—
They stayed on that couch for hours, talking and touching, affirming their bond. Finally, Eleanor took his hand and led him to the guest bedroom. She left the light off, and they sat on the edge of the bed in the darkness. Trey wrapped her in his arms and they stared across to his building and the brilliantly lit Christmas tree he’d put up for her to see.
“The second time I ever saw you in this window, it was Christmas time,” she said softly after a comfortable silence.
“I’m not sure I want to ask what I was doing, precisely,” he said dryly.
“You were so beautiful to me, from the beginning,” she murmured, lost in her thoughts. “You were amazing to look at, but I think it was the way you moved that had me spellbound. You were so confident in your own skin, so vibrant . . . so sexy.”
He nuzzled her temple. She turned her chin up to look at him. His face looked sculpted and hard in the shadows, but the city lights gleamed warmly in his eyes. “That’s a good description of how I felt when I first saw you in the coffee house,” he said gruffly.
“Really?” she whispered.
“Yeah. When you get yourself into a zone, it’s like you start to move to the beat of the universe or something. When you dance, it’s like you’re giving yourself up to it. It’s incredible to see. I still can’t get over the fact that you didn’t do it regularly. I mean . . . I’m glad no one else has seen you like that.” He brushed his fingertip across her temple and she saw his small smile. “I’m ecstatic about it, actually. I want you all to myself. But that doesn’t negate the fact that you look like you were born to dance. Made to drive me nuts,” he added under his breath.
Her lips parted in wonder.
“I’m sorry we missed the reading events last week,” she whispered.
“Me too.” His finger traced the line of her jaw. “But maybe this way, I can talk you into reading the rest of Pride and Prejudice to me.”
She smiled. “Only if you read Born to Submit to me.”
His eyebrows arched. “It’s a deal.”
She chuckled, but a flash of heat went through her at the idea of hearing Xander and Katya’s sexy trysts told in Trey’s deep, compelling voice. “I had something planned, for that night you came to the museum . . . the night when we ended up at the hospital.”
“What?” he asked, still stroking her jaw with his fingertip.
She hesitated only for a second before she stood. “I’ll show you. You stay here. Lean back on the pillows and get comfortable.”
—
A few minutes later, she hit a button on the stereo and the sounds of Trey’s fluid, melodic finger work on the guitar filled the entire condo. She loved this particular piece. It’d made her ache again and again during the time period when she didn’t see him. Nevertheless, it hadn’t stopped her from listening to it more times than she could count.
Her heart raced madly by the time she walked down the hallway. She’d changed into a clinging, revealing negligee and matching robe. She wore her favorite shoes for dancing.
And the panties.
You’re really going to do this. Finally. You’re going to expose yourself to him, and he’s going to be right there.
She was going to strip, just feet away from him. She was going to seduce him . . . and she was going to give him the control. It was a challenge for her, an ultimate act of intimacy. But it was Trey, and it was a challenge she was ready to meet.
When she entered the guest bedroom a moment later, she saw that he reclined at the head of the bed, his shoes off, propped up against the pillows. She didn’t turn on the light. There was enough illumination from the city lights to make each other out in the darkness.
She walked around the bed and stretched out her hand to him, the sounds of his strong, fluid fingers on the guitar strings rippling and pulsing in the air around them, seducing her.
“Here,” she whispered. “Do what you want with it. Do what you want to me . . . whenever you want it. I trust you.”
She handed him the small remote control for the panties she wore. She’d barely registered his look of surprise at her words when she spun around, and begun to dance to his music.
EPILOGUE
Four months later
Eleanor arrived at Trey’s office a few minutes past five. She barely had had time to exchange a few words with Theresa, his admin, before he came out of his office, his manner striking her as strangely tense.
“We’ve got to go,” he told Eleanor, taking her hand and pulling her away from Theresa’s desk. “See you later, Theresa.”