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I understand. “Thank you.”
“I hope to see you again soon. The classes are on weeknights, beginning at eight thirty. We close at eight.”
“I’ll look into it. Thanks again.”
I leave the store, clutching my bag.
I’m freaking out more than a little over the fact that I’m thinking about attending a BDSM class.
And liking the idea.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Jackson
“Hey,” Mandy says into the phone when I call her a third time.
“Where have you been? I left you two voicemails.”
“Sorry. I had my phone on silent while I was working out this afternoon, and I forgot to put it back on. What’s up?”
“Oh…nothing.”
“For Christ’s sake, Jackson. You called me three times for nothing?”
I clear my throat. “Where are you?”
“Walking to the subway. I just got done doing some shopping.”
“Great. Can you meet me for dinner?”
“I don’t know, Jackson.”
“You’ve got to eat.”
She sighs. “I guess Iampretty hungry. I haven’t eaten since that smoothie I had with you this morning.”
“Why don’t I swing by your place and pick you up?”
“Sure. I’ll be ready.”
“Great. See you in about an hour.”
…
My jaw drops when Mandy opens her door. I even ignore Roger, which I never do.
No. Mandy is totallynotwearing a black-and-blue corset. Absolutely not. Not my Mandy Cake.
Except she looks completely gorgeous. Her tits are pushed up by black lace, and the blue brings out the lovely color of her eyes. I’m instantly hard.
“Cat got your tongue?” she asks dryly.
“What the hell isthat, Mandy?”
“I think it’s called a corset. Or a bustier. I’m not quite sure of the difference.”
A corset cinches, while a bustier boosts. But I’m not about to tell her that. She’ll want to know how I know.
