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Epilogue
The Caribbean breeze swept through the open sliding door, making goose bumps rise on Kate’s wet skin.
“Take those off,” Banner ordered.
The only time she’d been allowed to wear clothing this week was bikini bottoms to the beach. It kept sand from reaching delicate places. But they were b
ack in the beach house now, and Banner was looking at her as a wolf eyes its prey. They’d been having sex several times a day, all week. How was he keeping up?
The private vacation was sorely needed after the two weeks they’d just had. A piece of machinery had exploded in one of Banner’s factories, causing mandatory overtime for many of the workers, including Banner. And if that weren’t enough, Kate’s client, Sean, had been discharged again and she’d been on pins and needles before walking into work every day, afraid to see him return. So far so good, though.
“You think you can go again, old man?” she teased.
His eyes narrowed. “Old man?”
Seductively, she slid off the polka-dot bottoms, then backed up a few steps as he stalked toward her. Before she could get far, he lunged and grabbed her arm. She squealed and tried to get away, but he landed three stinging smacks on her wet ass.
“Shower,” he barked, holding back a smile.
She was glad he had kept his sense of humor, even as their relationship deepened. The intensity of the Master/slave dynamic was broken up by goofy, giggly love.
“Yes, Sir,” she said with a salute.
Growling, he followed her to the bathroom. She could practically feel his gaze on her ass, so of course she swayed it seductively.
He groaned. “You’re killing me, Trouble.”
“It’s only fair. You almost killed me with orgasms earlier.”
With a chuckle, he started the shower. “You’re complaining? Women everywhere would love to die from orgasms on a private beach in Saint Thomas.”
“Don’t I know it! They ogle you when we go into town.”
“Men ogle you too. Why do you think I keep you locked up here as much as possible?”
He whipped off his bathing suit, and she licked her lips and gave an impish smile. Roughly, he grabbed a handful of hair and yanked her head back. “Don’t tempt me.”
“Noooo,” she whined. “I was kidding. My lips are still chapped.”
His expression was smug as he leaned forward and kissed her deeply, delving into her mouth, exploring and playing while she gasped and tried to keep up.
“Get in the shower before I fuck you right here,” he said when he pulled away. He smacked her ass again.
She gave him a saucy look. “Yes, Master.”
In the shower, she waited for him to follow, but he stayed outside the door. “You’re not coming in?”
He shook his head. “You first. I have something to talk to you about after.”
Her curiosity was piqued, and with it she felt a twinge of dread. Needing “to talk” often meant bad news. He’d wined and dined her, tied her up, fucked her, mastered her, had done all sorts of crazy, romantic things—what could they possibly need to talk about? Were things not going how he wanted?
She watched him walk away, then stepped into the water. When it hit her skin, she realized how sore she was. Though they’d spent time relaxing, reading while cuddled up together and making plans for the future, there had been a lot of action. And the bastard had a kink for keeping her tied in uncomfortable positions, pushing her limits, testing her tolerance for pain.
She hissed when the water hit the cane marks on her thighs. “Jerk,” she mumbled under her breath, wearing a secret smile. She loved it, but he already knew that.
After washing away the sand and salt from the beach, she turned off the shower. Banner was waiting there with a towel, and sadly, he was wearing a new pair of shorts. His gaze stayed on her face instead of looking her over appreciatively, as he normally did.
His lips tipped down somberly. Anxiety tied a knot in her belly. What was going on? Did something happen with Rook again? Or his mom? Things seemed so much better the last few months.
