Author: Olivia Cunning

Jace nodded. “I’ll wait.”

She leaned away from him and went to punch in the code to disarm the alarm. She opened the door to her personal home and ushered Jace inside. “Make yourself at home,” she said. “There’s some leftover soup on the stove if you’re hungry. Wine in the fridge.” He stepped across the threshold, glancing around anxiously. Probably on the lookout for her mother, who was not home. Supposedly, she was at a job interview—her first in a month. Aggie drank in the sight of Jace in her home. God, he was fine. She’d forgotten how attractive he was. “Or you can get naked and wait for me in my bedroom,” she whispered into his ear.

He grinned. “Go take care of your friend. I’ll be fine.”

She turned to find her customer watching her with a dark scowl. “Did I tell you that you could come out of that room, you fucking wuss?” she yelled.

“No, Mistress V.” Trembling, he stumbled back into the sanctum.

“I’m going to beat your ass for disobeying me!” she added for good measure. She turned back to Jace and brought the rose to her nose, inhaling its delicate fragrance. “Will you take this to the kitchen so I can put it in water?”

He nodded, accepting the rose. She planted a tender kiss next to Jace’s amused lips. “See you in a few, baby.”

She closed Jace into her home and locked herself in the soundproof room with her customer. She found these big, tough guys were always the easiest to break. Easy because they wanted to submit, but never had the opportunity to do so in their daily lives.

“Why are you still dressed?” she asked. “I told you to strip. I am not pleased.”

“Forgive me, Mistress V.”

“I will not! Your discipline will be strict and painful.”

It took him longer to get his clothes off and the restraints on than it took her to make him cry and beg her to stop. She gave him a little time to pull himself together before she took his money and escorted him out the front door.

“Same time next week?” he asked.

“Are you going to make it the full twenty minutes next time?”

He chuckled. “Probably not, but I’ll still pay for it, just in case.”

She smiled and patted his cheek. Her favorite kind of customer—ones who wasted a lot of their money and little of her time. “I’ll jot you down, Larry. Now go home, and fuck your wife. Consider bringing her with you next time.” Aggie loved to work with couples.

He chuckled again. “Maybe I will. Our sex life has never been better. She loves it when I come see you.”

“I’ll bet she does.”

“Maybe I’ll surprise her with one of those corsets you make. Do you think she’d like that?”

“You won’t be able to surprise her. She’ll have to be fitted.”

His face fell. “Oh.”

“But we’ll let her pick out the design.”

He grinned. “Yeah, okay. Thanks, doll.”

Aggie winked and locked the door behind him. And now, a little pleasure for herself.

She found Jace sipping reheated vegetable soup at the breakfast bar. Her magnificent, squashed rose was in a blue plastic tumbler of water on the counter beside him. She smiled at the sight. She’d love him to be in her kitchen every evening, but knew he was skittish about relationships. She didn’t mind taking it slow. But, God, she’d missed him. His monosyllable phone conversations and occasional text messages weren’t nearly enough.

He started in surprise when he caught sight of her. “I thought you were joking when you said three minutes.”

“I think he made it all the way to four this time. He’s a regular of mine.”

Jace lowered his gaze, slurped another spoonful of soup into his mouth. Every line in his body strained with tension.

She’d thought he was cool with her profession—she’d shared it with him and showed him what it entailed—but apparently, she’d been wrong. Was that why he hadn’t come to see her? She’d gotten tired of inviting him and getting turned down over and over. Maybe he wasn’t skittish. Maybe he was embarrassed by her. She refused to put up with that bullshit. She needed to know what his intentions were. If he was only here to feel the bite of her whip, he was going to pay for it just like everyone else. She wasn’t a fool. Aggie leaned on the counter across from him and ducked low until she entered his line of vision. “Does it bother you?”

“What?”

“What I do for a living?”

He shook his head.

“It doesn’t bother you that I hit men the way you like to be hit?”

“No.”

“That I watch the welts rise on their naked skin and listen to their cries of agony, night after night?”

“Nope.”

“That I beat them until they beg for mercy because it gives me some sick sense of empowerment to make them cry?”

“Not at all.”

“Really?”

He lifted his gaze and pinned her with a hard stare. “No, not really. I fuckin’ hate that they give you joy, but that’s my problem, not yours.”

He was jealous. Oh my God, she loved him.

Unable to keep her hands off him any longer, she climbed over the counter and tackled him to the floor. He tumbled off the stool onto the hard tile. “Ow.” Aggie landed on top, tugging his shirt up his body.

“Wimp.”

He laughed. Her heart melted. She couldn’t get him naked fast enough. She wanted to fill herself with him. Not just her dripping wet pussy—her hands, her mouth, her gaze.

Everything. Filled. With him. All him. Jace.

He laughed again as she worked at removing his jeans. Was this all it took to make him happy? Pouncing on him in the kitchen?

“Do you have a condom?” she asked.

He pulled an entire strip out of his pocket.

“Did you think you were going to get laid tonight?” she asked with a teasing grin.

He chuckled. “I was hoping more than once.”

“You got another date later?” she asked, looking at him with a fabricated scowl.

“Just with you.”

“Good,” she whispered.

She bent her head to kiss his belly. A spasm wracked his entire body. She trailed open-mouthed kisses over his stomach, just above the low waistband of his jeans.

His fingers sank into her hair. “Aggie.”

Well, hello there, erogenous zone.

Nibbling, licking, sucking on his lower belly, she located his most sensitive spots inside the ridges of his hip bones, indicated by his outrush of breath and the sucking of air between his teeth. When her fingers brushed the growing bulge in his pants, he shuddered and cried out. She grinned with sudden realization.

She kissed her way up his body until they were face to face. She waited for him to open his eyes and then asked, “Have you had sex since we made love on your bike?”

He stared at her forehead and shook his head.

“Me neither.”

His gaze shifted to hers. His smile could have lit the heavens.

“Why haven’t you come to see me sooner?” she asked.

“I didn’t think… I thought it was best…” He took a deep breath. “I have no fucking clue. I wanted to.”

“Do you mind if I think of you as my boyfriend?” She wasn’t going to let him brush her off. If she had to do the pursuing, so be it. She’d always gone after what she wanted in life. And she wanted Jace Seymour.

He paled and moved his gaze from her eyes to her forehead again. She waited for him to find his voice. She wasn’t going to give him an easy out. If he wasn’t ready to commit, that was fine, but he would have to say it. She wouldn’t.

“Okay,” he said finally.

“Okay?” She grinned at him.

“I don’t mind.”

She cupped his cheek. “Do you think of me as your girlfriend?”

He hesitated. “I think of you. Constantly. Is that enough?”

She chuckled. “It’s a start.” She kissed him gently.

He looked guilty. “I’m sorry. This is new for me.”

“You don’t have to apologize.”

He touched her face. “It was so hard to stay away. I want you to know you mean more to me than just awesome, awesome sex.”

“Only two awesomes?”

His eyes rolled into the back of his head and drifted closed. “A thousand awesomes.”

She slid down his body, kissing his throat. She pulled his shirt up and caught sight of the new addition to his sculpted chest. She flicked the small silver ring in his nipple with her fingertips.

“What’s this?”

He laughed again. “Bonding moment with Eric.”

She sucked the ring into her mouth, and his body stiffened. Ooo, fun. She flicked it with her tongue. “Who’s Eric?”

“Our drummer.”

“Anything else I should know about?”

“Hmmmm. The wicked awesome tattoo on my ass?”

She stripped his jeans and boots off and inspected his cute, little butt to find nary a mark on his perfect ass. “I don’t see anything.”

“Look closely.”

She ran her hands over the smooth cheeks, up and down. “Nothing here.”

“That’s right. It wasn’t on my ass, was it? I swear I got a new one somewhere. I doubt you’ll find it.”

She remembered he had a few on each of his upper arms, one on the left side of his chest. Problem was she wasn’t sure if she could pick a new one out of his collection. She coaxed him onto his back and pulled his shirt off, leaving him naked except for his socks, and started with the tattoo on his upper arm. A skull engulfed in flames. “I remember this one.”

“You sure?”

She wasn’t. “Yeah.” The dagger and roses beneath it looked familiar. “This one’s old too.”

The demon horse and the Grim Reaper on his left pec? Old. She did like playing with his new nipple ring though. She flicked it with her tongue until he squirmed. On his other arm he had a tribal pattern in red and black from shoulder to elbow. She definitely remembered that one.

“Where is it?” she asked.

“Lower.”

She kissed his nipple… his ribs… his belly. “Am I getting warm yet?”

“You are getting warmer,” he murmured. “It doesn’t have anything to do with how close you are to finding that tattoo though.”

She sucked on the skin around his belly button. He laughed, squirming sideways across the floor.

“I had no idea you were so ticklish,” she murmured.

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me.”

That was true. Was he ready to share? She looked at him. “So tell me something.”

“After you find that tattoo, I’ll answer any question you ask.”

She searched every inch of visible skin and found nothing. Her interest was rapidly shifting to his thick shaft, which was far more fascinating than any tattoo had ever been, but she did want to ask him a question. She searched his scalp.

“Okay, I give up. Where is it?”

“Maybe you should look under my sock.”

Well, of course, that’s where it would be. She peeled off his socks and found it. Her eyes opened wide, and she fell on the floor laughing. An animated daisy with a smiley face in its bright yellow center decorated his skin at the base of his left big toe.

“The moral to this story is never pass out drunk when Eric Sticks is picking out your wicked awesome tattoo.”

“And it’s permanent?”

“Yeah, until I get it removed.” He grinned. “Or maybe I’ll keep it. No one will see it there. Unless I go to the beach.”

She was surprised he seemed so cool with it. Shouldn’t he be upset that a friend had tricked him into getting an embarrassing tattoo while he was too drunk to stop it?