Free The Dom With the Perfect Brats by Leia Shaw, Cari Silverwood, Sorcha Black Page B

with an evil smirk. She almost laughed. She traded the picture of Sean for Cross. Yeah. That fit better.
    Cross removed his hand from her thigh, the cold spot snapping her back to attention. She found him studying her, his expression pensive. “He wanted you to tie him up,” he stated, as if he knew it for a fact. She didn’t bother to confirm. “I see. It didn’t go well, did it?”
    “No,” she managed to mumble through her embarrassment.
    “That’s because you’re not a Top.”
    “Top?”
    “To answer your question, yes, I am a Dominant. It means I like to be in charge. It’s part of my personality. It’s who I am inside the bedroom and out. But I understand your hesitation. That experience had to be confusing for you.”
    She shrugged. “A little.”
    “I want you to know, Gemma, I would never push you or Izzy past what you can handle.”
    “I don’t ...I don’t want...” What didn’t she want? She wasn’t sure anymore. “I don’t want to do that stuff. Handcuffs and whips and whatever.”
    “That’s the kind of stuff I do, sweetheart. Sort of. But I think you’re wrong. I think you do want to do it and your bad experience is holding you back.”
    That hit a nerve. “So what if it is? It’s not the only way to have sex.”
    “Of course not.” He leaned toward her. “But you don’t strike me as the type to run away from a challenge. You’re not the type to keep yourself from trying something new just because it scares you.”
    He was right, but damned if she’d admit it. Though she didn’t know exactly how it worked, rough sex had always intrigued her. Being pinned to a wall, little bites on her neck and ears, a hand in her hair... She gave her head a shake. That path would lead straight to sopping wet underwear. Or maybe she’d jump Cross in an alley. She stifled a nervous laugh.
    “I know you liked it when I tied you to Izzy the other night. I saw it in your eyes. And you flushed when I mentioned training bratty girls.”
    She gazed at him in shock. She could feel the heat rise to the surface of her skin.
    “Like you are right now.” He chuckled.
    Anger speared her again. Who did this guy think he was? She felt unbalanced near him – a little fuzzy, a little like she wanted to rub up against him. Ugh! Focus!
    “Anyway,” she said, wiping her sweaty hands on her shorts again, “there’s the message. Izzy said if you wanted to take her out on a date, she’s free Saturday.”
    It was already Thursday. She wasn’t generally the jealous type but a little twinge of hurt settled in her belly. How would sharing him work exactly? Would they rotate spending time with him?
    “I don’t want to take her on a date,” he said evenly.
    “You don’t?”
    He shook his head. “I want both of you to meet me at my apartment this Saturday night at seven.”
    She leaned back and gave him an appraising eye. “What for?”
    “I’m going to cook you dinner.”
    Dinner? Cross the Dom was going to cook them dinner? For some reason she pictured giant steaks and buckets of ale. She giggled. He wasn’t a Viking , but she couldn’t see him wearing an apron and oven mitts either. But a man who could cook? Who in their right mind would turn that down?
    She smiled. “Okay. I’ll tell Izzy.”
    “Good.” He nodded. “I’m looking forward to it.”
    It took a moment, and a smirk from Cross, for her to realize she was grinning at him like an idiot.
    “Uhh,” she stammered. “I should get back to work.”
    “Me too.” He stood then plucked the iPod off his shirt and stuffed it in his jeans pocket.
    “What were you listening to anyway?” In her head, he liked heavy metal. Or maybe classic rock.
    He hesitated, assessing her as if he were deciding whether he could trust her. “Choral music.”
    Well, that wasn’t what she expected. She shrugged. To each his own. No one would know by looking at her, but she had a thing for bluegrass. “Cool.”
    His forehead crinkled the tiniest bit as he