Boss

At seven, she lubed the plug and inserted it before dressing then checking her appearance in the mirror. The boots made the outfit and everything fit fine, but hot nerves still assailed her, so she swiped on a coat of confidence-giving red lipstick.

She paced the floor, from window to the kitchen and back again, burning off energy and killing time.

At seven-twenty-five, a few minutes early, there was a knock on the door.

Her heart stuttered.

Remembering Gwyneth’s advice to own the outfit, Kelsey forced down the impulse to adjust her halter top and instead straightened her spine.

The second knock was more forceful.

She opened the door, and the sight of him standing there in black leather pants, boots, a form-fitting T-shirt and his bomber jacket stole her breath. Tonight, he had a sexy shadow on his face, one she knew was deliberate and manicured.

He was every bit the Dom she’d spent months fantasizing about.

Then she noticed he was holding a yellow rose. The man undid her.

“You look even more perfect than I’d imagined,” Nathan said. “And I’ve been imagining plenty.”

Air whooshed from her lungs at his approval. “I… Come in. Thank you.” She took a step back and he entered, closing the door behind him.

The room seemed to shrink and spin, and she wondered if he would always have this kind of vertigo-inducing effect on her.

“For you.” He extended the blossom.

She’d only received flowers a couple of times in her life, and then, only on her birthday. His thoughtfulness touched her. “It’s beautiful.” She accepted the tight bud and inhaled the fragrance. “Let me put this in some water.” She walked toward the kitchen, and he propped his hips on the back of the couch, waiting for her.

“Come here,” he said, when she turned back around.

Her boots echoing off the floor, she went to him.

He captured her face between his hands and kissed her hard, ruining her lipstick and making her feel utterly desired. His skilled touch calmed her. How was it that he always seemed to know what she needed?

When she was limp and breathless, he released her.

“Ready?”

She nodded.

“Something you’d like to show me first?”

“Sir?” By measures, understanding dawned. “Of course.”

“I want your legs as far apart as you can make them,” he said. “Are you physically able to grab your ankles?”

“Yes.”

“Then let me inspect you.”

Slowly she turned away from him and assumed the correct position.

He flipped up her skirt, moved aside the wisp of fabric that he’d considered underwear then ran his fingers over her pussy and between her labia. His thorough touch made her jerk, and she had to struggle to keep her legs spread.

“Nice job,” he told her. “In the future, though, I may want to do it for you.”

She wasn’t sure she could bear it. “Yes, Sir.”

He gave the base of the plug several quick pulls, and she tensed in reaction.

Then he spanked each ass cheek hard. She bit back a scream as she fought for balance. Her anus and her pussy both felt inflamed.

“Now you’re ready. You may stand.”

She gulped some air as she stood. “That’s cruel and unusual, Sir,” she protested.

“I could make you travel with the purple vibrator inside you if you’d like, make you fight off your orgasm,” he suggested.

Horrified, she shook her head.

“Then let’s go.”

He helped her into a lightweight jacket, then she grabbed her purse before they stepped out into the hallway.

Mr. Martinez, in his red robe, froze at the sight of her in her boots and short skirt.

“Good evening,” she said to him.

With a huff, he scooped up Sinbad and the ball, mid-roll.

“Good thing I had a jacket over part of it,” she said as her neighbor slammed the door.

“It’s the boots,” Nathan said. “They make mincemeat out of a man’s brain. I know how he feels.”

“You chose them,” she reminded him as they walked down the stairs.

“Did I?”

“You rejected the shoes.” Then she relented. “Okay, maybe I fell in love with them.”

He helped her into the car then headed for the loop.

The drive through town then south to exurban Houston took forty-five minutes, and her heart rate seemed to increase with each minute.

After exiting the highway, he drove for miles. Homes got farther apart, the land less manicured.

He turned onto another road, heading farther west, and she saw a wrought-iron fence with a decorative but wicked spiked top. Behind it was a row of oleanders.

She was surprised when he was stopped by a security guard at a checkpoint.

After the man verified their IDs, they were waved through.