Professional Liaison by Sandy Sullivan Page A

convince me to come up here with you.”
    A warm chuckle reverberated through his chest and she could feel it at her back. “Because you’re curious, babe.”
“Curious?”
    “Yep. You want to know about some of those things you saw at the club. How the sting of the crop would feel against your ass. What it would be like to be stripped and handcuffed to the bed while your Dom licks that sweet pussy of yours until you’ve had so many orgasms, you can’t think straight anymore.”
    The wet slide of his tongue on her neck had her toes curling against the soft carpet beneath their feet. Gathering her courage, she stepped out of his embrace and turned to face him.
    “I can’t do this, Drew.”
“Do what?”
    “I can’t only have a physical relationship. I thought I could, but I’ve realized I want more than that. I’m thirty-five years old and although I’ve never had children, gravity is taking its toll.”
    “Is that what you think we have?”
“Isn’t it?”
    He took a seat on the couch and stretched his arm across the back. “No. You’re a very beautiful woman. A very desirable woman and I care about you.”
    “Whatever. You know, until right before I went to the club with Brad and Mandy, I didn’t even know how old you were.”
    “What difference does it make?”
    She walked to the sliding glass door and peered out, taking in the pine trees and the filtering sunlight as the sun tried to disappear behind the hills. “You’re only twenty-eight. I’m fucking seven years older than you. I was already in second grade when you were born.”
    “I repeat, what the hell difference does it make, Liss? I want you —you want me.”
    “Then we’re back to the physical thing. I can’t deny you know what buttons to push, but I want more.” Sliding her palms down her arms, she tried to calm the hair standing up on the surface. “You would never be happy tied to someone that much older than you. After awhile, you would regret…”
    With a quick twist of his wrist, he spun her around to face him and captured her mouth in a desperate kiss. His tongue swept inside when she whimpered and parted her lips under the pressure of his. Binding her hands behind her with one of his, the other palm slid over her breast, forcing her nipple to pucker against it.
    When she finally gave into the insistent, demanding pressure, he finally lifted his head and stared into her eyes. “I would never regret being with you,” he whispered. His fingers drifted down her cheek and she felt a tear burning her eye before it slipped silently down her face. “Why are you crying?”
    She shook her head and bit her lip to keep from telling him what she harbored in her heart.
    “Tell me.” He gathered her to his side and moved toward the couch before he sank down on the soft cushion, cradling her on his lap. “Lissa. Don’t cry, baby.” One thumb wiped the tears now streaming down her face. “I hate to see you cry.”
    “I can’t help it.” She sniffed, trying to steam the flow of tears, but they just kept coming.
“Why?”
    The only way she knew to keep him from finding out the truth of what she held in her heart for him, was to put his mind on other things. “Make love to me, Drew.”
    With a hearty growl, he picked her up in his arms and headed down the hall toward what she assumed to be the bedroom. When he reached the side of the bed, he dropped her on the cool comforter and she could see the almost feral gleam in his eyes.
    “What are you going to do?”
    “You’ll see, but right now, you need to strip for me.”
“Excuse me?”
    “You heard me. Strip. Right there in the middle of the bed. I want to see all of you.”
    After a moment of indecision, she realized this would probably be the last time they were together and she would give him anything he wanted—let him control every move during their feverish sex. “Whatever you want, Drew.”
“Good girl.”
    Reaching for the edge of her tank top, she gave him a shy