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He wagged his eyebrows. “The idea isn’t abhorrent to me, that’s for damn sure.”
Catherine grinned, but as she looked into his eyes, she sobered instantly. This was the moment. It was now or never. If she chose not to go through with it, would she regret it? That answer was obvious.
“I’ll try,” she said, her cheeks burning as the words came out of her mouth.
Dean leaned forward and kissed her gently. “Good girl,” he growled. “There’s one other thing I wanted to tell you before we go any further.”
“Oh?”
“I love you,” he blurted out as he pressed another kiss to her mouth. “I think I’ve loved you from the moment I saw your photo.”
Tears sprang to Catherine’s eyes. “I was so afraid,” she whispered, her throat suddenly feeling strangled.
Dean quirked a brow. “Afraid?”
“That I’d be the only one saying those three little words,” she admitted as she stared at him wondering if this was truly happening. If it was a dream, then it’d be cruel to wake her.
One corner of Dean’s lips curved upward. “Uh, you haven’t actually said them yet.”
She took his face in her hands and said, “I love you too. I don’t know how it happened and I have no clue how we’re going to make this work, but I love you.”
“We will make it work though,” he said, his voice brooking no argument, “because I’m not giving you up. No matter what happens, Catherine, you belong to me.” He looked far too serious when he added, “Remember that later.”
Catherine was confused, but when Dean stood and brought her with him, she forgot about everything else. All that mattered was that she was with Dean. It was their last night together, and she wanted it to be perfect.
“In the bedroom,” he ordered as he stood back and waited for her to precede him.
Catherine took a deep breath and headed toward the other end of the house. She could feel Dean’s gaze on her, and it fueled the inferno burning inside her. When Catherine reached his room, she turned and awaited Dean’s orders. Or rather, her master’s orders, she thought as the tension in the room seemed to grow.
Without saying a word, Dean stripped out of his clothes. His movements weren’t meant to be sexy, but Catherine took in the yummy show all the same. His strong chest, ripped abs, and the heavy weight between his muscular thighs. Every inch of him was superb, and Catherine practically drooled as she stared. When he slipped on a black silk robe, Catherine wanted to protest at not having full access to his scrumptious body.
The soft material should have made him seem less forbidding, but it didn’t. The hard body was still plenty lickable, just as the look in Dean’s brown eyes was as frightening as it was stimulating. His imposing manner made Catherine feel utterly insignificant in comparison. The wicked-looking leather riding crop he picked up off the bed and held loosely at his side seemed to emphasize his wild masculinity, and sent her nerves rioting.
She was the submissive and he the master; that was the game they were to play. She’d read the chapters of the book he’d indicated, and they’d turned her on. She knew the idea. Leave Catherine Michaels, website designer and good Southern girl, at the door. In here, she was required to experience pleasure, the kind that only Dean, as her master, could bring about.
Catherine wished she’d had more time to prepare herself, but she knew that if she had, she would’ve lost her nerve. Given time to think, she never would’ve said yes to the game. When she thought of it, Catherine was grateful she hadn’t let her brain talk her out of something she knew deep down she was going to enjoy.
Amazing, Catherine thought. It hadn’t been that long ago that she’d been sittin
g in her parents’ safe and cozy house, going through mail and wondering when some handsome rogue was going to ride in and take her away from it all. Well, he had, more or less, and Catherine had fallen head over heels for him. So much so that she was ready to be his sex slave for a night.
“Take off your clothes.”
Dean’s quiet demand brought her back to the present and soothed her frazzled nerves a measure.
“I don’t think so, bud,” she said, as she recalled the way the scene had played out in the book he’d given her. “What makes you think I’m willing to undress for you?”
For a second, Catherine could see the surprise in Dean’s dark eyes. He quickly recovered and said, “I never repeat the commands.”
His voice didn’t rise above a hoarse whisper. It was clear he felt in total control, of his body and hers, Catherine realized.
“That’s too bad, because I have no intention of taking off my clothes.” She crossed her arms over her chest and stuck her nose in the air, getting into the game a little more now.
Dean stepped forward, and instinctively Catherine stepped back. He smiled as he saw her retreat, but he never wavered. Too quickly, he stood close enough that her breasts touched his chest. The contact caused a shiver to run through her. In fear or anticipation? Suddenly she didn’t know. Maybe both. Who knew Catherine Michaels had a penchant for the kinkier side of sex?
Still, as she took in the fact she was alone with a man much more experienced at bedroom games, Catherine wondered if maybe she’d bitten off more than she could chew. Maybe she should’ve told him no when he’d asked her to read the book. But if she had, then she would never know if she would like being at his mercy. Knowing beat not knowing every time.
The dark, rough stubble on Dean’s chin looked sexy as hell. His hair, a rich shade of espresso, swirled over his brow and just barely reached the collar of the black robe. His nose was a little crooked, she noticed, as if it’d been broken at some point, but somehow it only added to his appeal. His eyes . . . oh, wow. His eyes were devastatingly dark, and they were devouring her at the moment. No, Dean’s face and body wouldn’t win any GQ awards, he was too hard and rough for that, but she would bet her bottom dollar that women flocked to him in droves. He could have his pick. The predatory sort of alpha male no woman would ever want to tie herself to permanently but wouldn’t mind tumbling around with in the heat of the night. At least once. Had he played these games with them? Catherine swiftly scrubbed the thought from her mind, unwilling to go down that murky road.
