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I stared up at him, confused. “But you aren’t done yet.”
He smiled. “I’m not a desperate man, Missy. I may be horny, but I’m not desperate.” He leant in close, breathed in my ear. “It’s not me you want, and you fucking know it.”
Caught out, called out, humiliated and exposed. It felt fucking awful. “We could still...”
He stroked my hair. “Don’t worry about it. This was fun enough, thank you.”
“Shit, Roger, this is embarrassing.” I sat up, eyes on his. “It isn’t what you think...”
“It doesn’t matter what I think.” He checked his glasses in the mirror, brushed himself off. “Just make sure you know what you’re doing. That’s the most counterproductive security measure I believe I’ve ever witnessed. I’m almost scared to leave you with him.”
I found I was smiling. “I’ll be fine.”
“I hope so, Missy. Maybe another time.” He kissed my forehead. “I’ll see myself out. Please save me if he pounces. I value my spleen.”
I held my breath until I heard the main door slam, then sighed, relieved.
I wasn’t sure how much I’d fancied his chances.
***
He’d been pacing, I could tell. He stopped as I entered, staring with dark eyes while I flicked the kettle on.
“I dunno about you, but I fancy a coffee.”
“Don’t do hot drinks.”
“Something stronger? There’s a minibar.”
He shook his head.
I made myself a drink, taking my time to stir the milk in and trying to find words. They didn’t come easy. “Thanks, for being here. It must have been strange.”
“Could say that.”
“I’m sorry, if you heard anything...”
“Heard plenty.”
My face flushed, along with the rest of me. “Sorry...”
He came closer, staring at me like I was some kind of alien. “Can’t say I get it. You liking that.”
“Hard to explain. You’d have to do it to understand.”
“Did he really hurt you?” His eyes were dark fires.
“No more than I wanted him to.”
“I heard what he was doing. You liked that?”
“Yes,” I answered, simply. “I like the submission, I like to be taken. I like to feel out of control, with a man who knows how to command himself. A man who knows what I need.”
“And he knows, does he?”
“Some of it.” I stared at him, staring at me. Aware of the pink flush on my cleavage, my dishevelled hair, the heat between my legs. Aware of him, the confusion, the anger in his eyes, aware that he was reeling, brooding. Horny. He was horny. I could feel it, feelhim.
He broke the connection, shut it down cold with one shrug of his shoulders. “We done here?”
