The laugh burst out of him, echoing up the vaulted ceilings. “Over my stove?”
“Shh.”
But he couldn’t help himself. “So if I ever need to get you in the mood, I should have kitchen catalogs on hand?”
She spun around with a smirk, but he couldn’t help but notice the sharp little points now pressing against that fitted top.
He chuckled even harder.
“What?” she asked, pressing her lips together, obviously on the verge of a laugh herself.
He waved a hand in her direction, trying to keep his eyes from straying downward again, to no avail. “Nothing. Never mind.”
“Oh, come on. What?” Then she followed his glance and saw what was impossible to miss. She crossed her arms over her chest, mock offense on her face. “Hey, it’s cold in here. And my hair’s still a little wet.”
He nodded solemnly. “Uh-huh. Or you just got turned on by a range.”
She harrumphed and snagged a bag of oranges he’d taken out of one of the grocery sacks, turning to the opposite counter and keeping those perky nipples out of view. “Hey, we all have our kinks, right?”
“Clearly. Makes mental note to bring a spatula and a wooden spoon on our trip to satisfy your kitchen fetish.”
She made a noise that sounded suspiciously like a snort. God, sexy and so fucking cute on top of it.
“So what’s with the groceries?” he asked.
She turned around and shrugged. “I had heard the weather was supposed to get bad and thought we’d eat here instead. Plus, considering the things we have to discuss, I figured a private setting may be better.”
He leaned against the island. “You could’ve mentioned it to me. I would’ve have Ms. Murel prepare something for us before she left for the day.”
The side of her mouth lifted. “I thought I’d cook for you. You know, as a thank you. And because I enjoy it and rarely get to do it for someone outside of the cafe.”
“Oh.” The idea warmed him in a surprising way, that she’d want to prepare something for him. He couldn’t remember the last time someone not on his payroll had made a home-cooked meal for him. Even growing up, meals were always cooked by staff. “Well, I’d like that.”
The smile that crossed her face brightened the whole room. “Good. You sit down then, and we can work out the stuff for the trip while I get things prepared. I’m going for simple since I’m starved and don’t have the patience to wait for anything slow-cooked.”
“Simple sounds great.” He sat down on one of the stools at the island and pointed out where everything was as she set up her prep area.
Once she had the tools she needed and started chopping some of the vegetables for the pasta dish she was making, she got right down to business. “I know you want to talk about negotiating limits and such. But I don’t think we need to spend a lot of time on that. I’m not a novice, so I know what those checklists look like. My main hard limit is that I’m not into verbal humiliation. I’ve been called enough names in my life. I don’t want my lover doing it. Also, I don’t want to be shared.”
He frowned. “I would never do that, Kelsey. That’s not my style.”
She expertly sliced through an onion, her movements sure and efficient. “Good.”
“How do you feel about pain play?” he asked, fascinated as she scooped the diced onion to the side and ran the knife through a pile of mushrooms with delicate precision.
Something flickered across her features. Fear? But she quickly covered it. “I can’t handle canes, single-tailed whips, knife play, or face slapping. And nothing that would require me to take something stronger than aspirin the next day. I try to stay away from medications.”
He nodded. He suspected there was much more behind those limits than she was letting on. The medication one was a pretty obvious tell—she was running from a drug dealer after all. But the expression that had crossed her face at the mention of pain play had a cold feeling gripping his gut. He wanted to ask her more about it, but promised himself he wouldn’t push her anymore tonight. “Fine. Any other hard limits?”
“No. And I’m on the pill and have my medical reports with me. I also got yours this week. So if you want to skip condoms, I’m okay with that.”
He steepled his fingers in front of him, considering her. He didn’t go without condoms. Ever. He trusted that Kelsey was telling the truth about her birth control, but he couldn’t take even the slightest risk that she wasn’t. He’d seen how pregnancy could be used as a weapon, especially when one person was from a certain lot in life and the other wasn’t. The thought was ugly, but he wasn’t going to let the wildly enticing thought of being inside Kelsey bare make him stupid. “I prefer to use condoms regardless.”
She glanced up at him, her gaze knowing and a little wry. She shrugged. “No problem. The safe words at The Ranch are yellow for a pause and a check-in and Texas for everything to stop. Are you okay with me using those?”
“Whatever is easiest for you to remember.” He couldn’t help but notice how she’d taken control of the negotiation. What had happened tonight had obviously sent her back to her comfort zone of calling the shots. He let it slide. For now.
She gathered all the veggies in a bowl and brought them over to the stove where she heated a pan and drizzled some olive oil in it. “So let’s get to the important stuff. Do I need a fake name? Like are people going to expect me to have some recognizable well-to-do family name?”