Lane took a deep breath. If she banged her head against it, did that mean she would like the feel—-
She heard Angelo say in a distinctly clear voice, “Don’t be an imbecile, my Lane.”
Her head jerked up. “Did you just call me an imbecile?” But she was only pretending to be mad because, horrible masochist that she was, she liked the way he was teasing her.
Lane had a silly urge to cry.
Oh. My. GOSH.
She was really a masochist.
Angelo knew a nicer man would have felt dismayed at the look of agony on her face, but he was not like all nice men.
He was a wolf in sheep’s clothing, and Lane’s tormented expression gave him nothing but sadistic pleasure.
Even so, he tried to be nice, managing to murmur, “I’m sorry this has become such a shock.”
“You don’t sound sorry though,” she couldn’t help pointing out in a mumble.
He shrugged. “Well...if you wish me to be honest, no. I don’t. But then you understand why, don’t you?”
She nodded glumly.
“And you like me this way, don’t you?”
She turned red.
“I’ll take your silence as a yes.”
She glared at him, but since what he said was true—-
“Then tesoro, what is the problem?”
“Everything,” she cried out.
“Be more specific.”
“I’m not even halfway to understanding what being a masochist means, and now you’re telling me I’m a slave—-”
“I beg to differ,” he countered. “I said you were a Sub, or a Sub in the making—-”
“And Subs are slaves, aren’t they?” she demanded. Breathing hard, she closed her eyes for a moment so she could control her emotions, which felt like they were about to burst any moment. When she opened her eyes, she almost screamed at finding Angelo had silently leaned forward, and his face just an inch away from hers.
He pulled away, eyes gleaming with amusement, and she knew he had done it again.
“Sadist!” But her toes curled even as she threw the word at him like a curse.
He smiled beautifully at her just before saying, “Masochist.”
And her toes curled anew, as if to drive the point home.
“This, my Lane—-” His hands moved in an expressive gesture that was so typically Italian she almost smiled. “—-is how it will be between us. Forget what you’ve heard about other Subs and masochists. For us two, it will always be this good.”
He held her hand, taking her by surprise once more, and she froze when he brought it to his lips.
“Angelo,” she began uneasily.
“Between the two of us, it will be like...” He nipped her index finger, saying, “Master.” He nipped her third finger. “And.” He moved to the fourth, and by now she was ready to swoon. “Beloved.” Her body jerked as he moved to her pinky. “Pet.”
“Okay.” She was ready to give him anything by now, she just wanted him to make her feel good again.
He smiled at her.
She smiled back at him.
But then her mind started to work, and she choked out, “Excuse me? Did you just say I’m going to be like your pet?”
“A beloved pet,” he corrected.
“But it’s still a pet!”
“It’s a good thing,” he promised. “Trust me.”
“I don’t.”
“You’ll love being my pet.”
His voice had become an intoxicating mix of commanding and enticing, and oh gosh, she felt herself melting at the sound. Lane grimaced. “Okay,” she said reluctantly. “Maybe I will.”
His lips curved into a smile. “Good girl.”
He leaned away, and the sudden distance between them was like having a bucket of ice water thrown at her. And he probably knew that, too, she thought glumly.
He really was a sadist, a beautiful, fallen angel who refused to go to heaven because he was having too much fun torturing naïve mortals like her.
It was a terrifyingly sexy truth, and even more terrifying was that she really did like being tortured.
The silence that followed wasn’t exactly tense, but it wasn’t comfortable either.
“Would your parents mind if you don’t go home for spring break?”
Surprised at the question, she blurted out, “Are you saying you want me to stay?”
His gaze bored through her. “You already know the answer to that.”
Oh. She swallowed. Gosh. He wanted her to stay in town for spring break.
“T-they won’t mind,” she heard herself say.
“Good.” His tone was filled with satisfaction, and his smoldering gaze promised her a reward for giving him the answer he wanted.
Her toes curled. Was it bad that she was excited about the reward, even if it meant being tortured again?
“Do you have a place to stay here?”
Lane hesitated, thinking about her flat, which she had unfortunately sublet to a friend for spring break.
“Tesoro?”
A crazy idea occurred to her, and Lane heard herself say, “Well...I can think of a place.”
“I can take you there.” Angelo raised his cup to take another sip. “Where is it?”
“Wherever your place is.”
Chapter Six
Angelo choked on his coffee and quickly set it down. Whatever happened to his shy and old-fashioned Lane? When he saw that she was serious, he said flatly, “That’s not possible.”