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“I’m not,” he replied. He had to know. “Are you?”
She turned her head slightly and peeked at him through lowered lashes. “Light S and M? Well, lots of my customers are.”
He couldn’t resist asking, “Light S and M? How, exactly, would that differ from the heavy variety?”
She shrugged. “It’s more playful, not for seriously weirded-out people. We don’t sell whips, belts or paddles. But some couples enjoy the occasional black leather dominatrix outfit.”
He had a sudden mental picture of her wearing black leather and clenched his jaw.
“And, of course, there’s also light bondage. Handcuffs, silk scarves, blindfolds. It’s all part of the fantasy.”
“Fantasy?” God help him. Even though it might give him another long, sleepless night, he really wanted to know her fantasies. “Like?”
“Like being overwhelmed,” she admitted softly. “Letting yourself be overcome by passion, even made helpless when you’re with someone you can trust.” She bit the corner of her lip, as if deciding to continue. “Exploring every possibility, going as far as your body can go, without being able to stop, because someone you know would never hurt you is in complete control.”
Kate was nearly covered with paint from head to toe. Her thick, dark hair was pulled haphazardly into a ponytail at the back of her neck. She wore no makeup and she held a drippy paint roller plopping little drops of paint on the plastic drop cloth every time she moved it.
He’d never wanted her more.
Jack had walked hip-deep into this conversation, so he had no one else to blame. And he couldn’t quite find a way to get out of it. Nor was he sure he wanted to.
“Is that your fantasy?” He heard the thick tone in his voice. “Being overwhelmed? Letting someone you trust give you pleasure without any mental barriers, any restrictions, taking because you have no other choice but to take?”
“I think so,” she murmured. “Being free to wring every ounce of gratification you can because it’s beyond your control to stop it.”
In twenty seconds Kate had just made him understand the appeal of silk scarves and handcuffs.
“You must be really good at your job,” he said softly. “Though, I still don’t get the whole spanking thing.”
She gave him a wicked grin. “Well, I don’t particularly care for pain, but I have to say you are very good at kissing and making all better.”
Remembering kissing her hip in the shower the other night, he knew exactly what she meant. His body reacted instinctively, another sudden rush of heat rushing southward from his gut to his groin. “Now, I could take that the wrong way and be offended,” he said, stepping closer.
“Oh?”
He nodded. “You just basically told me to kiss your ass. I could take it as an insult.” He lowered his voice to a whisper. “Or a really tempting invitation.”
Her lips parted and her tongue snaked out to moisten them.
“Which do you think it was?”
Unable to resist, he lifted a hand to her throat, running his finger down and touching its hollow. “I think if this were a week ago, it’d be an insult. Today, I’m not so sure.”
She closed her eyes, tilting her head back as he traced a path around her neck, to her collarbone, touching her only with the tips of his fingers. “Me, neither,” she admitted.
Needing to feel her in his arms again, Jack tilted her chin up and caught her mouth with his own. She moaned, parting her lips, inviting him deeper, and he accepted her invitation.
He loved kissing Kate. Every time was better than the last, hot and sweet, carnal and tender. He made love to her mouth, tasting her, drinking of her, making no effort to step away to disguise his body’s reaction. She pressed against him, moaning again as he moved his mouth to press kisses on her jaw. “It’s hard to find a clean spot,” he said with a chuckle.
“Here’s one,” she whispered, pushing the sleeve of her tank top, and her bra strap, to the edge of her shoulder. A naughty invitation, which he immediately accepted. He kissed down her neck, to her collarbone, and right below it.
“Where else?” he asked, nudging the cotton top down even lower. She answered with only a soft sigh and an arch in her back, telling him to proceed. He did, scraping his tongue down to the top curve of her breast, then sliding it lower to flick at her pebbled nipple.
