Free Naughty Bits Part II: The Training Session by Joey W. Hill

about the proper use and care of whips.”
    “Who did you use as your victim, if Troy wasn’t there to eagerly volunteer?”
    His lazy gaze slid over her face, to her throat, her breasts, her hips. He didn’t make any pretense of not looking where he wanted to look, any time he wanted to do so. Rather than finding it offensive, she found it incredibly stimulating. “Stop that,” she said for form’s sake. “You’re trying to make me forget the question.”
    “Nope. I just don’t divide my attention when I’m enjoying a good long look at you. That’s a new outfit.”
    She’d decided to borrow from her inventory today, wearing a pleather zippered vest that molded to her upper body and offered deep cleavage. Each day she was a little more confident and daring in her clothing choices. She’d put the vest together with latex leggings and calf boots. To ensure she didn’t scare away the Mrs. Gradys of the world, she’d worn a ruffled scarf that screened the cleavage and a short skirt that didn’t show how the latex molded her ass and the crease of her sex. As a result of being the live model, she’d sold a couple versions of the outfit today. She was already planning future ensembles to inspire more sales.
    “You like it?”
    “I like anything you wear. But I’d like it better without the scarf and the skirt.” His gaze swept over them, as if he already knew how revealing the vest and latex were without the outer layers. “A private viewing. It’s hard enough hearing how the men talk about you after they leave their wives or girlfriends at your store.”
    “Jealous?”
    “Make a move toward any of them and you’ll find out,” he said. Her heart pattered a little higher in her throat. “Take off the scarf.”
    Even out here, in the late afternoon sunshine, he could make her feel as if the walls closed in, holding her still for him. “You still haven’t answered my question,” she hedged, to see if she could resist him. Or what he would do if she did.
    “What was the question?”
    He was teasing her. Even so, she sniffed, indulged him. “Who helped you do the demo at the club?”
    “One of the staff subs. A pretty blonde, all naked and oiled up so she was slippery to the touch.” He caught the ends of the scarf before she could draw back. “And she still didn’t make me half as hard as you did, showing up all big-eyed and unsure, wondering what I might do to Troy . . . and you.”
    “You’re too overwhelming,” she complained. Thanks to the tug on the scarf, their bodies had barely a hand’s span between them. “Overwhelming men tend to be unreliable.”
    “No. The men you’ve known tend to be unreliable. I’m different. Take it off.”
    He could take it off himself, but her obeying was part of what was spiraling between them. She didn’t want to analyze how she understood that or why she removed it the way she did, pulling it slowly from her throat, lifting her chin as the silk-cotton blend caressed her skin. When she had it in both hands, lowered to her waist, he hooked the tab of the zipper in the vest, tugged it down enough so the cleavage became deeper, revealing the lace joining point of the black bra beneath. He slid his knuckles into that valley, then up to follow her throat, tip up her chin. His face was close enough to make the possibility of being kissed excruciatingly inevitable. She played with a strand of his hair that had come loose from where he’d tied it back. “Have you always worn it long?”
    “No.” His breath smelled like the free wintergreen mints he kept by his cash register. “Alice wanted me to grow it out long for you. She said you thought only a certain man could carry that off, but when he did, you really liked it. She convinced me I could carry it off. When it was too short to be tied back, but long enough to be in my way, she’d come over, have me sit on a stool and brush it back, run her fingers through it, tell me it was a crime for a man to have