said, removing his boots. Her sneakers looked tiny beside his.
As the dog curled up on a pile of blankets in the corner, Logan pointed to the couch. “Sit there, sugar.” The leather couch sank under her weight, trapping her in softness. She glanced around, noting the TV had been concealed behind a lush tapestry. Logan definitely liked his comforts with the cushy chairs and couch, the deeply plush rug in front of the fireplace.
When classical baroque music drifted through the room, Rebecca blinked. This hard-faced mountain guy liked Bach? After stirring the coals in the fireplace, he tossed on more kindling and a big log.
“Beer, scotch, screwdriver, or wine?” he asked.
“A screwdriver, please.” The healthy orange juice surely compensated for unhealthy alcohol, right?
He crossed the room into the kitchen silently, like a large animal, and darned if she didn't feel like prey. She edged over to the corner of the couch. Pulling her legs up to her chest, she wrapped her arms around her knees and tried to watch the fire. Didn't work. Had she gone insane?
Of course, he was gorgeous, in a rather scary Vin Diesel sort of way. And she was a healthy female…who had just refused to go to bed with any number of willing men and instead let this man lead her up here. Not that he'd really asked. But her mind kept telling her she'd gone nuts.
“That's a very defensive position.”
Her eyes jerked up to see him looming over her. Her stomach did that fluttery thing again, and she swallowed. “No, it's comfortable. I—”
“Rebecca,” he interrupted. He set her drink down on the coffee table rather than handing it to her. Putting a finger under her chin, he tilted her head up. His eyes were gray in the bright lights, his jaw stern. “Try again, and give me the truth this time.”
The quivering inside her increased, and her mouth went dry. But she raised her chin. “I… Yes. It's defensive. I'm rather nervous, okay?”
His smile was warm and approving, and why something so simple should make her feel good inside didn't make sense. Dammit, she'd always seen herself as strong. Confident. How did he have this effect on her?
Pulling her legs down with firm hands, he stripped her of her defensive position. She resisted long enough to get a sharp look, and then let him have his way. Damned if she knew why.
To her surprise, rather than setting her feet on the floor, he left her legs outstretched on the couch. Then he sat down on the edge of the couch next to her hips, leaving her no room to scoot away. Her corner had turned into a trap. A glint of amusement appeared in his eyes, and then he handed her the screwdriver.
She took a few hefty swallows to ease the dryness in her mouth.
“Enjoy it, since that's all the alcohol you get tonight.”
“Why?”
“So you have a clear head.”
She looked up to catch him regarding her thoughtfully.
“I'm going to show you more about dominance and submission tonight,” he said.
“Excuse me?” she said slowly.
“Oh, you heard me.” He ran a finger down her cheek. “And you're interested, although you don't think you should be.”
Her mouth opened, but she couldn't deny it. She could feel her heart thudding loudly, loud enough she hoped he couldn't hear it. A brief hope, since he trailed his fingers down her neck to rest on her pulse there. His eyes crinkled.
She licked her lips. “So what does this”—saying the actual words would make them way too real—“stuff involve?”
“It's easy enough, little one.” His fingers slipped open the buttons on her shirt until it gaped open. When she lifted her hands to close it, he growled, “Don't move.”
She froze.
His smile warmed. “That's how it works, Rebecca. I tell you what to do, and you do it. Very basic.”
“Wh-what if I don't want to do what you say?”
“Good question.” His gaze on her face,
As the dog curled up on a pile of blankets in the corner, Logan pointed to the couch. “Sit there, sugar.” The leather couch sank under her weight, trapping her in softness. She glanced around, noting the TV had been concealed behind a lush tapestry. Logan definitely liked his comforts with the cushy chairs and couch, the deeply plush rug in front of the fireplace.
When classical baroque music drifted through the room, Rebecca blinked. This hard-faced mountain guy liked Bach? After stirring the coals in the fireplace, he tossed on more kindling and a big log.
“Beer, scotch, screwdriver, or wine?” he asked.
“A screwdriver, please.” The healthy orange juice surely compensated for unhealthy alcohol, right?
He crossed the room into the kitchen silently, like a large animal, and darned if she didn't feel like prey. She edged over to the corner of the couch. Pulling her legs up to her chest, she wrapped her arms around her knees and tried to watch the fire. Didn't work. Had she gone insane?
Of course, he was gorgeous, in a rather scary Vin Diesel sort of way. And she was a healthy female…who had just refused to go to bed with any number of willing men and instead let this man lead her up here. Not that he'd really asked. But her mind kept telling her she'd gone nuts.
“That's a very defensive position.”
Her eyes jerked up to see him looming over her. Her stomach did that fluttery thing again, and she swallowed. “No, it's comfortable. I—”
“Rebecca,” he interrupted. He set her drink down on the coffee table rather than handing it to her. Putting a finger under her chin, he tilted her head up. His eyes were gray in the bright lights, his jaw stern. “Try again, and give me the truth this time.”
The quivering inside her increased, and her mouth went dry. But she raised her chin. “I… Yes. It's defensive. I'm rather nervous, okay?”
His smile was warm and approving, and why something so simple should make her feel good inside didn't make sense. Dammit, she'd always seen herself as strong. Confident. How did he have this effect on her?
Pulling her legs down with firm hands, he stripped her of her defensive position. She resisted long enough to get a sharp look, and then let him have his way. Damned if she knew why.
To her surprise, rather than setting her feet on the floor, he left her legs outstretched on the couch. Then he sat down on the edge of the couch next to her hips, leaving her no room to scoot away. Her corner had turned into a trap. A glint of amusement appeared in his eyes, and then he handed her the screwdriver.
She took a few hefty swallows to ease the dryness in her mouth.
“Enjoy it, since that's all the alcohol you get tonight.”
“Why?”
“So you have a clear head.”
She looked up to catch him regarding her thoughtfully.
“I'm going to show you more about dominance and submission tonight,” he said.
“Excuse me?” she said slowly.
“Oh, you heard me.” He ran a finger down her cheek. “And you're interested, although you don't think you should be.”
Her mouth opened, but she couldn't deny it. She could feel her heart thudding loudly, loud enough she hoped he couldn't hear it. A brief hope, since he trailed his fingers down her neck to rest on her pulse there. His eyes crinkled.
She licked her lips. “So what does this”—saying the actual words would make them way too real—“stuff involve?”
“It's easy enough, little one.” His fingers slipped open the buttons on her shirt until it gaped open. When she lifted her hands to close it, he growled, “Don't move.”
She froze.
His smile warmed. “That's how it works, Rebecca. I tell you what to do, and you do it. Very basic.”
“Wh-what if I don't want to do what you say?”
“Good question.” His gaze on her face,
Similar Books
Father With the Naughty Bride
Valerie J Aurora
The Chocolate Mouse Trap
JoAnna Carl
Mail Order Menage
Leota M Abel
The Servant's Heart
Missouri Dalton
Blackwater Sound
James W. Hall
The Beautiful Visit
Elizabeth Jane Howard
A Crossworder's Holiday
Nero Blanc
Emily Hendrickson
The Scoundrels Bride
Indigo Moon
Gill McKnight
Titanium Texicans
Alan Black