Free Owning Wednesday by Annabel Joseph Page A

with you and marry you, and we’ll live happily ever after.”
     
    She made a strangled sound. “I don’t know. This isn’t a fairy tale.”
     
    “Isn’t it? You’re not a princess, and I’m not your prince?”
     
    “I don’t know yet.”
     
    He sighed and sat up on the side of her bed. “I don’t want to go. I don’t want you to disappear on me.”
     
    “Disappear? You know where I work.”
     
    “I want to have times, regular times, to see you. Nights that are mine, that I can look forward to.”
     
    The softness was gone. He was giving orders. She sighed, watching him stand and move away from her. “I can’t do that. Not yet.”
     
    He scowled at her as he dressed. “Why the hell not?”
     
    She toyed with the shreds of sheets next to her. She was untied, free, but for how long? Not long at all, it seemed, if he had his way. His eyes were stormy, and his mouth was set in a stubborn line. She wasn’t free at all, and it grated on her suddenly.
     
    “Can I just call you?”
     
    “No. I want to set something up now. Dinner, movie, whatever you want. How about Wednesday, Wednesday?”
     
    “Wednesday is okay with me. Dinner…I guess…if you want.”
     
    “Yes, I want,” he said. “I’ll pick you up at seven. Don’t wear any panties under your dress.”

Chapter Five
     
     
     
    It was six thirty on Wednesday night, and Wednesday was preparing herself to see her lover. She’d plucked, waxed, soaked, showered, and perfumed her body to his standing specifications. Then she put on the lingerie, sheer and sleek. The push-up bra, the stockings, but no panties, not tonight. She would need a dress, though, for dinner with Daniel. She chose the style of dress he seemed to like best—sweet and provocative in an innocent-schoolgirl kind of way.
     
    The more things changed, the more they stayed the same, she thought. Her slow preparations felt warm and familiar, like putting on a favorite coat finally back in season. As she sat to apply her makeup, her mind wandered in endless circles around Daniel, always Daniel. He’d called her earlier to remind her he would be picking her up at seven, as if she could possibly have forgotten. She had thought of little else, honestly, since he’d left on Sunday. Had she wanted time away from him to think? She’d had enough time. She wanted him now.
     
    His voice on the phone had set her trembling, so deep and resonant, so firm. “ Have you been a good girl since I saw you last ?”
     
    “ I’ve tried to be, Daniel. But I’ve probably been a bit naughty .”
     
    He had laughed then, and there had been promise and fondness in that laugh. Vincent had laughed at her on many occasions, but not very often in a nice way, more often in a way that was cruel. She had laughed, truly laughed, with Daniel many times already, and she smiled even now, waiting for his knock.
     
    He arrived right on time, him and his impeccable manners. As she undid the chain and lock, she remembered standing there, pressed against the wall, his hands all over her. He’d controlled her, taken her. Made her his. He had done it right there beside the door less than a week ago. She tried not to look too giddy when she opened the door. Her heart hammered from the way he looked at her.
     
    God, he was as gorgeous as ever, dressed in slacks and a gray cashmere sweater she wanted to rub against like a cat, in no small measure because it was tight enough to show off his muscles. His muscles, God. His arms, his shoulders, his rock-hard abs. She didn’t dare look lower, lest she lose it completely.
     
    Get a grip, Wednesday.
     
    “Are you ready to go?” he asked, dragging his gaze from her décolletage.
     
    “Yes.” She wondered if later they’d go to his place or return here. One or the other—it really didn’t matter to her as long as he was there.
     
    He drove her across town to a wonderful obscure jazz bar, and they fed each other tapas dishes over glass after glass of wine.