“That’s what makes me so good,” she confirmed with her own smile. “Now, before I forget why I came in here in the first place—we’ll have to move next week’s dance class to the gym. They’re going to be painting the ballroom.” She held up a hand, anticipating his protest. “Don’t say it. I know you don’t like dance. Too bad, so sad. We’re not canceling.”
He nodded his head toward the door. “Fine. We’ll dance in the gym. I’ll catch you later. I’m going to see if I can find Miss Lincoln.”
Mariela said her good-byes and slipped out the door. He picked up the discarded applications from where Andie had left them and had just put them into a neat pile when he was interrupted by a knock on
his door. Probably Mariela, he guessed. If he knew her, she’d most likely come back to ask him if he’d be willing to do some sort of dance demo.
He’d turned around to tell her no fucking way in hell, but his words caught in his throat when he saw it wasn’t Mariela.
Standing in his doorway was Andie Lincoln. Her eyes were red and wet, but her chin was raised in a defiant manner that reminded him of Mariela. It was so striking, he wondered for a second if he’d been wrong in saying she was only playacting at being a submissive.
“May I come in, Sir?” she asked.
He stood to the side and let her pass. She didn’t sit down like she had before, choosing instead to stand in the middle of the room.
“I can’t prove to you why I should be here instead of those other six hundred and two people,” she said. “In fact, I’m fairly certain most of them probably should have had my spot.”
He almost interrupted her to tell her it was okay and that he wasn’t going to make her leave. But he got the impression that, for whatever reason, Andie needed to finish what she came to say.
“But,” she continued, “the fact is I am here, and so obviously someone thought it was a good idea. I won’t lie and tell you I know for a fact that I’m a submissive, but I suspect I am.” She paused, thinking. “Terrence gave me a few basic commands and once he made me keep my hands behind my back while he kissed me.” Her cheeks flushed; she’d liked being restrained. She looked back at Fulton. “The fact of the matter is, this is the best way for me to know for sure. So I promise you, if you let me stay, no one will work harder than me. I’ll give you everything I have for the next three months, and I promise when my training is complete you won’t regret letting me stay.”
She took a deep breath and for just a second, her bravado faltered. But just as quickly, her expression settled into ironclad determination. And something deep in his soul ignited.
“I’m not going to send you away,” he said.
Relief flooded her face. “Thank you, Sir. I promise you won’t regret it.”
“See to it.” He crossed the room to his desk and sat down. “Have a seat, Miss Lincoln. We have some items to discuss.”
She hurried to sit down in the chair she’d occupied before, and he didn’t miss the wary glance she gave the pile of applications he still had on his desk. He chose to ignore those for the time being and took her information from the smaller pile on the opposite site.
“What’s your current occupation?” he asked, glancing over the forms she’d completed and noticing the empty fields.
“I’m not employed at the moment. At the end of the summer I hope to find work as a chef.”
A chef. That was certainly interesting. The academy had gone through a series of unsuccessful chefs. Too bad she was here as a student and not a potential employee. If she were here as an employee and didn’t have the actor boyfriend . . .
He shut that thought down before it had time to grow. He scanned her medical history and raised an eyebrow. “You have asthma?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“I assume it’s under control and you brought your medications with you?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“You may find the climate here beneficial.”
“I’d heard that, Sir.”
He looked over her checklist. For show really; he’d gone over it yesterday. “I see you filled out a checklist detailing your limits as well as what you would enjoy. We’ll have you fill out another one once you start on the more physical aspects of your training.”
“How soon . . . I mean, when will . . . the information I had was unclear.”
He narrowed his eyes at her. God save him from virgins. This he didn’t need. “It varies. Of course, you’re a special case since you indicated you’re a virgin and we’re to keep you that way.” He didn’t add the at your boyfriend’s request.
Her cheeks flushed again.
“But,” he said, “you’re still not to play with yourself or make yourself come.” An image of her naked and in bed, legs spread as she used a vibrator, popped into his head. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat as his cock stirred to life. “You have played with yourself before, right? You’ve given yourself an orgasm?”
Her cheeks turned a deeper shade of red and she glanced away. “Yes, Sir.”
“Look at me.” He was going to have to do something about her inability to discuss anything pertaining to sexual contact without blushing. She reluctantly looked his way. “Embarrassment or shame has no place here. We’re all adults and the fact is, you’re here to be sexually trained. You need to become comfortable with your own body as well as talking about it.”
She gave a halfhearted nod.
Unacceptable.
“Stand up and close the door, Miss Lincoln.”
She slowly got to her feet and closed the door.
“Go stand in the middle of the floor and strip.”
“What?” Her face was completely red. Hell, he bet her entire body was flushed at this point.
“I don’t believe I stuttered. Off with your clothes. Now.”
Not only was she flushed, but her hands trembled as she undid her pants and slipped them down. She tugged her shirt over her head and dropped it to the floor. She looked everywhere except at him. And though she was lovely in her lacy white underthings, she was still overdressed.
“All of your clothes.” He pointed to her bra and panties. “I want you nude.”
“I thought there would be nothing physical for at least a month?”
“I’m not going to fuck you. I’m not even going to touch you. I simply want you naked for the time being.”
She didn’t want to do it. That much was obvious. Too damn bad. There was too much for her to learn to be embarrassed about being naked.
“You’re going to find yourself naked probably more than you think.” Once again, he bemoaned the fact that she was here. What the hell was MacLure thinking? With nine other students, he didn’t have time for virginal shyness. “Seriously, Miss Lincoln. You had to know you’d be getting naked.”
“I didn’t think it would start until the physical training started. I thought I had more time.”
“Consider yourself an advanced student.” And to prove they weren’t moving on to anything else until she obeyed, he leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest. “You’ll soon learn patience is not a virtue of mine. Especially once I give a command. And just for the record, I have your boyfriend’s approval to turn you over my knee and give you a bare-ass spanking, the likes of which you can’t even imagine. Either use the academy safe words or get completely naked. You do know the safe words?”
She glanced down as she slipped the strap of her bra off her shoulder. “Yes, Sir. Red, yellow, green.”
“Eyes on me,” he said.
He wondered if deep inside he was pushing her to quit. But when she reluctantly met his gaze, he found an unexpected strength. For the first time since she’d walked through his door, he thought she just might have it in her to make it after all.
• • •
MASTER MATTHEWS WAS an ass.
If she focused on that, maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to strip for him. Besides, he probably did stuff like this all the time. More than likely, this wasn’t out of the ordinary at all. For him, anyway.
Your virgin’s showing, she chided herself.
She reached behind her back and unhooked her bra. She forced herself to keep her focus on him as she stepped out of her panties. Only then did he break eye contact, and his gaze roamed down her body and back up.
She took the time to appraise his body and noticed the sizable bulge in his jeans. Had she done that? She rather liked the idea of drawing such a reaction from him.
“Very nice, Miss Lincoln. You have a beautiful body.”
“Thank you, Sir.”
“Now tell me, why submission? What is it about kneeling before your boyfriend that turns you on?”