Dangerously Bad (Dangerous #3)

“Nothing.” But even the sound of his baritone voice was making her toes curl.

His tone lowered even more. “It doesn’t sound like ‘nothing.’ Perhaps you’re doing some heavy lifting? I know I have been, ever since we said good night. Oh, yes, I know that’s more than most people want to know. But we’re not ‘most people,’ are we? Especially not together. No, together we could make a fucking bonfire with the chemistry between us. Tell me it’s not true and I’ll stop.”

Fuck.

Just do it. Or don’t.

She bit her lip. Goddamn it—why had she picked up the phone? Why was he saying these things to her now, when her body was still thrumming with climax? When she felt helpless to say no to him? But maybe it was time she stopped running scared. Maybe it was time she said yes to the one man—he’d been right about that—she couldn’t say no to.

She blew out a long breath, trying to center herself. It didn’t help much. “Okay. But, Duff . . . Look, I am telling you again I’m not one of your little slave girls who’ll come kneeling at your feet and following your directives without question.”

“I understand that. I don’t expect you to be a slave, mine or anyone else’s. But if we move forward, you will follow my directives without question during play, unless I violate our negotiated terms or you come up against an unexpected trigger or you need to safe-word. You know you would expect the same from anyone who submitted to you.”

“Yes. True.”

“Yes, you agree to what I just said, or yes, you agree to my earlier proposal?”

She had to grin. “It’s more a proposition than a proposal.”

He chuckled. “Excellent point, my lovely. So, which is it? Or do we need to talk more?”

She took her lower lip between her teeth once more, then released it—and released some of the tight control she always held over every aspect of her life, and none more than kink. “You promise to stay within any negotiated boundaries?”

“If you don’t trust me to do so, then we really don’t have any more to discuss here.”

“You’re right. I’m sorry. I’m not used to being on this end of things anymore. It’s been a very long time.”

“You can tell me about that when you’re ready, other than as it pertains to any triggers. What is your answer, then? You know I need to hear it in plain words.”

A small, nervous laugh slipped out. “I’m probably a little crazy for saying this, but yes. Let’s do this. I will bottom for you. Submit to you, as much as I’m able. I think . . . I think it’s time I worked through some of my issues, and maybe this is the time. Maybe you’re the man to do this with.”

“Oh, darlin’, I can guarantee I am the man to do this with. Now—when can we meet to go over negotiations? Are you available one evening this week?”

God, she was really doing this! She had to buy some time, a minute to breathe.

“How about Friday after you’re done with work?”

“Good,” he agreed. “Let’s meet for coffee at six thirty. You name the place.”

She nodded to the empty room. “There’s a little place in my neighborhood called Swamp Water. I’ll text you the address.”

“Excellent. And, Layla? Just in case you had any doubt, I’m very, very glad you’ve agreed to this.”

“To be honest, I’m not entirely certain I am.”

“Ah, sure you are, lovely. You’re far too strong and decisive a woman to have it any other way.”

She found her cheeks heating in a blush, and not because she was still lying half naked, spread-eagled and postorgasm on her bed. She was pleased to know he thought of her that way. Pleased and flattered.

You are behaving like an infatuated teenager.

She cleared her throat. “I’m glad you see me for who I am.”

“Oh, trust me—I do.”

“Why does everything you say sound suggestive?”

“Probably because beneath everything I say, I’m suggesting something. And you know exactly what it is.”

Laughing, she let one hand trail over her breast. Her nipple hardened. “At least you’re honest.”

“I am that. Until Friday, then. Sweet dreams, Layla. I know mine will be.”

Before she could say anything, he’d hung up.

She shook her head. If it had been anyone else talking to her this way she’d have been totally pissed off. But she understood quite well that this was a power play. And she liked it.

Tossing her cell phone on the bed, she sat up and ran a hand through her hair.

“What. The. Fuck am I doing?”

Flopping back onto the bed, she pressed her fisted hands against her eyes, but it did nothing but bring the image of Duff’s too-handsome face to mind.

“Ugh!”

She almost wanted to call Kitty, but she was still too breathless from coming so damn hard. And a part of her wanted to keep this bit of information all to herself for the moment. Which meant there was nothing else to do but work.

Getting up from the bed, she grabbed from her closet the old faded black sundress she wore when she was working and slipped into it, then her beat-up steel-toed work boots. She gathered her hair and put it up in a clip as she moved into the living room. There she took her studio key from the old lamp it hung on by a long leather cord and stepped outside, crossing the driveway to the big garage she rented from her landlords.

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