Page 22 of Forbidden Mistress

He nods once, and I take the opportunity to pepper him with questions. The waitress sets our drinks down in front of us. A pear martini for me and a scotch for him. Hm, so he has been watching me. How else would he know what drink to order for me? Unless, he just told them to make whatever I’d been drinking before. I guess that’s possible, too.

“So what’s the deal with you and Willow? She said you’ve been dating for a year.”

“We aren’t dating,” he snaps. “But yes, she’s been my sub for a year.”

Huh, that was…emphatic. “Oh, sorry. I’m just learning about all this. Are you two…exclusive?” The second the question comes out, I wonder if I sound a little too eager. Can I make my interest any more painfully obvious? Ugh, I need to chill.

“Why do you want to know that?” he says in that beautiful accent.

“Uhh. No reason really.” Great save, Cassie. Ugh. “I just figured the more I understand, the better I can, you know, do my job.” Which is wetting and handing him a washcloth. Oh, and just being present and watching while he fucks another girl. Honestly, anyone with a pulse could do my job.

His eyes narrow behind his mask. “I have not been with anyone else in a long while, but no, it’s not exclusive. Why? Perhaps you’re interested in being my sub.”

Do I detect a hint of excitement in his voice?

No. I’m imagining what I want his tone to imply. He remains oddly neutral and even his language doesn’t give him away.

I shrug and try to appear equally nonchalant. “Just interested in doing a good job.”

He pulls a phone out of his pocket, and glances at the time.

“Hey! Why do you get a phone and no one else does?” I ask, annoyed.

I can hear the smile under his mask. “Being a founder has its advantages.”

I glance around again, seeing this place with new eyes. “You helped found this place?”

He waves a hand absently. “This particular den of iniquity is Domino’s brainchild. But Exeter House is a joint creation.”

“Ah, okay. Any chance I can get my phone? What with me being employed by one of the founders and all…”

“Not a chance.”

I shrug. “It was worth a shot.”

He pounds back the rest of his drink and stands, holding his hand out to me. I haven’t even touched my drink, but I’ve had too much already anyway. The last two martinis are still buzzing through me, making my head swim a little. I take his hand, and he pulls me up. As I stand, my face brushes up against his torso, and fucking-A, I could climb that hard wall of muscle right here and now. He smells so fucking good. Like soap and whiskey. Yay. More material for the mental spank bank. Or the rub-one-out bank, literally speaking.

I place my hand in his, and he tugs me toward the staircase and up to the members-only area. He’s holding my hand and I’m totally geeked out by that. I can’t help but think, this is how it would be if I were his. His strong hand curled around mine, leading me through the crowd. Everyone turns to look at us, and I wonder what they’re thinking. They’re probably so used to seeing him with Willow that they’re confused.

He drops my hand when we reach the private room, just before he opens the door. Inside, Willow is already waiting patiently sitting on the edge of the bed buck naked. Her eyes light up when Hart walks through the door and approaches her. She doesn’t even register my presence at all.

I take my regular seat. In such a short amount of time, this has all become a strange sort of routine.

As soon as I’m settled, Hart’s eyes connect with mine. I swallow, feeling the connection like it’s a physical touch.

He flicks his chin upward. “Come here, Little Fawn.”

I pause. Is that my name now? Little Fawn. I don’t quite know what to think of it or the implications, given he is one extremely sexy stag.

I rise from my seat and move to him.

“Ropes,” he says.

With a nod, I head over to the wardrobe and open the door where I saw all the toys yesterday. There’s a red rope hanging on the hook, and I grab it, then take it over to Hart. He accepts it and turns back toward Willow. I take that as my cue to head back to my seat, but he stops me. “Stay,” he says in that thundering voice.

I pause mid-step and turn back to him. I really hope he doesn’t ask me to participate.

“On your stomach,” he tells Willow.

---