Page 6 of In His Cuffs

“Much the same way as it’ll be tonight, yes.” His smile was predatory.

She shuddered then regretted she’d allowed him the glimpse of her vulnerability. “I have no intention of sceneing with you,” she said.

“The choice is always yours. Do you know the club’s safe word?” he asked her.

She blinked. “We’re not having this conversation.”

“Do you know the safe word?” he repeated.

“Of course.”

“Then tell me what it is.”

She felt as if she was involved in a game whose rules she didn’t understand. “Halt.”

“If you want me to walk away, say it.”

Awareness of him simmered in her, its effects causing a slow heating of her blood. One word would end their discussion. That’s what she should want. So why was she still here, feeling tempted? “You don’t play fair.”

“I like to win,” he agreed. His plainly stated words took away any further argument. “You and I both know that in any D/s relationship, the sub has the real power. You get to set the rules and the pace. If I don’t agree to your terms, we have no deal.” He paused. “In a way, the tables are turned. It seems to me you should relish that after six months.”

“It won’t be your butt that’s being blistered.”

“Or legs,” he added. “Or shoulders. Or breasts.” He leaned in a fraction of an inch closer.

It stunned her how threatened, how on fire she suddenly felt. He’d barely moved, but she was snared.

“Or pussy,” he said finally.

She pressed herself harder against the wall, needing its support. “I’m not saying I would ever agree to your insane suggestion…”

“Go on.”

“If I did, we wouldn’t talk about it at the office.”

“What happens here, stays here. It will change nothing about our dynamic at the office, if that’s what you’re afraid of.”

“I’m not afraid of anything, David,” she said, her words infused with bravado she was sure he could see through.

Maggie reminded herself she didn’t like him. But damn, there was something about his commanding manner that intrigued her. Every day, she watched him in action. When he wanted something, he pursued it with single-minded determination. A very feminine part of her wondered what it would feel like to be the focus of that attention.

“Do you have your own safe word that you prefer?”

“Halt is fine.”

“How about a word to slow things down?”

“Eclipse.”

He tilted his head to the side.

“I’m more likely to say accelerate,” she told him.

“I wouldn’t have figured you for an extreme player.”

“You think you’re a sage, Mr Tomlinson,” she said. “But you’ve misread a few things about me.”

“I’ll give you that. From the way you behave at the office, I would have taken you for a Domme.”

“It might be fun to strap you to a St Andrew’s cross,” she said, raising one of her waxed eyebrows.

He laughed.

She blinked. During the time she’d known him, she had never heard him laugh. She’d rarely even seen him smile. Was it possible she’d judged him too harshly? Then she recalled the way he’d even provided the ballpoint pen for her to sign the hated employment agreement. “I’ll take that as a no, then.”

“Not a chance in hell,” he affirmed. “The only one feeling a lash will be you. And feel it you will.”

Before she could respond to his flat, arrogant statement, he continued, “I assure you I will be very observant about your reactions.” He captured her chin and tipped her head back. “I want to know what quickens your pulse. I’ll find out what dampens your panties. I want to know all of your erotic sounds and what each means.”

She wished she had met him here first, that she’d seen him as an exciting Dom, felt the connection and agreed to scene. But she couldn’t pretend their relationship wasn’t already laden with hostility and distrust.

“For tonight,” he reminded her. “Just tonight. Say yes, Maggie mine.”

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