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“You’re making perfect sense. I feel the same way myself.” The drive she has turns me on like she can’t imagine. She reminds me of myself. She lives and breathes ambition, and the passion obvious in her voice and gestures is clear, but she’s also holding something back. Whatever she’s hiding is in the silences and the movement of her eyes when she talks about how quickly the company has grown. I can only guess, but if she’s working at Club Crave, she must be having some kind of money trouble.
“My company has a number of branches and divisions. One of our branches is a fashion line,” I say. “We have a retailer that deals in baby clothing. I’d be interested to see some samples of yours. Maybe it would be a good fit for our store.” I’m offering her an easy out. A business partnership with my company would mean resources like she can’t imagine. She would have all the capital she could handle to expand and grow.
Her eyes bulge and she leans forward. My gaze drops to her slightly parted lips and the hint of her pink tongue glistening between her teeth. I want to lean across the table and pull her into a kiss. I push down the desire and watch her expression, enjoying how plainly she wears herself in her features. In my line of work, most men and women have learned to betray nothing in their faces. I could be working alongside someone who plans to stab me in the back and have no idea. It’s refreshing seeing someone so open.
Something dark settles over her features and she shakes her head. “I can’t take your offer. I appreciate it, but I can’t.”
I nod my head, expecting as much. “You want to make it on your own or it won’t matter,” I say.
Her eyes flick up to mine, surprised.
“We’re not so different,” I say. “I expected you would refuse my offer. It’s part of what draws me to you. You can’t be bought.”
I watch something pass over her face. Doubt. Guilt. Shame. She’s thinking about Club Crave.
“I don’t think I’m the person you seem to think I am,” she says, standing abruptly.
I stand too, gripping her forearm. “Sit,” I say with more force than I intend. The Dom in me came out in that moment. Something crackles between us. Sexual energy. Recognition. Heat.
We slowly sit back down, eyes locked. I see recognition finally settle into her eyes. “You?” she asks. Her cheeks blossom with red. “You’re the one from the club. Oh my God,” she covers her face with her small hands.
I gently pull them away, forcing her to look at me. “I should have said something sooner,” I say.
She shakes her head. “Why did you leave?”
No bullshit. She cuts straight to what’s on her mind. I admire that. “I wanted this,” I say, gesturing to the table and to us. “I wanted it to be real. And if I was going to have you, I wanted it to be perfect. I wanted it my way.”
Her breath catches and her chest heaves in that way I’ve already come to love and crave. “Your way?” she asks quietly.
“Complete control,” I say. “I have particular tastes and expectations. If we were to become involved it would be… less than ordinary.”
She laughs a little nervously, shaking her head. “I don’t understand.”
I’m not the type to hesitate, but I do now. The danger of pushing too far and losing her is at the front of my mind. Losing her? The thought makes me want to laugh. She’s not mine. Not yet, at least. “I want to continue where we left off at Club Crave. This weekend. Will you be there?”
“Yes,” she says.
“Good,” I say, standing. A thought occurs to me and I step closer to her, leaning down until her hair tickles my nose. “You will wear white cotton panties. Do you understand?”
She nods her head, almost imperceptibly, eyes still staring forward and slightly wide.
I leave her sitting in stunned silence. It feels odd, blurring the line between a traditional relationship and a dominant submissive relationship. But I have to keep the line clear. I came today to get a sense of who she is. It’s important to me before I can enjoy exploring her sexuality. I have to know she’s a stable minded person. With that out of the way though, I need to close off that side of myself to her. Things can get complicated in all the wrong ways if I let this get too personal. Like I did with Lana.
I step into my car, thinking about the way she agreed to wear the panties I requested without question. She is perfect. No question, no hesitation. She just agreed. I fucking love the way she submits to me. For the first time in years, I feel alive again, really alive.
