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“Hi,” she stuck out her hand. “I’m Josslyn.”
Ilias looked at her, his gaze snagging on her breasts. Josslyn very intentionally hadn’t pulled the sweater closed over her chest, and the way he looked at her made her blood heat.
He shook himself and sat up. “Ilias.” They shook hands, and Josslyn didn’t bother to hide her grin.
“Can I ask a question?” she said.
“You don’t need my permission.” He frowned as if worried she was still in a submissive headspace.
“I wasn’t actually asking permission. No matter what you said, I was going to ask the question.”
“Ah. In that case…” He gestured with one hand.
“Is Ben your first name? Ben Ilias?”
He blinked, clearly surprised. “No. Ilias is my first name. My last name is actually Bennani. People have trouble pronouncing it.” He spelled it for her. “I get Beny, or Ben-annie.”
“Bennani.” She carefully repeated it.
He raised a brow. “And you would be able to remember how to pronounce it if I had you on the knife’s edge of pleasure and pain?”
Josslyn held up her hand. “No fair saying sexy things if we’re supposed to be having a regular conversation. But if I’m too…” She had to pause to choose word. “… distracted.”
Ilias smiled, a quick and fleeting thing. She started over.
“If I’m too distracted, I probably wouldn’t manage ‘Master Ben’ either. I’d just default to ‘Sir’ or ‘Master.’ You have a gorgeous name. You should use it.”
“I’m not going to go by Master Ilias. Did you know that’s how they used to address young British boys?”
Josslyn laughed. “Fair point.”
Ilias studied her. “Do you want a drink?”
“Sure.”
He went to the bar placing their order with the sub who was playing bartender. He returned a few minutes later with their drinks—a glass of wine for him, whiskey with a splash of water for her.
“Beesha.” He clicked his glass to hers.
“Cheers.”
They each took a sip, then she said, “Beesha? Am I pronouncing that right?”
“Yes. My parents are from Morocco. It’s what you say before you eat or drink. Sort of like a combination of cheers and bon appétit.”
“Knowing how to toast, or what to say before drinking, in every language, is a personal goal.”
“And how many do you know so far?” Ilias asked.
“No idea, because most of the time when I learn a new term, I then proceed to drink and my brain fails to retain the information.”
Ilias’s laugh was warm and rich. Again, she got that little thrill. That feeling that she’d accomplished something.
They drank in companionable silence for a few minutes before she gave in. “Okay, Ilias. I’m dying of curiosity. What else is on our list?”
His expression sobered. “We have a good number of items. Not as many as S, which is why we’re the only two assigned to this particular letter, but there are two items on our list that are…problematic.”
“So, hard limit items?”
