The Bride (The Boss 3)

Over dinner, we chatted about the subjects we were both passionate about. Cars, primarily, and football, with music a distant third, but always, always back to cars. He told me of the exclusive Ferrari prototype he’d recently been invited to test drive, and I expressed my genuine envy that I hadn’t gotten the chance.

“You were sick,” Emir consoled me. “Everyone knew it. I’m sure they did not want to extend an invitation you could not accept.”

I shook my head and grimaced. ?

??I think it had more to do with the fact that I’m the founder of Auto Watch magazine. I may have been terribly unkind about the F50.”

“No one liked the F50,” Emir chuckled, leaning back in his chair.

The meal had been delicious, the dessert— warm baked figs halved and drizzled with caramel sauce— too rich and far too fattening for me to finish, and while I was far from drunk, the wine had made my limbs pleasantly warm and heavy.

“I’ve been thinking quite a lot lately,” I began, surprising myself with what I was about to say, “about my role in my company and the time I have to spend on pursuits that aren’t related to my business.”

“You’re a wealthy man. You couldn’t retire?” Emir asked with an elegant shrug. I was indeed wealthy, but nowhere near as rich as Emir and his family. Still, Sophie and I wouldn’t be in danger of the workhouse if I did step away from daily operations.

“It isn’t a matter of money.” I rolled my fingertip around the rim of my empty wineglass. “It’s my pride, I suppose. I would have to admit that things could run without me.”

“Spoken like a true Dom,” he said with a short chuckle. Then, wetting his bottom lip, he added, “I suspect now why Chloe was so intent on you trying submission again. Perhaps she thinks it will be good for you, not just in understanding her, but in understanding your current conflict.”

I paused with a hesitant smile. There couldn’t be any miscommunication between us, not about this. “I’m not certain it works that way. Perhaps Chloe believes that it does… but I think that what I do in the bedroom is largely unrelated to what I do outside of it.”

“I believe that’s true for some people. But I suspect it isn’t true for you.” The sparkle in his dark eyes was enough to make my knees weak. In a moment, though, it was gone, replaced by nonchalance I hoped was an affectation, at least in part. “It doesn’t matter. I enjoy your company. If this business has put a damper on the mood tonight, I won’t feel I’ve made the trip for nothing.”

“On the contrary, I don’t think it would be possible to spoil the mood.” I pushed my chair back. “Why don’t we move into my den. We can relax and discuss my terms of surrender.”

“Surrender?” His brow creased as he tried to decide if I were teasing him. “Submission?”

“Tonight, I think they might be one and the same.”

Aside from the bedroom, my favorite room of the house is my den. Sleek, modern cabinetry, all in dark wood, held a respectable collection of media. A terrifically long, orange couch with structured square cushions wrapped into an L at the end of the room. The single window was covered with a blackout shade, and tray lighting around the ceiling gave the perfect diffuse glow, so as to not interfere with the television’s projection, when it was on.

If Sophie could have inappropriate feelings for her bathtub, I most certainly could excuse my flagrant lust for my den.

Emir and I were on the couch, lounging, both of us slightly giddy at our discussion. We’d covered safe words, our expectations and preferences, and Emir had made impressive mental notes.

“So, you do not wish to be bound,” he ticked off on his fingers. “You do not wish for anything too painful… may I spank you?”

I paused. “I wouldn’t mind a light one, I don’t think. But I wouldn’t like to be spanked. Not repeatedly and as the sole purpose of the activity.”

He nodded, as though he understood perfectly. “About intercourse. I enjoy it, but it is not necessary, so do not feel pushed to do anything you don’t enjoy. I do love receptive anal sex, but I’m not sure I can accommodate your… size.”

“Ah.” This wasn’t the first time I’d run into this particular dilemma. To be fair, I wasn’t certain I would give it a go with a man as endowed as I was, either. “And are you averse to topping?”

His eyes lifted in surprise. “No, not averse at all.”

“You look as though I’ve shocked you.” It shouldn’t have been possible, I didn’t think, to surprise a wealthly man who frequented sex clubs. Especially the club to which we both belonged.

Then again, I’d been surprised more than once lately.

I tried to cover my slight embarrassment. “I only thought, because you would be Domming me… I’m not sure how submissive it would be for me to fuck you in the ass.”

We both laughed at that, until Emir said, “Yes, well. You might be surprised at how submissive a top can be. Have you ever considered letting Chloe fuck you?”

“No.” My god, I could feel myself blushing. “I’m not sure how one works that into a conversation, to be perfectly frank.”

“Maybe if we are all together another time, I could teach her?” Emir grinned broadly, the way I was certain Sophie would when I broached the subject with her.

“I sense I am already defeated before I protest.” I chuckled and leaned back, propping my arm on the top of the couch.