Reagan Walsh bit her bottom lip as she watched Rafe Newell’s long legs eat up the distance as he crossed the tarmac. It should be a crime for any man to be so good looking. Six plus feet of pure dominant male. His dark hair looked like it was a couple of weeks past a scheduled trim, the soft waves curling at the collar of his white linen shirt. With his tie loosened and suit jacket slung over his shoulder, his sauntering gait made him appear more like a GQ model than a world-renowned plastic surgeon.
“You’re drooling, Reagan.” Kelsey Jones was the first person Reagan met when she moved to Montana. Over time, they’d become friends because they spent so many hours together at work. The two of them usually spent their lunch breaks dreaming about finding better jobs, but there didn’t seem to be much on the horizon for either of them.
Reagan kept hearing rumors the small regional air carrier they worked for planned to merge with a larger company on the west coast, but her boss hadn’t confirmed or denied the chatter. Being the paranoid person she was, Reagan had recently accepted a part-time waitressing job at a nearby kink club. She’d nearly tripped over her own feet the first night when she’d seen the man who starred in all her sexual fantasies walk into the club’s opulent main room.
“I am not drooling.” She caught herself before she could smooth her fingers over her mouth to check, a move she was certain would earn her a bark of laughter and weeks of relentless teasing from her friend. “Oh my God, he’s coming in.” In all the months she’d been watching him, he’d never deviated from his set path. Pilot Rafe had proven to be as predictable as Master Rafe was unpredictable.
“Places to go, people to see. I’m outta here. Have fun and don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.” Kelsey’s sing-song voice was tinged with something other than fun as it faded into the back room. Reagan was alone when Rafe pushed open the glass door of the cargo company’s small office, and she could have sworn all the air was suddenly sucked out of the room, leaving her gasping for oxygen.
He’s probably lost. Don’t panic. And for fucksake don’t babble. Reagan forced a smile in greeting and sent up a silent prayer Kelsey had been kidding about the drool.
“Good afternoon, Reagan.” His deep voice sent shock waves of need all the way to her core.
“Dr. Newell, h-hi. W-what can I do for you?” Damn her nervous stutter.
His panty-dropping smile sent a surge of heat searing through her, and she felt her cheeks flame. “Are you working at the club this evening?”
Landon and Savannah Nixon had gotten married a few days earlier and were celebrating this evening with a reception at Mountain Mastery. Reagan had been asked to serve during the last half of the party and to help the caterers clean up since she was familiar with where things belonged in the club’s enormous storage room.
“Yes, Sir.” His eyes widened, and she saw heat flash in them before it was masked behind his usual cool, indifferent expression.
“Very good, Peach.” His smooth voice flowed over her like warm honey, and Reagan felt the warmth all the way to her toes.
He’d given her the nickname the first night she’d worked at the club. She’d leaned close, trying to clean up a spilled drink, and inadvertently sent her long chestnut hair tumbling over his bare arm. He’d wrapped the waist length strands around his hand and tugged her closer enough he could bury his nose in the silky locks. Whispering against her ear, Master Rafe had told her, “You smell like peaches. Are you as sweet and juicy as a ripe peach, Reagan?” His question had shocked her, but she hadn’t gotten an opportunity to answer. Master Nate’s admonishment that she was working caused Rafe to release her, but not before he’d ignited something deep inside her. Reagan’s knees had been quaking so violently she’d worried her legs wouldn’t hold her up.
“Reagan?” His use of her real name startled her out of the foray she’d taken into the memory. Damn, had he asked her a question? “Where were you?”
“Where?”
“Don’t play coy, Peach. I spoke to you twice before you responded. Tell me what was so enchanting it changed your respiration rate and dilated those pretty brown eyes.”
“Peaches. Umm, I was just remembering my first night at the club. You said I smelled like peaches.” He didn’t respond, but his lips twitched in amusement. “I’m sorry. Did you want me to do something for you this evening?”
The minute the words slipped past her lips, Reagan was certain she’d made a mistake. The blatant sexual innuendo mortified her. Covering her face with her hands, she shook her head. “Oh, God. I swear I didn’t mean that the way it sounded.”
“Hmmm? Pity.” She didn’t need to see his face to know he was amused. She could practically hear the laughter in his voice. Sucking in a deep breath, she put her hands back on the counter. “What time do you get off work?”
Reagan glanced at her watch before answering. “In fifteen minutes. I’m the last one here, so I will begin locking up in a few minutes. Did you need something, Sir?”
“Do you have plans for dinner?”
“D-dinner?” God bless it, she sounded like a stammering fool. And everything about Rafe Newell made her as jumpy as frog legs in a hot skillet.
“Yes, the meal one usually eats in the evening?” He grinned at her, and she felt her cheeks flame again. Using the backs of his fingers, he brushed over the hot flesh. “You flush such a beautiful shade of red. I wonder what other parts of you I could turn that lovely hue?”
She glanced down at the ugly khaki uniform shirt she wore with her well-worn jeans and sighed. “I’m not really dressed to go out.” It wouldn’t matter if she had time to go home and change since she didn’t have anything remotely nice enough for a dinner date. At one time, she’d had a closet full of beautiful clothes. But those, along with the shoes and jewelry she’d sold, were all part of the price she’d paid for her escape.
When she looked up, he was studying her closely. “I’m interested in the person beneath the clothing, Peach. Did you drive to work?”
“No, Sir. I rode with Kelsey.” And she bolted when she saw you headed this way.
“And where is Kelsey now?” The small lines between his brows were the only indication he wasn’t pleased.
“Umm, she had to leave, I guess.” Reagan wasn’t going to tell him the other woman had laughed at her more than once for staring as he’d walked by. Kelsey had a way of making Reagan feel like a girl from the wrong side of the tracks watching a party from afar.
“And she left you here alone without a ride?” When she didn’t respond, he shook his head. “Sweetheart, I do believe you need to reevaluate your dependence on co-workers for rides. How would you have gotten home?”
“It’s only a few miles. I usually walk to the bus stop and then…” She didn’t finish because she could have sworn she heard him growl.
“Lock up and let’s go get something to eat. Then I’ll take you to your place so you can get whatever you need for work.”
Rafe reined in his growing frustration. Didn’t it figure that the day he’d finally decided to ask Reagan to dinner, she’d be talking to the one woman he made every effort to avoid? He’d had a clear view into the office as he walked across the small airport’s open tarmac and seen the two women standing at the counter. Reagan’s attention had been focused on him, her expression a perfect mixture of desire and apprehension. He doubted she understood what a siren’s call that combination was to a man as sexually dominant as Rafe.
His reputation as a sadist had been exaggerated by the club’s rabid rumor mill, but it wasn’t entirely without merit. Most sadists gained their sexual pleasure from causing pain; Rafe’s came from pushing a submissive’s boundaries until they were a heartbeat from snapping. He wanted subs to experience the blurring of the line between pleasure and pain. Gaining a submissive’s trust—having her surrender her body into his care—was a heady feeling. The significance of that gift couldn’t be overstated.
Sending a willing submissive into sub-space was the goal of every scene. The subs he played with understood what he expected. They were also certain he’d go to the mat to take them to entirely new levels of sexual satisfaction. Opening a sub’s eyes to higher, more intense levels of pleasure would put a smile on any Dom’s face. But one of the first things newbie subs discovered was that he only played at the club. He didn’t date club members—ever.
Rafe had the feeling Reagan Walsh was going to be an exception to every rule. She’d caught his eye months ago when he’d walked by as she was washing the wall of windows at the front of the local airports only cargo carrier. She’d been watching him in the glass reflection, and when he’d spoken to her as he passed, she’d smiled sweetly and nodded in response. He had gotten the impression she was shy rather than unfriendly; something about her intrigued him. The next week, he’d made a point to fly in at approximately the same time, hoping to see her again. They’d repeated the same dance of distance for two more weeks before he’d shown up an hour late one Thursday and missed her.
Cursing his scatterbrained assistant for overscheduling him before a three-day weekend, Rafe had been in such a foul mood he’d almost re-boarded his jet and returned to San Francisco. One of the perks of flying himself was being able to leave as soon as the ground crew finished refueling. But his co-pilot was already glued to his date in a lip-lock Rafe worried might melt the asphalt from the parking lot. Muttering under his breath, Rafe decided there was no reason to spoil their fun just because he’d missed saying hello to a woman he still hadn’t had the courage to talk to.
Thank God he hadn’t given in to his temper because what he’d found when he walked into Mountain Mastery’s main room later that evening had been a game changer. Two steps beyond the door, his gaze landed on the woman who was starring in all his fantasies without ever saying more than “good afternoon.” Watching her move around the room while serving drinks, he noted the economy of her movements. Even her smallest moves had purpose; nothing was wasted effort. It was mesmerizing to watch.
Bringing his thoughts back to the present, Rafe hadn’t been surprised when he saw Kelsey scurry out the back door of the small cargo carrier’s office. The damned woman was a menace. It was unfortunate she and Reagan appeared to be friendly. He made a mental note to ask Nate if the other woman was still a member of the club. It had been months since he’d seen her around, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t simply avoiding him. I should be so lucky.
He’d played with Kelsey twice at the club, but she hadn’t been pleased when he’d refused to fuck her. If he’d listened to his inner voice, he’d have never agreed to the second scene. But he’d been bored, and she’d been available. She’s also bat-shit crazy. She’d rocketed from begging and contrite to psychotic stalker in the time it had taken him fly back to San Francisco. Getting rid of her had taken law enforcement intervention, and the price of her return ticket to Montana had been money well spent.
Typical Kelsey—the world revolved around her. She’d left her friend to find her own way home, and on a night when Reagan had to work, too. Watching Reagan move around the small office, checking to be sure everything was secured, was enlightening. He couldn’t hold back his smile when she nervously checked the same door for the third time. “Do I make you uncomfortable, Peach?”
“Yes. Sir. Dr. Newell.” Her face was crimson by the time she stopped trying to determine exactly how she should address him.
“We aren’t playing, so please call me Rafe. I’m guessing you don’t usually address your dinner companions so formally.” She stared at him, blinking several times as if that was going to clear up what he’d said. He waited until he saw the corners of her mouth twitch as she tried to hold back her grin.
“I’m sure you would be right…if I had dinner companions. As it is, I usually miss dinner.” He could tell she’d revealed more than she’d intended to, but he held his questions. There would be plenty of time to make inquiries later. Rafe held the door open and watched her pull the lightweight jacket she was wearing around her. He’d barely landed ahead of the storm front moving through, and the temperature was plummeting fast.
Wrapping his suit jacket around her, Rafe led Reagan to his SUV. He settled her into the plush leather seat and leaned close to fasten her seat belt. The soft scent of peaches was tempting, but she wasn’t ready for him to taste her the way he wanted to. “You’ve worked all day and still smell like peaches.” He pressed a quick kiss to her forehead then added, “Sit tight. I’ll get the car warmed up so you stop shivering.” He cursed Kelsey again as he rounded the front of his SUV. Reagan would have been frozen by the time she walked to the bus stop.
During the short drive into town, he noticed her fidgeting in her seat. “Spit it out, Peach. What’s on your mind?”
“I just wanted to say thanks. It would have been a really cold walk. Working two jobs doesn’t leave me a lot of time to go shopping for a warmer coat.”
“You don’t have anything else?” When she shook her head, his hands tightened around the steering wheel. “I’m assuming you moved from a much warmer climate, because that light weight jacket is not going to get you through the winter, sweetheart.” Hell, it wasn’t enough now. “Why are you working two jobs?”
He noticed her stiffen, but she answered without hesitating. “There are rumors the cargo company is going to lay off a couple people. I’m already barely getting by, and losing that income would put me out on the street. Since I haven’t been there long, I’ll be one of the first to go. So, it seemed smart to try to save enough money to tide me over.”
Rafe wondered how she’d ended up in Montana, but didn’t want to steer the conversation in a different direction. “I’d heard they were being bought out, but I hadn’t heard they planned to pare down their employee roster.”
When he’d first noticed Reagan, he asked a few of the other pilots about the company she worked for. The small airport was almost a community itself, so one question had brought a torrent of information. No one had mentioned layoffs, but he could see why she was concerned. Rafe was damned impressed she was willing to work hard to give herself a financial cushion.
Parking in front of a small café, Rafe turned in his seat so he could look at the beautiful woman sitting beside him. “This place has great food. Have you eaten here?”
“No. I don’t eat out very often because it’s too expensive.”
“What did you eat for dinner last night, Reagan?” He’d tried to keep his voice neutral, but was convinced he hadn’t succeeded when he saw her barely perceptible flinch. Rafe thought for a minute she might lie to him, but when her shoulders sagged, he didn’t doubt he’d get the truth.
“I had the second half of my Ramen noodle burrito.”
“Breakfast?” She shook her head. He got the same response when he asked about lunch. Closing his eyes, Rafe shook his head and cursed under his breath. “Stay right where you are, Peach.” He stalked around the SUV and was pleased she hadn’t made any effort to get out on her own. Helping her to her feet, he tucked her hand into the crook of his arm and led her into the quaint eatery. The floors were covered in tile squares so well-worn the speckles had long since faded from the surface. The countertops and tables still sported Formica® Rafe assumed was original in the 1950s.
Reagan drew in a deep breath as she seemed to be absorbing the ambiance surrounding her. A sensual smile slowly curved her lips, and Rafe’s heart skipped a beat. She has no idea how beautiful she is, and that makes her even more attractive.