Beloved Pet

I felt, by turns, slightly embarrassed, slightly infuriated, and slightly…

Like a turn on?

No. No, definitely not. It was far too early for that. He hadn’t even started talking dirty yet.

“What exactly is it that you do in here?” I blurted out, before I could rethink the wisdom of the question.

I was wondering if this was his “BDSM dungeon,” of sorts. But I knew I shouldn’t be prying.

William’s eyebrows lifted slightly as he looked at me.

“You’ll find out,” he said, after only a moment’s hesitation.

His eyes searched my face, and I just looked back, as coolly as I could manage. I didn’t know what had possessed me to ask, but now, I was burning with curiosity.

Yeah, curiosity. That was it.

Or maybe it was lust.

“I can tell you now, if you like,” he said. “But be prepared to significantly accelerate things in this mentorship between us.”

He was leaving the choice up to me. And I knew exactly what I wanted to choose, even though I also knew that I shouldn’t.

“Yes, I’d like to know,” I told him.

The mischievous glint had briefly dulled in his eyes.

“Do you really want to know?” he asked. “Or do you want to find out when the time is right?”

It was an earnest question, and one that asked more than it seemed to on the surface. He was asking me if I wanted to play along. He was acknowledging, without really acknowledging, that he was toying with me and that he liked it, and that he was pretty sure I liked it too. All the smiles, the glances, the gentle flirting that cultivated the natural tension in a room between two people talking about sex.

William was letting me know that it wasn’t a mandatory part of working with him.

He was giving me the opportunity to set a boundary. And if I was smart, I would take it.

Instead, just like I’d done when I decided to come here after receiving his valentine in the first place, I acted on impulse.

“Yes,” I said. “I really do.”

William smiled, indulgently. I thought I detected a hint of relief in his eyes – deep gray, flecked with green.

I knew he wanted me as badly as I wanted him.

“Okay,” he said. “But just remember, you asked for it.”

Chapter 5

William

Some people submit more readily than others.

And I can figure some out more than others.

Jocelyn seemed to be a perfect example of someone I couldn’t figure out yet, which was part of my immense attraction to her. Her aura gave off clues letting me know that even though she was innocent and a bit naïve, she wasn’t about to just submit without a fight.

And that was okay, because I liked a challenge. Sometimes, the power struggle could be just as intoxicating as the instant trust and surrender.

By the way she looked at me when I opened the door, I could tell she knew exactly who I was. I’d never kept my kink a secret, exactly; it was just that most people didn’t bother to dig it up. But Jocelyn did. She had clearly talked to others about me.

She had a good reason to, and I didn’t begrudge her the knowledge one bit. I could tell that it flustered her a little, even though she pretended that it didn’t. I was actually flattered, that she was so into me, that she would go and ask around about me.

Jocelyn was a good lawyer. I knew she would be good for McKenzie and for my own law firm in particular. I knew I shouldn’t be doing this. I shouldn’t have made her that Valentine’s Day card.

From the Jocelyn looked at me, she had me over a barrel, and she knew it. And she liked it, maybe a little too much for my tastes. She knew she had my heart, in addition to my lust.

She was tall and curvy, with clear green eyes, perfect skin, as severe with herself as she was with other people. If a blemish appeared on her cheek, she’d probably just stare it into submission in the mirror.

I could tell that she was naturally shy but that she did something to improve her confidence. Maybe acting lessons, voice coaching, positive self-affirmations, to make her appear more fierce that she truly felt inside.

Some people might be downright intimidated by her.

But I wasn’t.

During the welcome meeting yesterday, I had noticed something. She was acting strangely. Her cheeks were slightly flushed, even through the many layers of expensive makeup. Her eyes kept darting to me and then quickly back to her papers again, especially when I looked up.

I was making her nervous. I was turning her on. That was the only thing that could make a woman blush like that.

Jocelyn tried to cultivate a severe look: the heavy makeup, smoothly styled fire-red hair pulled back into a tight bun, and a permanent frown. But it wasn’t innate. She’d become this way, out of necessity, I suspected.