Chapter 2
“Look, I don’t care what you think your players are going to do. I’m telling you the experienced players are going to figure out how to exploit that bug and keep pillaging that chest for the extra weapons and gold. It’ll unbalance the economy and screw up the game. Let me patch it up, and you’ll be fine. A few hours of coding, and I can—”
Alex paced around his living room as the voice on the other end of his phone babbled on.
He gritted his teeth. “Yes, I realize that it’s your in-house programming staff that created it and they should know what they’re doing. I’m only the expensive freelancer you’re bringing in to complete the new expansion on time. It’s your call. But don’t be surprised when it all comes down on your head. I know what I’m doing, and I know what’s going to happen.”
The phone beeped to signal an incoming call.
His heart raced as he recognized the number.
“I’ve got to go. But the longer you wait for this fix, the more it’s going to cost you. Good-bye.” He tapped the button to transfer away from the business call, not waiting for the response.
He had more important things to deal with.
“Hello?”
“Mr. Hanson?”
“Yes?” He felt like his heart was about to burst out of his chest.
“This is Hooded Pleasures. We’d like you to come to our office for a final interview. When might you be available?” The smooth voice caressed his jangled nerves.
What the hell?
He tamped down the surge of annoyance at yet another barrier being tossed in his way.
“You have to understand that I’m a very busy man. I thought I’d passed all your checks—”
“And we appreciate your patience with the process and apologize for the time it’s taken. You will be interviewing your prospective Domme. We want to make sure you’re compatible in every way before she begins her home visits.”
A flash of heat shot down his spine, pooling in his groin. “Interview? But I thought—”
“We wouldn’t assign just anyone to you, Mr. Hanson.” The soothing voice continued to purr. “I promise you that this is the last step in our process.”
Alex forced himself to calm down, put his temper in check. “I understand.” He’d already gotten the notifications from his computer alerting him to their checks on his financial status, his personal references and his work status. It was hidden under the guise of a security clearance for a possible freelance job, but he knew they were the ones asking for information.
He couldn’t blame them. He might be new to all this, but it didn’t take a genius to see there’d be a lot of people interested in Hooded Pleasures’ clientele for all the wrong reasons.
Same with the clubs.
Boots ’n’ Chains was the closest one to him, and they had the same in-depth security check.
He’d applied and passed their inspection, paid the membership fees, but hadn’t had the nerve to actually go to the club, even on their new members’ night. Every time he thought about it, his stomach twisted into nervous knots at somehow being caught out as a poser, a faker who wasn’t really into the scene.
He couldn’t go.
Not yet.
Not until he was sure this was right for him.
And this was the only way he could find out.
He snapped out of his reverie as the woman kept talking.
“Is tomorrow too soon?”
“You work weekends?” He couldn’t keep the surprise out of his voice. “I mean, for interviews?”
The woman laughed. “We adjust our schedules to the needs of our clients, Mr. Hanson. If tomorrow won’t work for you—”
“No, it’s fine. I can fit an appointment in tomorrow afternoon.” He couldn’t believe he was doing this. He was arranging an interview with a Dominatrix.
He must be losing his mind.
“Is two o’clock a good time?”
“I can clear my timetable for that. For this,” Alex replied.
He never scheduled anything for the weekends.
“Tomorrow it is, then. Sunday afternoon at two o’clock. We’ll send you an email confirming the appointment and the address. Please don’t be late. Kate will be looking forward to seeing you. Thank you.” The woman hung up before Alex could respond.
“Kate.” Alex stared at the phone. “Her name is Kate.” He licked his lips as if tasting the letters.
“Kate.”
She’d stopped on the way home for brunch, stuffing herself on eggs and bacon in an attempt to quell her nervousness. When that failed to stop her mind from churning, she went to the Royal Ontario Museum and wandered among the dinosaurs, letting the familiar exhibits soothe her troubled thoughts.
It wasn’t that she hadn’t interviewed prospective clients before. Almost all her customers had been new with only two being “hand-me-downs” from other Dommes who had left or who had requested a transfer for some reason.
But this one coming so soon after her recent issue with Dan—it felt different.
Kate wasn’t sure if she was the one being tested, not this Alex.
Her wanderlust brought her home late in the afternoon. It also brought a handful of new paperback books, a box of freshly baked chocolate cookies from the local bakery and a package of plastic dinosaurs from the museum’s gift shop.
Nervousness tended to cost her a lot.
After making a cup of green tea, she settled on the couch and picked up the nearby sketchpad.
Kate traded it for the television remote a few seconds later.
The sketchbook lay forgotten in her lap as she flipped through the television channels, searching for some reason to avoid thinking too much. She had to get down to doing some drawing but needed to settle her mind before starting.
The image resolved to show a man falling off his bike repeatedly, most likely drunk.
Perfect.
A program showing various dumb criminals caught on surveillance tape, either through security cameras or, better yet, documenting their own crimes with their cell phones.
She couldn’t ask for better blind-mind entertainment.
“Idiots.” She picked up the pencil and began to draw, her attention caught between the two worlds.
The dark strokes formed into a rogue, crouching as she checked a sack for whatever she’d purloined from a nearby merchant. A few lines added long hair draped over one shoulder, the tattered clothing detailing how she’d started off at a much higher social position and slipped down to the point that she was stealing. It was a good first draft, and she knew it was working, the magic meshing to create something she’d be proud to put her name on.
It was a commission from one of her many fans. Since she’d started posting her art in an online art community, she’d not only gotten rave reviews but also requests for personalized pictures.
She didn’t need the money. Between her trust fund and HP, she was quite comfortable.
But she loved creating, and she wasn’t going to give it away for free. So she charged reasonable rates and did what she loved.
Her cell phone buzzed. She picked it up and read the short text message.
Alex Hanson had agreed to an appointment at the office tomorrow.
She tapped her code in to acknowledge she’d received the information and returned to her sketch.
The rogue stared at her, frozen in place.
Kate chewed on the edge of the pencil, unable to beat down the nagging feeling in the back of her mind that this might be the last interview she did.
Burned out? How can I be burned out? I’ve only been doing this for a year. Five clients, hardly a major workload.
If she left HP, her lifestyle would take a knock, but it wouldn’t be much of a setback. Maybe she’d have to order less take-out and actually buy groceries.
It wasn’t like she was spending money on a relationship.
A mental image of Carl flashed across her mind’s eye.
Hope she’s taking care of you, you bastard. Not.
Her pencil drew a jagged edge across the rogue’s face, the angry scar so deep, it almost ripped the page.
She threw her sketchpad onto the table and headed for the computer desk.
Wonderful. He’s still fucking with my mind months after the fact.
A year, sweetie, her inner voice snapped. A whole year since you saw him at the club with Lily. The way they were acting told you this wasn’t a new relationship and you’d been blind, totally blind to what had to have been going on under your very nose.
Mortified didn’t begin to cover the embarrassment she’d felt, the feeling everyone was watching her, studying her.
Pitying the Domme who had lost her submissive to another woman.
Kate let her breath out slowly, trying to ignore the growing anxiety attack. The pain in her chest lessened as she forced herself to relax.
Her gaze wandered to the waiting computer.
Maybe a few hours of hacking and slashing would help her calm down.
She grinned and tapped the keyboard to open up the program and connect with the server.
A few minutes later, she settled into the chair, chuckling as she watched a bunch of new players race toward certain doom. They were headed for an area far above their battle capability and definitely outside their expertise. She’d been polite and warned them, but one wizard had scoffed at taking advice from a ten-foot-tall female ogre warrior.
They’d learn soon enough.
She headed for the caves and her usual hunting grounds.
“Damnit.” Alex banged his fingers on the keyboard, deleting lines of code.
The cursor ran along the bottom of the screen, eating up numbers and letters with a zealous appetite, devouring a good hour’s worth of work.
“Crap. Crappity crap crap.”
He looked at the clock. It was 10:14 p.m.
Fourteen hours until his appointment.
His attention wandered off the screen to the stack of books, well-thumbed pages warping the glossy covers. His ebook reader sat there as well with bookmarked pages available at a finger’s touch.
Alex shifted in the chair, trying not to think about what he was about to get into. He’d used up almost all his resolve to pick up the phone and call a few weeks ago, tapping in the number he’d found only through some online sleuthing.
Hooded Pleasures.
Based on the initial conversation, he thought he’d called some secret government agency, the receptionist interrogating him as to where he’d found their number and what he thought they were all about, blah blah blah. And then the follow-up call and the paper forms arriving via courier, swearing him to secrecy and demanding so much information. He thought he might be signing up for a one-way mission to Mars.
It’d been more intrusive than getting a membership to the club, and there had been a moment filling out the forms when he’d hesitated, perched on the edge and about to back away from having someone come to his house.
His inner voice berated him for his lack of nerve, as well as his rather illogical reasoning.
He couldn’t handle going to the club, but he could handle a woman entering his personal space? Coming to where he lived, where he worked?
Coming to dominate him.
He’d caught himself one last time before signing the last page, wondering if the risk was worth it.
And yet—
He glanced sideways at the books.
I want this.
I need this.
I need to know who I am.
Alex shifted again in the chair and wondered if a cold shower might be the answer.
Or more reading. Research.
His right hand moved into his lap, dangerously close to its goal. He scratched the rough fabric and considered taking matters into his own hands.
Or hand, as it were.
It’d calm him down, that much was for certain.
No.
Restraint.
Discipline.
He grunted and put his hand back on the keyboard.
If I’m going to start somewhere, might as well be here and now.
There was enough to do here, a few more hours of coding before he could sleep, eat, shower and prepare for his appointment. No time for indulging himself.
Not when he was going to meet the real deal soon enough.
Kate stopped at a small café for breakfast, mentally preparing for the upcoming meeting.
Alex thought he’d be interviewing her.
It was really the other way around. She would be poking around his psyche, looking for signs that he wasn’t truly a sub, that he was a Dom in disguise. He might not know it himself, but this interview would let them both know where he stood.
Or knelt, if she had her way.
If he wasn’t a true submissive, it wouldn’t be a problem. She’d terminate the interview and Wendy would take over. She’d gently maneuver Alex toward the door with recommendations for a private club and inform him that HP wasn’t going to be able to give him what he wanted. A smart man would figure it out fast enough.
Hooded Pleasures didn’t supply submissives. There was too much of a chance for abuse, too much opportunity for someone to be taken advantage of.
They also supplied male Doms for those women who couldn’t or wouldn’t go to a club, caught in the same issues and problems as the men she dealt with.
Equal strokes for equal folks.
The company’s rules tried to cover all possibilities.
Alex would come in and see if he was truly a sub and if he was ready to take his desires to the next level.
Hopefully with Kate.
She nodded at the waitress as the pastry was placed in front of her, steam still rising from the warm roll.
Kate tore a thick piece off the freshly baked croissant and nibbled on it, savoring the buttery taste.
None of her present clientele had refused her.
Mentally, she brought up the image of Alex Hanson, game programmer and fellow geek.
That puckish smile had her grinning as she sipped her coffee.
He’d take her on. She knew it.
In the end, it did come down to Alex’s decision, his veto if he decided he didn’t like Kate.
That was the way it had to be, really. The power lay with him, and it had to be his choice.
If not, Wendy would give him to another Domme. But Kate knew she wouldn’t have paired Alex with Kate if she didn’t think there would be something clicking between them.
Kate popped the last of the croissant in her mouth and felt the thin layers melt on her tongue.
There was only one way to find out.
She finished her coffee and gestured for the bill.
Alex nodded at the cab driver as he paid the man and got out. “Fine. Just remember I warned you.” He turned the phone off and stuffed it in a pocket of his jacket before looking around.
Downtown was downtown, no matter what city you were in. Plenty of tall office buildings filling the streets with character, the eye-catching architecture calling you in. Some others were lonely obelisks stabbing the sky.
All holding secrets.
Except this one seemed to hold more than the usual.
He walked through the door, noting the keen eye of the security guard on him.
No slouching mall cop here.
He strode up to the desk. “My name is Alex Hanson. I have a special appointment on the fifth floor.” He used the exact words as instructed to do in the email. Alex couldn’t blame them for trying to be subtle about their company and what it offered. He was sure the guard didn’t know what went on at HP or what the fifth floor contained—and that was just fine with both of them.
“Personal ID please.”
The security guard checked Alex’s driver’s license and scanned his clipboard. He drew a line through Alex’s name before sliding a visitor’s pass across the desktop. “Keep that visible at all times.”
“Thank you.” Alex clipped it to his left lapel.
“Only good for the fifth floor. Please don’t go anywhere else.” The guard jabbed a thumb at the elevators. “Have a nice day.”
The ride was only a few seconds, but it seemed like he was walking into a whole new world, his mind spinning with the reality of what he was about to do.
Alex stepped off the elevator. There was no choice of which direction to go. The lone reception desk at the far end of the hallway was the only thing in sight.
The redhead behind it eyed him as he approached, glancing down every few seconds to the magazine in her hand.
He could have sworn it was titled Mercs for Hire.
She put it down when he got closer and smiled. “Can I help you?”
“I have an appointment.” He tapped his visitor’s badge and straightened his tie, keeping his hands busy. “Two o’clock sharp. I’m a few minutes early. If you can fit me in—”
She cut him off. “Your name is—”
“Alex Hanson.” He glanced around as she murmured into her headset.
Framed photographs of skylines of various cities hung on the walls surrounding the reception desk, canned images he’d seen before. Two doors on each side offered entry to what he assumed was the inner sanctum of Hooded Pleasures.
He swallowed hard. The impulse to bolt was strong, the urge to run for the elevator and forget all this, forget it ever existed, almost overwhelming.
No.
You want this.
You need this.
Stay.
“Wendy will be out momentarily.” The woman smiled.
Alex looked around.
There was no place to sit, no comfortable chair for him to lounge in. Nothing but the bare wall, and he wasn’t going to slump against the wall like some slacker unable to stand on his own two feet for a few minutes.
The redhead returned to her magazine, ignoring Alex.
He put his hands in his pockets and rocked back and forth.
Two minutes.
Five minutes.
Seven minutes.
He approached the desk. “Excuse me.”
The receptionist stared at him.
Alex showed her his watch. “My appointment is for two o’clock sharp. It’s now five of two.”
She didn’t flinch from his annoyed glare.
“I don’t think you understand. My time is valuable, and I can’t waste it hanging around waiting for someone to get back from their lunch break,” Alex continued. “If there’s some sort of problem—”
The door to his left opened. A woman came out and smiled at him.
“Alex? I’m Wendy.”
He instinctively smiled back, relaxing slightly.
She stepped back and gestured him in. “Third door on the left please.” She glanced over at the receptionist as Alex moved past her. “Thanks, Candy.”
Alex walked into the hall, feeling like an insect wandering into the spider’s web. The walls were painted a neutral cream, unmarked doors lining the way.
He counted off the doors and opened the third one, not looking to see if Wendy was behind him.
The boardroom reminded him of his first and only meeting with the Alexander brothers. They’d wanted a freelance programmer for their new Brawltown expansion and asked for an appraisal. He’d delivered a fine presentation about what they needed and what he could supply at his usual rates.
Then they revealed they weren’t willing to pay what Alex wanted, but the experience of working on a popular game would give him great exposure. After all, they were a young company and they couldn’t afford his fees. Maybe if he dropped it by half—
Alex had appraised the boardroom table and furniture at over five thousand dollars, easy.
He’d walked out.
This set put that one to shame.
The slick leather chairs were soft and supple to the touch, easy to sink into. He wished he had one of these at home for those all-night sessions crouched over the keyboard. He sat down and rubbed his palm over the armrest.
Wendy stood in the doorway. “Someone will be with you in a minute. Thank you.”
Alex watched her leave, the door sliding shut with an almost silent click.
Really? I have to wait again?
He took a deep breath to calm his jangled nerves. There was nothing worse than dealing with inefficient personnel.
Maybe he could file a complaint with management for wasting his time.
Alex smiled, imagining how Hooded Pleasures would deal with bad employees. A little bondage, a little spanking. Maybe some of them did it on purpose, wanting to be caught and punished.
He frowned.
Not Candy.
She was most definitely not a submissive from the way she’d glared at him. If anything, she’d be in one of those action films, packing that huge pistol from the cover of the magazine.
Just what you wanted in a receptionist.
The analysis calmed him down, reminded him why he was here.
Okay.
Now what?
He looked around the room. No wide-screen, no phones, no filing cabinets. Nothing but a jug of water at the far end of the table and empty glasses.
At least they were crystal. Good ones, from the look of them.
Alex drummed his fingers on the desk.
He glanced at his watch. The email had made it very clear tardiness would not be tolerated.
On his part.
Obviously this type of time mismanagement was common for Hooded Pleasures.
It was now two-twenty.
Two more minutes and then—
Any thoughts of leaving vanished as the door opened.
He got to his feet automatically.
A woman walked in, carrying a file folder. She smiled at Alex and put it on the table at the far end before leaving.
The door shut behind her.
Alex sat down again, scowling.
If this is some sort of scam—
Before he could finish the thought, the door flew open and another woman entered.
He got to his feet a fraction slower than before, taken off guard by the abrupt entrance.
The brunette strolled toward him. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail that curled over one shoulder. Her white blouse was crisp and pressed, as was her short black skirt.
The long black leather boots made him catch his breath. He’d always been a leg man, but this—
Her blue eyes locked with his. “Alex Hanson?”
“Yes.” He smiled and extended his hand. “You must be Kate.”
Her handshake was firm, her long, slender fingers lingering a second too long against the inside of his wrist.
“Please sit.” She gestured at his chair.
Alex sat.
Kate did not. She strolled to the far end of the table and poured two glasses of water.
He was mesmerized, watching the swish of her hips. All the questions he’d pondered asking slipped out of his mind as he imagined her in leather and lace, the archetypical Domme from his dreams.
He shifted in his chair, his cock straining against his briefs already.
This is going to be one hell of an interview.
She turned back and smiled at him. “Before we get started, I’d like to ask you a few questions. Get a better picture of who you are. If you don’t mind.”
“Of course,” Alex replied. “What do you want to know?”
She picked up the folder and opened it, reading as she walked around the table. “You program computer games for a living and make good money doing it. You’ve worked on some of the most popular games out there. GoldHunter Online, for one.”
There was a flicker of something in her tone, something like—envy? Curiosity? Familiarity?
It came to him in a flash.
She’s a fellow gamer.
He nodded, unsure if the fact reassured him or increased his anxiety. “I work independently for a number of companies. Freelance.”
“Interesting.” She let the single word hang in the air between them.
Alex licked his lips, wondering if he’d come across her in any of his online personas.
And if she’d been half as beautiful kicking butt and taking names.
She walked behind him, moving out of sight.
“Let me be blunt, Alex. You can have any woman you want.” The words slapped him in the back of the head. “Right now, geeks are hot. You could go to any convention, announce your job and have your pick of women willing to go to bed with you, no questions asked. So why are you calling Hooded Pleasures?” She stayed invisible. “Why do you think you’re a submissive man, one who would like me to dominate you?”
The heated whisper on the back of his neck almost had him rising out of the chair to turn and face her.
But he didn’t.
Let her ask her questions. I can deal with it.
Until it’s my turn.
“Okay. Good question. I could. And I have. But after a while, it’s just sex, it’s just getting off, and I can do that with my hand and a bottle of lotion. I want more.”
Kate stepped into sight on his right side. She gripped his chin and tilted his head up to face her. “And what would that be?” She locked eyes with him. “Tell me.”
Alex blinked, his heart surging into overdrive.
“If you can’t say it—” She released him and began to turn away.
Don’t go. God, don’t leave me.
“I want to be dominated.” He spoke without censoring his thoughts, not wanting her to move an inch more. “I want a woman to make me her slave. I want to make her happy by letting her do whatever she wants to me, because that’ll make me happy. I want to worship her body and give myself totally to her to do with as she wishes, because that would give me pleasure, almost more than getting off. I want to show her I’m strong enough to be hers and endure whatever she does to me, because I love her.”
He panted, out of breath and out of words, waiting to see her reaction to his confession.
She didn’t react. She didn’t flinch or screw her face up in the disapproving stare he’d imagined any woman would make when confronted with his deepest desires.
Kate smiled.
She sat next to him and leaned in, the sudden intimacy startling him.
“Tell me, where did you learn about this from? Where did you get this idea of being a sub?” Kate whispered.
Alex felt a nervous itch run across his shoulders.
“It started back when I was in high school.” He squirmed in the expensive leather chair, unable to stay still. It was like being in a confessional. “My buddies, they had some magazines. We passed them back and forth, our own lending library.” He couldn’t help smiling at the memory. “A whole lot of girls tied up and so forth. Some spanking, a little rope play, but nothing too hardcore.” Alex laughed. “At our age, we weren’t too sure what was going on, but the magazines had hot girls, and that was enough.”
“And you liked it?” Her tone wasn’t judgmental, just curious.
“Not all of it,” he admitted. “I liked the naked women, but I wanted to be the one who was spanked. Restrained. Tied up.” The confession lightened the weight on his chest even as he felt his cheeks begin to burn.
“I see.” She gestured him on. “And after you left school?”
“I went to college, got laid the mandatory number of times I was supposed to.” He ran a hand through his hair. “Started my own business and, yes, met women just the way you described. Took them home, had my way with them and made sure to make them breakfast in the morning before calling a cab.” He couldn’t help the note of pride in his voice. “Never left one of them wanting.”
Kate gave a slow nod.
Time for the other stuff.
“Found a few kinky women in my wanderings, but it was one-sided. Pretty mild stuff.” He shrugged. “Fuzzy handcuffs and maybe a blindfold, tie them to the bedposts. That sort of stuff. I did what they wanted, but it wasn’t working for me.”
Suddenly, the expensive leather chair was uncomfortable to sit in.
“I still got turned on, but it wasn’t the same. I wanted to be the one in the cuffs, the one tied to the bed. I tried to explain it to one or two of them, but they wanted to be spanked and not return the favor. The one who did thought I was a pervert and left at three in the morning after finishing off the last of my expensive whiskey. Didn’t even leave a note.”
She didn’t say anything.
Alex shifted again in his chair.
“After that, I wasn’t sure what to do, so I threw myself into my work. I went on blind dates and picked up women at bars and screwed whoever said yes. I didn’t ask for what I wanted, because I knew I wasn’t going to get it.” The words felt harsh rolling off his tongue. “I fucked and got fucked, played by the rules and still wasn’t happy.” He pulled in the strength to say it. “I even applied to a club. A BDSM club here in town. Passed all the security checks, but I don’t have the guts to go. Sort of like going to a fitness club—you get the membership, but you don’t want anyone to see how out of shape you are, so you don’t go.”
Her silence unnerved him.
He couldn’t stop talking. It was like a cork had been pulled out of a keg of wine, the contents spilling out without any chance of keeping control.
Alex pushed his chair back and stood. “I can’t go there, not yet. Not until I know this is what I really want. I don’t want to watch, I don’t want to be one of those guys who talk the talk but don’t want to walk the walk. I don’t want to be thrown out because I’m a poser, a voyeur when that’s not what I am. Not the real me.”
He walked to the other end of the table. He picked up one of the water glasses and drained it. The cool liquid helped him focus again on where he was and what he was supposed to be doing.
“I understand.”
The soft words assuaged his soul, stopped the bleeding in his mind.
He looked back.
She eyed him for a second before switching her gaze to the still-full second glass.
Alex picked it up and went to her, leaving his drink behind. He placed it on the varnished tabletop in front of her with a nod.
Kate took a sip and let out a sigh before grinning. “Thank you. There’s nothing like ice-cold spring water.” She pointed at his vacated chair.
Alex sat back down, pleased to see her smile.
“We get a lot of newcomers like you. Going to a club is a big step, and your nervousness is very common. Aside from porn magazines, where else have you done your research?”
“Books.” He couldn’t lie to her, couldn’t fathom being able to. It was like being lassoed by Wonder Woman. “I bought some books.”
The disapproval in her eyes almost broke him.
“What books?” She motioned him on. “Titles. Authors.”
He started listing them, one at a time—counting them off on his fingers to avoid her gaze. Popular fiction titles, bestsellers he’d ordered through the online bookstores because no matter how hot they were, no matter how many book clubs bragged about them, he couldn’t find the nerve to buy them in person. Then the nonfiction titles, the hard facts displacing the myths, the reality pushing the fantasies aside.
After he finished, he dared to glance up, meet her eyes.
The approval in her eyes soothed his soul, calmed his nerves.
“You understand that fiction is fiction and fact is fact. Correct?” The gentle interrogation had a snap of concern.
“Yes.”
“We can’t promise you the same experience. I can’t promise you the same thrill as those men experienced in those books. What you’ll receive is totally yours, your own experience like no one else’s.”
The unspoken words hung in the air between them.
This is what I can give you.
If you’ll let me.
If you’re worthy of me.
“I know.” Alex drew a deep breath to steady himself. “Please understand, I’m not searching for a cheap thrill or a fast way to get my rocks off. I’m interested in the real thing and want to know what I need to do to get there.”
Kate moved behind him, out of sight. “Put your hands on the table, palms down.”
He did so in silence, his pulse pounding in his ears.
Let me make you happy.
Let me serve you.