The man's eyes were like swimming in brandy, rich and potent. "That's why you're overwhelming. You say things like that to me, as if you've known me for a long time, and I've only known you for a little while."
"Yet it doesn't feel that way, does it?"
No. She didn't say it, but the answer was in her eyes. How was it possible? Probably because he brought her hormones to full raging, and that was easily mistaken for an
emotional response. She eased back, putting some space between them.
"Why didn't you invite me to the whip demonstration? You would have, if you'd wanted me there."
She'd never been this forthright in any of her previous relationships. Maybe she'd reached the fuck it, I've nothing to lose stage, where relationship guessing games exhausted her. She was interested in different games. The kind Logan played.
"Because it wasn't time for that." He leaned against the wall again. "BDSM is often a rigidly structured arrangement between the players. Like me and Troy. Once the session ends, that's it. Even if you have a regard for one another outside of it, you don't have a relationship."
"But Troy responds to you as a sub, even when he's not in session."
"When he's under my training, he's always in session. Shale wants 24/7. Troy has the right makeup for that, but training with me was a way of proving that to himself."
"He's staying with you?"
"Mm-hmm. Sleeping on a mattress on my bedroom floor, like a good pet."
She arched a brow. "He's never tried to get into the bed with you? Most dogs will."
His eyes kindled, acknowledging her teasing. "He might try that with Shale. Not with me. There's only room in my bed for the pet I intend to keep."
She decided to let that one go, but kept needling. "No cage? I figured you'd have one of your own at home. For the occasional overnight stray."
"Easy now," he chided. Hooking a finger in the plunging neckline of the vest, he tugged her a step closer again, so they were leaning against the brick wall together. As his body shadowed hers, she found her back against the brick. If he put up his other arm, he'd have her trapped against the unyielding surface.
"I don't need a cage to make my pet obey me," he said, glancing meaningfully at the open space he'd left her for escape. "But I like how your pupils got bigger and you stopped breathing when you were looking at the one in my workshop. Since then I've thought a lot about what you would have done if I had ordered you into it, rather than just offered you the chance to try it out."
She reminded herself to inflate her lungs, which only made his gaze slide down, watching the rise of her breasts. At this angle, he could see a great deal of their shape beneath the vest, almost to the areola. But she wasn't drawing away from his heat or challenge.
"I still don't understand why you didn't invite me," she said, holding on to her resolve with both hands. I am in control of this. It's just aggressive flirting.
"Yeah, you do. You want me to say it, to be sure. Which is why I won't. When you're sure, it'll be because my actions have left no doubt in your mind, Madison. You've had too many pretty words and lies."
Had Alice told him everything about her? It was like one-sided computer dating. She could be resentful of it, but so far, he hadn't been wrong in any assumption he'd made. That took more than just being fed facts. He'd deduced things deeper than what Alice could have told him, because some were things Madison herself hadn't even articulated. She really needed some quid pro quo so she could be less in the deep end with him. It was time to start studying him as carefully as he studied her.
Avoiding a direct comment, she touched that loose strand of his hair again. The rest of it lay in a thick, glossy tail between his shoulder blades. "She was right. It is a crime for a man to have hair this beautiful."
"It's a pain in the ass," he grunted. "You better appreciate it every day, or off it all comes."
"Whatever you wish, Master," she teased him.
His eyes flashed, fingers digging into her hip. "Say it again," he demanded.
She shook her head, put a quivering hand on his chest, the only defense she could manage. "I know how to cut hair," she said. "I'll cut it for you tonight. I don't want you to be different for me."
As much as she loved how he looked with long hair, short hair suited his face, his profile. She wanted him to look like who he truly was.
"I intend to be different for you, Madison," he promised. Shifting away from her, he held on to her scarf. "I'll see you tonight."
"Don't lose that," she warned. "It's thirty-five dollars plus tax."
Putting it to his nose, he inhaled as he gave her a roguish look. "I'll buy it. So I can hold on to your scent until tonight."
How could she trust something that sprang to life so quickly when, fast or slow, her relationships always ended up crashing and burning? Maybe by merely having fun with it, not making too much of it. Which was probably all he was doing, and she needed to follow suit. He was headed back into his store, but the door hadn't quite closed behind him yet. She cleared her throat. "No sex, right?"