Free The Professor's Pet (A BDSM Romance Novel) by Tara Crescent Page B

the box before you put them on the bed, Emily, before I get annoyed by the disobedience.”
    I knew I was likely to get into trouble, but this was really embarrassing. My cheeks flaming, I did as he said.
    “Good girl,” he said. He got up, walked over to the bed, took a look. I hadn’t been lying, exactly, I really didn’t have many toys. I’d never felt like using them on myself, and previous boyfriends would have been horrified at the toys I did want to buy; spreader bars and butt plugs and nipple clamps and cuffs.
    “Can I have that drink now? Either tea or coffee please, if you have it?”
    “I can make some coffee,” I offered.
    He smiled at me. “That sounds excellent,” he said. He took a notepad from his jacket pocket, followed me into the kitchen; took a seat at my tiny kitchen table. H e started writing as I ground the beans, spooned the grounds into the filter, added water and switched my coffee-maker on. I wanted to peek, but the first time I came close by, he lifted his head and shook it at me, his lips twitching. “You’ll find out soon enough,” he commented dryly.
    I pouted at him, but he just laughed at me. “Make the coffee, Emily,” he ordered, and resumed writing. “Oh, and do you have a ruler?”
    My heart jumped; I looked nervous. He laughed openly at my expression. “I just wanted to underline something,” he drawled.
    I threw my kitchen towel at him; he caught it easily, and threw it back to me. “Tsk, tsk, Emily,” he said, amused. “Keep that temper under control, baby, else you are going to be in trouble.”
    ***
    We got into the car. “Do you know anyone in Oakland?” he asked me , as we headed onto the freeway.
    I shook my head. “Okay, let’s go to Oakland,” he said cheerfully.
    “Jake,” I said, “I’m not flashing someone in Oakland.”
    He didn’t comment. I sighed. “Professor Ballard,” I restarted, “I would prefer not to flash someone in Oakland, Sir.”
    He rolled his eyes at me. “Emily. You’ve already told me that; it’s on your hard limits. Trust me, I’ll respect those. You won’t be showing anyone any more skin than you are showing at the present.”
    “Then what do you have planned?” I asked.
    “Pet,” he drawled. He sounded utterly exasperated. “I can turn around and drive you back home. If we are playing, then submit with grace. It isn’t just about calling me Professor Ballard.”
    He was right. As much as I wanted to let go, and cede control; it was still hard sometimes. “I’m sorry, Professor Ballard,” I said softly.
    He nodded.
    ***
    Oakland has an airport, and for some reason, the streets surrounding an airport always have a few seedy ‘Adult DVD’ stores. A throwback to an earlier age when people needed to buy and watch videos to get their kink on. In the age of the Internet, it was a miracle that any of these had ever survived.
    We pulled up in front of one. Jake turned to me. His gaze was even.
    “I like to play,” he started. “But I play safe. I’ve been to this store before. It’s a bit seedy, but not dangerously so. There’s no live show in the back, no peepholes or viewing booths or glory holes or anything of that ilk. You will be safe there. Embarrassed, but safe.”
    My expression must have shown a measure of panic.
    “I will be right next to you,” he added.
    I was instantly reassured. “What do I need to do?” I asked.
    He grinned. “It sells a surprisingly extensive selection of sex toys. Here’s your shopping list.”
    I reached for the list he was holding out; this was what he was working on earlier. I looked down; it even had a nice heading. Sex Toy Shopping List, it said, in Jake’s neat writing. My lips twitched.
    He put his hand over mine to get my attention. “Here are the rules,” he said. “You can’t buy anything marked beginner. Or anything pink.”
    I nodded compliance. “No pink, no beginner. Got it, Professor Ballard,” I muttered.
    “I won’t answer questions,” he said.