Page 17 of Forbidden Heat

I shoot him a look as I go to the door. “I’m not sure anything scandalizes them. They’re used to you, after all.”

The look I get back says I’ll pay for that comment later.

I can’t wait.

* * *

At breakfast,Cam announces, “I’m going to have a small dinner party at the end of this month.”

“Oh! Who’s coming?” Then it hits me that maybe he doesn’t want me there. He’s talked about us having an “arrangement,” but as far as I can tell that only includes punishments and sex.

Not exactly the sort of person you introduce to your friends.

“I can … go somewhere for the night,” I amend. “Or just stay in my room.”

He scowls at me. “You most certainly will not. Do you think I’m ashamed of you? Hiding you?”

I duck my head. The next moment, he’s got me out of my chair and in his lap. “I ought to spank you right here,” he mutters.

When I shift, restless, Cam gets a gleam in his eye. “Aha. My Haley has a streak of exhibitionism.”

My face goes hot. “I do not!”

He whispers in my ear, “You, bare-assed, over my knee, while the Jamesons watch.”

I tell myself it’s shock, not some kinky thrill, chasing down my spine. But there’s no denying the sudden warmth between my legs. “Stop that,” I tell him, but I can’t make it sound convincing.

Leaning back far enough to see my face, he says, “Would it be more exciting if the watchers were strangers? Or people you knew?”

I freak out at the odd, electric energy his words send coursing through my body. “Not. Talking. About this.”

“All right. Conversation tabled.” He’s practically smirking, far too pleased with his discovery, and I know I haven’t heard the last of it. “Back to our original topic. I’m not hiding you from anyone.”

“Okay.” I don’t want to fight with him about this. “I’m sorry.”

“We’ve had a very … irregular beginning, you and I. I’m sorry it’s left you feeling uncertain.”

“It’s okay.” I’m feeling oddly bashful, ashamed of doubting him while he’s being so solicitous of my emotions.

“No. I’ll do better. Right now, though, I have to get to work. But first …”

He swings my legs around, and then I’m face down over his lap. “Cam,” I hiss. “Cam!”

No answer. His hand comes down, but he’s not really spanking me, just gently patting my ass so it doesn’t make any sound. A simulated spanking, if you will. But every time his hand touches me, I get a jolt right through my core, arrowing straight to my clit.

When he sits me up again, I can’t even imagine what the mix of emotions on my face must look like. “A little experiment,” he says mildly, helping me stand and rising himself. “Something for you to think about.”

“We can’t — you don’t — I mean, not really—”

“There are ways of … accommodating that.” His thumb brushes my lower lip, and my knees go weak. “I want your pleasure, Haley. In every way possible.”

On that note, he strolls out. I lower myself shakily into my chair and watch him go, then stare blankly at the wall, my mind a whirl, until Mrs. Jameson asks if I’m all right and do I want any more food.

“No, thank you,” I say absently, and wander out. I’ve spent the last week exploring the house and the grounds, reading lots of books in the library (separate from the collection in the study), and mooning over Cameron. I’m seized with a sudden, compelling desire for action.

When he comes back down the stairs a few minutes later, ready to leave, I’m waiting for him. “Cam?”

“Yes, Haley?”

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