Exposed Exposed (Dom Nation #1) - E. Davies Page 0,41

can work out… a fair payment.”

“A top-up bonus?” I countered, and when he looked startled, I grinned. “Because you already seem pretty happy having an excuse to let all the guys look at you.”

My voice was a lot sharper than I’d meant it to be—tight with a potent fear.

What if he meets another Dom who’s better for him? Shouldn’t I want that for him?

“Woof,” Slate breathed through pursed lips. “I thought those eyes were naturally green.”

But he seemed pleased with himself, too. I realized why a moment later. My jealousy was confirmation of his suspicions that I wanted him. Since for some crazy reason he didn’t seem to realize how fucking out of character I was acting. And how could he know? We’d only just met.

Goddamn, Slate. Of course I want you, I thought, sighing as his cheeks rounded with a pleased smile. Too much for your own good. But he’d run a mile if I told him why I was holding myself back.

“Have a cupcake,” I told him instead, brushing past him and ignoring the sparks of pleasure that danced along my skin at the moment of contact. I retrieved the last cupcake from its hiding place and set it on a plate, then handed it over with a napkin.

Slate grinned. “And you said you don’t do sugary sweet.”

Had I? It took me a moment to remember that conversation, and my laugh was sudden and startled. Slate was much too sharp in mind and tongue to allow me to be the slick, cool, confident Dom most people saw.

“Well, only now and then,” I rebutted after a few moments too long, my cheeks burning. “Don’t tell anyone.” So I couldn’t stare at his tongue, which was currently lasciviously drawing around the tips of his fingers, I walked away to close the blinds.

While my back was turned, Slate said, “DN’s open for a couple more hours.”

Fuck. I lowered the blinds on the windows, meticulously locking one at a time. “Yes…” I answered, my chest thumping. Finally, I cleared my throat as I turned to look at him. “I was thinking that myself,” I admitted.

Slate grinned. “Were you also thinking about a drink? And a dance?”

“I was thinking of asking a certain boy for those things,” I told him, keeping a straight face. “But it looks like he’s trying to give orders again.”

Slate’s eyes went wide, and he froze against the counter. “No…?” His voice was high and hopeful, like he was trying out the answer that would get him what he wanted.

And what he wanted was obvious. It had been all along. But I wasn’t strong enough to resist it any longer.

I walked closer to him, untying the strings of my leather apron. “So, if I extended an invitation to a boy,” I started softly and paused. I hid a smile at the way he eagerly rocked forward like he was memorizing it all. “It would mean accepting my role as his Daddy for that night.”

I was toe-to-toe with Slate now, and I tilted my head back to peer the four inches or so up into his eyes. Slate gulped loudly.

“And in turn, I’d expect that boy to listen to me, and behave.”

God. What the hell was I doing? Seb was right—I should send him home and stop stringing him along. I couldn’t be his Daddy; he couldn’t be my boy.

Sorry, Seb. I can’t stop dicking him around. I hated the guilt that swirled in my gut, but I needed just one more adrenaline rush. One more intoxicating night savoring Slate’s sweet submission.

Like I deserved it.

Unaware of the turmoil wracking me, Slate was beaming. “Yes, sir,” he whispered. He straightened up, pushing away from the counter and standing with his hands by his sides. “I can listen. And obey. And serve. You’ve seen me do it.”

I sure as fuck had. It made electric pulses ripple through my body, straight down to my cock, just remembering him. When I closed my eyes, all I saw was Slate on his knees, offering up his whole body and spirit.

And fuck, I couldn’t deny it—I was a little bit angry, too. That he’d so lightly chosen me, not knowing everything he should about who I was. He was naive and gullible. Anyone could see that a mile off.

But if I was taking advantage of him, who was at fault? Me.

I licked my lips, ruthlessly stifled the guilt within, and let the ruse continue—the pure intentions and steadfast force of will I was faking for his