Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 86510 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 433(@200wpm)___ 346(@250wpm)___ 288(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86510 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 433(@200wpm)___ 346(@250wpm)___ 288(@300wpm)
“Tell me everything about yourself, Blossom,” Ronan says.
With his command, I want to spill my guts. But I say only, “My real name is Mariah. Mary for short.”
“Mary?” He looks down at me, his eyes smoldering once more. “You don’t look much like a Mary.”
I stifle a giggle. “You’re not the first person to say that, but I’ve been called Mary ever since I was a kid. No one calls me Mariah. And at the club, everyone calls me Blossom.”
“How did you come up with Blossom?”
“One of my first Doms at Black Rose gave me the name. He said I blossomed under his touch. From then on he called me Blossom, and it stuck.”
“And did you?”
“Did I what?”
“Did you blossom under his touch?”
I hedge a bit. “We had fun together. He’s no longer a member of the club. This was when I first started going, years ago.”
“I see.” Ronan brings his other arm over and covers my hand with his. “Perhaps you budded, bloomed, and blossomed with him. But for me, Mary, you’re going to effloresce.”
Effloresce?
It’s not a word I’ve heard or seen before, but I don’t need a dictionary to know what he means by the context.
“You think so?” I say coyly.
“I know so,” he confirms. “I knew it the moment I laid eyes on you. You’re not ready for a scene with me yet, Mary, but you will be. And when you are? I’m going to make you forget every other Dominant who ever touched you.”
Chapter Five
Ronan
I feel the shudder that flows through her body.
I’m going to have her.
I’m going to have her in ways she never dreamed of.
But I need to take it slow. Something has her rattled, and for me to be a good Dominant, I need to know what happened.
She’s clearly an experienced submissive, but she’s spooked. She’s not ready to play yet. Some subs like to get to know their Doms outside of a club atmosphere before they play. Blossom isn’t normally one of them—she said as much when she admitted no one ever asked her to leave the club with them before—but at this moment, she is.
Moreover? I have the desire to get to know her.
Odd.
I didn’t think it would happen so soon.
Not after…
I shake my head to clear it. I can’t go back to the past. I can’t dwell on what I’ve lost. I must move forward. That’s why I came back to the States. It’s why I got involved with Braden Black and his company, Black, Inc.
I plan to stay here. Because right now? Glasgow—all of Scotland—doesn’t seem like home anymore. Not with Keira wanting more from me than I can give and my parents—who I love—doing the same thing they’ve always done. Putting business and themselves over me, their only child.
Mary stops at a brick building with a neon sign flashing “Gianni’s.” Underneath it is another sign: The best pizza in the city! Actually, it says, The best zza in the city! as the P and the I are burned out. This place has been around for a while, and that instantly warms me to it. I’ve always been drawn to things with a history behind them.
I open the door for Mary, and as she walks in, I follow. The robust scent of roasted tomato and cheese wafts toward me, and I inhale deeply.
“Smells amazing in here,” I say.
“Told you, didn’t I?” Mary walks toward the counter, but no one’s standing there. “Mikey? Are you here?”
A young, gangly-looking man walks out from the back. He stares at my getup for a split second. “Hi, Mary. Mikey’s off tonight.”
“Hey, Greg,” she says and smiles. “My new friend here wants to try the best pizza in the city.”
“Not a problem.” He gestures to the massive pizzas on display. “No vegetarian tonight, though. We’re out of onions and peppers. Delivery comes in the morning.”
“Is that a problem for you, Ronan?” she asks.
“Hell, no. The more meat, the better.”
“Two slices of pepperoni, then,” Mary says. “And two… What do you want to drink?”
“Water’s fine.” I noticed Mary had only water at the club earlier, and I don’t want to risk making her feel uncomfortable by drinking alcohol in front of her.
Greg grabs our slices, warms them in the oven, and Mary pulls her wallet out of her purse.
“My treat. It was my idea to leave the club.” I take a credit card out of my sporran.
“Next time,” she says. “It’s cash-only here.”
I raise my eyebrows. Not that cash-only is a problem for me. I have plenty of cash on me. I’m just surprised. “Seriously?”
“You are new here.” She gives me a smile. “You’ll get the hang of things. This one’s on me.”
If she wants to pay, it’s not my place to say she can’t. I tuck away my credit card.
The tiny restaurant is cramped, but it does have three small tables, two of which are vacant. I assume because it’s hours past the dinner rush.