Page 77 of Foreplay on Words

Naked boyfriend. Dirty banter. Home-cooked meal.

Holy shit! Was he my boyfriend? I knew we’d implied we would see where this went, but we’d never officially labeled anything.

My maybe boyfriend’s shy grin never faltered as I ate the rest of my breakfast. It was delicious, the bacon melted in my mouth, and the scenery certainly didn’t disappoint.

“Take your time,” he winked as he finished and started rinsing off the dirty dishes. The muscles in his back and sides bunched and flexed as he washed the things he’d dirtied. Naked chef Evan was hot, but naked chef Evan cleaning up his mess sent my hormones into overdrive.

“Mmmm. That was yummy. I’m so full,” I told him, sitting back and patting my stomach.

“Hopefully, you haven’t eaten too much meat,” he teased as he walked around the island and leaned against the countertop.

“Oh my...” I marveled, eyeing how the front of the black material of the apron was tented. “Is someone requesting compensation for their services this morning?”

“I’m good with providing my services for favors,” he winked as he bit his lip.

“It seems like you’re having a hard time with something.” I nodded toward his apron, which had trouble concealing his excitement.

“Mmhmm,” he nodded. “I seem to have misplaced my pants.”

“They don’t seem misplaced to me,” I giggled as I picked up the wooden spoon and rolled it between my hands. “I can think of something that’d keep your cheeks warm.”

“Oh?”

I nodded and climbed off my stool, coming around to stand behind him. Damn. Compulsive running was doing him all kinds of favors. I cupped his firm cheek, giving it a nice squeeze.

“You having fun back there?” he asked, an amused smile stretched across his lips.

“Not yet...” I reached around him, positioned his hands palm down near the edge of the counter, and stepped back.

“Hmm...” I mused as I looked at his posture. “Spread your legs shoulder-width apart.”

He slowly moved into position, but it wasn’t quite right.

“Straighten your shoulders, chest out. That’s better,” I coached as he did what he was told. “Good boy.”

The look he gave me when I walked to his side to appraise his stance would’ve made me drop my panties if I had been wearing any.

“You remember the safe word?”

He nodded slowly as his chest heaved. His erection was rock solid as it protruded out in front of him, and my mouth salivated with the need to touch it, but that could come later. Literally.

“You ready?” I exhaled a heavy breath as I stood behind him and worked up the nerve to strike.

Before, I was swatting him as a joke. This time I would try to channel what Em had taught me. During my previous consultations, he’d shown me how to use whips, floggers, and canes. If I was going to write about flagellation, he wanted me to learn how to do it properly.

Adjusting my grip on the handle, I took a deep breath as I established solid footing within striking distance. My wrist snapped firmly, and we both jumped a little as the wood smacked the fleshy part of his ass.

“Ahh!” he breathed, a low hiss filling the air.

“Holy shit. You alright?” I questioned as I massaged the area that had already started to turn pink.

“Mmmhmm,” he hummed through gritted teeth.

My heart pounded as I watched the tension drain from his shoulders.

“Again,” he said quietly but firmly, flexing his arms against the counter.

I raised the spoon again, and...

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