Follow Me Always (Follow Me 3)

“Well, eleven years ago I was thirteen, so I’m going to say no.”

His lips quirk. “I ought to bring you over my knee and give that cute ass of yours the spanking from hell.”

My core throbs. “Okay,” I say coyly.

“Sorry, babe. This is your one chance to hear this story. So choose. The spanking or this.”

I could tell him I choose the story, that I know he’ll spank me later. But that’s not Braden. If I choose the story, he will intentionally not spank me later, no matter how much I crave it.

I’m caught between a rock and a hard place, my usual spot with Braden.

“Continue,” I say. “I need to know, and I think maybe you need to tell me.”

Chapter Forty-Eight

She nodded.

“No, tell me in words.”

“Yes, I agree to all that.”

“All what?”

“I’ll call you sir, and my safe word is black.”

“And you’ll do what I want.”

“God, yes,” she said breathlessly. “I’ll do whatever you want. Sir.”

Braden’s cock was hard inside his jeans. “I’m going to take a shower. I’m a mess.”

“I think you look great,” she said. “All dirty after a day of hard work. Work that gives you those amazing muscles.”

“Are you saying you don’t want me to take a shower?”

“No,” she said. “I want you just as you are. You’re so hot.”

Braden walked toward her, intentionally not touching her. “Honey, this isn’t about what you want.” He walked to his bathroom, stripped off his clothes, and got under the pelting water.

He scrubbed his body clean with lukewarm water, wondering what he’d find once he was done. Most likely, she’d realize what she’d gotten into and turn tail and run. That’d be okay. He’d jack off and be done with it. Not like he’d never done that before. It was most of the sex he had these days.

He stepped out of the shower, dried his hair and body, and then wrapped a towel around his waist.

Here goes nothing. He opened the door and walked out into the living area.

He’d gone over in his mind what he might find. Most likely she’d be gone. If not, she might have gone into the small kitchen area and gotten a couple beers out of the fridge. Maybe some bourbon. Maybe just some ice water. That sounded great right about now.

Or maybe she’d have discarded her trench coat and be lying spread eagle on his bed.

Those were the things he expected.

Not what he got.

Addison was kneeling by his bed.

Kneeling.

This woman knew something about submission. More than Braden knew at this point.

And he was more than slightly turned on.

He walked to her. “What’s going on here?”

“May I look you in the eye, sir?”

She asked permission to look him in the eye? This was what she wanted? What she thought he wanted?

Fine. He’d give it a try. It was kinky. What the hell?

“You may.”

She raised her head, meeting his gaze with her neck bent backward. “What can I do to please you?”

“Bring me your flogger and then get on the bed.”

She walked to her trench coat, got the flogger out of the pocket, and then sat down on the bed. She held the flogger out to him as if in offering.

Okay, he could live with this.

“This is a two way street,” Braden said to her. “I’m going to tell you what I want to do, and you have the choice to say no.”

“I’ve already consented. I don’t want that choice.”

“I think I’ve told you before. This isn’t about what you want.”

“Yes, sir,” she said. “But I want what you want.”

“You may think that. I’m giving you the choice. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good. We understand each other. I will ask you each time we do something new whether I have your consent, and I want it verbally. No headshakes or nods, got it? I need a verbal yes or a verbal no.”

“I understand, sir. But it will always be yes.”

She certainly had a one-track mind. Great. Whatever. He’d see soon enough how far she was willing to go. Braden had wanted to experiment with some BDSM for a while now, but finding a willing partner had been an issue.

Now, one had walked right into his life. A fucking hotel heiress, for God’s sake. But she was legal, so what the hell?

In the back of his mind, something nudged at his neck. That what he was about to do might be a huge mistake.

But he was erect, and a woman was on her knees in front of him.

He ignored the voice of his conscience.

It was the last time he’d do so.

…

“Really?” I ask. “You knew you shouldn’t be doing it?”

He nods. “It wasn’t that I thought we were going to do anything wrong. You know my tastes. You share them. But I was inexperienced, and I was about to embark on something dark with someone I knew nothing about. She seemed to know much more about me than I did about her.”