Free At Mr. Cartwright's Command by Ingrid Ash

get rid of those jeans I don't want to see you in them around the house again.”
    Now this is getting ridiculous , I think. But I don't protest.
    “You don't call me, text me, or come to me unless it's an urgent, life or death issue.  And you respond as soon as I request your presence.”
    I freeze and jab the plate with my fork.  My frustration shows now.  Mr. Cartwright observes this and I see that wicked twinkle in his eyes as his the sides of his lips twitch.  He's enjoying this.  I quickly soften my features and smile.  “That's fine.  Whatever you say.”
    His eyes narrow.  “You can come and go as you wish, but if you leave you don't come back.”
    I continue to smile, but it's getting harder now.
    “And we have sex on a daily basis.”
    My eyes grow round and I'm not sure if I should be scandalized or turned on by that.
    “Do you have a problem with any of the things I just I said.”
    I purse my lips and shake my head, against my better judgment.
    “Tamara, I don't like liars,” he replies sternly.
    “Okay. It's a little bit ...over the top don't you think?”
    He looks confused.  “Which part?”
    Um, all of it?   “The part where...I mean, I can never leave the house? Really?”
    “It's a pretty nice house...”
    Well, that's an understatement.  “I'm not denying that.”
    “Then what's the problem? You can go in the backyard, I'll allow you that.”
    What the fuck does he think I am, a dog? Is he going to take me for a walk too?  “Well, thank you for that measure of generosity,” I reply sarcastically, “but what I mean is leaving the premises.”
    His brows narrow.  “What would you want to leave for?”
    I plant my face in hand as this is all becoming more and more frustrating.  “I mean...there's a whole world outside and plenty of things I'd like to do to keep my mind occupied.  Hobbies, volunteering...”
    He nods thoughtful and says, “Alright, fine. Eventually you'll be granted those privileges.  If, and only if, you prove that I can trust you again.”  His eyes are dark and pointed.
    “Alright,” I whisper.  
    “Wonderful. So we agree on everything.”
    “Well what about my input?”
    He blinks at me.  “What would you like to add, then?”
    I shrug.  “There are lots of things.”
    He laughs a little.  “Alright. Shoot.”
    “No more of that bondage crap.”
    He laughs a lot.  “No deal. Plus, you loved it,” he says darkly.  Well, he isn't entirely wrong.
    “You have to take off your clothes when we have sex.”
    This one seemed to throw him for a loop. “I...what?”
    “You're always fully clothed and you need to stop that.”
    His lips curl into a mischievous crooked smile.  “We'll see.”
    “I'll let you tie me up,” I say seductively.
    He looks at me and I see his bottom lip get lost between his teeth.  “I'm going to tie you up anyways.”
    Shit, do I have any bargaining chips here?  Regardless, that threat has me kind of hot...
    “You have to compromise on something.”
    “I've never compromised on anything and I'm not about to start.”
    “This isn't a business deal.”
    “Yes.  Yes it is.”
    “I'm a person, not a contract.  I expect to be treated like one.”
    “Then put something reasonable on the table and I'll seriously consider it.”
    “Really, what the hell is so unreasonable about me asking you to take your damn shirt off?”
    “Good lord, fine. If it's that important to you.”
    I smile.  It's pretty insignificant, but it's something.
    He raises and eyebrow and asks, “Is that all?”
    No. There's so much more, but I won't push things right now.  “For now,” I say.
    “Good,” he replies as he loosens his tie.  “Because I am ready for dessert.”
    “Well I personally am stuffed,” I say as I push my plate away from me.  “May I be excused?” I ask, jokingly.
    “Absolutely not,” he says with dark, heavy lidded eyes.
    “Why?”
    “Because, like I said, I'm ready for my dessert.”
    Oh. Well I