Page 89 of Ask Me Something

I shrugged. “Keep the margaritas coming, and I might.”

After an amazing dinner, I sat back, stuffed, and contemplated a burning question. “I want to ask you something about the other women you’ve been with in these types of arrangements.”

He wavered and then took both of my hands. “Okay, ask me.”

“Were they more submissive? I mean, were you a lot more dominant with them?”

He looked at me for the longest time and then swallowed. “Yes.”

His answer bothered me more than I thought it would. His eyes hadn’t left mine, and I knew he waited for whatever I was about to say in response.

“Why haven’t you done it with me, then?”

He looked surprised and then shook his head. “Because for you, giving up any amount of control is a big step. I don’t want to do something you won’t enjoy.”

“But there’s more you could do?” I hedged, watching his eyes flash with interest before they hid it again.

“Sasha, one of the things that’s most attractive about you is that you do, in fact, challenge me. None of those other women did, in or out of the bedroom. It’s tough to explain, but the fact that you can test me intellectually and look at me with defiance even when I’m demanding is a bigger turn-on than ever having you be completely submissive. Plus I told you I’m not into pain or punishment. Pleasurable torture maybe, but not the other stuff.”

I swallowed hard. “What does pleasurable torture involve?”

Heat radiated from his eyes. “Do you honestly want to know?”

I nodded, taking another gulp of my drink. Something told me I was going to need it.

The waitress came over to clear our plates and ask if there was anything else we needed. Brian grinned. “Two shots of Patron, please.”

After our shots arrived and we went bottoms up, he sat back. “I’d like for you to make your way to the ladies’ room and take off your panties. Bring them to me.”

I sucked in my breath at his request and felt myself flush. For a brief moment, I contemplated denying him. But it didn’t make sense for me to do so. My consent to his requests merely heightened the sexual tension, and we both benefited from that. And I had, in fact, wanted the challenge. I knew it turned him on to see me accept it. “Excuse me a moment.” I slid my chair back and then made my way to the restroom.

Resuming my seat at the table, I passed him my thong underneath. Then I watched him ball it up in his hand and bring it up to his nose, inhaling. Jesus, this man made me feel on fire. Next he tucked it away in his pocket like nothing had happened. His chair moved closer to mine, and I held my breath in expectation of his hands on me, but they didn’t come.

“Did you want to check out the dance club?” he queried.

I quirked a brow. “You want to go dancing at a club?” I couldn’t see it.

“Mm-hmm.”

Given our earlier conversation, I was disappointed we weren’t heading back up to the room, but I tried to hide it.

He took my hand, and we made our way to the nightclub on the other side of the resort. Their version of a club turned out to be a bar with a dance floor. We found a dark corner booth easily as there was hardly anyone here yet.

He slid in next to me, and I sucked in my breath when his hand found my thigh. I wasn’t sure what you could see, if anything, under the table, but Brian didn’t seem to care.

“Did you mean what you said earlier about wanting to know what pleasurable torture was?” he asked gruffly.

Desire coursed through me, but so did trepidation. I nodded, keeping my eyes trained on him.

“Open,” he commanded.

I swallowed hard, slightly spreading my legs for him.

“Further. No one can see under the table.”

As soon as I did so, his hand glided along my inner thigh and then right up into the heat.

“You’re burning up here. And drenched already, aren’t you?” His fingertips skimmed my slit, teasing.

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