Take a Chance Read online

  “Ethan Jenkins is the nephew of Senator Alan Connor, and both men are members of several BDSM clubs where women are often the victims of men interested in inflicting pain. As we reported earlier, the woman Jenkins is accused of murdering was with him the night she died. Cause of death has been attributed to an overdose of a date rape drug and violent sexual activity, including strangulation. Jenkins was arrested attempting to board a cruise ship out of the Port of Galveston using forged paperwork. He is en route to the Dallas Jail at the moment and we’ll have more information as it comes into the newsroom.”

  “Oh, God, is that true?” She lifted her head but his expression was blank. Emotionless. He’d known, but hadn’t told her. Anxiety spread through her chest and made her wonder what else he hid from her.

  “He was the man you recognized at the opening, the man from your car accident. I thought you’d put it together.”

  “No. I didn’t realize he was the one. I wish you’d said something.”

  “I’m sorry, baby. We haven’t been doing a very good job of communicating lately.” He stroked her hair and tucked a stray lock behind one ear. “You don’t want to know all the details, doll. Murder’s never pretty, and it’s best to leave some things buried with the victim.”

  “She was my friend.”

  He pressed a kiss to her brow. “I know, and I know how you feel, but nothing can change what happened to her. Keep the happy memories you have, the fun times, and let go of the way it ended.”

  “No, you don’t know how I feel. My best friend since elementary school is dead. I miss her. I can’t help but think that if I wasn’t so busy with you, I’d have known she was involved with someone dangerous. I could’ve protected her.” She pushed her body away from his and sat at the other end of the sofa. “She was important to me.”

  “Dena.”

  God, that deep, dominant voice was more than she wanted to handle right now. He’d invaded every part of her soul and her life and now he wanted to control how she felt.

  “I think you should go home.”

  “You don’t need to be alone, sweetheart. I worry about you.”

  She scrambled to her feet and stood her ground, holding fast to the tears threatening to break through. “I need some time to work through this, Steve. Please respect my wishes.”

  He stayed where he was on the sofa, one knee pressed against the backrest, and his empty boots on the floor beneath the coffee table. “Dena, come sit with me. Let me take care of you.” Quietly spoken words, but the dominance was still present.

  “Purple.” His brows dropped and a wrinkle formed above the bridge of his nose. She knew what he was thinking. She’d used her safeword.

  “We’re not at the club, Dena.” The low voice, the rumble of power. Chill bumps popped up on her skin. “Talk to me, doll.” Defiance wasn’t a game in his world, but she wasn’t playing a game.

  She’d never pushed him away. Never said no to anything he asked of her.

  “Dena, what are you doing?”

  Holding her breath, she waited for more of a response to her request. Would he leave or argue?

  Or would he force her into submission?

  The television blared, the news interrupting again, and her eyes were drawn to the man in the center of the screen. Tall, athletic, handsome, except for the words he shouted at the camera.

  “We were dating and she knew the score. She wanted it hard. Begged me for more. I didn’t know she was doing drugs. I never saw her take anything, but she always drank wine when we went out. I didn’t kill her, I swear.”

  The lump in her throat broke loose and a sob escaped. Steve came to his feet with a growl and came to her, but she backed into the wall and pushed out her hands. “Please, don’t hurt me. Please, just go. I want you to go.”

  “Dena, I’ll never hurt you, I swear. I would never touch you in anger. Never.”

  Her voice wasn’t all there, but she still managed a few words. His face went from splotchy red to paper white while he put his boots on and scooped up his keys. Her whole body shook while his eyes bored into hers.

  “Dena, baby, please. I don’t want to leave you like this.”

  “Just get out of my house,” she whispered.

  Lips a thin line, he opened the door. “Will you at least come lock up after I leave?” He stared for a long time, an age of time waiting between them, and then she gave him a nod. She knew in her heart he’d be listening for the bolt, so she took care of it, leaning her head on the door’s panel. A thump told her he’d done the same. She could almost hear him breathing, and words whispered through the door.

  “Dammit, Dena. Don’t give up on me. On us. I love you.”

  It took a long time before she heard his truck start, and even longer before she turned off the lights and crawled into her empty bed.

  “I love you, too,” she whispered into the empty space next to her. He’d never said those words before tonight, but they’d been on the tip of her tongue more than once. So many times, she’d wanted to give them to him, and not during sex.

  But sex was too much a part of their time together. She’d jumped into bed with him for the adventure and found something exceedingly more intense than his BDSM lifestyle.

  It scared the hell out of her.

  Friday rolled around. Again. And the thought of spending another weekend sequestered in her house made her squeamish. Steve’s texts had slowed to once or twice a day, and he’d sent flowers twice, timing them so that the florist could pick up the wilted ones when he left fresh roses. She was on the verge of calling him when her cell rang.

  Susan, not Steve, and a good thing, since she didn’t have any idea what she’d say to him. She’d been a sobbing bitch and he hadn’t deserved her hysterics.

  “Hi, Susan. How are you doing?”

  “I’m okay. I was hoping we could get together, maybe have dinner? If you already have plans, don’t change them for me.”

  She sighed. “I would love to have dinner tonight. Where?”

  Susan suggested one of their favorite restaurants and Dena grabbed her purse. If she sat at her desk one more minute, she’d be on the phone with Steve. She owed him an apology and when she had the right words fixed in her head, she’d call him. Until then, she’d wait and avoid as much as she could. The word coward would be permanently embedded in her forehead soon enough.

  Susan was at a table when Dena entered the restaurant, two glasses of wine and a pile of breadsticks waiting in the middle of the table. Her friend stood and they hugged, clinging to each other for a minute before sagging into their seats.

  “I ordered for you. Hope you don’t mind,” Susan said with a nod to the wine.

  They both lifted a glass and sipped and Susan said, “You look tired. What’s going on?”

  “Too much to talk about.”

  The waiter arrived, rattling on about the specials, and Dena tried to avoid her friend’s stare. As soon as he walked away, Susan jumped in. “Talk to me, Dena. What happened?"

  “I went ballistic with Steve. I haven't seen him in a while.”

  “Oh, honey, no. What did you say? Or what did you do?”

  Her face got hot, embarrassment taking a front seat to her confession. “I compared him to the man that killed Sara.”

  Susan leaned back in her chair, the wine glass wobbling on the table. “No. I don’t know your Steve that well, but I can’t imagine him hurting you like that. Not after the way he helped me with Sara.”

  “They’re members of the same club.”

  Susan kept shaking her head. “That doesn’t matter. They’re two different people.”

  Their salads arrived and she unrolled her napkin, hoping Susan would let the topic drop while they ate.

  Picking at her salad, she asked, “How are your parents?”

  “Fine, I guess. As well as can be expected,” Susan said, her expression neutral, but it was clear from the set of her brow that she had something to say.

  Dena took a bite an
d waited.

  “I’ve been doing research about men who hurt women.”

  The long pause had Dena curious. Susan wasn’t one to mince words in any situation.

  “I also looked into the BDSM culture. Everything I read focused on consent issues and safe play. The few mentions about violence were warnings to stay away from anyone unwilling to use safe words and contracts.”

  Dena put her fork down and leaned in to the table. “Would you date someone who wanted to tie you to the bed?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe.” She took another bite of salad, her eyes still matching Dena’s, and swallowed with a smile. “If he was a sweetheart like Steve, I’d say yes.” Susan laughed.

  “What’s so funny?”

  “You are. Your face looked like you might scratch my eyes out if I tried to get close to your boyfriend.”

  “It did not.”

  Susan pushed her salad around with her fork, her gaze on the food when she said, “Dena, did he talk about safety?”

  “Yes.”

  “Did you have a safe word?”

  “Yes.”

  When Susan finally met her gaze, she prepared herself for a hard question, but she was surprised by what her friend asked. “Did he ever treat you badly?”

  “No.” Oh, shit. She’d never considered the good times they’d shared or the tenderness he’d shown her, only thought about what might happen, what the worst case scenario might be. “He didn’t get mad when I asked him to leave. How did I miss the way he let me push him away?”

  Their soups arrived and Dena felt like a complete idiot. “I owe him an apology, don’t I?”

  “If you want to keep him around, yes.”

  A chill crept into her chest at the thought of never seeing him again, but she still had questions about their relationship. “I don’t know, Susan. Lately, I’ve been wondering if I’m attracted to him or to his lifestyle.”

  Oh, lord, why had she said that? Susan’s eyebrows were almost in her hairline, her eyes wide and wildly curious.

  “Don’t even think about not telling me everything, Dena. Everything.”

  More wine went down her throat while she looked for a way to explain what Steve did to her without making it sound like an x-rated movie. Damn her mouth for taking the lead in this conversation without consulting her brain. Too late now.

  “He’s dominant.”

  “I get that. Tell me more.”

  “He knows what he’s doing.” An eye roll worthy of a recalcitrant teenager spoke volumes. With a sigh, she whispered, “He made me come until I thought I’d pass out.”

  Susan grinned. “Does he have any single friends?”

  “Susan.” Another sip of wine helped. “Okay, here’s the thing. I’m not sure if I want to see him because he ties me to the bed and makes me…you know…” She waved the wine glass around in front of her. “Or because I care about him as a person.”

  “Have you been with him when you weren’t having sex? Wait, I can answer for you. You were with him when he helped me find out about Sara. He was wonderful to both of us that day.”

  “True.”

  “Did he tie you up and do you when you got home?”

  Dena rolled her lips over her teeth and gave serious thought to ordering more wine. “No.”

  “Did he stay with you that night?”

  She shook her head, afraid to open her mouth, but she knew exactly where her friend’s line of questions was leading and she didn’t want to answer anymore.

  “Have you ever had plain old sex with him?”

  Chapter 20

  The question stopped her on a dime. “We…I mean…”

  “Maybe you should find out? I’d hate to see you dump a guy as sweet as Steve because you wouldn’t take a chance on loving him. Life is too short to let fear make you wait for the perfect man. No one is perfect.”

  Dena jerked in her seat when a man stopped next to their table, her heart pounding with the realization Susan had given her.

  “Can I get you ladies anything?” the waiter asked. “Another glass of wine?”

  She shook her head. “No, thank you. I think I’ve had enough.” He walked away with a smile and a nod, and when she looked back at her friend, she saw the same gesture.

  “Thank you,” she said, reaching out to grab Susan’s hand. “I needed to hear that.”

  “So what are you going to do about it?”

  She broke a breadstick and took a bite, postponing her capitulation, but Susan was right. She needed to know more about Steve before she walked away completely. “I have no idea.”

  “Would you like a suggestion?”

  An hour later, she parked in front of Steve’s house and prayed he was home and alone. After pushing him away for the last two weeks, he might’ve decided to move on with his love life. If so, it would hurt like hell, but she couldn’t really blame him.

  She hit the doorbell and waited.

  Nothing, and there were no uncovered windows, so she couldn’t tell if anyone was home. She was digging in her purse for her cell when the door opened.

  Holy shit. Steve, in all his glory, stood in the open doorway with a towel around his waist and another working over his chest. A knife-like thought crossed her mind, wondering if he was post coitus.

  “Dena. I wasn’t expecting you. Come in.” He backed up and she stepped across the threshold, relaxing a little. Surely, he wouldn’t invite her in if he had another woman in his bed.

  “I should’ve called. I’m sorry. I just…”

  His arms wrapped around her and brought her in contact with his damp chest, a few stray droplets clinging to the curly hair. His mouth slanted over hers in a kiss designed to make her wobble, which she did without thinking about it. This was what he did to her every time he touched her. It was the next part that confused her.

  For the moment, she enjoyed the feel of being in his arms and having his tongue invade her mouth.

  “I’ve missed you, Dena. I’m glad you came tonight. I was getting ready to drive over to your place and sit in your driveway until you let me inside.”

  “I’m trying to figure out what’s going on between us.”

  “Okay, how can I help?”

  She looked into his face, noting the concern in his expression, and said, “Will you make love to me tonight without any ropes or toys or scarves?”

  His eyes darkened and those broad shoulders she loved tensed. “Of course, baby. I’ll do whatever makes you happy.”

  She stepped back from his body and grabbed hold of the towel where it overlapped and crossed his tight abs, and then turned toward the hall.

  “Now?”

  She tugged and he followed, the husky rumble of his chuckle settled in her chest and breathed life into her body once more. She’d missed this, the closeness and the desire that flowed between their bodies.

  She let go of him when they crossed into his bedroom and pulled her top over her head. He came up to her and released the catch on her bra, the tent under his towel growing and pressing into her butt. His hands cupped her hipbones, his mouth wet and hot on the bare skin under her earlobe.

  The caress sent shivers down her spine and reminded her body of what it had missed for the last ten days. The resonant happy dance under her skin woke her libido and started a waterfall effect. Desire pulsed fast and hard.

  He turned her in his arms and took her face in his hands. Another scorching kiss shook her knees and she slipped her hands between the towel and his ass. The added pressure loosened the knot and it fell to the floor.

  “No hurry, doll. We have all night.”

  She pressed a kiss to his chest and stepped away to shuck her slacks and panties. His hum of appreciation caused hot chill bumps to form all over her, or maybe that was from the texture of his hands on her skin.

  She wanted him. Now.

  His heat surrounded her as she backed him toward the bed and tipped him onto the neatly made king-sized bed. She crawled up beside him and they scooted to
the middle.

  When she straddled him, Steve grabbed her hips. “Dena, baby, stop and talk to me. Don’t get me wrong. I want you, but I need to know what’s going on here.”

  “I’m trying to figure it out.”

  “So you’re here to molest me without toys or ropes? I get it, but talk to me. What’s in your head right now?”

  “Can I explain when we’re finished?”

  He went still under her, the tense bands of his abdomen against her thighs and rear turning to steel.

  “Are we talking about after sex is finished or after we are finished? Big difference there, Dena.”

  She held her breath and he let his out.

  “If it’s the latter, sex isn’t going to happen tonight. Talk to me, Dena. I need to hear what you’re feeling, baby.”

  Eyebrows drawn tight over the long bone of his nose, he wasn’t budging until she told him what she wanted to discover with this little exercise. Damn. She might as well spill and take a chance on him skewing the outcome.

  Take a chance.

  Fine. She’d follow Susan’s advice, again.

  Sliding off his body, she sat crisscross on the bed next to him. Steve pulled a couple of pillows under his head and tugged until she lay beside him, face to face and in his arms.

  “I’m trying to figure out what this is between us.”

  Those blue eyes of his turned cloudy and half closed. “I know I’m in love with you, but I gather you’re not sure about your feelings.”

  She closed her eyes for a minute, gathering her thoughts before answering. “I don’t know. I mean, I know what I feel, but I don’t know if I’m drawn to you because of the toys and the dominance or because of you.”

  “Dena, you know the dominance is part of who I am. I can’t change that.” He lifted a lock of hair from where it lay across her face and tucked it behind her ear. “I don’t want to lose you, but I can’t change who I am and I wouldn’t try to change who you are.”

  “I know, but sometimes I don’t know who I am.”

  He nodded and kissed her with a gentle mouth, tenderness in his touch. “What do you need me to do to help you figure it out?”