Page 11 of Conflicted
His smile took her breath and warmed her heart, as did his, "Good girl. Even so, I would want to try out the agents before we use them in a scene. Will you be here tomorrow?"
It took her only three heartbeats to answer this time. "Yes, Sir."
"Do you consent to do a scene with me tomorrow?"
“Aside from you wanting to use some chemical stuff, what would a scene entail?”
He cocked his head like he was considering her question. “Since it will be our first play, how about I limit the scene to hands and mouth alone? My cock will stay in my pants.”
“O... okay.”
“In fact, I won’t take off any of my clothes, although I intend for you to come at least once.” He grinned. “Would you like to do a scene within those parameters tomorrow?”
"Yes, Sir." This time the words fell from her lips naturally.
"In that case, let me get my kit." He gave her a stern stare. "Stay put."
Ruby watched as he strode away. His long legs ate up the space. Her gaze drifted from his powerful legs farther North, and she couldn't prevent her eyes from lingering and admiring his flexing ass. Unlike a lot of Caucasian men, Nathan had a firm, round butt she found extremely attractive. As a tattoo artist, she had become some kind of a connoisseur of ass cheeks. Believe me, not many men — or women for that matter – can pride themselves on such buttocks.
It didn't take Nathan long to return with a blue carrying case. She leaned forward and wondered what it contained. If it holds needles, I’ll run screaming.
Something in her posture or expression must have shown her curiosity because Nathan grinned. "Look at you, so eager."
He took his chair, and Ruby's nostrils flared. Various scents assaulted her nose, too many to tell them apart. Nathan undid the zipper at a snail’s pace, and she shook with anticipation and her ears started to ring.
"Breathe, Ruby."
She led out the air from her lungs on a surprised giggle. No wonder her ears were ringing — she had been holding her breath. Nathan flipped open the case and revealed neat rows of small dark brown bottles with colorful labels.
"Essential oils?" Ruby tilted her head down. That was a bit of an anti-climax if you asked her.
Nathan tapped the tip of her nose with his index finger. "You'll see, but yes, these are essential oils." He ran his long fingers over the bottles, which Ruby noticed were neatly organized in alphabetical order, and pulled four from the case.
He lined them on the table, giving Ruby the opportunity to read the labels – cinnamon, ginger, peppermint, and pink pepper.
He leaned back and cocked his head. “There was a moment your face almost showed fear. What were you expecting?”
“Needles.”
Nathan barked out a laugh. “You have piercings and tattoos all over your body. How can you be squeamish about needles?”
One corner of Ruby’s mouth twisted. “Yeah, I know it’s pretty messed up.” She pondered her explanation for a moment. “With tats and body jewelry, I think art but sticking needles in someone for the fun of it... I just don’t get it.”
“Oh, needle play can be art, too, and if the Top does it right, you’re in subspace before you know it.” Nathan cleared his throat. “But tonight, we’re discussing chemical play, so let’s focus on that.” He pulled a bottle of coconut oil, a box of Benadryl, and cotton swabs from the case and placed all items on the table next to the essential oils.
“The medication is just in case, better safe than sorry, right?” He gave her another grin, “When I put something on, I can’t remove it. The fractionated coconut oil can be used to dilute the agent and lessen the effect, but I can’t completely erase it. Whatever you do, don’t try to wash it off – especially not with warm water. It will only intensify the effect.”
Fascinated, she watched as he methodically applied a few drops of oil from the first bottle on a cotton swab. “Can I smell it?”
His grin widened. “Of course.” He handed her the bottle.
Ruby carefully sniffed – warm, sweet, and spicy cinnamon, which reminded her of Christmas and baked goods. She lifted an eyebrow. “And this is going to have any effect other than make me smell like apple pie?”
He ignored her question but held out his left hand while holding the swab in his other hand.
“Arm, please.”
Ruby eyed him, but after a slight hesitation, she stretched out her arm. He took hold of her wrist, his hand large and warm against her skin. Carefully but assertively, he turned her hand palm up and swiped the cotton over the tender inside of her arm.
