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“Do you want someone to put their collar around your neck so the world knows you belong to them?”

Her body was ready to agree to anything, but her brain made her eyes pop open. “No.”

Banner tentatively pressed his lips to hers. Surprised, she yelped against his mouth. It quickly turned into a moan, and her eyes drifted shut. He tasted as clean as he smelled. His mouth was soft at first, guiding her, teasing her. Then he took over, dominating her, forcing her to open for him. As overbearing as the rest of him, his tongue pushed into her mouth, making her take it, daring her to fight back. She did. He pushed her, and she responded by nipping at his lips and sucking on his tongue.

This time he moaned, and she felt some satisfaction in that. Her lips curved into a proud smile.

Wait. What the hell was she doing? He wanted a slave. Not her. He’d never want her.

She pulled away, reluctant because it felt so good, but she knew it would end in heartbreak if she didn’t. She eased the small hurt of rejection by remembering she didn’t want him either. Slowly, she opened her eyes.

His lips, reddened from her mouth, were right there, still close enough to touch. She looked into his eyes, and he stared back with a hunterlike glare.

“Why did you do that?” she whispered.

“Because I wanted to. I probably should have asked first.”

They stared a moment longer, neither wanting to make the first move away from the other. His gaze dropped to her chest. She knew her nipples were hard. She could feel them poking through her shirt, sensitive and aching.

His brow arched. “You’re still turned on.”

“So are you,” she shot back.

He exhaled a pained sound. “Fuck, you make me crazy.”

“What did I do?”

“You’re always challenging me,” he almost growled.

His Dom side was freakin’ hot. Part of her wanted to tease him, and then run, just to see if he’d chase her. She wanted to test the predator she saw lurking below. The other part of her—the one not controlled by her girly bits—remembered one important thing.

“I’m not yours,” she pointed out. And for a moment, she almost wished she was.

Just like that, the magic was gone. He blinked, then sat back, his face full of regret. “I know. We’re supposed to be finding you someone else.”

“Yeah.” She cleared her throat before picking up the forgotten piece of paper from the floor. Fingers shaking, she ignored his apologetic look and focused on the checklist instead. One thing was clear, she couldn’t let herself get swept away again. Guys like him didn’t hurt for dates. There were submissives all over the world ready to throw themselves at a Dom’s feet, especially one who looked like him.

In situations like this, the too-tall, stubborn screwup would be the one left reeling. She had to remind herself of that. “So, what now?”

With his back straight, face stern, Banner flipped to business mode in a matter of seconds. “I think you have potential to be submissive, and I think you want it, but you’re your own worst enemy when it comes to actually doing it.” He slung his arm across the back of the couch. “Here’s the thing when it comes to getting a Dom: if you come across as too challenging, most will think you’re only playing at it. There are a lot of women calling themselves subs who just want someone to dote on them. Or they want to get tied up once in a while. And that’s fine, if you just want some bedroom kink, but to win over a serious Dom, someone that will push you and tap into your fantasies, you need to show some of your submissiveness.”

She despised the idea of giving someone that right without them having earned it. Before she could protest, he put a hand up to stop her.

“Now, I don’t mean you need to fall at his feet and kiss his boots. But bratting and being rebellious won’t give people the idea that you’re serious.”

“I’m not bratty!” She almost pouted.

He laughed. “No. For the right person, you’d be nothing short of a very good girl.”

Was that better or worse? She scrunched her nose, trying to ignore the way his saying good girl went straight inside her.

“With Trev, you put out some strong fuck-you vibes.” Again, he stopped her when she went to protest. “Granted, he wasn’t the right guy for you, but you’ll push almost everyone away doing that. Why are you guarding yourself? What are you afraid of?”

“Nothing.” She shrugged, looking down at her fingers. “I just don’t know how to be any different.”

“You do for me.” She could hear satisfaction in his voice.

Although her first instinct was to deny it, there was no point. The question was: how did he manage it? The urge to submit to him kept catching her off guard.

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