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„Come,” I say, offering her my hand.
She places her small—and cold—hand in mine and walks a step behind me, as I escort her into the kitchen.
„Your house is beautiful,” she says. Her voice is so timid, so small and afraid, and very different from the way she talked to me, when she was trying to entice me at work.
„Thank you,” I reply, as we walk through the archway that leads into the open kitchen and living area.
„Can I offer you a drink?” I ask.
She looks at me through wide eyes, as if she didn’t know what that question meant.
„Maybe some water for now? Or would you like a tea?” I suggest.
„Water is fine,” she replies in an instant.
She tries to smile at me, but it’s not more than a flicker, gone before it was really there. Is she afraid of me? Maybe this was a bad idea after all.
„Have a seat,” I tell her, pointing toward the couch that has been demolished by the cats.
Her eyes follow my gesture, and she giggles.
„Oh no, what did the cats do to your sofa?” she asks as she runs a finger over the tortured fabric. „It was them, wasn’t it?”
„Alpha and Pi for the most part, but yes,” I say.
„Where are they?” She scans the room frantically. „Are they still with you?”
There’s a little meow coming from the entrance area, answering that question in my place—and we both have to laugh.
Just a few moments later, Zeta comes walking into the living room, quickly followed by Alpha and Omega.
„They hide when the doorbell rings,” I explain, while Claire jumps up from the couch to greet the cats.
„Oh my God, you guys are so adorable,” she squeals before she goes down on her knees to pet Zeta.
„Where’s the one with pretty green eyes?” she wants to know.
„Pi? She’s shy. I think she’s going to stay in hiding for a while longer.”
I hand her a glass of water, and she takes an excessively large swig of it.
„Thank you.”
She smiles at me, but there’s still a hint of apprehension in it.
„Feel better?” I ask, and she nods.
„I wasn’t feeling…bad,” she mutters. „Just, um, nervous, I guess.”
„Good,” I say. „I like you nervous.”
Her eyes widen but she doesn’t say anything when I take the glass of water out of her hand. I place it on the kitchen island behind me before I take her hand in mine, pulling her close until she’s trapped in my embrace.
She looks up at me with parted lips, begging to be kissed.
„You have no idea how much I’ve been dreaming about this,” she whispers. „I couldn’t get you out of my head.”
„I couldn’t get you out of my head either,” I say, as the tip of my finger trails along her flushed cheek. „And I can’t wait to see how well you take your punishment.”
