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His brows scrunch. “How many hours do you work?”
“A lot,” I say. “Can’t complain about the overtime though. I need it.”
“Nora,” he says in almost a growl. “How many hours?”
I bite my lip and squeeze my eyes shut. We’ve talked on the phone a few times and texted a bit over the past few days. I never got this stern vibe from him before. “Sometimes only forty. Sometimes sixty or even seventy-five.”
Becker’s jaw clenches. “That’s a lot.”
“I’m sure you work that often, too? Being a business owner.”
He drops his head in a slight nod. “But I earn the appropriate amount of money for my work. You make minimum wage, right?”
“I make what the state deems to be a livable wage, yes.”
There’s a vein in his forehead that looks like it's about to blow. Crap, I need to get this conversation back on track. We’re here to see if we’re attracted to each other, decide what we like, and work on a contract. The last thing I need is for him to have a stroke before I’ve gotten to see what his dick looks like.
I place my hand on his wrist and squeeze it lightly, in what I think is a comforting touch. I wouldn’t know because I don’t like it, but I’ve seen it done plenty of times in movies, or read it in books.
His head stays forward, but he glances at me from the side. After a few heavy breaths, he turns so that his body is completely facing me. I do the same, and again, he touches me. Both hands rest firmly on my upper thigh, above my knee. “Is this okay? Your profile said you don’t like soft touch.”
“It’s…” a small laugh escapes me. “It’s a perfect pressure.” I drop my head and he does the same so that our foreheads are touching. I resist the urge to cover his large hands with mine. “No one’s ever gotten it right,” I murmur.
“How does it feel?”
I close my eyes, inhaling a sharp breath, and I concentrate on his hands. They’re hot. In fact, the heat spreads through my spine. If he moves his hands, I think I may grow cold. “Warm,” I whisper.
“Warm,” he says.
Chapter two
Becker
“So,”shesays,anervous laugh brushing her lips. “What happens next?”
“Are you ready for a scene? Or would you like to take it slow?”
I did my research on her. Asked around the club for other Doms who have been with her. She likes to take things slow. Nora always meets a few times and chats before committing to a scene. It makes sense if she’s got a sensory disorder. She wants to make sure they can accommodate her needs.
Her cheeks flush with a beautiful pink hue, and she pulls away to look up at me. “I don’t want to go slow.”
I grind my teeth, not because I’m frustrated. But because I’m trying to contain the hard rod between us. I didn’t come here expecting an evening with Nora to proceed past talking. But now that she’s being forward, it’s all I’ll be able to think about. Her soft hands wrapped around my shaft while she takes in the tip, swirling her tongue around the slit of my erection.
I nod, grabbing her hand. “Let’s go up into one of the empty rooms,” I say.
Nora nods. She finishes the rest of her drink, then stands to follow me. I take her hand in mine as we hed for the executive rooms.
Nora stands beside me as I use my keycard to open up the room I’ve booked for us. The flashing light turns from green to red, showing that it’s in use. I open the door and grab her hand, pulling her inside with me.
All of the executive rooms in Sunsets are designed the same. Green light means clean and ready to use. Red means in use.
The overhead lights are dimmed and red, illuminating the room. A large bed in the middle with black satin sheets. The comforters are soft and gray. At the foot of the bed is a chest filled with extra bedding and sheets. This establishment has a bring your own toys policy, but Nora and I won’t need those tonight. Tonight is about getting comfortable with each other.
On one side of the room is a leather couch, and the other has a room off to the side with a toilet and shower. Nora swallows, standing beside me. I glance at her, taking in her tight dress. It’s black and a size too small, so her tits are begging to pop out.
“Should we start with what I should call you?” She asks, dropping her gaze to her feet. She folds her hands behind her back. The Doms I’ve spoken with said she was a compliant submissive, and I can see that now.
“We’re just talking, for now, Nora. You can look at me.”
