Текст книги "Finding Master Right"

Автор книги: Sparrow Beckett

сообщить о нарушении

Текущая страница: 4 (всего у книги 17 страниц)

Chapter 4

Rook stuffed his mouth with cotton candy, his black hair ruffling in the breeze coming from the roller coaster. He looked more relaxed than Banner had seen him in ages. The fair had been a good plan. Maybe mixing candy with rides wasn’t the best idea, but it was a sad state of affairs when a kid’s big brother couldn’t be a bad influence.

And on the subject of bad influences . . . Banner’s mind drifted back to Kate and their deal, and he checked his phone.

Nothing. He was starting to wonder if she was actually going to show up tomorrow. He’d sent a list of his expectations earlier in the week, and she hadn’t responded. Ambrose had insisted he send only one text, but her silence was tying him in knots. Should he make backup plans so he wouldn’t be sitting around alone, like a dork, when she didn’t show?

“You need to find a nice girl and settle down and have a couple of kids,” Rook said. “That would make Mom happy.”

Silence fell between them for a moment. Making their mother happy was a subject Rook brought up a lot. Definitely not something a teenager should be so worried about. Wasn’t he supposed to be working hard to piss her off?

“Rook, it’s not our job to make other people happy. Mom hasn’t gotten over missing Dad yet, and until that happens nothing much will cheer her up. Not counseling and not pills, although they help. She needs to decide she wants to live again, and we can’t force her to feel that way. Not even with a grandchild.”

There were still days when she went to bed with “migraines” and didn’t get up again until the next morning. It was hard on all of them, but on Rook most of all. He had Banner and Meadow, but even siblings old enough to be parents weren’t a substitute for the real thing. At least Meadow lived with them and directed the household staff when need be, but she didn’t understand their little brother. He’d thought about moving the boy in with him, but a teenager living with a bachelor would be a lonely life.

“Besides, I’m not responsible enough to be a father. Girls usually run screaming from me. I won’t be getting married anytime soon.”

“Me neither.”

“You might get married sooner than I do.”

“Not unless they change the law.”

Banner pinched his cheek and Rook swatted him away. “In a few years I’m sure the law will have changed. If it hasn’t we’ll all drive to another state for the wedding.”

His brother was nodding, looking lost in thoughts too serious for a fourteen-year-old.

“Did you tell Mom yet?”

Rook pressed the toe of his Converse sneaker into the dirt. “She’s got enough to bring her down. She doesn’t need to deal with me coming out.”

He put his arm around Rook’s shoulder and squeezed. His brother leaned into him.

“Mom’s mental health isn’t your battle. Staying in the closet to protect her is sweet, but you deserve to be happy and out, if you want to be out.”

“You gave up your dream job to follow in Dad’s footsteps and rot out children’s teeth.” He shrugged. “I’ve had a selfless role model.”

Dreams. The thought brought Banner back to when he’d tried to make a living painting and selling his art. The starving artist thing had been great as he’d traveled through Europe, staying in hostels, but he wasn’t young anymore. Sure, he’d fallen in love with Sweden when he was there, and he’d hated leaving it to come home when his father’s health started waning, but he’d known he couldn’t do it forever.

“Sometimes I think you’re as sad as Mom.” The boy eyed him, then stared off into the distance. “You just hide it better.”

Banner grabbed the bag of cotton candy from Rook’s hand and untied it. He balled up the last two bites and shoved one into Rook’s mouth, then ate the other one.

“Shh. You’ve got your own things to worry about. Quit worrying about everyone else.”

Rook laughed around his mouthful of candy. He chewed, watching a rollercoaster as it swooped by, then turned back to Banner. “Meadow says I’m too sensitive, and that if I don’t toughen up I’ll never get a date.”

Banner winked at him. “Well, I guess it’s good that Dylan doesn’t like going out much.”

***

She was either late or not coming.

The time they’d agreed on had come and gone, and he was still entirely alone—other than the hard-on that had been nagging at him on and off all day.

There was a chance she was stuck in traffic. He checked his phone, but there was as much from her now as there’d been for the past few days. Nada. Maybe Janine had found someone for her, or maybe she’d come to her senses and realized messing around with Banner wasn’t a good idea.

Why had he let himself get so excited about a girl who wasn’t going to be permanent? Sure, he wanted to play with her, but there were plenty of other women who were willing to do that. Ones that were definitely submissive. Submissive was closer to slave than a vanilla girl was, right? So what was the big deal about training Kate?

In his studio, he tried to paint, but he was too tense to work. Instead, he headed down to the home theater.

He forced himself to sit on the couch and turn on the TV. He hated TV.

Flip, flip, flip.

Out of his peripheral vision, he caught sight of the T-shirt he was wearing. Suddenly, it annoyed him. He stalked off to his bedroom, slid open the doors to his walk-in closet, and rifled through the neatly folded shirts in their cubbies. When he found the one he wanted, he yanked the other one off over his head.

Calm the fuck down.

The doorbell rang. He froze. If it had been Ambrose coming to snoop, he’d have walked right in. The maid wouldn’t have bothered with doorbells either.

With unhurried movements, he headed for the door, pulling on his shirt as he went. Irritation and uncertainty were crowding him, but he slowed his breathing and tried to pretend none of this mattered to him.

He opened the door, and there she was, in all of her innocent, vanilla glory.

Kate looked up at him, her eyes wide and full of trepidation.

“Come in, Kate. I was expecting you twenty minutes ago.”

She stepped cautiously across the threshold, craning her head. “This is your house?”

“Yes.”

“It looks like a museum.”

“It’s old.” Forget this polite shit. “Why are you late?”

Kate’s smile trembled and fell away. “I-I’m sorry. I was going to say I got lost, or something, but I don’t want to start today out with a lie.” She bit her lip and looked down at her shoes. “I was scared. I didn’t sleep at all last night, and I didn’t have clothes like what you wanted me to wear, so I had to go shopping, but it took forever to find what I wanted.” Her voice quavered through the last of it.

“Shh. Come in.” He felt like an ass. Why had he assumed she was playing a game with him? He’d dated a few subs who had tried head games with him, but she didn’t seem the type. He was too eager for this, and all the waiting and wondering had made him grumpy. Showing up at all was pretty ballsy of her.

She stepped inside, and he closed and locked the door behind her, even though he didn’t usually bother. It would tell Ambrose he didn’t want to be disturbed, at least.

“Take off your shoes and put them by the door.”

“My shoes?”

“And socks.”

Although she quirked a brow at him, she still complied. Some Doms insisted their women wear heels for them, but he felt that bare feet set a better tone. Barefoot submissives tended to remember their place, even if the rest of their clothing stayed on.

“Would you like a soda? Water?”

“Nothing for now, thanks.”

Back to small talk. He hated small talk. Small talk made him feel as if he were at work.

“The house was built in the 1880’s. I’m having it slowly restored. The company doing it specializes in this kind of thing.”

Kate walked across the foyer and turned back to look at the stained-glass window high above the door, then followed the light filtering through it to the pattern it made on the pale marble flooring.

“Original?” She pointed at the window.

“Yes. The artist knew what he was doing, luckily. I’m glad, because I doubt I could commission something so beautiful now.”

“It’s Saint George?”

“I assume so, because of the dragon.”

She stood and stared at it, and while her eyes were busy, Banner looked her over. Yoga pants, T-shirt. Those she’d done. Lines under her clothes betrayed the bra and panties she’d worn despite his instructions not to, plus her hair was in a ponytail when he’d told her to wear it loose. It was pulled back so tightly from her face that it must have made her scalp ache. She looked like a sadistic primary school teacher on her way to her Saturday Pilates class.

However, the way the yoga pants clung to her perfect ass was sinful. Whoever had dreamed up yoga pants must have used Kate’s ass as inspiration.

So, how did one go about disciplining a vanilla girl who said she wanted to be submissive but dug in her heels?

“Do you need a few minutes to finish getting ready?” Banner let his gaze meet hers and narrowed his eyes slightly.

A pink tinge spread across her cheeks, and she averted her gaze. “Do I have to? I mean, I almost didn’t come because of that. Telling a person how to dress is kind of creepy. I’m a grown woman. I should be able to dress the way I like.”

“Creepy? You better get used to it if you really want a Dom. They’ll expect you to follow their orders.”

She nodded carefully, but her face betrayed her trepidation. “I’m trying to understand it all, but some parts seem so weird.” Chuckling, she added, “Other parts are totally hot.”

He understood where she was coming from, but she’d have to learn to give in a little. Sometimes being a submissive was about stepping out of your comfort zone. That was something he’d have to explain as they went. For now, baby steps.

He led her through the house. Occasionally, her whispering footsteps paused in his wake, and he waited while she gawked at the rooms or art that interested her before he continued on. Once she stopped to admire a landscape he’d painted years ago, but he didn’t tell her it was his work.

“You didn’t mention you were rich.”

“Does that make a difference?”

“No.”

Women always said that, but for some reason, with Kate it seemed true.

They arrived in the home theater room, which was cozy and soundproof, although noise probably wouldn’t be an issue today. He turned to face Kate, but because she’d been rubbernecking around the room, she hadn’t noticed he’d halted. She stopped too close. Only inches away, she tipped her head back to look at his face. Lips parted, eyes wide, she looked surprised they’d almost collided.

“Give me your BDSM checklist and the list of limits you have regarding your arrangement with me, then go finish getting ready in the bathroom across the hall.” He wondered if she’d obey, considering how reluctant she was when it came to other things.

She drew a stack of papers from her purse and handed them over but stayed rooted in place instead of heading across the hall.

“Do you need me to walk you there, Kate?”

She fidgeted. “But I don’t want to. It’s demeaning and disturbing.”

“Chances are your Dominant will tell you how to dress, at least sometimes. This will start getting you used to that idea. Is there a serious reason why you can’t comply? Is it a trigger for you?”

She shifted her weight from one leg to the other. “No, it’s just that I have trouble following instructions if I don’t have a reason. If it’s just that you’re a pervert, I’d prefer to know that now.”

“It’s not my payment for teaching you, no, if that’s what you’re asking. It’s been my experience that when submissives aren’t allowed to wear underthings it makes them feel more sensual and helps them get into a submissive frame of mind. As for your hair being loose, that’s just because I’m a pervert.”

A giggle escaped her before she sighed heavily and drew a pattern on the floor with her bare toe. The blue polish on her toenails was unexpected and adorable.

Patience wasn’t going to be as effective with Kate as reasoning with her might be. She was new and he’d have to cut her some slack—a lot more than he’d give a girl he was actually involved with.

“Let me put it this way to you, Kate . . . If giving this tiny bit of control to your Dom is too much for you, we might as well end this arrangement now. I can’t teach you anything if you’re balking at something this small.” He shrugged. “Maybe you’re not submissive at all, or maybe you’re not strong enough to hand control over to someone else. It’s not something everyone is capable of doing.”

Banner turned and walked to one of the room’s leather armchairs, then sat and began looking over the papers she’d filled out. If she refused to do this, he’d escort her to the door. It was true that he wanted her more than he’d wanted anyone in a long time, but this was going to be temporary at best. There was no way he’d let himself get any deeper into this if she wasn’t giving anything back. Admittedly, if he was just training her in the fundamentals of BDSM he’d go easier on her. However, if she was looking for a Dom, they had to find out if there was even a hint of submission in her first. If Kate just wanted to play at this, she’d picked the wrong man to indulge her.

He pretended not to watch her as she stood there staring at him. Eventually, she walked out of the room, and he heard the bathroom door click shut.

Teacher: one; difficult student: zero. Although gloating wasn’t his style, Banner permitted himself a small smile as he scanned the paper in his hand.

When he reached the bottom of the page, he whistled low. Other than the hard limits on her checklist, she was willing to consider any amount of contact between them, up to and including sex. Well, that was going to make training her much more interesting.

Scrubbing a hand over his face, he tried to think about maintaining a level of distance and concentrate on what she needed to learn.

Focus, man. Ignore your dick.

With iron will he pulled his gaze away from the words “up to and including sex” and flipped to the next page. At the top of the checklist was anal, beside which she’d drawn a shaky circle around the word “curious,” instead of circling a scaling number. Damn, an anal virgin? He groaned aloud, his cock now completely hard and bent at an awkward angle in his jeans.

He’d leave that for her real Dom to do, right? He was a decent man. He could resist the temptation. In his mind, he pretended she’d circled “hard limit,” but his cock remained unconvinced. Who had taught the damn thing to read?

Aw, hell. Their kinks lined up. She’d circled scaling numbers or the word “curious” beside all of his favorites and had marked “hard limit” beside all of the things that turned him off. Several items she’d left blank.

“I needed clarification on some of those, and after searching the Internet for figging I was too scared to look anything else up.” She stood by the doorway, looking at the floor. Her loose hair had fallen forward to obscure her features from his view, but the bits of her face he could see were crimson. “And there were other things where I didn’t know how I felt about them.”

“That’s fine. You knew more than I thought you did.”

“I called Janine a few times.”

He chuckled. “The things you left blank probably aren’t things we’ll explore together anyway. Come sit in the chair next to me so we can talk.”

She trailed over after ditching her purse by the door, and he managed not to be a complete pervert and ogle her breasts as they swayed free under her tight T-shirt.

“Do we have to talk about it? Can’t you just give me a safeword and take it from there?”

“Communication is important in BDSM. If I don’t know what you like, what you dislike, and what your triggers are, it’s hard for me to make our time together educational and pleasurable for you.” He felt as if he were giving a guest lecture at a college. He didn’t think he had a teaching fetish, but this was interesting.

“Well, how come you don’t have to give me your checklist? Knowing you know all that stuff about me now is embarrassing.”

“Don’t be embarrassed, Trouble. Our kinks line up a little too well, so don’t worry about me judging you. In the kink community, people are very accepting, even if you’re into things they aren’t.”

“Your kink is not my kink, but your kink is okay?”

“Exactly. See, you know things.”

“Well, Janine tells me things, and I tend to remember the parts that sound important.” She sat in the chair next to his, staring at the blank television screen. “I still can’t believe I actually showed up today. I’ve been trying to psych myself up all week, but in the back of my mind I thought I’d chicken out.”

Fear he understood. Some of his underlying tension melted away. Her eyes were still hidden mostly by hair, so he tucked a lock of it behind her ear. “So what made you get in your car and come over?”

“I told myself I was going to the gym until I was sitting in your driveway. Ringing the doorbell was one of the hardest things I’ve done in my life.”

“I respect that this is a struggle for you. It’s impressive that you came anyway. Hopefully it’ll help you answer some questions about yourself, if nothing else.” He flipped through her questionnaire again briefly then laid the papers aside. “This gives me enough information to work with for now. Do you have a safeword in mind?”

“I thought Masters didn’t do safewords.”

“I do. I watch carefully, too, though. With most people you can tell when they’re getting close to their limit. It’s never my intention to hurt someone past what they can bear. Leaving emotional scars isn’t one of my kinks.” He was a safe, sane, and consensual guy when it came to BDSM, but he knew some people who weren’t. They were generally the asshats who gave BDSM a bad name. Banner drummed his fingers on the arm of his chair once before he caught himself. A strong desire to move things along was making him impatient, but rushing her wouldn’t be fair. “Besides, you haven’t agreed to be my slave. But even if you did, with me you get a safeword.”

Shit. Had he really just implied she might agree to be his slave at some point? It was as though he’d left a huge yet hanging over them. Nothing like making the girl uncomfortable by laying his cards on the table.

“If I was eager to try being a slave, what would you do?”

He smiled, wondering if his metaphorical fangs were evident. “We would need to have a long discussion about what that meant to both of us, and we’d have to see whether we were suitable for each other.”

“So BDSM is all consensual, then?” Her eyebrows rose, as if she didn’t believe it.

“In the mainstream BDSM community, yes. It may not always feel that way to the slave, but in reality the option to walk away is always there.” He let some of the darkness within him show in his expression. “Of course there are people who live on the fringes of BDSM who blur the lines.”

“Do you blur the lines?”

Deliberately he paused, enjoying the hint of apprehension he saw in her face. Being a bastard was fun, but since she didn’t know him well, he wasn’t sure how seriously she’d take it.

“No. My slaves are free to leave me if that’s what they want.” The last few hadn’t really been slaves anyway, which had been frustrating for both parties.

“Have a lot of slaves chosen to leave you?”

“In the past few years I’ve ended relationships with a few women who told me they were slaves, but were actually submissives who thought slavery sounded dangerous and exciting. The reality wasn’t something they adjusted to very well.” Being asked to submit outside of the bedroom hadn’t gone over well. His old frustrations welled up, but dwelling on how difficult it was to find someone to suit him, someone who wanted what he wanted, didn’t fix the problem.

She turned to look at him, her eyes round. “So you’re strict?”

“Very.”

“Are you going to punish me a lot?” She wet her lips.

He could almost feel the smooth wooden handle of the tawse in his hand. Fuck. When he was around this girl his imagination was like live-streaming porn.

“That depends on if you’re a good girl or a bad girl.”

A small whimper escaped her, and the sound went straight to his groin.

“Do you like pain, Kate, or is it the idea of being punished?”

She took refuge in silence. Fair enough. She might not know yet.

“Should my safeword be long, so there’s no confusion?” Kate finally asked.

“It should be short and easy to remember. Something most people wouldn’t say in context.”

“Wombat?”

Banner chuckled. “Wombat? Will you remember that?”

“Yes, will you?”

“If you say any odd words while you’re with me, I’ll make sure you’re okay. I’ve had partners forget their safewords before and yell things like ‘tuna’ ‘cardigan’ ‘matchbox’ ‘ukulele.’ It gets the point across even if you don’t hit the right word.”

She laughed, a true, beautiful sound that thrilled the ear.

“Are you ready to start?”

“Yes, Sir.”

He quelled a shudder.

“Call me Banner for now, okay? You’re not mine, and every time you call me that it makes me a little crazy.”

“Crazy how?” Her lips parted, and he wished he could show her just how crazy.

“For a moment I forget you’re not mine, and I don’t think you want that.”

Kate nervously licked her dry lips. “Okay . . . Banner.” From her mouth, his name sounded oddly like a not-so-subtle Sir.

He threw a blanket on the floor in front of him. “Kneel there. We’ll see what you need to work on in terms of posture.”

Without hesitation, she folded herself into an attractive kneel on the small blanket. Her affect was a mixture of pride and self-consciousness. The graceful line of her neck begged for a collar.

“Good. Most Dominants will prefer you to kneel with your knees open and your hands turned upward on your thighs.”

“What do you prefer?”

“Knees open, unless there’s company. Hands palms down on the submissive’s thighs. I find it more aesthetically pleasing.”

Kate gathered her hair and put it behind her shoulder, then spread her knees and placed her hands palms down on her legs. The tilt of her head was challenging, so he took gentle hold of her jaw and waited until she went docile. Unable to resist, he let his fingertips brush her cheek before withdrawing his hand.

She blinked rapidly for a moment, then went very still. Her green eyes became soft and bottomless for a moment before regaining their usual alertness.

“Why did you hold my face like that?”

“You looked like you were challenging me. Some Doms love that, but many don’t. You have to learn what your Dom will tolerate and work within those limits.” He rhythmically rubbed a thumb over her chin, just to see if it would work again. Kate’s eyes went dreamy and she relaxed into the pose. It was like a magic button. He smiled. “Likewise, if a Dominant cares deeply for you, he might adjust what he expects from you in small ways.”

He slid his hand down to caress the side of her neck. The scoop neckline of her T-shirt tempted him to trace a finger over her collar bone. Her eyes fluttered shut, and her breathing slowed. A small shiver took her, and the peace in her expression arrested his attention.

“You look very calm, Kate,” he whispered, dragging the tip of his finger over the softness of her exposed flesh. “Do you like how this feels?”

“Yes, Banner,” she breathed.

“When you talk to Doms, you have to try to remember this feeling. This is what you want from them. If you stay focused on this headspace, you might find yourself less tempted to scare them off.”

The spell broke, and her eyelids snapped open. Her glare was eloquent. “So I always need to walk around feeling all dopey and stupid? If a Dom wants that from me, he needs to work for it. I’m not just going to automatically become a mindless sex doll every time a Dom ambles by, on the off chance he can get me into that headspace.”

Before he realized what he was doing, he’d buried his fist in her hair. She gasped but didn’t try to get away.

“Did I say you had to be a mindless sex doll?” he growled. “I said you need to remember what you like, so that you don’t lose track of what you’re after.”

Kate’s eyes had lost focus again, and she angled her face toward his as though she wanted him to kiss her. How was he supposed to teach her anything from an objective standpoint if she was accidentally pushing all of his buttons? He tightened his fist in her hair, and she moaned.

Fuck objective.

He pressed his forehead to hers and whispered, “If you keep challenging a Dom, eventually, you’ll get more than you bargained for. I’m supposed to be teaching you things, not touching you. How are you going to learn if your sex drive keeps taking over?”

Unable to stop himself, he brushed his lips against Kate’s. Soft, sensual . . . not that he’d forgotten the last time. She whined and tried to deepen the kiss, but he held her back by the hair and lightly traced her lips with his tongue. When he was ready, he kissed her, still restraining her by the hair. Her lips yielded under his. The nervous way she kissed him back, her tongue shyly meeting his, pushed him further into Dom space. He adjusted his grip in her hair, and she whimpered into his mouth. Would it be so wrong to throw her to her back and see just how willing she was?

He broke the kiss off when he chose to, sat back in his chair slightly, and allowed her to inch closer until she was between his knees, gazing up at him through half-lidded eyes.

“Please.” The word was so quiet he thought for a moment that he’d imagined it.

“Please what, Kate?”

“Please show me what it’s like with you. Just once.” She was in a subby headspace, maybe for the first time in her life, and although he ached to have her, he wondered if it was the wrong thing to do.

“I don’t think you’re ready for that.” He chuckled regretfully.

She pressed her cheek to his knee but didn’t look away. “Please, Sir. I’ll do what you want. I’ll be good.”

Sir? Fuck, that word from her lips, and her meaning it, shot straight to his cock. He untangled his gaze from hers and his hand from her long silky hair. Her sound of disappointment was adorable.

“Fine. You want to play with me, little girl?”

She seemed aware then, but more amused than worried. Had the submissiveness been real, or a ruse? Was this just about getting him into bed? God, this girl was messing with his instincts.

“I have a safeword if I can’t handle it.”

He’d have to pay close attention to make sure he didn’t push her too far—safewords only worked if you remembered to use them.

“Strip.”

Kate’s jaw dropped for a moment, but she recovered quickly. “Just like that?”

“What do you expect, dinner and a movie? You came here to see what submission was like and to have your little D/s adventure. I’m not going to play some sort of game where we pretend we don’t know what you want.”

His tone seemed to take her aback, but he wasn’t one to mince words. If she was just there to get laid he wouldn’t waste his time.

“I didn’t come here just to put a Dom notch in my belt.” Her face was scarlet. “I just—I’m a curious person. Janine has told me what Chris is like with her behind closed doors, and I was just wondering how the Master/slave dynamic was different.” She shifted where she knelt, and he wondered if her knees were getting sore.

“Labels are labels. They mean different things to different people.” He rubbed his hand over the leather of the chair’s arm, wishing he dared to touch her again. They had to get this sorted out first. “Usually the Master/slave dynamic is deep—committed—and there’s a strong emotional bond. Often it’s twenty-four-seven. For the most part, slaves submit more fully to their Masters, but I’ve met couples that identify as Dom/sub that fit that description, and Masters with slaves where they’re not planning to stay together past training.”

“So the differences between Dom/sub and Master/slave are nothing or everything, depending on the relationship?”

He smiled grimly. “Exactly.”

“But clearly, to you, there’s a big difference in the intensity of the bond and the level of obedience . . . and in the degree to which you expect to be worshipped?” The light sarcasm implied that she was teasing rather than judging.

The smooth skin of her vulnerable throat was distracting. “Yes. As well as in the degree to which I cherish the woman who wears my collar.”

Kate pressed her lips together and bit them. Was she going to laugh off the order or conveniently forget he’d issued it?

“Is there something bothering you?”

“Well, I don’t know what I’m supposed to do. You commanded me to take my clothes off, but I don’t know if you actually want me to or if you were just showing me I’m not as ready to try things out as I think I am.” She was watching him, trying to read his expression, which he was keeping purposely impassive. “And plus, if I take my clothes off does that make me a slut? We just met a few days ago.”

“When slaves are given a command, they obey. It’s not up to the slave to second-guess her Master; it’s only her responsibility to comply.”

“So it makes me a good girl, not a slut?”

“My good girl does slutty things when I tell her to. In return, the responsibility for that decision is mine.”

She straightened and looked up at him from beneath her lashes.

“Should I do it while I’m kneeling here or stand up, Banner?”

His heart thumped emphatically. He hoped she couldn’t hear it.

“It would probably be easier if you stood.” He leaned back in his chair, working on looking like a cocky bastard rather than letting her see that she’d caught him off guard.

Kate placed a gentle hand on his knee to steady herself as she rose, and the intimacy of the gesture moved him from uncertainty to a more familiar self-assurance.

She was hesitating so hard it looked painful. When she fiddled with the bottom edge of her T-shirt, stalling, he corrected her.

“Look at me while you do it. I haven’t given you permission to look away.”

“Yes, Sir.” When she moved to comply, her reluctance to disrobe made her movements slow, piquing his interest more than she had probably meant to. “I can’t believe I’m doing this. I’m not usually this forward.”

“Has anyone made you do this before?”

“Undress while they watched me? Not like this. Maybe they watched when I undressed, but not so . . . intentionally.” The shirt had just reached the bottom curve of her pert breasts, then slid upward to reveal hardened nipples.