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The three words were enough to have his dick harder than a damn railroad spike. Still, he wanted her to be 100 percent. Role-playing the way he wanted to wasn’t for the innocent, and in a lot of ways Catherine was very innocent. Would she truly be able to call him master?
ARE YOU SURE? he sent back.
A minute, then two. Three minutes went by, and Dean had to pick his chair up off the floor and sit down. He suspected that maybe she was going to back out. His phone sounded again, and Dean about came in his jeans at her neatly typed reply.
YES . . . MASTER.
DAMN, I MISS YOU! he sent back, wishing he were with her, where he could show her just how much with his lips and tongue. He wanted to tell her he loved her. He wanted her to know before she left and went back home. And God, he desperately wanted to hear the words back.
LOL, DITTO. She texted back.
He grinned and sent a text back. MEET ME AT MY HOUSE. SEVEN?
THAT WORKS.
SEE YOU THEN, SWEETS.
K, DON’T WORK TOO HARD.
Dean tossed his phone onto his desk when he read her final text. He looked over at his coat. Maybe Jonas was right, maybe some things should stay buried. What purpose would it serve for Catherine to know that her mom had been raped and that her biological father was the scum of the earth? None.
Still, he picked up his cell and hit his brother’s number. Wade would want to know, even if they both decided to bury the information. Together they would decide what to do.
“Are you having fun?” Catherine said from the chair beside Gracie. They’d already gotten their eyebrows waxed and their fingers painted. Now they sat beside each other as a salon tech did their toes. Catherine had decided on a mauve shade of polish, while Gracie went for fire engine red.
“Definitely!” Gracie said. “I love learning all the little similarities and differences between us.”
Catherine laughed. “Me too. Like the fact we’re both ticklish.”
“Exactly,” Gracie replied.
Catherine noticed Gracie squirming, and the technician gave Gracie a dirty look. Catherine had an urge to apologize for making both women’s jobs that much more difficult, but her phone buzzed, distracting her. She looked down at her purse sitting in her lap, wondering if it was Dean calling. She took it out and hit the text messaging icon. The first name to pop up was Dean’s. Catherine smiled when she read the short text. He wanted to know if she’d read the chapters. Uh-huh, Catherine thought. What Dean really wanted to know, the part left unsaid, was had she
liked what she read and would she be willing to try it with him. Before she lost her nerve, Catherine sent a quick confirmation back to him, then waited.
“Is that Dean?”
Catherine turned her head to see her sister watching her with a gentle smile.
“Yeah.”
“I thought so, considering the way you were staring at the phone all gooey-eyed.” Gracie paused then asked, “What did he want?” She winced. “Sorry, that’s rude.”
Catherine shook her head. “No, we’re sisters. It’s okay to ask those types of questions, right?” She wondered if she should talk to Gracie about Dean’s penchant toward the kinkier side of sex, but she wasn’t sure she should. Would Dean see it as a breach of trust? Then again, girl talk was girl talk, no men allowed.
Catherine leaned close, hoping the nail techs were too busy to pay them any mind, and asked, “Can I ask you something?”
“Sure,” Gracie replied, “you can ask me anything.”
In a quieter voice, Catherine asked, “Does Wade ever want to do anything . . . kinky in bed?”
Gracie laughed, but Catherine noticed she also turned beet red. “Uh, yeah. Quite often actually.” She tilted her head to the side and asked in a hushed whisper, “Why? Is Dean into kink?”
Catherine knew by the way her entire face and neck suddenly felt like she’d stepped into a volcano that she was blushing now too. “He wants me to try role-playing.” Catherine’s phone buzzed again. She quickly grabbed it and read the message on the screen. Dean wanted to know if she was sure. Was she?
Gracie’s brows scrunched together. “Er, I’m not certain I’m following you.”
“He wants me to call him master,” Catherine blurted out. She heard one of the nail techs cough, but Catherine didn’t have the nerve to look and see which one.
