He pierced her with a stare as he crossed the floor to stand beside the giant wooden X. Manacles dangled from heavy-duty bolts both at top and bottom. “I’m not playing. Come here and present yourself.”
She looked at the apparatus, shoving down a shiver of apprehension. “If we’re a team, I need to know what’s going on. We should discuss how to proceed with this training.”
His stare grew icy. “We may be a team, but I’m in charge. I didn’t give you permission to speak. First warning. Come here and do as you’re told or we’ll start our time together with a hell of a spanking.”
Spanking, as in his hand on my ass? The thought rippled through her with an involuntary blast of heat. Tara didn’t waste her breath to challenge Logan and say that he wouldn’t dare. He would.
Damn it. Why did that make her panties damp?
She approached him, stopping a few safe feet away.
He raised a brow. “You can’t follow my simple instructions, but you’re going to breeze through some slave-peddling ass**le trying to mold you into the perfect submissive while you search for your missing agent?”
Tara paused. As much as she wanted to hate him now . . . he was right. Until Thorpe assigned her a new Dom, she was stuck with Logan. And whatever the situation, she had to control her anger—and her anxiety that Logan would touch her.
Drawing in a deep breath, Tara dropped down into the pose Axel had taught her, sitting back on her heels, legs spread as much as her skirt allowed, palms up on her thighs, shoulders back, head down.
Logan walked a slow circle around her, his stare touching her everywhere. Though she kept in good shape, Tara had a generous booty no matter how much she exercised. But she didn’t care if Logan loathed her figure. Brad, her fiancé, liked it just fine.
Logan crouched in front of her. “Look at me.”
Tara met his stare with cool challenge.
That blue gaze penetrated her defenses, and despite wearing a skirt, blouse, and heels, she felt stark naked. Her skin grew hot and tight as he scrutinized her.
“There’s nothing wrong with the form of the pose itself, as I’m sure you know. You always studied every subject thoroughly. That won’t be enough to slide by with submission. What matters is not merely that you obey, but that there’s obedience in your heart.
“You dropped into position quickly when I reminded you about your fellow agent’s well-being,” he went on. “But you didn’t come to me with any desire to please me. You spoke after I told you to remain silent. I see anger all over your face.”
She blanked her expression and stared through him. “I’ll try harder next time.”
“You may not have a next time. Agent Miles doesn’t.”
He was right. Shit, this arrangement was never going to work. Yes, she needed to keep her head in the game, but there was too much past between them that she couldn’t seem to forget. If she was going to stop wasting time and get rid of Logan, she needed to do it now.
Tara slanted him an innocent stare. “Did you wish to spank me?”
“Yep, like the bratty sub you’re being, until you think twice about letting your temper get the best of you. That will be fatal in the field. Unless, of course, you’d like to quit the mission and send a more experienced agent in your place.”
“Hell no. Unlike you, I don’t turn my back on others.”
A muscle ticked in Logan’s cheek. “I still didn’t give you permission to speak. That’s something that won’t be tolerated when you’re undercover. For that, I’ll punish you with two swats, in addition to the five I’d already decided to give you for running to Thorpe instead of working your differences out with me. For cursing, I’m adding another two. For failing to address me as ‘Logan,’ I’ll add three more.”
Neither Axel nor Robert had touched her all week. Nor had she wanted them to. But against her will, Tara flashed hot at the dizzying number of blows Logan promised to inflict on her ass. Her womb cramped. Damn it, she shouldn’t react like this with him. “Don’t most of you control freaks want to be called Sir or Master?”
He laughed. It wasn’t a nice sound. “Usually. For you, I’m making an exception. I want to hear my name on your lips so I know you’re aware of exactly who’s making you come.”
Tara bit her tongue. She’d love to toss his self-assurance back in his face and vow there was no way in hell he’d arouse her enough to climax. But if he’d managed to make a virgin gasp and claw and melt in his arms at sixteen, what could a grown man do to a woman hungry for another orgasm like that? It was a nonissue. They wouldn’t be together that long.
“You don’t get to make me come. That’s my fiancé’s role.”
“I’d read that you were engaged to Brad Thompson. I figured you’d fall in love with someone who had at least a shred of honor.”
“Since he didn’t lie to me to steal my innocence, then dump me flat the next day, I’d say he’s a huge step up from you.”
Logan tensed, fists clenching, muscles bunching, veins bulging. “When you’re with me, the man is irrelevant. His name does not cross your lips. That ring comes off your finger. Are we clear?”
It bothered him to see her wearing a symbol of Brad’s possession. She smiled and slowly peeled it off before placing it in her skirt pocket. “As long as you understand that you’re not to touch me sexually. I choose to give him my orgasms.”