There were many responses to that, but before I could organize my thoughts, the bell sounded at the door. I jumped, my arms going immediately across my body as if that would somehow hide my nakedness.
“No,” Tyler said, with a firm shake of his head. Whatever playfulness had been between us evaporated. This was the man in control again. The man who had told me to come here tonight only if I understood that I had to play by his rules. This was the man who had meant it.
“Sit,” he said, nodding at the couch.
I froze, my skin suddenly clammy. “What?”
“Sit,” he repeated, then led me to the couch. He put my knees on the cushions, my hands on either side of my hips. The bell rang again. “Just a minute,” he called.
“No,” I said “No way.”
“Oh, yes,” he said, then gently cupped my breast. His thumb flicked over my nipple, and I sucked in air. “You’re smart, Sloane. You understand the game.”
“I’m not sure I understand anything anymore.”
“I said I would win. You’re my prize, Sloane. To tease, to touch, to pleasure. But mine, nonetheless. Tonight, I own you. And that means that there are rules.”
Something that might have been fear riffled through me. Might have been—but I think it was really excitement. “I have to obey you.”
“If you’re here, you do. But you have the choice. You can put your dress back on. You can walk out that door. But I don’t think you’re going to do that.”
“Why not?” My mouth was so dry I could barely speak.
“Because I saw your face when I touched you in the corridor, the two of us surrounded by the waitstaff, pretending like they didn’t see. That they didn’t care. There’s a thrill in being exposed. In being just a little naughty.” He held my eyes, and I thought in that moment that I had no secrets from this man. “You may not break the rules, Sloane, but I’d bet good money that you’ll stretch them as far as you can.”
I felt my pulse kick up, and knew it was from the truth of his words.
“It excites you, doesn’t it? Knowing that you’re mine. Knowing that by surrendering to me, you’re capturing me as well.”
“Yes.” The word was a whisper.
“And you have captured me,” he said. “Because this isn’t about what I want, but about what you do to me. And dear god, Sloane, you have driven me to the edge.”
He drew his fingers through his hair and I could see the truth on his face. The heat, the lust. The intensity of his self-control. He was like a spring wound tight, I couldn’t wait for him to come undone.
“Tyler.” His name felt ripped out of me, and so help me, I wanted him to keep pushing, to spread my legs wide and to finally touch me and release this sweet, relentless pressure.
“So I think you’re going to stay,” he continued, almost conversationally. “I could be wrong. It happens on occasion. You might storm out of here and never look back. You might slap my face and tell me to go to hell. It is within the realm of possibility.”
“I might,” I said. I sure as hell should.
But I knew that I wouldn’t.
Chapter Nine
He turned, and without another word stepped out of my line of sight and into the foyer. I sat there, my heart pounding. My skin tingling. I was aware of every tiny hair on my body, as if I’d gotten lost in an electrical storm. Tiny beads of perspiration rose on the back of my neck. I wanted to bolt—and yet I wanted to stay.
I told myself it was because of the op—because I had to get close to the man, and how the hell could I do that if I walked out on him? But that wasn’t true.
I wanted to stay because he wanted me to. Because I’d seen the promise in his eyes of what was still to come.
And because, god help me, he was right—I wanted to bend the rules.