Page 24 of For the Sub

“And being with your zoo is better.”

She smiled, accepting his teasing peace offering. “I prefer the term menagerie.”

“Zoo,” he insisted.

She gave him a quick hug.

After giving instructions to the valet to bring her car around, Gregorio pulled out her coat from the back of the closet. Then he helped her into it and walked her to her vehicle.

“You have my phone number,” he reminded her.

“I won’t need it.” She fastened the safety belt across her lap. “You would annoy the hell out of me if I didn’t love you so much.”

“You annoy me because I love you so much.” He closed the door and stepped back.

On the drive, she struggled to stay focused.

She arrived home to loud barks and a ridiculous number of meows, and she grinned.

Maybe Gregorio had been right.

She needed her menagerie of misfit and abandoned animals.

After taking care of them all, memories that she’d been shoving aside for the last hour returned full force.

And she realized she’d been frustrated with Gregorio because—damn him—he’d been right.

With Master Niles, she hadn’t been professional at all.

She’d wanted to scene with him, be with him. But she’d wanted him to see her as an individual, rather than a professional hired to perform a job.

Tonight, she’d broken one of her cardinal rules. She’d allowed their time together to mean something to her.

Brandy turned on the radio and cranked up the volume, hoping to drown out her thoughts.

How long had it been since she’d allowed herself to be a woman, to experience, to feel?

Suddenly, she was breathless.

Being with him, having him fuck her so hard that she’d all but forgotten her own name, brought her back to life.

Now what am I supposed to do?

Chapter Four

“You should squeeze the tomato gently to make sure it’s firm, but not so firm that it has no give.”

Niles looked up from the display of tomatoes and turned to face the woman standing next to him. “Brandy?”

“Vine-ripened are best,” she added. “They’re much better if they’re not picked when they’re green.”

Here, in a small market in the mountain town of Granby, he barely recognized her. He hadn’t expected to run into someone he knew, and this woman bore little resemblance to the woman he’d scened with a few weeks before.

Her beautiful face was bare, without even a hint of mascara, and she’d pulled back her thick blonde hair into a ponytail.

Instead of the skimpy dresses that he was accustomed to, she’d selected a black sweater and a short skirt with black tights, along with comfortable-looking suede boots wrapped in some sort of fur cuff. A magenta scarf completed her outfit.

Simply, she arrested his attention, and he couldn’t look away.

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