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Well, that answered that question. And why shouldn’t she sleep with him? Chloe hooked up with different guys all the time. Did they sell condoms at a store like this? Did she have the nerve to throw a box of them into the cart? What would he say? What would he think of her? Was he even interested?

A fishing rod, lures, snacks, and boots were all loaded in the cart before they hit the clothing section. The options there weren’t really her style—all khakis and cotton—but she supposed camping was more about practicality than fashion.

In a small fitting room, buried at the back of the clothing department, she tried things on while he waited patiently nearby.

She slipped on a pair of khaki hiking shorts that Luke had picked out and grunted at her reflection.

“What’s wrong?” Luke said. His voice was so close, almost like he was in the room with her.

She buttoned the top then turned as she looked herself over in the mirror. “There are a million pockets! What could one person need with so many damned pockets?”

“Let me see.”

“What?” She spun around, as if he’d burst through the door.

“Come out and let me see,” he prompted, as though he had every right to give her orders. She obeyed before she gave it much thought.

Slowly, she opened the door. And then he was there, staring down at her with a satisfied smile.

Tension zinged between them, unspoken.

“Turn around.”

Following the harmless command felt bizarrely sexual, but then, his tone when he’d told her to do it had been far from innocent. And his voice? God, the man had a sexy voice.

Maybe she arched her back more than she needed to, and played with her hair too much, but she wasn’t about to just announce her interest. How did a girl tell a guy she was possibly open to having sex in a six-person tent that night? At parties she’d seen Chloe at work, but she’d never tried it herself.

For an insane moment, she thought she heard a hum of appreciation from him. Then he cleared his throat. “Well, pockets can be handy for carrying things. Pocketknife. Protein bar. Camera. Bear spray . . .”

“Bear spray?” She felt her eyes go wide.

He chuckled, making his breath whisper across her forehead. Her eyes drifted shut. He was standing too damn close. She turned to walk back into the fitting room, but he caught the door before she could swing it closed. He backed her into the small space, using his body like a wall to block her from escaping, grinning down at her in a way that made her breath catch. God, this close up he was huge, and so dangerous looking. She didn’t even know him, really. Why was she encouraging this?

He must have spotted her hesitation, because he stepped back. “Are you scared?”

It took a minute for her to find her voice. “Of bears?”

He laughed. “Of me.”

“Oh.” Was she? No. She probably should have been, considering how they’d met, but he really didn’t set off any of her internal creep alarms. “No, I—” She broke off, trying to swallow down the drumming in her ears. “I’m just shy. I don’t know how to flirt very well . . .” She stumbled over what she was trying to say, feeling like a huge idiot.

“If you want me to stop, say ‘red.’” He stepped closer. The resonance of his deep voice tickled something low in her belly. “The word ‘red’ will work every single time, no matter what we’re doing.”

Of course. Why hadn’t she realized he was one of those?

A few months ago there’d been a giggling discussion between Chloe and Priya about safewords, so she knew exactly what kind of guy gave a girl the “red” talk. She’d tried not to think about it afterward, but the titillating details of what one of Chloe’s dates had done to her had been replaying in Ophelia’s mind. She’d imagined being bossed around and tied up, and maybe, just maybe, she’d gone to look at a porn site. The one she’d seen had been too extreme for her, though, and it had scared her enough to make her stick to her imagination after that.

How much of the rough stuff was he into? How much could she handle? For a moment her heart beat erratically. She should have run screaming, but all she could manage was to blink up at him and try not to panic. Chloe had said all the power was actually with the one submitting, since they had the safeword. They could veto anything and they could walk away anytime.

“Okay,” she said, her voice shaking.

Oh god, he was so . . . muscle-y. He was going to break her if he was into anything too crazy.

He slid the lock shut behind him, then turned back to her.

Here?

“Um . . . what are you doing?”


Tags: Sparrow Beckett Masters of Adrenaline Erotic