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She shrugged. “Up to you. The only problem is I forgot to buy a suit.”
“Darn.” The man didn’t look the least bit dismayed on her behalf. “I suppose you can wear your bra and panties. Or you can just go naked. No one will see us.”
“You’ll see me.”
“I’ll also see you later when I tie you up and fuck you.”
She just stared at him, her heart drumming fast.
“But all of it is your choice,” he continued. “I’m willing to go as far as you’re interested in going. I’ll also stop anytime you want me to.”
“I . . . don’t . . .” she mumbled, stopped.
He arched a brow. “You don’t want to do what? Do any of it? It’s fine if you don’t.”
Crap. He was going to think she was backing out.
“No, it’s not that,” she mumbled. “I don’t . . . want to choose what we do.”
His brows lifted. “You want me to choose. You want to be bossed around.”
She nodded, almost having to lip-read over the pounding of her heart.
“Come on. We’re going swimming.” He grabbed their towels and walked back to the river.
Placidly, she trailed behind. Somehow letting him make the decision about swimming naked came with less guilt and nerves than if she’d been the one to choose. She knew she could still refuse and he would respect that, but deep down inside, she didn’t want to.
He stopped on the bank and put down the towels, then stripped off his T-shirt, revealing the chest she couldn’t help but drool over when she’d seen him in bed this morning. Had that only been this morning? It felt like they’d known each other for weeks already. She tried not to look, but the sculpted musculature and the plethora of tattoos made it hard not to gawk. And the nipple rings. Who knew she had a thing for guys with nipple piercings?
Her ex, Davin, had a sexy build, and so did Jason, who kept trying to pick her up at parties. Compared to Luke, though, they were fresh-faced babies. It wasn’t just that Luke was probably five years older, but she could tell he’d lived life, adventured, worked, rather than having been coddled and catered to.
And then there was the constant aura of danger he projected. Nobody in her social circle had ever looked at her like they wanted to eat her alive and make her like it.
“Hello?” He waved his hand in front of her eyes and she realized she’d been staring at the muscles of his stomach where they dipped down into his jeans.
“Hi.” She felt her face get hot and looked away, over to the far side of the river, at some trees that weren’t a half-naked man.
“Take off your shirt, Ophelia.”
“Do I have to?”
He paused. “Unless you want to safeword, yes.”
Reluctantly, she turned her back to him and pulled her shirt off.
“No. Turn around and face me.”
She turned back, holding her shirt up in front of herself and feeling stupid. Her black bra covered everything just as well as a bathing suit, and he was going to see her naked later anyway, so why was she feeling so . . . exposed?
“Drop the shirt and unhook your bra.”
She dropped her shirt, and couldn’t help but check his expression.
Hungry. For her. Oh my.
“Bra.”
It only took a few seconds, but goose bumps rose along her skin as she complied. God, this was turning her on. But why? Being bossed around should make her angry, not make her hot.
