Free The Training (Book 3: The Submissive Trilogy) by Tara Sue Me Page B

getting ready to use that one.”
    “You have plenty.” I took a small bite, enjoying the satisfying crunch.
    He narrowed his eyes and watched me with mock ire as I chewed and swallowed.
    “FYI,” I said, shaking the carrot at him. “I will never pick peas over carrots on a Tuesday night. Unless they’re cooked. I hate cooked carrots.”
    His eye crinkled up at the edges and his mouth gave way to a beautiful smile. “Point taken.”
    “Now.” I reached for the peeler and took another carrot. “Since I’ve deprived you of your peeled carrot, the least I can do is peel another one for you.”
    “Oh, yes,” he said, his hand brushing my shoulder just slightly before moving away from me. “The very least.”
    I knew he was working hard, trying to let me dictate our weekday time. He had been hesitant at lunch the previous day, a change from the cookout with Felicia and Jackson when he’d touched me almost constantly.
    I turned to him and stroked his hand. “I like it when you touch me. Don’t stop just because you’re afraid I’ll take it the wrong way or will feel obligated.”
    His smile grew even larger. “You know me so well.”
    I lifted to my toes and gave him a small kiss. “Sometimes.”
    The look in his eyes told me he didn’t believe me. I decided not to pursue it further. Besides, there was something else I wanted to talk about. I turned back to the counter and began peeling the carrot.
    “You wanted to ask me something about this weekend?” I asked.
    He took another carrot and we worked side by side.
    “You’ve heard me talk about Paul?” he asked.
    Paul was Nathaniel’s mentor. I knew that. The man who had been his instructor. Nathaniel told me once that Paul was the only person he’d ever subbed for. My mind still couldn’t wrap itself around that—Nathaniel subbing for someone. Even if there wasn’t any sex involved, it still confused me.
    “And Christine?” he asked.
    Paul’s wife. And submissive. They had a three-month-old son, Sam. Paul had e-mailed Nathaniel pictures of the pudgy baby. Sam was cute as a button and had a precious toothless grin.
    “Of course I remember you talking about Paul,” I said. “Hard to forget that one.”
    The image of Nathaniel willingly submitting himself to anyone wasn’t anything I could easily forget.
    “I spoke to him,” he said. “He’s invited us to New Hanover this weekend.”
    This weekend?
    “I told him I’d talk to you about it, get your thoughts,” he said. “You could talk with Christine some. She’s a submissive, and I think it would be a good idea for you to talk with someone you can relate to like that.”
    I kept peeling the carrot. Someone to talk to? Someone who wasn’t Nathaniel? Would that be weird? How did one start that conversation, anyway?
Hi, I’m Abby and I crave domination?
    “He also mentioned the two of them playing for us,” Nathaniel said. “Perhaps something on your soft limit list.”
    Watch people have sex?
    The peeler slipped from my hand and clattered to the floor.
    He dropped down and picked it up. When he stood, he gently cupped my face. “You have ‘watching others’ listed as
willing
on your checklist. I would never violate your hard limits. Ever.”
    My mind spun in a hundred directions. Would we be in Paul’s playroom? How did that work? Would Christine care?
    “You have ‘forced nudity around others’ and ‘exhibitionism among friends’ listed as soft limits.” He didn’t move his hand. “I won’t push those limits this weekend. You will remain clothed, and I will not ask you to play in front of anyone.”
    We were both silent for several seconds, and his unspoken words rang in my head. A reminder he
would
push my limits at some point.
    He smiled. “And it’s Tuesday, Abby.”
    Tuesday. Abby.
    He waited until Tuesday to bring the weekend up because he wanted my honest opinion. I understood immediately why he hadn’t asked me on Sunday, not when I’d very nearly called