“The secret is, you’re always at my mercy, whether your arms are cooperating with you or not.” He gentled his hold and slid his thumb over her tongue. She curled her tongue around it, then closed her lips on him and suckled. His cock twitched in jealous outrage.
Being with Arabella meant never knowing which of them was in charge from moment to moment, and he fucking loved it.
“You’re five foot one and about one hundred pounds if you put some rocks in your pockets,” he reminded her. “I’m well over a foot taller, and twice your weight.”
She sucked her way off his thumb, gazing up at him with wide, innocent eyes. How she managed to make him want to corrupt her even though she was already thoroughly corrupted was a mystery to him. It was like her superpower.
Brats were the very best toys. They were always coming up with new and wonderful ways to keep their owners interested and drive them squirrelly.
“You’d better watch out,” she said lightly. “I’ve been concentrating really hard on getting taller, and when I’m bigger than you are I’m going to make you my bitch.”
“Is that so? I’d like to see you try.”
She lunged up out of the water and wrapped an arm around his neck, then tried to pull him down into the tub headfirst. Instead, he braced his hands on the edge of the tub and she sort of dangled from his neck like a pretty, naked necklace.
“Damn it.” She let go and fell back into the tub with a small splash. “You knew I was going to do that, didn’t you?”
“Yes,” he lied. The real possibility of her trying to drag him in should have crossed his mind when he’d been thinking of her as a siren.
“I guess I’d have to get up pretty early in the morning if I wanted to get the jump on you.”
“If you ever get the jump on me, there’ll be hell to pay.”
“Oh, I’m counting on it.” She grinned, and flicked water at his face, some of the drops hitting the mark, but most missing him. His T-shirt was soaked around the collar from her attempt to get him in anyway, so he pulled it off and threw it on the side of the tub where it would be out of the way.
“Look at that. My devious plan was successful. The next step is to get you out of your pants.”
“I’m pretty sure that for a plan to be devious you’re not supposed to tell me about it beforehand.”
She frowned thoughtfully. “You may be right.”
“Why did you want my shirt off?”
“That’s the dumbest question you’ve ever asked me, Mr. Ellis. Who wouldn’t want you to take your shirt off? The question is why haven’t they made it illegal for you to wear shirts in Canada.”
“They can’t make wearing shirts illegal in Canada. People would die of hypothermia nine months of the year.”
She rolled her eyes. “I’m pretty sure you’re joking, but if you’re not you’ve picked a really bad place to open what’s practically going to be a nudist resort, at least for the submissives.”
“Obviously, the resort will probably be seasonal.”
She frowned and tugged on one of his fingers. “You should get in here with me. There’s plenty of room.”
“It was supposed to be relaxing for you, and I can guarantee that if I get in there you’re not going to be relaxed for very long.”
She grumbled something that involved profanity, but he ignored that and took her hand, using his thumbs to massage her palm. The sound that came out of her wasn’t very
ladylike. Her eyes rolled in pleasure, then popped wide.
“Hey! I just realized—you’re going to have to be here all summer, every summer. I don’t think I like that idea.”
“You could come visit me anytime you like.” He worked his massage upward, working on the muscles in her forearms.
“I have to work in the summer. I can’t just take summers off, I have a business to run.” Her lips twisted unhappily. “So for the best months of the year we’re going to be in a long-distance relationship. I’m going to be busy with microbrewery competitions and beer gardens, and you’ll be up here ogling pretty young submissives traipsing naked around your island.”
She actually sounded jealous. It wasn’t the reaction he would have expected from her, especially considering there was no one for her to be jealous about, currently.
“How is this any different than me working at Catacombs? The club is always full of half-naked women—you usually approve of that fact, and often are one yourself.”