pleasure than pain.
Damn Elisabeth. “You wanted this all along. You purposely disobeyed me, during what could have been a wonderful evening together, just to get hit with my riding crop?” Smack.
“It wasn’t premeditated, sir,” she gasped as he struck her again. “I just have a tendency to be naughty to get punishments. I’m sorry.”
Smack.
“I like them too much, I know.” She turned her head to look at him, unshed tears glistening in her eyes, and he threw the riding crop to the ground.
“You could have just asked me,” he whispered. “If you told me that you thought the crop was hot and you wanted to know what it felt like, then you can be sure it would appear the next time we made love. But I need a woman who will obey me, especially when it comes to her own safety.”
“I’m sorry, sir.” She lowered her hands and smoothed her hair, looking beautiful as always but not like she truly understood how important this was to him.
“If you were really sorry, you’d stop bratting for punishments like you used to do with Gregory, and be open with me about your needs instead. Communication, right?”
“Right, sir.”
“This sort of thing, Elisabeth.” He gestured at the horses, at her. “It’s a deal breaker for me. I’ve already been in a relationship where no one told the other what we needed to be happy. I’ve tried it. It doesn’t work. And I’m sure as hell not going to do it again.”
“And I’ve given everything I had to offer to the one person in the world who was meant to love me back—my mother. Only to have my heart broken. And as you so delicately put it,” she said, pulling her top back on, “I’m sure as hell not going to do it again, not with anyone.”
L ater that night Elisabeth left the Pink Room and padded down the hallway to Trevor’s room. She knocked softly, not wanting to wake him. No answer.
The door creaked when she opened it, but it didn’t wake Trevor, who lay in bed half-naked, his muscular torso tangled in his sheet.
What would happen if she climbed in bed with him? The thought was enticing. Being wrapped in his strong arms would do a lot to make her feel better about what happened earlier. She’d been stupid to ignore him when he was looking out for her best interests.
And he was stupid for thinking that the threat of a riding crop on her skin was a threat at all. He’d rewarded her for her misbehavior.
Men. They had it all backward—just as backward as this relationship.
G regory opened the door to his apartment and greeted Andrew with a kiss on the cheek. As soon as he came inside, Gregory closed the door and Andrew dropped to his knees, bowing to kiss the toe of his boot.
So. Fucking. Cute.
“How was it at the club, today?”
“Good, sir,” Andrew replied, shifting into a sitting position right there on the floor. “Haven’t seen your girl and the BAD Boys around lately, though.”
That was probably a good thing. But Gregory would have to check up on Elisabeth soon anyway to make sure everything was all right.
“Come. Let’s go sit in the living room, where we can make ourselves comfortable,” Gregory said, snapping his fingers like he used to do for Elisabeth. “Sorry, old habits die hard.”
“I like it.” Andrew stood and followed him down the hall. To the left was the living room, to the right, the bedroom.
“I knew there was a reason I picked you.”
“Picked me for what?”
Gregory stopped him with a hand on Andrew’s lean chest and dipped his head down, his lips barely brushing Andrew’s. The boy tasted like ChapStick, which tasted so good right then Gregory felt like going out and buying stock in the company. Or maybe just buying a tube of it so he could taste Andrew all the time.
“Where are you, color-wise, cutie?” Gregory asked. He wanted to play, but playing his way involved very express consent up front.
“Green, sir.” As if to prove his point, Andrew stood on his tiptoes and kissed Gregory back,
Legs McNeil, Jennifer Osborne, Peter Pavia