No one knew her here. This was only temporary. Maybe she could slip into this foreign role for a little while—that of the yielding, cherished submissive. She’d never had a man look at her the way Grant was right now. Like there was no other woman who could possibly compete.
It was potent and erotic and so damn alluring.
Grant bent his head and brushed his lips against her jaw—a promise of kisses to come. “You ready, freckles?”
She wound her arms around his waist and pressed her forehead against his chest, feeling his steady heartbeat, feeling wanted. “I’m all yours.”
And that was that. Before they stepped out of the restaurant, she’d done the impossible. She’d surrendered.
THIRTEEN
Grant wasn’t sure what he wanted to do with Charli first. It’d been so long since he’d indulged in The Ranch’s accommodations, and he’d never taken on someone who wasn’t already part of the scene. Well, not since his wife. When he’d been with Rachel, he hadn’t known such a lifestyle existed. They’d been young and had still been figuring out the basics of vanilla sex. Kink hadn’t even hit their radar.
An edge of anxiety curled in his stomach at the thought of Rachel, but he shoved it to the back of his brain where he stored the bad shit. He wasn’t going to ruin this night.
He couldn’t decide if he should ease Charli in or drag her into the deep end with him. He didn’t want to scare her or freak her out. But her tendency to overthink things and her penchant for thrill seeking made him wonder if going whole hog would actually be best. And hell, she hadn’t checked one damn thing on her hard limits list, so he had no idea if she was simply unsure of her limits or if she was craving someone to push her. He’d need to try a few things and gauge her reaction before knowing the best path to lead her down. All he knew was that if she needed to be reminded how much of a woman she was, he was happy to make that happen.
He peeked over at her as they walked down the quiet hallway that led from the restaurant to the play areas. She gave him a wavering smile, and he squeezed her hand. “What’s on your mind, freckles?”
“What’s not on my mind?” she replied. “I’m going through a hundred scenarios of what may happen tonight. All those things in that contract, I…it’s overwhelming. I have no idea what I’m doing.”
He slowed his step and stopped, tugging her arm gently to square her to him. “Look at me, Charlotte.”
Her shoulders rose and fell with a heavy breath, but she tilted her face toward him and met his gaze.
He pulled the leather collar from his suit’s inside pocket and wound it around her neck, her pulse thumping against the delicate skin of her throat as he snapped the lock.
Seeing the simple strip of leather had his own heartbeat picking up speed. He cupped her face with his palms. “Now you’re mine. All you need to do is focus on what I tell you. Try not to think when I give you a command, just do. I’m not here to embarrass or humiliate you. That’s not my kink. I do enjoy giving some pain, but I gave you words to use if that is ever too much.” He brushed his thumbs across her cheeks. “Anything I do with you or to you has a purpose and is for our mutual benefit. It may not always be clear how, but you’re going to have to trust that I have a good reason.”
She nodded, her shoulders straightening despite the obvious shadow of worry in her eyes. “Yes, Grant. I mean, sir.”r: Roni Loren
Grant’s brow wrinkled. “Meaning you only liked it four times? Or you only came four times?”
“Both. My mind doesn’t stop racing. I get distracted at the littlest thing. The room’s too cold. His cologne is too strong. Why is he making that face? Does he seriously think that is going to work? Am I doing this right? Does he realize having SportsCenter on in the background is only going to derail me?”
Grant’s dimple appeared.
“Stop, I’m serious. It’s a problem,” she protested, unable to fight her own smile, feeling some weird relief at saying all of it out loud. “I have issues. Clearly.”
“Maybe, maybe not.” He leaned closer, his voice like a coaxing caress. “Tell me. When you touch yourself, can you come?”
She glanced over at the other tables, praying no one was listening to the conversation. How could this man turn her palms sweaty and her skin hot in one quick second? Never in her life had anyone asked her about something so personal. “Uh, sometimes. If I can stay focused on…you know, whatever fantasy I’m conjuring up.”
“Then maybe it was the guys who had the issue, not you,” he said simply. “You didn’t seem to have a problem focusing the other day.”
“Your humility is truly inspiring,” she said with mock reverence.
He shrugged as if to say—take it or leave it. “Why do you think it was easier for you to enjoy it with me?”
“I don’t know. I felt…” Overtaken. Desired. Special. All things that seemed to be running themes in those private fantasies she weaved late at night. She met his eyes. “I felt like I was able to be someone else. To take a break from everything I’ve always been, how people always see me.”
“Is who you are so bad?”
“No,” she said, turning the question over in her head. “But I’m the girl guys like to go out drinking with to watch a game. I’m the chick they tell about their wild sexual escapades. Not the one they actually want to have the escapades with. And sometimes it sucks to know that men are so comfortable around you, they don’t even see you as a girl anymore.”
“Did I mention yet that the guys you’re hanging out with must be complete morons?”
The corner of her mouth hitched up. “But that’s the thing. With you, I don’t feel like that. I feel like you see me, the woman.”