Текст книги "Wicked for You"
Автор книги: Shayla Black
сообщить о нарушении
Текущая страница: 6 (всего у книги 23 страниц)
She’d suspected as much.
Together, they grabbed pans from the ceiling and wiped them out with clean dish towels while Mystery filled him in on everything she’d found upstairs. He looked pleased.
Within minutes, they were shoveling in beans and soup, then washing it down with the bottled water. As they did, Axel heated the well water from his buckets in two big pots. He ate more than a few cans, shoveling food in at a rate that amazed her. Where did he put all the calories? After a can of stew and half a can of green beans, Mystery was stuffed.
As the water in the pots began boiling, he carried one across the room. “Can you lug that other bucket of water upstairs?”
Mystery retrieved it from its resting spot near the back door. It seemed to weigh a hundred pounds, and she grabbed it with both hands. “Probably. What are we doing with this?”
“Getting you clean.”
“Like . . . in the bathtub?”
“Originally, I was going to suggest sponge baths in the kitchen, but since you found an actual bathtub, lead the way.” He gestured to her with a nod of his head.
For that, she’d carry this bucket up a mountain. The muscles of her shoulders strained, and the brittle plastic of the handle threatened to break, but she kept on, leading him in the shadowy dark to the bedroom, then the small bathroom beyond.
He set the bucket on the floor behind her. “Stay here. I’ll bring one of the lanterns.”
Mystery groped her way to the old tub and shivered in the dark. It wasn’t cold but the air around her felt a bit creepy. She supposed this was known as a ghost town for a reason. History lingered, and she almost felt as if she could close her eyes and picture the people who had once stayed here, when this mining town had been in its heyday.
Axel returned a moment later, shedding soft, golden light on the situation. He set one of the lanterns in the little pedestal sink and gripped the other as he edged past her to shove the old rubber stopper in the drain. After, he dumped the bucket of hot water inside the tub. Steam rose in a billowing cloud, fogging up the old mirror hanging in its wooden frame above the sink. Mystery looked at herself and nearly shrieked. She didn’t look anything like the cool, sophisticated girl who’d gone out for a night on the town a few days ago. Now she looked bedraggled and filthy . . . and haunted, as if she’d seen more of the seedy underbelly of life than she’d been ready for.
She managed to bite her tongue, then catalog what she needed to do to get clean. At least the dirt on her cheeks and her rat’s-nest hairdo would be gone soon. As for the emotional turmoil from her ordeal, she couldn’t do anything about that now so she locked it away in a mental box for later.
“Put your hand in the tub,” Axel instructed. “Too hot for you?”
Mystery dipped her fingers in. Together, they worked to add some of the cool water from the bucket she’d brought upstairs until the temperature felt just right. The tub didn’t even fill halfway, but she could work with it.
“You’ll rinse with the rest of this water.” He pointed to the bucket. “Let me see if I can find one more thing . . .” He left the little room and after opening and closing some doors and drawers, he returned with a blessedly clean and big towel. “Here you go. When you’re out, I’ll do my thing. Until then, I’ll keep guard in the hall, just in case unexpected company comes.”
Then he closed the door behind him, leaving her alone with the glow of the lantern. Mystery stripped and stepped into the tub. Just like heaven . . . She shampooed her hair twice, then soaped down and shaved, rinsing with the final bucket of icy water. She was shivering as she stepped out, but she was blissfully clean.
She dried off, tossed on some of the clothes she’d seen in the dresser, braided her hair over one shoulder, brushed her teeth—and felt incredibly human again. When she emerged from the bedroom, Axel stood in the hall with a pan of steaming water and another bucket from the well.
“You done?”
“Yeah. I found soap, shampoo, clean toothbrushes, a comb . . . It’s all in there. Do you need anything else?”
“Good job.” He slid past her with the pan of hot water.
She dragged in the cold after him. “We make a good team.”
Mystery cringed the second the words left her mouth. Ugh, that sounded stupid. Axel knew how to survive. She’d just done her best to keep up and follow his directions.
“Sure,” he tossed back.
But he didn’t mean it.
“Here’s your cold water,” she blurted, bucket in hand.
With a nod, he stopped up the tub, then turned to her like he was waiting for her to shut the door so he could get started. And there she stood, gaping at him like an idiot. Awesome.
In the hallway, she heard water sloshing, imagined him taking off his shirt, his boots, his pants . . . Did he go commando? Was he big all over?
Mystery’s breath caught, and she pushed away from the wall, heading downstairs. Mooning over him was totally embarrassing, yet she couldn’t seem to stop. Everything about him appealed to her. Yes, he was handsome, but that didn’t impress her. He was smart and funny, of course, but she’d met guys like that before, too. What made Axel so special was that, on top of his other qualities, he protected. He cared. He’d made sure she ate, drank, covered her feet, kept her face from burning. Hell, he’d even given her a place to pillow her head on his chest. Okay, so that might be part of his job, but he could have been an ass about it. He could have treated her like a thorn in his side or like a kid. Instead, he’d encouraged her, talked to her, actually listened.
He was special. With civilization and the bad guys so close, Mystery wasn’t under any illusion; they’d either be rescued or dead by tomorrow. Tonight was it.
Downstairs, she rifled around behind the bar and found an unopened bottle of tequila and a shaker of salt. Not her first drink of choice, but better than nothing. She set them out, then selected a glass from the tray and waited.
Axel emerged a few minutes later with a towel wrapped around his waist. He carried his clean, dripping clothes in one hand, a lantern in the other. Mystery nearly swallowed her tongue.
Muscles covered his enormous chest in slabs. His wide shoulders bulged. The ridges of his abs led toward narrow hips with the beginnings of a treasure trail visible just above the towel. Then he turned for the kitchen, and she drank in the view from the back. More muscles everywhere. Shoulders, triceps, upper back, lining his spine. Beneath the towel, Axel clearly had a really fine ass. Holy crap . . .
He emerged from the kitchen a moment later with his lantern and sidled up to the bar beside her, smelling of soap and toothpaste and something so manly it nearly dropped her to her knees. “I hung my clean clothes from the hooks above the kitchen sink, where the pots were. Hopefully, they’ll dry soon. I didn’t see anything of yours worth washing except the bra and panties. They’re drying, too.”
Mystery’s eyes flew wide. He’d washed her undergarments, the expensive French variety she’d worn to the club that night in case she got lucky? The lacy, silky gray sheer panties and matching wisp of a bra? Heat rushed up her face.
“Thanks,” she managed to bluster out. “They’ll be good in a few hours, I guess.”
He nodded, then directed his attention to the bottle. “You found tequila, huh? Legally, you’re too young to drink.”
“Do you think I’ve never been drunk?” She slanted him a stare that begged him to get real.
“Oh, I know you have. Mystery Grace Mullins, age nineteen. Attended Beverly Hills High, class rank one hundred three out of six forty two. Accepted to USC with an undeclared major, but you dropped out after a semester. The apple of your Oscar-winning father’s eye and his only child with his late wife, Julia, whose homicide remains unsolved over a decade and a half later. Listed as one of the most beautiful celebrity kids, you’ve got a reputation as a wild child, but I think that’s overrated. Because you no longer have your mother and your father is busy, you’d rather have attention than a party. That explains why you let yourself be arrested at fifteen for joyriding with your then-boyfriend, and why you keep sneaking into bars. You have a lot of friends, none terribly close. You spend most of your time with your books and computer. You’re not sure what you want to do with your life, and the last few days have been more ‘adventure’ than you bargained for.”
God, with every word, he stripped her bare, reducing her life to a few lines that, even to her, sounded pathetic. How had he realized so quickly that she’d been trying for years to get her father’s attention? She loved him more than anyone . . . but sometimes she resented how much Hollywood demanded of him and how little he had left for her.
“Well, you have me all figured out,” she quipped and poured a shot of tequila. “Congrats.”
She licked her hand, shook the salt, and sucked it off, then downed the booze. It burned her throat, and she missed the lime to cut through that. Her eyes watered, but she refused to choke and look like an amateur. This wasn’t her first rodeo, after all.
He took the bottle and salt, then followed her lead, downing the shot in one quick toss. “I didn’t mean to upset you. Just pointing out that I’m not a total stranger, even if it feels that way sometimes.”
Blue eyes could seem so cold sometimes, but never his. They held a warmth, a humor, an understanding that drew her. Yes, she was stupidly crushing on him and had been since shortly after he’d rescued her. Was anything so wrong with something happening between them? They were both adults.
Mystery poured another shot, her stare meeting his as she licked the back of her hand slowly. He drew in a sharp breath, his gaze fixed on her. Those blue eyes darkened. Good, she had his attention. Her body sizzled hot. As she poured the salt, the thought made her tingle all over.
She tongued off the tart sprinkles, then knocked back the tequila. His stare clung to her mouth as she swallowed and licked her lips. He didn’t even blink as she set the shot glass on the bar. His gaze followed her hand, then landed on the slope of her breasts under the overlarge shirt.
The tingle inside her became full-fledged arousal.
The warmth of the booze spread through her, making her mellow and a bit hazy. She leaned forward, bracing her elbows on the bar and wondered if he could see down the front of the large, slightly gaping tee enough to get a peek at her cleavage.
“So Troy-who-goes-by-Axel from Tennessee, where do you live when you’re between missions or whatever?”
“Dallas.” He grabbed the bottle again. This time, he drank straight from it, then reached for the cap and began screwing it on.
“Give it back! I wasn’t done with that.”
“Yeah, you are. I can’t drink any more if I’m going to stay alert, and we have to cut out of here in a few hours, so you don’t need the dehydration or the hangover. We’ve still got about eight miles to walk.”
“I’ll be fine. I can hold a little more liquor than that before I feel it.”
His face lost all hint of friendly. “I said you’re done.”
She sent him an annoyed tsk. “You’re not my father, you know.”
“I’m fully aware of that.”
She narrowed her eyes at him. “You’re not my boyfriend, either.”
“I am not. If I were, I’d be taking you over my knee about now.”
Mystery gaped at him. “Y-you’d spank me?”
“Yep,” he answered without pause or apology. “Do you understand what I’m saying, little girl?”
She only had the murkiest idea what he meant, but no way would she admit that. She’d heard of men who liked to tie women down and sensually torture them. In fact, her father had been given a script for a thriller about a sexual Dominant accused of murdering his sub with a huge twist at the end, but he’d declined the film. The whole BDSM scene had sounded shadowy and kinky to her . . . but admittedly intriguing. What would it be like to turn herself entirely over to a man like Axel? He’d already earned her trust, so she knew he wouldn’t do anything to truly risk or hurt her. The idea of being his singular focus really turned her on, in fact.
“I know what you’re saying.” Her voice shook as the image of her tied to his bed while he loomed over her, strumming her naked body with his big fingers, played in her head.
“Then you understand that I’d curb and punish self-destructive behavior. But being your Dom isn’t my role. Being your rescuer is. I intend to get you home to your father in one piece—without you being wasted.”
“It was just a drink,” she objected.
“A potent one. With so little food in your belly and so much exposure to the sun, your system will be more susceptible to the alcohol.” He grabbed her chin and brought her face close. “Your eyes are a bit unfocused and dilated. You’re already half drunk.”
So what if she was? “For the first time since we left that run-down shack, I’m not terrified out of my mind. Thanks for being a buzzkill.”
He crossed his arms over his huge chest and gave her a disapproving glare. It crawled up her back and ignited her temper. But another part of her realized that it also lit the fuse on her arousal. If I grab the bottle and drink from it again, what will he do? The question whispered through her head as if the devil sitting on her shoulder prodded her.
“Booze isn’t the way to escape your fear,” he pointed out, his voice deep and firm.
Mystery shivered at his tone. God, she wanted to hear more of that—a whole lot more as he pumped his big cock inside her and made her scream.
The devil on her shoulder poked her again. She grabbed the bottle and stepped out of his reach, staring at him defiantly as she unscrewed the cap and poured a big gulp into her mouth.
She swallowed and smacked her lips. “Now what are you going to do, big man?”
For a long moment, he did nothing but stare at her as if she’d made some grievous error she would come to deeply regret. Slowly, he uncrossed his arms, then sighed, sizing her up like an animal considering its prey, waiting for the perfect moment to pounce.
Her heart pounded. Her nipples beaded. Her whole body lit up. Not once had any of the admittedly stupid string of boyfriends she’d had made her feel this much like a woman. Her breathing speeded up. She swayed a bit closer. Would he touch her? Would he lay his lips over hers and claim her mouth before he delved into her body?
She exhaled a ragged little sigh. “Axel . . .”
Her whispered entreaty put him in motion. His eyes went dark as he skirted the bar, sidled closer—and kept coming at her.
A dizzying wave of desire swept through her as he reached for her. His fingers brushed her waist. She swayed. Her back hit the wall. She gasped. He pinned her with his big body, his hands braced on either side of her head. Heat seeped into her. His erection pressed hard and massive into her belly. She closed her eyes, her head falling back as she offered him her vulnerable throat.
“Princess . . .” he murmured low and soft in her ear.
Her entire body trembled. “Yes.”
When he didn’t say anything right away, she opened her eyes to find him staring at her. He hovered right over her, his face so close. Lust ripped across his expression, darkening his eyes, firming his lips. She couldn’t wait to feel him . . .
“Yes.” Mystery positioned her lips just under his.
But he didn’t kiss her.
Instead, he swallowed hard, body taut. His nostrils flared. He clenched his jaw. “Wait here.”
He turned on his heel and left the bar, marched through the kitchen, and out the back door.
Wait? If he was a Dom, maybe he needed rope or some way to restrain her. Or maybe he looked for some other instrument with which to give her pleasure or pain. The thought made her breathless.
Axel slammed back in a moment later, returning to the bar with a bucket in his hand. She frowned. What the hell?
After he set it on the floor beside him, he returned to cage her body against the wall with his own. If anything, his face loomed closer, his lips an aching breath away. Mystery tried to inch closer and seal her lips over his. Before she could even blink, he grabbed her wrists and held her against the wall. She gripped the neck of the bottle, kind of wishing he’d pour it all over her body and lick it off.
“You’re saying yes?” he asked in a rough whisper.
“Yes.”
“Whatever I want?”
To all the erotic ways he could take her currently spinning in her head? “Yes.”
He grabbed the bottle from her grip and took a step back. “I’m saying no, Mystery.” Before she could sputter a reply, he turned the bottle upside down and poured the tequila into the bucket, onto a mound of dirt he’d scooped inside.
“What the hell are you doing?” she screeched.
Axel shook the bottle a couple of times to make sure every last drop emptied out. “No, Mystery. I don’t think you’ve heard that word enough in your life. No, you cannot get wasted. No, you cannot check out when you’re in the middle of danger. And no, you cannot have sex with me just because you want it.”
He dumped the empty bottle into the bucket and turned his back on her.
Shock pelted her, then quickly morphed to anger. She charged after him. When he whirled to face her, she poked a finger into his steely chest. “You wanted me. I felt it.” She stared pointedly at his tented towel. “I still see it.”
He stiffened. “I’m just a man. You’re a pretty girl. But I don’t need to fuck someone every time I have an itch to scratch. Do you?”
“No. I just thought—”
“I was a novelty? I’d thank my lucky stars that you’d grant me use of your famous pussy for an hour or two so you could wrap me around your little finger?”
“No!” That he’d even imagined she felt that way horrified her.
He narrowed his eyes, and she felt chastened. “Then what did you think, girl?”
Tears welled. Her mouth turned down, and she knew an ugly cry was coming. She couldn’t stop it to save her life. “That I liked you and wanted you. I hoped you liked and wanted me, too.”
Something in his face softened, but his stance didn’t. “I like you just fine. You’re easy to talk to. You learn fast. You’ve got backbone and a tender heart—an appealing combination.”
“Then why—”
“You need to finish growing up. And you can’t handle what I’d demand from you in bed, especially after the trauma you’ve just been through. Besides, you’re too damn young for sex.”
“I’m not fucking five. I’m a legal adult.”
“So you think that means you should exercise your right to spread your legs?”
“You don’t have to be an ass about it.” She swiped away the unwanted tears scalding her cheeks. “What’s your hang-up, anyway? It’s not like I’m a virgin.”
His expression became a fortress, the windows to his soul slamming shut and cutting her off from his every thought. “So you think I should corrupt you more?” He raised a brow at her. “The absence of a hymen doesn’t make you a woman. We’re done here. Take your lantern, get in bed, and try to sleep.”
With just a few sentences, he’d turned her down cold, embarrassed the hell out of her, and dismissed her utterly. A part of her wanted to call him names, argue and rail. The other part felt too humiliated and just wanted to escape.
But she couldn’t resist a parting shot. “Fine. Just don’t talk to me anymore. Don’t act nice or pretend you give a shit. Just do what my father paid you to do and get me home.”
Chapter Six
Present day
EARTH to Elise.” Axel snapped his fingers.
His words didn’t jar her back to the present, but the sharp sound following did. Mystery started and blinked at him. Crap, how long had she been drifting into the past?
“Sorry. I . . .” What did she say now? She didn’t really have an excuse other than a trip down memory lane in which he’d been the star. Not that she could tell him that. He’d turned her down flat once. Despite their promising exchange at the bar, Mystery feared he’d do it again.
“You having second thoughts?”
“No.” Hell no. “Last I recall, I asked you if we could hit your bedroom and you could lose some clothes.”
“We were kissing. You in some hurry?”
He couldn’t begin to imagine how done she was waiting for him. Just being in the same room with him excited her beyond belief—unlike the last time they’d shared space.
After he’d rejected her in the old hotel’s bar, Mystery had felt two inches tall. She didn’t think he’d intended to hurt her feelings as much as he’d wanted to put distance between them. In retrospect, she would have turned herself down, too. She’d been a stupid kid playing adult games. And she hadn’t been in the right mind-set for sex. He’d known that. But his rebuff had dented her pride and wounded her heart. She’d stomped up the stairs to bed, expecting to spend a few hours alone to cry out her confusion and heartache. Instead, he’d followed right behind her and plopped himself onto the chair in the corner, then spread his big-ass gun across his lap.
She’d been so pissed off that he’d denied her the privacy of a good cry.
A couple of hours later, he’d awakened her fully dressed. He’d handed her the bra and panties he’d washed for her and instructed her to get her clothes on. Ten minutes later, they’d been walking through the desert, lit only by the moonlight, neither saying a word.
As dawn broke, they’d walked into Keeler and were spotted by an elderly man, who kindly let them borrow his phone. Fifteen minutes later, the Inyo County Sheriff’s Department showed up, sirens blaring, and took her back to her father. She hadn’t seen Axel much during questioning, just long enough for him to ask her to keep his name out of the press and to wish her well.
A media circus ensued afterward. Her picture had been plastered everywhere. She’d hidden in her house for weeks, waiting for the frenzy to die down. Her father had hired her a publicist and an agent . . . then drowned himself in a new starlet. She’d been approached to write her story for millions of dollars by publishers and TV producers. Mystery had refused them. She didn’t want to recount for the world how stupid she’d been.
And she’d never heard from Axel again.
The other dark cloud hanging over her memory? Her abduction had never been solved. Her captor had been identified as a thug for hire with a record a mile long, but they’d never managed to figure out who had paid him to kidnap her or why. Her father had freaked out, convinced that his celebrity had been to blame, that someone wanting to extort money or kick-start their fifteen minutes of fame had taken her. In the absence of a better theory, it made sense. He’d insisted they move elsewhere, and had been prepping to shoot a film in London. Mystery had tagged along, and they’d never left.
In the ensuing six and a half years, she’d put the incident behind her, stopped having nightmares, and managed to move forward again. She’d finished university, three cozy mysteries with a hip flair, the most recent of which would be published in June. She’d learned self-defense, taken up yoga, and begun to live with purpose. She’d succeeded at everything she attempted—except having a full love life.
She’d never, ever been able to forget Axel or stop wondering what if things had been different . . .
“I might be in a bit of a hurry,” she admitted, glancing at Axel from beneath her lashes. “But I suspect you’ll be worth the wait.”
He grinned, flashing his dimples. “You’re an interesting little flirt.”
Interesting? Mystery wasn’t sure if that was a rebuke or a compliment. “Surely you didn’t bring me here simply to figure me out.”
“Maybe I did. You intrigue me.” He cocked his head. “And you look somewhat familiar.”
Fear struck to the bottom of her heart, but she plastered on her best poker face and tried to laugh it off. “You don’t have to feed me a pick-up line. I’m already here.”
Before he could respond, she wriggled off the counter and landed on her feet, brushing up against him. She knew Axel preferred to be in charge, but damn it, she couldn’t give him too much time to think. And she didn’t want to wait anymore.
Mystery reached for the hem of her tank top, then pulled it over her head in one fluid move. As she flung the cotton onto the counter behind her, she heard him suck in a sharp breath and found him staring at her plump mounds spilling from her underwire lingerie.
Yeah, if you like this lacy black bra, wait until you see the matching thong.
“You look . . . edible.”
If that was true, why wouldn’t he take a bite out of her? She cupped her breasts in offering and leaned closer. Instead of grabbing her by the hand and hauling her to his bedroom to promptly strip her down and plunge inside her, he grabbed her shoulders and drilled his stare into her.
“I’m going to take you so hard, baby. But in my time and in my way. Come with me. Leave your shirt there.”
When he clasped her hand and hauled her out of the kitchen, she wondered where they were headed. It didn’t take long before she realized he really did want to cuddle on the couch. He sat on a sleek gray sectional and pulled her into his lap. On the bright side, she felt his very insistent erection against her hip. The huge drawback? He wanted to talk. The longer they chatted, the more time he had to figure out who she truly was.
“Call me old-fashioned, but I like to know a little something about a woman before we share skin.”
“Not much to say. I’m boring unless I’m horizontal.”
He tossed his head back and laughed. “Somehow, I doubt that. And the more you push me, the more I’m going to drag this out. So give over and tell me all about you.”
Mystery believed him. He hadn’t hopped into bed with her simply because he could years ago. Apparently, nothing had changed. “I’m twentysomething and single, educated, and tired of European men. I’m here on vacation and fascinated by you.”
“Why? You don’t know me.”
More than one flippant answer streamed through her head, but she’d been mostly stupid and impatient today. If she wanted him, she had to put a hold on her hormones and her heart. She had to use her damn head.
“You look . . . comfortable in your skin. You seem the sort of man who lives life robustly. You can relax, as you were when I saw you at the bar, drinking your ale. But you quickly caught on to my intent, and I like people with brains and wit. I can’t deny that I found you quite sexy. Does attraction require more explanation than that?”
He raised a brow at her as his hand slid down her waist, over her hip, caressed her thigh. Mystery didn’t feel just a shiver roll over her skin; his touch shook her whole body.
“I suppose not,” he admitted. “But you’ve given it more than a little thought.”
If he only knew . . .
“Why did you say yes?”
She probably shouldn’t ask because he’d start dissecting his reasons and replay their meet in his head. Who knew where that would take his thoughts? But she was too desperate for the answer to keep her mouth shut.
“I like a straightforward girl who can tell me what she wants but doesn’t always expect to get it. You intrigued me since you obviously didn’t belong in that bar and felt more than a bit of trepidation going in. But you put your big girl panties on and did it, anyway. I’m still not sure why, and your attempt to order wine made me smile. I haven’t been amused in a long time.”
She let out a slow breath. Intriguing and amusing she could handle. Him guessing her identity would make this whole evening go south. Mystery felt somewhat guilty for tricking him. He didn’t want her then, and if he knew who she was, she doubted he’d want her now. But she honestly didn’t know how else to move on with her life. She no longer had any taste for vain actors, party-hardy musicians, or “regular” but starstruck men. Mystery seemed completely stuck on Axel.
“I’d like the chance to amuse you more.” She leaned forward and layered her lips over his.
He let her, cupping her nape to bring her closer. He sank past her lips with a groan, his tongue seeking hers for a sensual slide as his palm found its way up her abdomen, then paused just below her breast. Soon—finally—Axel Dillon would actually be more intimate with her than a kiss. Mystery wanted to arch into his hand until he palmed her breast, but she knew he wouldn’t give her what she wanted simply because she wanted it. So she waited, hoping, unable to catch her breath. Even the thought of his touch made her light-headed.
Instead, he leaned back and stared into her face, as if trying to figure her out. No, as if trying to figure out who she was.
Time to distract him—fast.
She repositioned herself on his lap until she straddled him and pressed her sex against the ridge of his hard cock. Gyrating over his erection, she arched her back and thrust her breasts closer to his mouth. He braced his big hands around her waist and ground her onto his thick staff with a groan. As a thrill reverberated through her body, she reached behind her back and unclasped her bra. Her breasts bounced free, and she brushed one of her nipples across his lips.
“You’re pushing me,” he warned.
“I want you to see what I’m dying to give you.”
Axel took her face in his big hands. “You want to show me?”
She nodded too quickly, aware that she was making the same mistake she had more than once—throwing herself at him. But damn it, this man made her lose all self-control. “Please tell me you want to see me.”
“Oh, yeah. But we’re going to do this my way. Stand.”
Mystery wasn’t at all surprised when he took control. She’d expected it, hoped for it. Since he’d divulged the fact that he was Dominant, she’d done some reading and talking to people in the lifestyle. She probably only knew enough to be dangerous, but what she’d learned had prepared her to roll with his commands.
On shaking legs, she backed off his lap and rose to her feet in front of him, wearing her jeans and sandals and not much else.
“You listen well and you take direction nicely. Have you strolled down this path before?”
She knew he asked if she’d ever dabbled in BDSM. After the lies she’d already told him, she wanted to stick with as much of the truth as possible. “Not personally. I know something about it, though.”
He sat up straighter with a long, slow smile. “Looks like my afternoon just got more interesting. You wearing panties?”
