Page 21 of Toy Shop

“I’m pleased.” His smile withers, his eyes raking over my body.

He’s undressing me with his gaze, almost like his own hands tear the clothes off my skin. There’s a hunger in it, a hurricane shifting the mood in the room. From light and fluffy, the atmosphere morphs into dark and sinister.

Goosebumps spread like wildfire across my arms, instant dampness pools at my core. My nipples are so hard, they’re no match for my built-in bra. He refrains from acknowledging what he notices, giving me nothing except a satisfied grin once his journey along my skin ends.

“Ready to start your class?”

I gulp in air, my throat parched. “Are we going somewhere?”

Do I expect a dark, obscure house with a dungeon? Maybe.

Have I imagined Alistair hanging me off a bar, getting right down to business? Possibly.

Do both options appeal to me as much as they intimidate me? Absolutely.

But does Alistair fulfill any?

“No.”

He takes a step toward me, his knuckles brushing across my cheek, down my throat. “I envisioned you, like this, right here.”

Alistair is buzzing, basically electric. He towers over me, and my lips part in my feeble attempt to let in more air. Or maybe it’s an invitation for him to kiss me. Maybe both.

The many guys who wanted to kiss me throughout college scared me. The minute they neared me, I was triggered, closed off, wanting nothing of it.

Not this man. Alistair and his oozing confidence, fierce demeanor, and the underlying care in him are safe. He’s safe. He won’t promise me forever; he won’t lie to me. He made it blatantly clear.

Kissing him won’t hurt me. Being involved with him won’t put a dent in my soul.

Whatever he’s offering, I’m taking it.

“What else is involved in your vision?” I ask in a husky tone.

“You. Naked.”

He allows the craving we share to float in the room, become a living thing.

I can only bob my head.

“Ever since you called me, I can’t get you out of my head. I shouldn’t fucking feel it, but I do.” His hand slides to the back of my head, his fingers playing with the ribbon holding my bun in place. “May I?”

“Yeah.” I’m going for the regal attitude, hiding the tremors his erotic words provoke.

Alistair finds the gift-wrapping bow, undoing it using both his hands in such a gentle touch that I quiver. He steps closer to pull on the ribbon, the scent of his cologne and shampoo adding an extra layer of desire to my already untethered state of being.

“There it is.” He unravels my hair, combing down my waves, then slipping the ribbon into his back pocket.

I never imagined I could come by a tender touch and a man’s proximity. My imagination was, apparently, very limited. A few more seconds of this, I just might explode. I’m panting, angling my head higher, yearning for his lips.

His fingertips below my chin tilt it up, eyes connecting with mine. “You look like you want something, Nola. Like you’ve wanted something from the minute you walked out of the car.”

The ache between my thighs is to the point of pain. I don’t care anymore about toys, or learning, or anything. I’m hurting, and only Alistair can relieve it.

“Come on, sweetheart.” He inches closer. “Use your words.”

“I want you to teach me.” I keep it short, avoiding any hint of desperation.

“Anyway I deem fit?”

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