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The bravado drops from her voice. “I want you to do the things to me that the men in our family do to their women. Not the sex, of course. Or kissing. Nothing like that. Just the…”
“The what?” I keep my eyes fixed on the moon, pale above the treetops. “If you want something from me, you’re going to have to say it out loud. You’re going to have to ask me for it.”
If she wants it, she’s going to have to say it. I catch her reflection in the window. Still sexy. But the seductive game she was playing is over.
She’s pleading now. “The pain. I want to feel it.”
My heart drops. Finally, I turn to face her. “What do you mean?”
“You know what I mean.” Her eyes search mine.
Images flash in my mind. Beautiful, naked blonde women, kneeling in front of a bed. My belt against their ass. The sexy sounds they make as they cry out. I can’t picture her like this. I can’t do this to her.
She’s an innocent virgin, by choice, meant to be presented to her man in as pure of a state as she is now.
My boss’s daughter.
My responsibility.
Surely she’s not asking for what I’m imagining. She’s not even been with a man before. Why would that enter her mind? “Tell me what you want.”
“I want to turn off my mind for a while, leave my head. Focus on my body, on feelings, on…touch.” Her shaky gaze meets mine. “On being touched. But in the way women like to be touched in this family. I want to…play.”
Heat blasts through my body with that one look from her. I shake my head. “No. Absolutely not. I can’t do that.”
Playing is no game. She doesn’t know what she’s asking for.
“Can’t?” Her gaze cuts through me. “Or won’t.”
The challenge she’s given me hangs in the air between us.
“Both,” I say. “I can’t do that to you. And I won’t, either.”
“You’ve already spanked me.” She gives a delicate shrug of her shoulders. “Why not give me this?”
“Discipline spanking is one thing. And your clothes were on. What you’re asking for…” I shake my head. “It’s different.”
She looks up at me, those eyes, that face, those lips. “I know. That’s why I want it. Please.”
Why would she want me to make her feel pain? How much does she know about what goes on in a Bachman bedroom? Why me and why now?
“Tell me why.”
“No, sorry.” She looks down at her lap. “That’s private.”
“Private,” I echo back.
She looks up. “Mine. The reason. It belongs to me.”
I think it over and suddenly, I know. Her reasons can’t be much different than mine. I guess we have another thing in common.
“I get wanting to lose yourself in what we do. That is what you want, right? To get lost for a moment?” That’s why I participate so frequently. I think of Fire, the family’s kink club in Italy. “Look, if you still want this when we get to Italy, I can take you somewhere. The club. It’s an upscale place. You could wear a mask over your eyes. No one would need to know who you are.”
“I might try that. Thanks for the suggestion. But what I’m asking you for, I need it to happen here. In this room. Now.” She’s begging me. It’d be so easy. To tell her to strip. To have her kneel on the floor in front of me. To whip that beautiful ass of hers.
Way too easy.
It’s almost impossible, but I form the word “No,” one more time.
