Page 44 of Hard Luck (Blackstone House)

Pros? Orgasms, no funeral to attend, and an entertaining leisure pursuit to fill the time while my leg healed.

Cons? Cole might become more invested than I did, but that was his problem, not mine.

He stroked my hair away from my face. “Penny for them?”

“They’re not worth the money.”

“Try me.”

A long sigh escaped. “This is turning into something it was never meant to be.”

“That’s a problem?”

“I told you at the start, I don’t do commitment.”

“And I told you, I’m getting the hell out of Vegas as soon as humanly possible. But while I’m here, I like having something to look forward to doing after work.”

The sigh turned into a huff. “Well, if you’re going to keep doing me, could you be less of a gentleman about it?”

“What?” He looked slightly shocked. “Lessof a gentleman?”

Should I go there?

If I had to spend another week with this man, I might as well enjoy it. Either that, or I’d scare him off for good, so I wasn’t seeing a downside.

“You can whisper as many sweet nothings as you want, but I’ll never come as hard as I would with your hands around my throat.”

Okay, now he looked horrified. Cool.

“Is this a joke?”

“No, it’s a kink. One I happen to enjoy.”

His tan had faded since he’d been in Vegas, and now he lost the rest of his colour. “You’re into…BDSM?”

“I’m into specific elements of BDSM. Breath play, spanking, a touch of light flogging. Fingernails being raked down my back. If you bring a rope anywhere near me, I’ll tie it around your scrotum and tighten it until your balls drop off.” I leaned forward on his lap and rested my elbows on the back of the chair, trapping him. “Do you have a problem with that?”

His expression said he absolutely did, but his cock suggested otherwise. It was already hardening again.

“Fuck.” He ran a hand through his messy hair. “Fuck, what if I tried it and hurt you?”

Hmm. Not an outright “no.” I felt myself smile.

“My safe word is ‘kittycat.’ If I use it, you stop what you’re doing immediately. Understood?”

Usually if I wanted my urges satisfied, I found an asshole and kicked him out of bed—literally—when I was done with him. This was only the second time I’d tried turning vanilla into a chocolate fudge sundae, and the first time had been relatively straightforward. Brax had been online, researching BDSM for a possible new business venture, and I’d happened to look over his shoulder. The theory behind breath play had piqued my interest. Could a little drop in oxygen levels really heighten an orgasm? In those days, Brax had been willing to experiment, and I’d soon discovered the answer. I’d also learned about a new, tenebrous side of myself.

Cole swallowed hard. “Got it.”

“Good.” I kissed him on the nose and climbed off his lap. “You want that coffee now?”

“Wait, we’re not going to…?”

“No. You’re gonna go to work and think about thisdiscussion, and if you want to see your handprint on my ass, you’re going to call me this evening.”

With that said, I made his coffee, got dressed, and headed back to the Cathouse.

“If you don’t stop getting in my way, I’m going to force-feed you Dusk’s special cookies,” Marcel whined.

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