Free Initiation (Master Class Book 1) by Sierra Cartwright Page B

and his boots. The cupcakes were nowhere in sight, and the entire kitchen had been cleaned up. She wondered how long he’d been awake or if he’d gotten back up after she’d gone to sleep. He had a cup of coffee in hand and was staring into the blazing fireplace.
    The fact that she was wearing only a sheet left her vulnerable and uncertain. Even though she had moved silently and stood there motionless, he turned his head in her direction.
    His features were set, jaw tight. He looked intense, brooding…and he stole her breath.
    “Are you always on guard?” she asked.
    “Occupational hazard,” he replied.
    “Complicated man.”
    “No. Very simple, actually. Awareness keeps you alive.”
    She shook her head. “You scare me a little.”
    “I scare myself.” Maybe from the weak morning sun, his eyes were lighter in color than they had seemed last night. “Join me,” he invited.
    Unable to resist, she walked toward him.
    He scooted over, and she sat next to him on the couch. The leather was warm from his body as well as the blazing fire, and she realized it had been a long time since she’d been this content.
    “Coffee?” He offered his cup.
    She took a sip and wrinkled her nose. “No sugar?”
    “You’re one of those,” he said.
    “Those?”
    “Amateurs,” he teased.
    “And no desire to become a pro.” But because she was chilled and the cup was steaming, she took a second sip.
    She liked sitting this close to him, enjoyed his scent, the reassurance of his masculine warmth.
    “Any ill effects?”
    “If you’re asking whether or not I hurt from the flogging…” She looked at him. “No. Surprisingly.”
    “Or the sex?”
    “I think I managed your monster-sized cock just fine, Mr. Powell.”
    “That you did.” He grinned. “And your ass?”
    “From your belt?” She was guessing that wasn’t what he was talking about.
    “From the reaming I gave it.”
    Unconsciously, she shifted. “It’s fine.”
    “I’ll keep that in mind.”
    “What?”
    “That you can take more. Do you need to get home?”
    “I usually run errands on Saturdays, but I have nothing pressing.”
    “There’s a small breakfast place just down the mountain. They specialize in skillet meals.” His eyes darkened. “I recommend you keep your strength up.”
    Jennifer regarded him over the rim of the cup. “Because…?”
    “There are toys in my bag. And I’m not done with you yet.”
    She squirmed, from fear, from anticipation.
    “How long do you need to get ready?”
    “Depends on whether or not there’s more of this high-octane coffee. If there is, I’ll be ready in two minutes.”
    “They have one of those cup brewers.”
    “There’s a God and he’s smiling down on us.” She returned his cup to him and wiggled off the couch.
    She took a step toward the kitchen, and the sheet stayed behind. Jennifer glanced over her shoulder to see a corner of the material bunched in his fist.
    “I told you I want you naked. That didn’t change because it’s a new day.”
    The reminder of his expectation made heat pour through her. “Yes, Sir.”
    “Move your ass, little sub.”
    Conscious of his gaze on her, she pulled back her shoulders and crossed into the kitchen. She opened a cabinet and found box after box of choices. Apple cider, hot chocolate, tea, organic coffee, decaf, French roast and her favorite, mocha. Best of all, there were packages of sugar.
    She popped a pod into the coffeemaker. Within seconds, it hissed and popped and she began inhaling the faint, but welcome, scent of chocolate as the beverage brewed.
    He watched, eyes wide with horror, as she tore apart five sugar packets and tipped the granules into the cup. Then she added a generous helping of cream before stirring.
    She inhaled the steam. It smelled sweet and creamy. She sipped then wrinkled her nose.
    Unsatisfied, she dumped in more cream.
    “We could have gone out for lattes,” he observed with an interested twist to his lips.
    “We still