Initiation (Master Class, #1) - Sierra Cartwright Page 0,26
you being sarcastic?”
“Me?” He opened the door for her.
She zipped past him, glad to be out of the soul-sapping cold.
After exchanging a few words with the owner, Jennifer meandered to the skirt rack. Logan dutifully held her cup while she selected one and held it in front of her to check the length. “It’d be perfect for work.”
“Can I start a fitting room for you?” the owner asked, appearing at the perfect time.
“Thanks.” Jennifer handed over the skirt then wandered toward a tabletop stacked with sweaters.
“The red one,” Logan said.
“It looks as if it’s a size too small.”
“Try it.”
Skeptically, she picked it up.
But once she had the outfit on, she knew he was right.
“Show me,” he said.
She slid back the curtain and exited the fitting room.
“I was wrong.” His voice was tight. “You’re not wearing that sweater anywhere but on a date with me. It’s sensational.”
“It’s perfect,” the proprietress agreed.
Even though Jennifer was reluctant, she changed back into her other clothes.
The shop also had a selection of lingerie.
“I’d like to see you in these,” he told her, picking up a pair of purple panties and a matching bra.
She met his gaze then looked at the delicate briefs in his strong hands. Wanting to be dominated by him again, she nodded.
And didn’t protest when he purchased the gorgeous, feminine undergarments.
“Thank you for not arguing,” he said when he opened the shop door for her. “I told you I prefer to reward good behavior. And I will.”
She shivered in a way that had nothing to do with the gusting wind.
They stopped at the taco place and picked up ingredients to make fajitas later. She could get accustomed to spending time with Logan if he was going to treat her this way. That thought was as terrifying as it was thrilling.
As he opened the vehicle door, her phone signaled an incoming message.
“Noelle,” she said.
She let her friend know she wasn’t in trouble for setting up the evening.
Weather looks bad. You should stay over tonight, too.
Jennifer’s heart lurched. She’d been planning to spend part of the day with Logan, but any longer seemed far too intimate.
“Anything important?” he asked when he was seated next to her with the engine running.
“That was from Noelle.” She debated how to reply before settling on, “She said the place is available and we don’t have to leave.”
Another text came in.
Don’t worry about cleaning. We have a housekeeper scheduled for Monday.
He looked at her.
Instant response slid through her. She already had it bad for this man.
“What do you want to do?”
“I’m not sure,” she hedged.
“I’m a greedy man, Jennifer. I’ll take as much of your time as you’re willing to give me. An hour, a day, another night, a week, maybe even more.”
“More?”
“Yeah. But for tonight, I have a few ideas on how we can pass the time.”
“Oh?”
“The first one involves the coffee table.”
“The…” She stared at him. “Really?”
He nodded.
“I’d never thought of it as bondage equipment.”
“Everything is. Tell Noelle we’re staying.”
A big fat snowflake plopped on the windshield. Despite that, his comment had warmed her insides. She was curious. And it turned out that she, too, was greedy. “In that case, Sir…consider it done. Show me what you have in mind.”
Chapter Seven
Once they were inside with the door sealed to block out the blustery wind, Logan discarded their empty cups then put away the food before calling out, “Please take off all your clothes and bend over the coffee table.”
Though she should have expected the order, the suddenness of it caught her off guard.
She went into the living room. Her pulse stuttered as she toed off her boots then pulled down her tights.
Jennifer looked into the kitchen and noticed he wasn’t paying any attention to her.
With a scowl, she finished undressing then got into position, or at least she hoped it was the position he wanted. She bent over and placed her palms on the tabletop.
He went down the hallway, and time stretched.
Outside, the wind whipped against the house and snow started to hit the window.
Her skin chilled, more from the sensual exposure than the temperature. Her shoulder muscles began to ache.
She was tempted to stand or at least stretch. Indecision warred in her. Her Dom expected to have his orders followed. But what would it hurt to move, even a little?
But Logan’s earlier words, about rewarding good behavior, teased her subconscious, sending a rush of anticipation through her. The desire to have his positive attention was more powerful than her need to move.
She closed her eyes, took