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“Good. Nasty habit. But . . . convenient device.”
The spirals in the lighter glowed bright red and Gib’s gaze seemed transfixed on it. “What are you doing, Sam?”
“I’ve heard branding someone’s skin can be very erotic.” She let her eyes go down to his spread thighs. “And someone like you who loves the pain so much . . . well, I bet you’d like it. But maybe we should just burn a little hair off first, test it out.”
He shifted back against the seat. “What? Sam—”
She reached down and cupped his balls, rubbing her thumb along the tender skin there. He groaned at her touch, but his hand curled tight against his thigh.
“Hmm . . . pleasure mixed with pain can be so potent.” She brought the lighter downward.
“Fuck, Sam. What are you—”
She got the lighter close enough to make a hair on his inner thigh sizzle.
“Jesus Christ.” He shoved her hand away. “Red! Fuck! Red!”
She immediately shifted back to her side and tucked the lighter into the base, smiling.
When she looked back at Gibson, his eyes were wide, accusing. “What the hell was that?”
She leaned over and brushed her mouth over his. “Thank you. Now I can trust you to use that word. We all have limits, Gib. That’s not weakness. It’s smart.”
“Christ.” He blew out a tense breath and raked a hand through his hair. “Would you have used the fucking thing if I hadn’t safe worded?”
“Yes.” She said it with total confidence, even though she wasn’t sure she would’ve been able to go through with it. She was beginning to understand, to see those subtle hints he was throwing off. She’d scared him. He didn’t want to be burned, but his erection hadn’t flagged. The danger fed him. The question of will she/won’t she had amped up his arousal.
He shook his head and swiped a hand over his face. “You’re a little crazy, Sam.”
She smiled syrupy sweet and brought out Dolly as she patted his cheek. “You’re just figuring this out, dumplin’?”
He laughed, though there was a sharp edge to it. Nerves. Wariness. “Oh, shit, the country twang of death. Now I’m worried.”
“You’re in good hands, sugar. I promise.”
“Uh-huh.” He licked his lips. “So if we all have limits, what are yours?”
She shrugged, dropping the country act. “Boys who lie. Boys who cheat.”
He frowned.
Boys who keep me a secret.
She shoved aside that last thought. “And I don’t play with people who I can’t trust to safe word. Glad we got past that. So, are you ready to pay me back for your bad behavior tonight?”
The playful mood from a minute before had fallen away. Gibson’s expression had gone serious by the time he gave a little nod. “Yes, mistress.”
“Good.” She patted his chest. “Then go inside like a good boy and make sure the dogs are watered and fed. When that’s done, go upstairs and shower off that police station smell. Once I hear the shower turn off, I’ll give you fifteen minutes before I come up to join you. When I walk in, I want you naked and kneeling at the foot of the bed, back to the door, head down.”
He listened to every word like a soldier receiving his marching orders. Then when she was done, he reached out and cupped the back of her head, his gaze heavy on her. “Before I go in, I just want to tell you I really am sorry for tonight, Sam. I’m sorry I’m . . . like this and that I can’t give you what you’re looking for. But I promise I’ll do everything I can tonight to make this good for you.”
The sincerity in his voice nearly undid her. He really had no idea, no idea how much he got to her, how seeing him hurt knotted her up inside. But beyond that, she also heard the yearning ache in his words. I’m sorry I’m like this was what he’d said. I don’t want to be is what she heard.
She pressed her forehead to his and closed her eyes. “No more apologies tonight, okay? For the rest of the night, it’s just you and me. No past. No future. Just right now. And right now, you’re mine. Let all the rest go. All you need to worry about is saying, Yes, mistress, and doing what I say and feeling what you feel. Think you can do that?”
He inhaled a deep
breath, his hand gripping the back of her head like a lifeline. “Yes, mistress.”
