“I’m a redhead. I’m naturally pale.”
“There are dark circles under your eyes.”
Exasperated now, she placed her hands on her hips. “Anything else you want to add? Obviously, I need to make more of an effort with my makeup.”
She reached up and pinched her cheeks. He grabbed hold of both her hands and pulled them down.
“Don’t do that. You’re as gorgeous as ever.”
She was? Warmth filled her. She smiled up at him. He wasn’t good with words, but what he said, he meant.
He crossed his arms over his chest, giving her a stern look. “Doesn’t matter how many sexy looks you give me, I’m not changing my mind.”
She was giving him a sexy look? She filed that away for future reference. She pouted slightly. “I want to play.”
“We play, and you’ll be getting your ass heated. You’re owed a punishment.”
She bit her lip. She was no masochist. She didn’t want a spanking or whatever else he had in mind. But she knew he’d look after her. Then he’d take her home and cuddle her all night. He might even give her some relief for this overwhelming need filling her. And, most importantly, she knew he’d forgive her.
“I know,” she whispered.
“I’m not playing while you’re exhausted.”
She huffed out an impatient breath. “You’re too overprotective.”
“Yep,” he agreed without apology.
“Sloan, I don’t want to start off the weekend with you angry at me. I messed up. I scared you. I was thoughtless. If I go home to bed now, I’m not going to sleep. All I’m going to do is lie there wondering what you’re going to do to me, how angry you are at me, and if I’ve caused a rift between us. If you punish me now, then it’s over and done with.”
She wasn’t lying. She would spend the night worrying, and he knew it.
He eyed her for a moment. “A test.”
Huh?
“Take off your coat,” he demanded.
He used that voice. The one guaranteed to put her into a submissive frame of mind. It was low, rumbly, and full of command. And she’d obeyed him before she even realized it. Desire to please him filled her. He stared at her, his gaze hungry.
It never failed to amaze her he thought her gorgeous. That out of all the women he could have, he wanted her. He’d chosen her.
“Go bend over the sofa, ass in the air, hands resting on the cushions.”
“Here?”
His brows lowered, and he gave her “the look.”
Sensibly, she scurried to obey him. When he looked at her like that, she knew she’d damn well better obey or she’d be in trouble. Well, more trouble.
So, she bent over the back of the couch. At five eight, she wasn’t short but even she had to go up on tiptoes to rest her hands on the sofa cushions. Had no one thought of that when they’d ordered them? Or maybe they had. The high-backed sofas not only provided some privacy but could put a sub off-balance as they perched over them.
She wouldn’t put it past whomever had designed the interior to have chosen every piece of furniture with a dual purpose in mind. Doms were sneaky like that.
Sloan moved up behind her, clasping her hips and lifting her. His casual show of strength made her gasp. Kinley was not a small person, but Sloan shifted her around like she didn’t weigh a thing. Butterflies filled her stomach as she realized he’d moved her into a far more vulnerable position, her feet dangling uselessly in the air.
Sloan raised her short skirt up over her bottom. She’d found this leather-like skirt in a thrift store and had snapped it up. It was a little tight, but Sloan seemed to like it.
He sucked in a breath. “What the hell is this?” He pulled at her panties.