I reach up and go for the buttons on his shirt, pulling them apart one by one. Calder growls and reaches around behind me, his hands sliding down to cup my ass. He begins to tug the fabric of my dress up toward my hips, and I hear myself moan in anticipation of his touch against my bare flesh.
He pauses.
I’ve reached the last button on his shirt, but in my excitement my fingers are fumbling.
“Wait,” he says, his hands closing around mine.
“It’s a quiet building,” I assure him. “Everyone else is probably in bed already.” Still, I reach for my purse, for my keys. It will probably be more comfortable in my bed anyway.
But Calder shakes his head. “That’s not what I mean.”
My keys are already out of my purse, but I don’t turn around to face the door. “I don’t understand.”
He lets out a long, shaky breath—in that way people do before they tell you something they know you won’t want to hear. Something clenches in my stomach.
“What is it?” I prompt.
“Lily,” he says slowly. “I was thinking, back in the car… Maybe we should slow things down for a bit.”
There it is. Like a punch to my gut. I suddenly feel like I can’t breathe, but I don’t want him to see how much of a shock his words are to me.
“What do you mean by ‘slow things down’?” I ask, impressing myself with how calm, how emotionless my voice sounds.
He’s studying my face closely, I can feel it, but I don’t dare look him in the eye.
“Maybe…” he says. “Maybe we should just try dating for a little while. No sex.”
No… sex. It takes my brain a moment to process what he’s suggesting. “Why?” to inspect the damage. L" aid="
“I just don’t want us to get in over our heads,” he says.
I finally summon the nerve to look up at him, and when I do, he’s raking his hand through his hair. He’s having trouble looking at me.
“Is that okay?” he says. “I think it might be good for us. Think of it as a game.”
Good for us? I’m not sure how to interpret that, but I’m afraid to ask.
“All right,” I agree, because I’m not sure what else to say. “Just dating, no sex.”
He smiles, but it’s a small smile, as if he’s still uncertain at my response—or is he uncertain about his own suggestion? I’ve dated enough to know that one partner wanting “slow things down” is never a good thing.
But I won’t argue with him here. I won’t let him see how much his words have hurt me.
“In that case,” I say, “I guess this is goodnight.”
He nods. I can’t read the expression in his eyes—is that regret?—but I’m not sure I want to know the truth. I turn and unlock the door with shaking hands. His eyes bore into my back, but he doesn’t try to stop me.
“Goodnight, Lily,” he says as I retreat inside the apartment.
I stand by the door long after I’ve closed it, hoping, in my pathetic little heart, that he’ll change his mind. That he’ll come back and knock on my door and tell me it was all some sick joke.
But he doesn’t.
CHAPTER THREE
“What’s wrong with you this week?” Morgan asks. “You seem distracted.” long-distance" aid=" certainly
She’s brought me the supply list for her upcoming classes, and I’ve spent the last five minutes trying to find the master list on the computer. I can’t remember the damned file name.
“I’m fine,” I assure her, but Morgan’s too astute for that. She plunks down in the chair across from me and props her elbow on my desk.
“Trouble with Mr. Hunky McBillionaire?”
As promised, I talked to her the morning after my date with Calder. Once she realized who he was, she wanted to know everything. And I mean everything. I haven’t told her the full story, of course—a girl needs to keep her secrets, especially when they involve sex games and mysterious mansions. I didn’t tell her about the way our date ended, either. I’m still trying to process it myself.
I mean, he spent all evening teasing me with his wicked promises, touching me and whispering about the things he would do to me later. He took my panties, for freak’s sake. What the hell happened? What could his financial advisor possibly say to him during that call that would change everything so drastically?
“Everything’s fine with us,” I assure Morgan.
“Mm-hm.” She clearly doesn’t believe me.
Honestly, I don’t want to get into it with her. I’ve been trying to keep myself from thinking about it, since I know that over-analyzing these things only makes them seem worse. He only asked to slow things down. He’s probably just trying to be a gentleman. Maybe he’s right—maybe this will be good for us.
Whatever the reason, I refuse to dwell on it. I’ve poured myself into my work these past three days, trying to concentrate on something productive, but if Morgan’s noticed that something’s wrong then I must not be doing a very good job of hiding my mood.
I finally find the file containing the supply master list, but I can still feel Morgan studying me as I plug in the new numbers.
“He hasn’t called you, has he?” she says.
I’ve been trying not to think about that, either. I mean, no matter what all those dating rules say, it doesn’t matter whether he waits one day or three to call after a date. Couples have lives outside of each other. through the wrought iron. somethingpa
And we’re not even officially a couple yet, so none of this matters anyway.
God, I’m a mess.
Morgan leans across the desk and grabs my arm.
“Please, Lily,” she begs. “You went out with Calder-freaking-Cunningham. You’re the only one of us allowed to have scandalous dating adventures. Let me live vicariously through you.” Morgan’s getting married in the spring. In fact, she moved out here this past summer to be with her fiancé, who works at one of the large banks downtown. She hasn’t had the chance to make many friends, which works out for me since I don’t have many either. I work such long hours that I rarely meet anyone outside of the Center.
“Come on,” Morgan teases. She leans forward. “Ooh, was he bad in bed? Wait—does he have a small dick?”
“What? No! No, of course not! His dick is fine. More than fine.”
“Ah, so you’ve slept with him then.”