I shrug. The truth is, I wish I fucking knew. “A real man takes care of his lady’s needs before his own. Don’t forget, everything is a lesson. Once I turn you loose back into the dating world, I want you to remember all of this, and not to settle for something less than you deserve.”
She nods, then takes a seat in one of the oversized upholstered chairs at the edge of the dining room, slipping off her heels and curling her legs under her.
“Besides, my mother always used to say ‘manners make the man.’”
“That’s nice,” she says.
“The fifteen-year-old me didn’t think so. I didn’t see why manners were something I had to think about when my friends didn’t care, and the girls in school seemed to go for the guys who treated them like they were disposable.”
Brielle’s quiet, but I can tell she’s hanging on my every word. I rarely talk about my past, and I’ve never shared with her something about my mother.
“When I questioned her, my mother told me that acting like a gentleman would make smart, beautiful women notice me and important men want to give me a job.”
“And was she right?” Brielle asks, a smile creeping into her voice.
“I should say so.” I toss a wink at her over my shoulder.
I can’t resist mixing her the same cocktail she ordered that first night. The timid set of her shoulders and flushed cheeks had my cock hardening even then. She sat at the bar alone, quietly sipping this very drink as she waited for me to change her entire world.
I’m playing nice right now, but the sinking feeling in my gut reminds me that tonight is a one-time deal. I’m supposed to be showing her every wicked thing in my playbook, reaffirming her decision that the man she really wants isn’t me. We’ll see if I can pull that off. Because, hell, I’m fucking terrified I’d change my entire life if she asked me to.
Focusing on my game face, I hand her a crystal tumbler filled with peach liqueur, ice, and fizzy club soda. She brings her lips to the glass and smiles when she tastes it.
“You remembered.”
“Of course. It’s my job to remember my clients’ likes and dislikes.”
Her smile fades at the word client. I sense we both know that she’s so much more to me. All the effort I’ve put into tonight should prove that.
After we’ve polished off our second round of drinks and our plates are empty, the mood grows heavy around us.
Brielle’s gaze floats over to where my black bag is still sitting beside the door.
I raise one eyebrow at the slow smile that blooms on her lips. “You seem eager.”
“You said no ropes, whips, or chains, so why should I be anything other than excited?”
“Just because I’m not going to tie you up and flog you tonight doesn’t mean you won’t be at my mercy.”
My tongue slipped and said tonight, but what I really meant was ever. This is it, and I need to remember that.
Brielle looks contemplative, and I wonder when she’s going to grace me with the thoughts lurking in her mind. It only takes a few more sips from her cocktail. “What’s the end game here?”
“The end game?” Hell, now I’m really curious.
She swirls the drink in her glass. “I’m just curious. It’s obvious you have a well-paying job. You wear suits to work and can afford places like this,” she gestures to the posh hotel suite, “and I know you’re not looking to find a companion. So why do it?”
“We covered this before, Brielle. I like instructing. I like taking a woman where she’s never dared to go before. I like being the one to open her eyes to something more.”
She chews on her lip, unsatisfied with my response. “Do you think you’ll ever give it up?”
Her questions have gotten too personal. I could put a stop to this right now with one barked command, but I won’t. She wants to poke around in my head, but I doubt she’ll like what she finds. “Not planning on it.”
“So even if you found the perfect sub, someone you were compatible with inside and outside the bedroom, you wouldn’t stop seeing clients?”
That would take a huge leap of faith on my part, and trust is something I have a hard time with, given my past. The wounds are still fresh. Raw. I can’t bare myself that completely with her, not while she’s still hung up on Kirby.
Rising to my feet, I head to the door to retrieve the bag. “Go into the bedroom, take off your coat, and wait for me.”
Wordlessly, she obeys, her soft footfalls on the carpet fading down the hall.
I grab a few ice cubes from the bar before heading that way myself. When I step into the bedroom, she’s standing near the dresser in the large room, running her fingers along the crystal vase that rests there. The curve of her ass in the G-string has my cock swelling.
I stand behind her and lower my mouth to her ear. “Turn around and let me see you.”
She turns slowly, letting me appreciate the full effect of her curves filling out the delicate lingerie.
Jesus. Fuck. I slip one of the ice cubes into her mouth. “Suck.”
Her eyes widen and zero in on mine. I love it how my simplest command surprises her. Her lips close around the ice, and her eyes flutter closed. With the other ice cube, I circle her belly button, and her stomach jumps in surprise.
“You’re mine tonight. My plaything. To do with what I wish. Do you understand?”
She nods slowly.
“Answer me, pet.”