Stephanie Evanovich - The Sweet Spot

She couldn’t answer; she was focused on his warm gentle baritone, measured and rhythmic. She knew this voice. It was the one that made her crazy and usually ended in her rapture.

“Which leaves me with a real problem,” he continued in her ear. “You’ve requested a very private punishment in a rather public setting. And because you control me, I have to give you what you want. And don’t worry, angel, you may still get your wish.” He then added, “Although I make no promises as to when.”

What was that? Her pulse quickened again and she pulled her head away from his, trying to focus on him with wide eyes. Did he just say he wasn’t going to spank her?

He laughed a little, wrapping another length of the sash around his knuckles, pulling her closer to him, still without touching her. “I forgot to mention, topping from the bottom usually backfires.”

He waited for her to settle back down before whispering, “By the time I’m done with you, you’re going to be begging me to violate you ten ways till Sunday.”

Then he waited for the chill to pass through her before adding, “But until then, I’m not going to touch you. After all, your folks are members here.”

He took a healthy lock of her hair and twirled it around his fingers, careful not to pull. “I love your hair. I’m taken by all of you, but your hair is second to only one other part of you. And although I consider even the tips of your toes mine, there are some parts that are more exclusive than others. Do you know what body part tops that list?”

Chase stepped back from her, lifted her arms a bit higher above her head, and his free hand dipped into her robe, softly grazing the underside of her breast with his fingers. He gently flicked his fingertip against an already taut nipple and he heard her breath catch deep in her throat.

“Okay,” he said, low and husky, his hand moving to her other breast, lightly tracing a circle around it. “I may have lied about the touching, but you’re still going to learn a little lesson about control. Come on, take a guess. What body part will you never ever share with another man again?”

Amanda had to lean back against the massage table. Between his hot breath against her ear, his hand committing a torture of the most feathery kind, and her arms still above her head, she was dizzy enough to actually faint. If it caught him by surprise, she could dislocate a shoulder when she became deadweight. That sort of embarrassment wasn’t out of the question, as her history would dictate.

“I’ve taken the control, all of it. It’s okay, baby, I’ve got you,” he whispered before lightly biting down on her earlobe. His fingertips brushed faintly between her breasts and down over her navel. She pulled against the restraints on her wrists and spread her legs slightly apart in anticipation and he stopped.

“You may have traumatized a completely competent massage therapist out of his career. At the very least, you took ten years off his life. He looked pretty shaken up. You should feel bad about that.” His fingertips danced a little bit lower.

“I do, Chase, I do. I feel like crying,” she whispered, breathlessly exhaling the admission. All she had to do was tell him to stop and he would. She wasn’t worried about his stopping; she was terrified he wouldn’t keep going. His thick fingers made little spirals down and back up her thigh as they continued on their quest. When he passed lightly over her sex, it produced an all-consuming throb and she tried to trap his hand there by closing her legs. And he almost allowed it, but then denied her, returning to their quiz.

“That would be a logical guess and totally up there, but that one goes without saying. Try again.”

He continued slowly swirling his fingertips around her thigh before coming to rest possessively on her behind. He gave it a little squeeze followed by a gentle pat.

“I think we reached the end of the riddle.” She sighed softly.

“Ever heard the phrase ‘You won’t be able to sit for week’?” He asked offhandedly, squeezing again. “I almost want to put that one to the test.”

And then he leaned into her. He was full and hard and it pressed into her stomach. He may have teased her to the point of distraction, but there was no denying she had succeeded in arousing him as well, and he wanted her to know it. With her arms still suspended above her head, tight within the sash and his grip, she blinked up at him.

“I certainly deserve it. I’ve been a very bad girl,” Amanda said seductively. He let out a rush of air and his sex pulsated against her.

“And you’re so good at it,” he ground out, releasing her arms, which fell neatly over his head and around his neck as he lifted her. His mouth covered hers just in time to stifle her ecstasy-filled cry when he buried his erection inside her.

“FEEL LIKE TAKING a ride? There’s something I want to show you,” Chase asked Amanda rhetorically one afternoon after he picked her up at her apartment. The enjoyment in their road trips never waned. Moments alone midseason were precious and few. He didn’t say anything more and they drove away from the city and headed northwest. They talked of the usual, how they’d spent the day, the chores they’d done. Amanda asked no questions and made no guesses as to their destination and Chase didn’t give any clues, which had become their standard practice. Surprising each other was a contest, and not always about high stakes. Less than an hour later, they were off the highway and onto picturesque streets. At the intersection of what appeared to be a dirt road, Amanda saw a very familiar black Ford Expedition with tinted windows. Chase gave a haphazard wave in its direction and turned onto the unpaved trail, giving little thought to the damage the uneven terrain might cause to his hundred-and-fifty-thousand-dollar driving machine.

What has he found now? Amanda smiled to herself, wondering if they were going to spend a half hour marveling at some rock with a plaque near it that said George Washington rested a foot there. Chase loved history, the American Revolution in particular, and New Jersey was lousy with it. She had accompanied him to countless state parks and monuments, but he sometimes also went off the beaten path to lesser-known bridges and barns and battlefields. And it never ceased to amaze her how he could turn from a grown man to an enthusiastic juvenile whenever he encountered them. He took pictures of them with his phone; sometimes video. She recalled one of the rare times he’d pimped out his celebrity status after driving to a site that was now a private home. But the house had been meticulously preserved and was just too authentic for him to pass up. He had pulled in front of it, grabbed a signed baseball out of his trunk, and knocked on the door. And because he was Chase Walker, the proud if not surprised owners had spent nearly two hours giving them a tour. He listened and pondered aloud with the middle-aged couple over iced tea in a pristine garden what it must have been like to have been there, the trials and tribulations of the country’s forefathers forging a nation. She had determined Chase really did have an old soul.

But it turned out they weren’t on a road at all. They were on a driveway, a very long one. It was hard to tell exactly how long, because there were still acres of trees left to be cleared. It led to what Amanda could only describe as a castle. It was vast, complete with a round tower on one end, the kind that Rapunzel would’ve let her hair down from the top of. Only it didn’t look dilapidated and historical. This particular structure looked brand-new. In fact, it looked like it was still under construction. The frame was sturdy and solid, the gray stonework completed, but the walkways were unfinished, much like the driveway. Landscaping had yet to be done. Chase drove up to the front of it and cut the engine.

“We’re here,” he announced happily while jumping out of his side of the car, practically skipping over to hers. He helped her out of the car and together they made their way to the front door. After opening it, Chase lifted Amanda up, cradling her in his arms.

“What are you doing!” she squawked, caught unaware.

“I know it’s not finished and we’re not married, but I’m not taking any chances,” he replied with her securely against him. Then he crossed the threshold and entered the building before setting her down and closing the heavy ornate door behind them.

From the outside, the house looked imposing. From the inside it was immense. After catching her breath, Amanda looked up and around from the imported-marble-floored foyer where they stood. The ceiling was nearly fifty feet above her and there were two grand circular staircases at opposite ends of the foyer that led to the second floor. A large crystal chandelier hung from above her, patiently waiting for its final hookup to illuminate the entranceway. With the implication of his words when he lifted her up settling in, Amanda was speechless.

“Come on,” he coaxed while taking her hand and enjoying her astonishment. “Take a look around while it’s still daylight.”

Chase began to lead her around the first floor of the expansive mansion. The walls were up and plastered, but most rooms were as yet unpainted. The windows were all installed but still needed molding. Random loose electrical wires were exposed and capped. This was obviously a project he had kept to himself for quite a while. They hadn’t even been together a year yet. Either he started building this house the day they met, or he had a lot of people working around the clock.

“I’m leaving all the decorating here to you,’ he announced excitedly when they reached the huge, empty kitchen, “since it’s your specialty and all.”

Amanda nodded mutely, still trying to fully grasp the situation.

Late-day sun streamed in from the sliding glass doors that ran the length of the back of the house. He chattered away enthusiastically about hardwoods and lighting and plumbing fixtures as they continued their tour of the first floor, which consisted of room after spacious room designed for dinning and entertaining, relaxing and living. Many of the rooms had an overhead walkway looking down from the second floor. He took her upstairs where six bedrooms awaited completion, including one in the tower, which was intended to serve as the master suite. It was private and set as far as possible from the rest of the house. It had two rooms plus a bathroom, and the closet was as big as her apartment. She counted seven full and three half bathrooms by the time she was finished with her tour, and they ended back on the ground floor in what resembled a full fairy-tale-style ballroom just beyond the foyer where they first entered.

“This is nothing short of a palace,” Amanda finally said, taking note of the thirty-foot glass doors that went from floor to ceiling in the room and led out to acres of recently cleared land, waiting to be turned into gardens, pools, and tennis courts. “Fit for a king.”

“And a princess,” he added, grinning in the adorable way that made her heart race every time.

She stared at him blankly, once again words forsaking her.

“Mandy,” he told her softly, squeezing her hand, “I’m building this house for you. For us.”

“Seriously?” She laughed, embarrassed and giddy at the same time. She pulled her hand away and crossed her arms over her chest, stepping away from him, looking around again in awe. “This was a pretty big secret to keep to yourself.”

“Well,” he said by way of explanation, “you’re always complaining about how everything in my apartment is made for a giant.”

“I’m not sure this is the right direction.” She laughed again, turning briefly back to him before returning her gaze out the doors at the magnificent view of the sun beginning to set. “If this is your solution to the problem, I think you may have missed the point.”

“No, I didn’t,” Chase replied from behind her. “We’re going to fill this place with Amanda-sized things.”

She probably shouldn’t have been surprised. The size of his apartment and everything in it had become a running joke, but she had never intended for him to take those comments to heart. She already knew he was good at keeping secrets, but figured he was done withholding anything from her. He was also thoughtful and enjoyed doing things in a big way. It was no secret he had money to burn. But this had nothing to do with money; he wasn’t trying to buy her. He wanted to please her. Even if it was sentimental and completely extreme, any discord on her part was met by his immediate reaction to remedy it. It was both a blessing and a curse, the increasing responsibility to protect the image and the ego of an overgrown adolescent who also happened to be a phenom with a fetish. Chase snuck up behind her and wrapped his arms around her, leaning her against him and resting his head on top of hers.