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Autumn patted her cleavage. “That’s me. Sub with trust issues. Please tell me you have control issues.”
His shoulders tightened, and he looked away. He took a sip of wine before facing her again, smiling, though the skin around his eyes was tight. “Massive control issues.”
“Excellent. For a second there I was worried we wouldn’t be enough of a stereotype.”
“Dodged that bullet.” He lifted his glass towards her in a toast.
Autumn took a sip, lips twitching in amusement, her panic fading, though really it shouldn’t have. Scening with him was a very bad idea.
They finished eating, conversation easy and just as flirty as before. She was having so much fun—though the word seemed inadequate—that when Daniel set down his glass and picked up the nearly forgotten envelope she was disappointed.
She didn’t want this little dinner date to end.
She was such a fucking idiot.
Daniel took a thin stack of papers from the folder, turning the packet to show her the front page, which had her picture on it. “A copy of your checklist. Do you remember what you put?”
“I only joined last year, so I think so, but I should also say that I’ve learned a lot about what I will and won’t do over the course of the year.”
“Really?” He flipped a few pages. “Well, then it’s a shame that you didn’t update your list before the game.”
“I would have, had I known the game was happening.”
“Ah, but then there’s no element of surprise.”
“I don’t like surprises. I doubt any member does. Lack of surprises is why we negotiate every moment of our scenes in advance.”
“Is that what you do?” He set the papers on his lap, focus on her. “Negotiate every moment?”
“That’s how it’s supposed to be done.”
“Come now, Autumn, you know there’s no one right way to play.”
“Don’t presume to lecture me.” For the first time real anger touched her words, and she could see from his body language that he was surprised by her calm, hard tone.
She looked away, taking a mental step back. The whole point of her membership here was to get away from the icy, risk-taking, disciplined person she was outside of here. When at Las Palmas she was supposed to be fun-loving Autumn, the person she’d been when she was younger, before bad relationships and a high stress job changed her. The sassy and dynamic version of herself that rarely saw the light of day anymore.
“Autumn.”
His voice was low and rang with command. Stiffly, she returned her gaze to the man, the stranger, across from her. Flirting didn’t make him any less a stranger, and she needed to remember that.
His gaze bore into hers, but his body was relaxed—a king totally in control, and confident on his throne. “I will presume to do far more to you than just lecture.”
Chapter 3
Damn he was a lucky Dom. His partner was hot and sassy and how thefuckhad he never seen her before?
Daniel watched Autumn’s body language, loving the way her shoulders squared even as she uncrossed and then re-crossed her legs. She was the very picture of pissed off, but also aroused, submissive.
She’d taken him by surprise with the ‘bat-shit’ comment, and just kept surprising him, in the best possible ways.
The announcement of the checklist game had certainly shocked the hell out of him. Assigned partners, assigned letters, all because the club overseers thought they’d gotten complacent? He didn’t need his sex life shaken up. BDSM was his outlet for a desperate, dark need for control. Anything that fucked with his ability to use BDSM as an outlet was risky.
The checklist game was wild and dramatic and he’d heard plenty of grumbling from among the Owners, Doms, and Masters who’d been standing near him during the all-club meeting.
He, it appeared, had gotten very lucky with Autumn.
They had chemistry. That had been apparent from the first words they exchanged, and he knew she felt it too.
