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“I’d like to make your Christmas wishes come true.”
“Honestly? You already have. The corset, this gift, the coffees, your help…the way you’ve been taking care of me?” She exhaled. “This time, I’d like to makeyourChristmas wish come true. Is there something particular you enjoy here?”
He didn’t hesitate. “My favorite is the doctor’s office.”
Abigail sucked in the tiniest breath. “I’ve never…” She struggled for the right word.
“Been so exposed?”
“That’s a good way to put it.” Even though the club didn’t allow nudity outside of the private rooms, very few people were in attendance, and there were workarounds to everything. No doubt he intended to be creative.
“If it’s too much for you…”
It probably wouldn’t matter what she selected. He wasn’t the type of man to be satisfied unless she revealed all her secrets.
Was she really going to surrender to his masculine power?
Would she be tormented with what-ifs if she didn’t? “I’m willing to try it.”
His eyes darkened, and he leaned toward her a little, stealing some of her personal space. “Is there anything I need to be aware of before we start?”
Knowing how critical it was to be transparent when negotiating a scene, she resisted the impulse to pull away. “It’s been a while for me.”
“We’ll go at your pace.”
Slowly she nodded.
“What’s your safe word? And one for slow?”
“I like to stick with the usual.” The ones the club’s DMs also enforced. “Red and yellow.”
“If you don’t mind, my charming submissive, I’ll save the rest of my questions until we’re in the exam room.”
Abigail sucked in a breath that she didn’t immediately exhale. He truly was masterful. They weren’t in the dungeon, and he was already exerting a little Dominance over her.
“Ready?”
“Yes.” This time, with a whisper, she added the word she knew he wanted. “Sir.”
He smiled, his expression so delighted and genuine that she wanted to please him even more and more.
After they stood, a server hurried over. Hayes asked her to save the pastries, saying they’d need a snack in an hour or so, along with fresh beverages. Then he requested a bottle of water for Abigail.
That handled, he stood, and she slipped her hand into the one he offered.
“Pick up the crop, please, Abigail.”
Her hand trembled as she followed his instruction.
As was becoming a habit, he placed his hand against her back as they left the bar. But this time, his palm was a little lower, his fingers splayed wider, as if marking her as his.
They walked down the hallway to the entrance to Kinky Avenue, the space in the club that Mistress Aviana had devoted to various role-play fantasies. Each space was partitioned off, creating a greater theatrical effect. At times rooms changed, but a few seemed to be perennial favorites. One thing they all had in common: implements to add to the reality of the scene.
The schoolroom had a couple of desks with chairs attached, a blackboard, books, pens, paper, scissors, crayons, even a wicked-looking selection of canes.
Hayes stopped at the doctor’s office and extended his hand, waiting for her to go in first.
As she looked around, her mouth dried.
