He smiled outright. “Good. I have a meeting later. Shot glasses and streamers would be interesting to explain.”
I expected him to head out. Instead, he cupped my face, tilted my head to the angle he wanted, and pressed his lips to mine in an unhurried, chaste kiss that left me with little stars in my eyes.
Then he whispered in my ear, “Looking forward to making up later.”
My toes curled.
Pulling back, he slid easily into the reserved persona he showed the rest of the world. “Enjoy your lunch, ladies.”
He walked away with the confident, innately sexual stride that turned heads.
“And you’re still standing upright,” Megumi murmured, shaking her head. “Kills me.”
I couldn’t explain how weak Gideon made me. How shaken and needy I could so easily become. “Come on,” I said breathlessly. “Let’s eat.”
She followed me into Gideon’s office. “I don’t think I can.”
While she took in the sprawling space with its panoramic views and monochromatic color scheme, I went to the bar, where lunch awaited us. I remembered how I’d felt the first time I walked into the room. Despite the multiple seating areas that might have invited guests to sit and stay awhile, the progressively contemporary, cutting-edge design kept visitors from getting too comfortable.
There were so many sides to the man I’d married. His office reflected only one. The classically European style of his penthouse reflected another.
“Have you ever experimented with BDSM?” Megumi asked, seizing my attention.
Surprise made me drop the napkin-rolled utensils I’d been holding. I spun to face her and found her staring out the window at the city. “That acronym covers a lot of ground.”
She rubbed her wrist. “Being tied up and gagged. Helpless.”
“I’ve been helpless, yes.”
Her head turned. Her eyes were twin shadows in her pale face. “Did you like it? Did it turn you on?”
“No.” I walked over to the nearest couch and sat. “But I wasn’t with the right person.”
“Were you scared?”
“Terrified.”
“Did he know that?”
The formerly appetizing smell of lunch started to turn my stomach. “Why are you asking me these questions, Megumi?”
She answered by rolling up her sleeve, exposing a wrist so bruised it was nearly black.
7
IT WAS AFTER eight when I let myself into Eva’s apartment and found her sitting with Cary on the living room’s white sectional sofa, holding a glass of red wine in both hands.
My wife gravitated toward modern traditional furnishings, but I could see touches of her mother and roommate in the décor. I didn’t resent those pieces of Monica and Cary, but I looked forward to the day when I shared a home with Eva that reflected us, undiluted.
Still, the apartment would always be a special place to me. I would never forget the way Eva had looked the first time I’d come over. Naked beneath a thigh-length silk robe, her face made up for the night ahead, a diamond anklet winking at me. Teasing me.
I had lost all rational thought. I’d put my mouth on her, my hands all over her, and my fingers and tongue inside her. I hadn’t even thought about getting her to the “fuck pad.” I wouldn’t have been able to wait, even if I had. She wasn’t like any woman who’d come before her. Not just because of who she was, but also because of who I was when I was with her.
It was unlikely I would ever allow the property management to lease the space out again. It held too many memories, both good and bad.
I tipped my chin at Cary in greeting and sat beside Eva. My wife’s best friend was dressed to go out, while Eva wore a Cross Industries T-shirt and had her hair twisted up in a clip. They both glanced at me, and I knew something was wrong.
There were things to discuss, but whatever was troubling Eva was the pressing priority.