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“It sounds kinky.”
“That’s because it is. Here’s how we’re going to play this game. You get ten slaps if you count. Twenty, if I count.”
“I don’t need two college degrees to figure out which one is the best option—”
“Keep up with the sass and it’ll be thirty.”
I gulp.
“What if I can’t make it up to ten?” I ask, worried.
“I’ll give you an incentive.”
“I’m afraid to ask.”
This guy is dangerous. I doubt I’ll be able to handle whatever he has up his sleeve.
“Remember what I said about pleasure and pain?” I nod. “I’ll angle your body so your pussy rests on this.” He cups the bulge between his legs and squeezes. “That’s your incentive to come hard for me.”
The devilish glee glaring in his eyes should come as a warning, but obviously, my pussy does all the thinking when I say, “Only ten, right?”
“I won’t ask for more.”
“What if I really don’t like it?” I ask.
“Everything stops.”
“Okay.”
“Strip. Keep only the bra and heels. Since we’re going out for dinner after I’m done perverting you, we don’t want your clothes to get wrinkled.”
“We’re going out for dinner after?!” I can’t hide my surprise.
“Of course,” he says. “Two people breaking bread is a healthy sign of a long-lasting friendship. Not to mention, you said you didn’t know anybody in LA. I figured you might not want to eat alone.”
“That’s so thoughtful of you.”
“That’s the kind of guy I am,” he says.
“I won’t have to eat alone for much longer. My best friend will be back tomorrow.”
“Does it mean you won’t have dinner with me anymore?”
“I’ll still have dinner with you,” I say with a laugh.
“I like the sound of that.” His boyish smile is disarming. “You’re making me wait!” He waves an impatient finger up and down the length of my body. “Every minute that ticks by is an extra slap.”
Good grief.
He’s back to being Beckett, the uncompromising ruler.
I undress under his lustful gaze.
“Let’s move over there.” He points near the window. “It’ll be more comfortable.”
He gets up and extends a hand.
I take it and he walks us both to the couch.
