Page 72 of Black Light: Cured

“In this humidity? Are you crazy? Not only will my hair get windblown, it’ll puff up so fast it will

probably block your ability to drive.”

Once more, a mischievous edge curls up the edges of his lips as he stares down at me. “I guess

I’ll have to wait and find out when I put the top down on the way to my house then. Personally, I want

to see just how wild you can get.”

So he does intend to ravish me later, after the date. Will he let me come this time? Or will tonight

be a continuation of the punishment that was cut short last night?

Gripping the hem of my dress, I stare out the window as we race down D.C.’s roads and

highways, exhilaration flooding my system. Lights whiz by us, brightening the interior for a moment

before plunging us back into the shadows. I glance up at Master Aiden, watching the play of light over

his face as I imagine those lips back down between my legs.

Maybe if I’m good for him, if I do everything he tells me to do, he’ll let me get off. I’ve always

been the good girl type, but I’ll have to figure out how to be extra good for him. My sanity depends on

it.

All too soon, he pulls up to valet parking at the Park Hyatt, dashing any hopes of us going straight

to his house to devour each other. I’ve heard of the restaurant here, The Blue Duck Tavern, and have

always wanted to try it, but haven’t wanted to part with the money.

As the attendant opens the door to help me out, Master Aiden leans over, his breath hot against my

ear. “You are mine for the night, understand me? No one else is going to touch you. Only me. You will

sit there with your hands in your lap like a good girl until I come over there and help you out of the

car. Anytime you’re with me in my vehicle, that’s the way it’s going to be. Any objections?”

My brain melts at his possessive words and the only thing I manage to say is, “No, sir. No

objections.”

Once he’s at my door, Master Aiden’s warm fingers grasp mine as he helps me out of the car. With

a slight smirk, he tosses his keys over to the attendant while he stares deep into my eyes.

“Will you be staying the night, sir?”

“Yes, we have a reservation,” he answers.

“Very good, sir.”

He’s already planning on us spending the night? But I didn’t pack anything! I’m not prepared. For

some reason, this feels far more intimate than just crashing at his place. When he walks back over to