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"Jerk," she punched his arm. "You'll like this. It's a sex shop."
She wouldn't give him further explanation, so when they pulled off the scenic rural route and drove up to the quaint rambling house that had been attractively landscaped for its purpose as a retail venue, Mac raised a brow at the "For Hers" sign. "I've been conned. This is one of those women's boutiques."
"It's a woman's sensuality shop," she corrected. "For Hers sells sexy things that turn women on, and the owner sells it in a way that women feel comfortable shopping for it. Erotic, not pornographic. I know him, Justin Herne. See, there he is now."
Mac saw the tall man come to the door, well-dressed in slacks and tailored shirt. He had a lean, muscular build and his brown hair was pulled back in a sleek tail, emphasizing the precise perfection of his features.
"And just how do you know him?"
She slanted him a mischievous glance. "He's something to look at, isn't he? He's my friend Sarah's husband. Newlyweds, in fact. I did Sarah a favor that helped bring them together. As a result, Justin gave me this very generous gift certificate." She pulled it from her purse, laid it in his hand. "Which I want you to go in and use."
Surprised, he glanced down at the five hundred dollar certificate. "Must have been some favor."
"A story I'll tell you on the trip home. I got all the intimate details, and I promise hearing them will get you hard as a rock." Her hand wandered over his leg and his cock stirred.
"What do you want me to buy, Mistress?"
Her fingers moved to the inside of his thigh. He shifted to accommodate her, so she could tease his testicles as she lifted her other hand in greeting to Justin. "Pick me out
something you know I'd like. And no cheating. No asking Justin or another customer for help."
With that, she stepped out of the car, leaving him watching the distracting sway of her ass in the snug denim as she went to greet Justin. The man met her with a warm embrace, Mac noted, married or not. He decided it was time to get out of the car. A guy who owned a women's sex shop might have some different ideas about monogamy.
"Justin, Mac. Mac, Justin." Violet introduced them. "I'm going to go enjoy your garden, Justin, and Mac is going to decide what would please me." She caressed Mac's forearm. "He's learning to be very good at pleasing me."
Justin's dark eyes shifted to Mac. It was the first time any Mistress had exerted her Dominance publicly over him, and lust warred with discomfort, his body roused by her obvious claim stake even as he felt embarrassed to be revealed as such to another man outside the strict structure of a place like The Zone or Tyler's. But when he left the two of them chatting in the garden and stepped into Justin's shop, he realized Justin was already keyed in to the dynamics that ruled their type of erotic play.
Every item in the shop--lingerie, play toys, costumes, videos and erotic romances, even bath oils and soaps--were selected to further a woman's erotic fantasies, including some very classy and high-priced bondage toys and restraint devices.
Mac's lips twitched at a butt plug with a horse tail. With her equine fetish, she might like that, but he damn well wasn't picking it out for her. He'd let her discover that one on her own and then torture him with the threat of it. Which, with her sadistic streak, he wouldn't put past her. He grinned at the thought. As he passed his fingers over a soft camisole, he remembered the texture of her skin beneath his, the arch of her throat, her cries as she came, the clutch of her fingers on his arms, his hips. The smell of her hair, her half-smile.
"It's hard to know what to get for a woman when you want to give her everything, isn't it?"
Justin had apparently stepped into the doorway while he was touching the garment, staring into space. Mac realized he had a tight, crushing grip on the soft fabric and he released the satin, making an awkward attempt to smooth it.
"It is," he agreed shortly.
"Do you want a suggestion?"
Mac opened his mouth, closed it, gave a shake of his head.
"She forbade you to ask for help."
That definitely pushed way past the threshold of his comfort zone, and made itself uncomfortably at home in the living room of his psyche. So he shrugged. He wouldn't lie, but he wouldn't, couldn't engage a man like Justin Herne on this issue. "I have to know what it is," he said. "That's the point."
Justin nodded. "I'll leave you to it, then," he said. He stepped forward, placed a brief hand on Mac's shoulder, met his eyes from an equal height. "Take care of her. She's very special to us."
As another customer came in, he turned away, and Mac watched him slip into the mode of the warm, professional shopkeeper. He shifted his gaze to the window and found his Mistress sitting on a bench amid the early autumn flowers of the courtyard garden, gazing into the sparkling ripples of a fountain. The sun was making her a bit sleepy, and she laid her head on her hand, turning sideways on the bench so she could watch the fountain and let her thoughts wander where they would. All she needed were wings and a sprinkling of dust across her cheeks and he'd easily imagine her as a garden fairy, alighting in this sensual, quiet place to dream dreams only fairies understood. Of butterfly princes, rides on the backs of swallows, or naps taken in the cradle of a blooming rose.
As the customer brushed past him with a murmured, "Excuse me," and a lingering, appreciative glance, he realized he'd been drifting himself, just standing there watching her for nearly ten minutes.
As if she sensed his attention, Violet's head rose, and she looked his way. She studied him with serious eyes, then lifted her hand, pressed her lips to her palm and blew a kiss.
Watching those delicate fingers, that moist mouth press against her skin, a warmth swept through him, as if she'd blown pixie dust to him in truth. He smiled, lifted a hand and turned to find something that would make his fairy queen happy.
*
Violet opened her eyes at a feather light touch on her calf.
