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What was she doing? Was this the stupidest thing she’d ever done? No, that had probably been her very short and ill-advised punk-rock band phase. This was totally different. She was pursuing her dreams. This was what she’d been taught to do. When she wanted something, she went after it. She loved painting so she was pursuing it in the only way she knew how. She wanted independence so she’d turned her back on the family money.
She wanted Sebastian and that meant she had to get close to him.
Damn, she needed some lip gloss. Her skin was a tad on the pale side, a fact she attributed to spending too much time worried about the light for her paintings and getting no sunlight for her own self. She happened to know that she and Sebastian had a balcony at Chef’s apartment that would be perfect for catching a few rays, and she’d bought a bikini she hoped would make Sebastian’s mouth water.
How were the girls? She readjusted. Sometimes her nipples went a little crazy when they got in the bra and one would point north and the other southeasterly. If those headlights were coming on, she wanted them pointed directly at her target.
Target made him sound like she was going to do something bad to him. She wasn’t. She was doing this for him, too. Sebastian was lonely. He’d told her that night when she was fairly certain he thought she’d been too drunk to remember what he’d said.
Do you have any idea how long it’s been since I got to hold a woman? Damn, but you feel good in my arms, darlin’.
And then she’d thrown up because Chef wasn’t chintzy with the tequila.
Nipples aligned. Lip gloss on. She could do this. A little hair poof up and she was ready to go.
Did she smell good? Yes. She seemed to be okay. She wasn’t sure Sebastian would like perfume. It could ruin his nose. He talked about his nose a lot.
Maybe she should have learned more about wine. It was his obsession. All she knew was she liked it and she was fairly good at remembering his pairings. Chef’s pork chops Marsala went particularly well with a Pinot Noir. Sebastian liked to pair Top’s Oysters Rockerfeller with a Sauvignon Blanc.
But the menu at Top was about all she knew. And he was apparently crazy about champagne, but only certain champagnes because she’d overheard him telling Eric that Prosecco wasn’t champagne.
But it was bubbly so she didn’t get the difference.
She was overthinking this. All right. Back to basics. Nipples forward, mascara on, lips glossed. It was time.
She grabbed her bag and stepped out into her apartment where she found Sebastian and none of her luggage. “Uhm, where are the bags?”
He was frowning, his handsome face set in grim lines. “You were gone for twenty minutes. I had the time to load the car all by myself.”
He’d carried her heavy-ass bags down three flights of steps? No wonder he looked so pissed. She tried a bright smile on him. “Well, at least I’m leaving the easel and paints behind. Thank you so much for that. Sorry I’m late.”
“I think I explained that we needed to leave at two o’clock.”
The deep Dom voice was back. Damn it. She’d lost track of time and irritated him again. “I’m sorry, Sebastian. I promise I won’t keep us waiting any longer. I’ll lock up and we can head out of here.”
He eased his suit coat off, carefully folding it and laying it over her tiny breakfast bar. “I’m afraid you are going to delay us further. I like to begin as I mean to proceed. I was very specific with what time we would leave and I even went so far as to explain why we needed to leave at this time. You chose to disregard my order.”
“Your order?” What the hell was happening? He was rolling up his dress shirt sleeves, revealing ridiculously muscled forearms.
“Yes, Tiffany,” he continued in that dark but infinitely patient tone of his. “Perhaps I was too polite. I prefer to be polite, so let me explain a few things to you. We’re involved in a D/s relationship now. There might not be any sex, but I take it seriously all the same. I am the dominant partner. You are the submissive one. That means that I will carry your bags and ensure your peace and comfort. It means I’ll do my utmost to make sure you’re safe and cared for. And you’ll obey me. Now I’m not an unreasonable man. I certainly won’t dictate your life, though we will have a few rules pertaining to our cohabitation. Those will be in place to keep our relationship healthy and free of the drama that happens with so many others. I’ll listen to your concerns about the rules and attempt to make accommodations.”
He was pacing around, his eyes moving as though he was trying to find something.
“Accommodations? Rules? Uhm, I thought we were going to a couple of play parties and maybe we would scene a little.”
“Ah, so you weren’t really listening,” he said with a sigh that told her he was disappointed. He stopped at her kitchen table and pulled out one of her chairs. “How do you think we convince a highly intelligent man that we’re an experienced D/s couple if we don’t live as a D/s couple? Twenty-four seven.”
“No one’s twenty-four seven,” she said quickly, a little tingle of fear running through her. Well, perhaps not fear exactly. Or maybe she liked being the tiniest bit afraid. It was like she was reaching the crest of that first deep dive on a roller coaster. She knew it would be okay, but damn she also knew it would be a wild ride.
“Perhaps your friends aren’t, but I have some who are,” Sebastian corrected her. He turned the chair around so its seat faced her. “Some people live quite happily that way. Twenty-four seven doesn’t necessarily mean that the Dom is standing over the submissive all day. It simply means that he takes an interest in every part of her daily life. Chef and I decided this was the best way for the two of us to pull this off. You agreed to obey me.”
“I thought that was for the club.”
“We’re not going to the club more than once or twice before we have to start the training sessions with Milo Jaye,” he explained. A sense of calm seemed to have fallen over him, as though he’d made his decision and was perfectly at peace with it. “We’ll need to play privately. We’ll need to talk as well. I think daily sessions of some sort will likely meet the needs of the task Master Ian set before us. This will be very demanding, Tiffany. I’m not sure you thought this through as well as you should have. There’s still time. I can try to find someone else, but I do understand how convenient it will be for the two of us to be living together and working together. I like to think of it as a total immersion class. But if you want to change your mind, now is the time to do it. I can have a talk with Kelly from work. She’s planning on starting the training program soon, but perhaps one-on-one training will bring her up to speed.”
Kelly? New girl Kelly? Kelly, with the dark hair and a butt you could bounce a quarter off of? Yoga Kelly, who could put her foot behind her ear? No fucking way. “I’m fine with it, Sebastian. I mean, Sir. And I really am sorry I took so long. I’m ready now.”
He nodded. “I’m glad to hear that. We can get going after we settle the issue. Please pull your shorts down and place your palms flat on the seat. I’ll show you how wide I expect your legs to be. And from now on, I would prefer you greet me properly when I pick you up. I’ll expect you to let me in and then to sink to your knees and find a submissive position when we’ve been apart for more than a few hours. I’ll expect you to prepare dinner if we’re not going out. If I am the one greeting you at the end of a day, you can expect only a slightly different ritual. If you’ve worked and I have not, I will prepare a meal for you. I’ll have a glass of wine waiting and you may choose what we do that evening. I’m tough, but I’m not unfair.”
