Free Uncharted Territory (The Compass Series Book 3) by Tamsen Parker

unbearable sympathy and pity I usually get after telling people about my psychopath of a sister. Instead of being wound tight from exposing the inner workings of my psyche, I’m trying hard to contain the grin that’s threatening. “Yes.”
    “I think that should be a ‘yes, sir,’ then, don’t you?”
    A warm tingling starts in my spine and spreads throughout my torso, all the way to my fingers and toes. I have to gather up the slips of air still in my lungs to breathe, “Yes, sir.”
    He leans back and picks up his drink, looking pleased. I like making Hunter Vaughn look pleased. I’d like to make him look that way all the time. He’s about to say something else, but he’s interrupted by a knock at the door.
    “Come.” He doesn’t take his eyes off mine, and something deep in my core clenches. For fuck’s sake, how can he make me feel this way with just a word? Thankfully, I’m distracted by a waiter bearing a tray heavy with food and another clutching what is no doubt a very pricey bottle of wine.
    “I hope you don’t mind, I took the liberty of ordering. Overconfidence is a bad habit of mine. Will you stay and have dinner with me?”
    “Yes.” I’ve dropped the “sir.” Surely that won’t get me in trouble with the waiters still here? “I’ll need to let Mr. Walter know.”
    Hunter’s signaling that the wine meets with his approval. Before I can protest, the waiter’s filled my glass.
    “Stephen will tell him.” He makes eye contact with the man who poured the wine, who drops a curt nod in return.
    “He’ll want to hear it from me.”
    “Of course. Go ahead.”
    I slip my phone out of my clutch as the waiters back out, and Rey picks up on the first ring.
    “Are you okay?”
    “Yes, sir. Mr. Vaughn has invited me to stay for dinner.”
    “And you’d like to?”
    “Yes, sir.”
    “Very good, little one. I’ll be downstairs. Take your time. The sidecars here are to die for. Call if you need anything.”
    “Yes, sir.”
    I hang up, and Hunter’s regarding me curiously. I sometimes think that being a submissive makes you the dullest conversationalist in the whole world. Yes, sir; no, sir. But the truth is if you’re worth your salt, you’ll be able to converse on just about any topic at the drop of a hat to entertain your Dom and any guests he might have. A head full of rocks is not going to cut it, as my dinner with Hunter proves. He wants to talk about current events and books.
    When we’ve finished, he asks, “May I call you?”
    Most of me is screaming hell, yes , but that doesn’t seem like a good idea. “You can call Mr. Walter about me, sir.”
    A cloud of displeasure settles over his handsome face. “Are you playing hard-to-get?”
    I can’t help but smile. As evidenced by last night, hard-to-get is not my style.
    “No, sir. I’m trying to be respectful. I’m Mr. Walter’s responsibility.”
    He frowns, annoyed, but doesn’t argue. “Of course, you’re right. I’ll do that. Come, I’ll show you downstairs.”
    Hunter’s come around to my side of the table and offers me a hand. When I surrender mine, he tugs me into him and shoves me against the wall, making me drop my clutch in surprise. He’s pinning me against the smooth surface with a hand at my throat, nudging my chin up with his thumb, and he’s pushed a thigh between my legs. Holy crap.
    He leans down, his cheek a hair’s breadth from mine, much like the first time I met him. When I feel his breath hot in my ear, I nearly die.
    “You know when I asked you if you were a witch I was flirting with you.”
    “Yes, sir,” I squeak. I do know that. Now.
    “And anyone who asks you now that you’re a lovely grown woman is doing the same.”
    I hesitate for a split-second, and he nudges my chin higher, forcing a gasp.
    “Yes, sir.”
    “You’ve beguiled me, Kit, and that’s not a simple thing to do. I would imagine you’ve charmed more than your fair share of people before you got to me as well. So