt back down and put her feet on the floor once more.
He narrowed his eyes at her as she buttoned her shirt back up.
“You’re intelligent.”
“You say that like it’s a bad thing.” She put her boots back on and left her tights off. She’d worry about her trench foot later.
“Intelligence is dangerous in a woman. Next thing we know you’ll say that marriage is a trap that tricks women into becoming unpaid cooks and housekeepers.”
“Even if I were stupid I’d be smart enough to know that.”
She turned to face him, pulling her legs into the seat cross-legged. She had a feeling he could see her underwear from this angle but for some reason she really didn’t care. If Søren trusted Kingsley, she would, too.
“You’re an interesting young woman. I thought he was out of his mind when he first told me about you.”
“What did he tell you about me?”
“Nothing I’ll tell you. What is important is that you’re here now, and there are things you should know.”
“I want to know everything.”
“As soon as you turn eighteen, I’ll take you to a club.”
“Why eighteen?”
“Because you have to be eighteen to enter BDSM clubs in this state.”
“Yes, I can see you’re a law-abiding citizen. I’ve been in your house, remember?”
“You came uninvited.”
“You were having an orgy that involved people betting money on sex.”
“A friendly gentleman’s wager. I never play, though.”
“Why not?”
“No fun in it. I always win.”
“I heard some rumors you were good in bed.”
Kingsley plucked a nonexistent thread off his trousers and smiled at something out the window.
“If I were you, I would believe them.”
The casual confidence in Kingsley’s tone made something twitch inside Eleanor.
“I want to believe them.”
“I would take you to a club right now and prove it to you if I could. I am under orders at the moment. Je suis désolé.”
“Blondie won’t let me play yet?”
“Not at a club.”
She heard something in his voice—a hint.
“Søren said you weren’t allowed to take me a kink club.”
“He did. But he didn’t say I couldn’t take you to my house.”
Kingsley grinned and for a beautiful, terrifying moment Eleanor wanted to kiss Kingsley as much as she’d ever wanted to kiss Søren.
“What are we doing at your house?”
“A little demonstration of BDSM in action.”
“BDSM?”
“Bondage. Domination or discipline. Sadomasochism. Or what I like to call ‘my favorite hobbies.’”
“Can you pick me up from school every day?”
Kingsley laughed and pulled her into his lap. He gave her a quick kiss on both cheeks, going nowhere near her lips.
Then he sat her bodily onto the bench seat before moving to sit across from her.
“Enough playing,” he said with a more serious expression on his face. “I believe you have a question for me?”
Eleanor straightened her skirt, flattening it against her thighs.
“Søren told me to ask you why I should be afraid of him. Do I want the answer?”
“Only you can tell me that.”
Eleanor glanced down at her boots, her Goodwill combat boots.
“I want to know. But Søren said you wouldn’t answer.”
“I won’t answer. Not the truth anyway. But I can tell you a useful lie.”
“That’ll work, I guess.”
Kingsley shrugged, sat back in the seat and smiled at her.
“He’s a sadist, chérie. The most brutal sadist I’ve ever known. There are four women in the city who he plays with on a rotating basis. Once a week if he has time. It can take well over two weeks for them to heal entirely from a few hours with him.”