Two
He was ready for me. Somehow, I managed to misjudge my attack, and instead of him landing flat on his desk, where I would have pinned him down effortlessly and given him a piece of my mind, the person being flattened was me. It happened so fast that it knocked all the air out of me. I lay there gasping for a few seconds, before his body pressed itself down over mine. Grasping both of my wrists, he held them over my head, and the look he wore was predatory. My synapses nearly exploded, but I held my instincts in check. He wasn’t going to kill me. He would express his displeasure and then kick my ass out of the door, figuratively speaking with any luck. If he expected me to be cowed by his actions, the man was right out of luck. I grinned up at him.
“Nice moves,” I said when I’d finally gotten my breath back. I hoped the damn asshole couldn’t feel my heartbeat, which was nearly rocketing up to one hundred and forty beats per minute. I didn’t run much faster than that without exploding.
“Should I call security? Do I need to escort you from the building?” He raised a single eyebrow at me, but the rest of his face was perfectly still. He obviously took his games of control seriously. I sighed.
Looking at him, with what I hoped was the most cajoling look I possessed, I opened my mouth and licked my lips. I didn’t do it to tease or torment - it was more of a stalling tactic, but when I saw the spark of fire in his eyes, I realised that he thought I was playing with him. Not wanting to antagonise him further, I decided I’d better tell him a watered-down version of the truth and hope that he’d take pity on me.
“I need this. I can handle the pain, so that part of the arrangement isn’t going to be a problem. The thing with me is that I need to be pushed to the absolute limit, and I need someone that won’t stop until they get there.” His lips were so close to mine that I could feel his warm breath on my mouth. The tingle it imparted feathered across my face and somehow reached my groin. I couldn’t keep myself from clenching, and from his answering half-smile, I knew he’d felt it. The infernal man was nearly as observant as me, I realised, with a good degree of vexation.
The blue eyes ate me alive. They devoured every feature of my face, from the roots of my hair to the small cleft in my chin. It felt like I was being examined under a high-powered microscope, and by the time he’d finished, my ego was feeling decidedly uncomfortable.
“There’s a little more honesty in that response than the one previous, but I have a feeling the story you’re giving me is the abbreviated version. So, I’ll make you a deal. You can meet me for dinner this evening. We’ll chat. If I’m satisfied with your answers, we’ll schedule your session for tomorrow afternoon.”
I looked at him incredulously. Dinner? An hour or more of ridiculous pleasantries and small talk, while I had to sit opposite him, forcing myself to look at him? The idea was hideous, and I immediately dismissed it. “No,” I whispered.
“Then you will have to find yourself another agency and another dominant. Good day, Ms. Reeves.” He removed his considerable weight from my body and turned his back towards me as he straightened the cuffs of his blue shirt. For some ridiculous reason, I felt absurdly bereft. Recovering my composure, I flicked the long rope of my plaited hair behind me and stood up. My mind was whirling. There were other agencies, but I’d have to book an interview appointment in order to be seen. That meant I’d have to wait at least another two weeks before the session commenced, and it was time I couldn’t afford to waste. I was going crazy trapped between four walls, and I needed a fast-track package back to work. I could do this. That particular fact was still being debated as I walked over to the frosted glass door and grabbed the metal handle. Pulling it open, I didn’t manage to wrench it more than an inch wide before I paused.
“Just dinner?” I hated the element of weakness that made me ask the question. This was not me. I was all wrong. Watching his reflection in the glass, I saw him raise his head as he returned my refracted stare. His eyes were the only part of his face that gave anything away, and there was amusement there. Apparently, I was a great source of entertainment.
“Let’s get one thing straight. My body is not for sale, and we will not be having ‘sex.’ As to your session, if I decide to go ahead with it, I’m reasonably confident I can wait until tomorrow.”
I nodded, duly chastened. My ego shrank further still. With a small voice, I asked, “When and where do you want to meet?”
He chewed his lip as he considered my question, no doubt trying to figure out the option that would piss me off the most.
“The Barracuda. Meet me at eight o’clock sharp.”
My eyes closed in horror, and I counted to three under my breath. I absolutely loathed seafood in all of its various denominations. The man behind me must have been a mind reader. Not trusting my quavering voice to object, I opened the door in front of me and dashed through it. Had my level of restraint not been honed with years of perfection, I would happily have slammed the thing until there was nothing left but shards of broken glass.