Love In Handcuffs: The Secret Billionaire (Part One) (BDSM And Domination Erotic Romance Novelette) Read Online Free Page B

And then what would the last 20 years of my life have amounted to?
     
    Whether it was the walking, the incredible sex, or the sea air, as the older folks called it, eventually we both agreed that we were starving. Michael led me into a private restaurant onboard, and I fought against the sensation that I was underdressed. He must have noticed my moment of discomfort, because he leaned in and whispered, “Don’t worry; there are plenty of women who are more dressed down than you in here.” I glanced around and saw that it was true; there were some women in the designer equivalent of a nice shirt and jeans. My linen skirt-suit and heels was certainly not out of place in the tiny, intimate dining room.
     
    Michael took the lead in ordering for us, and I tried not to laugh at the fact that the whole situation was more than a little like Pretty Woman . While I had taken French in high school, it had been years since I had cracked open a textbook, and there weren’t very many opportunities for me to practice the language after about my second year in college. My Spanish was much better, thankfully. The maître d’ brought us each aperitifs, a negroni cocktail and tiny one-bite canapés. I wondered briefly what I would have been eating if I hadn’t taken up with Michael; my stateroom would have let me into one of the nicer restaurants on board, but nothing so personalized, so deeply civil, as this place. There couldn’t be more than two dozen diners in the room, occupying tables with crisp white cloths, real silverware laid, crystal glasses, and low music floating through the air. Michael and I continued to chat through dinner; talking about our favorite films and music through the salad, discussing places we wanted to travel with the soup.
     
    Course after course of food was brought to us, all perfectly seasoned and prepared, and I was torn between my enjoyment of the flavors and textures passing my lips and my fascination with Michael’s opinions about everything. Towards the end of the meal, he was critiquing the others in the dining room, some of whom he knew personally, and telling me tidbits of corporate or personal gossip. “When you have the chance to, take a look at the woman with the old man on my right,” Michael said, gesturing subtly to a couple a few tables away. I pretended to be looking around the dining room as a whole and spotted the couple he was referring to. I watched them as I took a long sip of wine. “The woman he’s here with is a Dutch prostitute. He has her on a retainer of sorts.” I tried not to choke on my wine at the revelation, and caught sight of Michael smiling.
     
    “She must be something,” I commented, setting down my wineglass. Michael nodded, the smile still playing at the corners of his lips. I considered that, apart from the man being so old, being a companion for events like this might not be that bad. Then I got another glance at the man in question. He wasn’t completely ugly, but he didn’t seem to be the kind to take very good care of himself, either; apart from dressing well, he was running gradually too fat, and there was a puffy look about his face that looked like alcoholism. I wondered if he was even able to put the prostitute to her intended use. “She’s earning every penny.” Michael chuckled, pouring more wine for me.
     
    Between the rich food and the copious alcohol in my system, by the time we finished dessert, my head was spinning. We stepped out onto the deck again and Michael lit a cigarette for me, though he didn’t smoke himself. The night was pitch dark around the bright lights of the ship, the ocean and sky melding together. I smoked my cigarette slowly, feeling Michael’s presence close to me all over my body; every shift of his clothing, every movement of his hand or foot, was like a pressure against my nerves in the best possible way. “We could go back up to my room,” Michael suggested quietly, his hand going to my hip. I could feel the