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“What’s that?”
His green eyes sparkled with mischief and innuendo. “That as good as that dress looks on you, it’s going to look even better on the floor.”
My response was inhuman. A strangled-sounding cry as my face flamed and my heart leapt into my throat.
Archer just winked. “I do hope that wasn’t too presumptuous of me… babygirl. I’d hate to start this evening off on the wrong foot.”
It was presumptuous, but I was here for it. I didn’t mind… how could I? Every word out of his mouth was a fantasy come to life. And the fact that he’d topped it all off by calling me babygirl? He eased my nerves and fears with one word, claiming me at the same time, reminding me of our earlier agreement and reassuring me that it had indeed been real.
“Your feet are fine,” I breathed, not caring that my response was awkward and nonsensical. I didn’t care what I said. I only wanted to see what he would say next, and where the night would go.
“Did you leave work on time?” He questioned me with a raised brow, as if he was half hoping I would say no, and he would have to punish me for it.
For a moment I almost wished that that was the case. “Yes, Sir.”
“And did you take a long bath, wash your hair, have a glass of wine… and… shave?”
“Yes, Sir.” My heart felt as if it was pounding and yet not even beating all at once.
“Good girl.”
Oh god. My inner praise slut squealed in bliss. There it was. The words I lived for. They sounded even better coming from his lips. And I could tell from the expression on his face that he knew it too.
The waiter came and offered wine, but Archer ordered sparkling water for both of us. I knew what he was doing. Keeping us both clear-minded and sober so that we could play responsibly later. I appreciated that but another glass of wine, or preferably something even stronger would have helped to smooth my frazzled nerves. I said nothing though, remembering my role, reminding myself that he was in charge, counting my silence as an act of submission.
The waters came, in crystal goblets, each adorned with a paper-thin slice of lemon, and I sipped mine as he ordered for us. I tried to listen, but all I could do was stare into his eyes, and watch his sexy mouth, and then see the way the waitress, a buxom brunette stumbled all over herself just to take his order, never giving me so much as a cursory glance. Red-hot jealousy bubbled up inside me as she left.
“I saw that,” Archer said as she walked away.
“Saw what?”
“You shooting daggers at the waitress with your eyes. Jealousy isn't a good look on you.”
I blinked. I really thought I’d been stoic and expressionless, but apparently my face gave everything away.
How would you know? Your eyes were on her the whole time!I swallowed the retort, having no idea if it were true or not. The whole interaction felt like a blur. It probably hadn’t lasted more than two minutes, and the effect this man had on me… well, it was probably a good thing he'd nixed the alcohol because I already felt drunk around him.
“I’m… sorry?” I stuttered.
“Don’t let it happen again.” His eyes clouded, and I saw a darkness there, a possessiveness and a need to control that sent a shiver down my spine. And praise slut be damned, I couldn’t help but poke the beast.
“Seems like a double standard.”
“I beg your pardon?” He narrowed his eyes and leaned across the table. “What did you just say to me, babygirl?”
Danger. Danger. Danger, Will Robinson.
“Oh, come on. If the waiter had been male, and he had been looking at me the way she was looking at you…” I trailed off, not sure how to end my sentence, praying I wasn’t wrong in my assessment.
“I’d have him fired,” Archer finished succinctly. “But I wouldn’t blame you for it, and I don’t appreciate you blaming me.”
My mouth went dry. If I could have, I’d have kicked myself for messing up a night that was going perfectly, but Archer grabbed my hand across the table and held it. “Believe me when I say, Audrey, that I only have eyes for you, and if I didn't intend to be faithful, I wouldn’t have asked to be your Daddy.”
His gaze bore into me, demanding an answer.
I gave the only one I could. “Yes, Sir.”
“Yes, Daddy,” he corrected. “Assuming that's what you still want?”
