Page 5 of Restrain Me

“Oh.” I’m surprised by his answer, honestly. I thought he would demand that I call himSir. I kinda thought that’s how relationships like this work. “So I should wait?”

A small groan escapes his lips, and I can’t tell if it’s frustration or if I have him turned on as much as I am. “You get to choose when you’re ready to use that title with me. You don’t have to do it tonight. Whenever you’re ready.”

“But you want me to?”

He takes a step closer to me, invading my space. Grabbing one of my arms, he spins me around so that my back is against his chest. “Do you feel that, Bailey?” he asks, his hard erection pressing into the side of my hip. “Do you feel how much I want you?”

Oxygen rushes from my lungs, and I feel like I’m going to moan just from his body touching mine. I want more. More of his hands on my body, less clothing between us, the cock currently straining against his jeans pressing deep inside me. I want it all right this second.

“Please,” I breathe out.

“Please what?” he asks. “Tell me what you want, sweetheart.”

“I need you to take me upstairs.” I practically pant the words, but despite my admission, Grant pulls back from me.

“Not yet,” he says, lifting his martini glass from the bar top and bringing it to his lips once more.

My body aches when his touch leaves me, desperately wishing his hands were back in place. “Why?” I grimace as I ask the question.

“Because…” He grins over the top of his martini, then takes a drink before continuing. “I want to take my time tonight. Patience, sweetheart.”

I suppress the whine crawling up my throat and take a sip of my drink instead. “So what do we do in the meantime, then?” I ask, biting my lip as I glance around.

The smile that rises on Grant’s lips sends a new shiver through me, stopping between my legs. “We watch,” he says simply. “And I learn every little thing that turns you on.”

3

My body is humming with anticipation as the elevator climbs up to the third floor. Finally.

“Ya know,” he begins, his thumb running over his bottom lip as his eyes travel the length of my body.

I can see myself in the mirrored walls of the elevator, unable to escape the glass that shows me every flaw. Nerves resurface at the thought of whatever Grant is about to tell me, terrified that he’s about to realize this was all a mistake and he doesn’t really want to fuck me. Maybe that’s why I’m in a rush for him to take me to our room and get it over with.

“You look stunning. I don’t think I mentioned that.”

His words shock me and, for a moment, I think my brain short circuits. I can see myself. I’m wearing all black, looking nearly goth except for where my dark hair fades into a purple ombre. That pop of color is the only one I have. The black miniskirt clings to my skin, and there’s a sheer sparkly top tucked into it that reveals the lacy black bralette I’m wearing underneath. I wanted to look sexy, different from the normal version of myself that wears nothing but jeans and oversized band t-shirts. The version of myself I don’t let anyone else see, the one that only comes out at night when I’m tucked under my covers and my fingers are inching down between my thighs. The version that only lives in the recesses of my mind.

Grant’s hands come to the sides of my hips as he lines himself up behind me. His breath skates over my ear and our eyes meet in the mirror.

“Do you see what I see?” he asks, his voice low and gruff. “Do you see how absolutely breathtaking you are?”

His eyes burn into mine, and I want desperately to drop them, to stop looking at him and myself, but he holds me there.

“Answer me,” he says. The words are a demand, but it’s soft, sensual even, as he watches me, his fingers still gripped onto my hips.

“No,” I say honestly. I don’t see what he does. The girl in the mirror isn’tstunning. She isn’t some kind of sex goddess. She looks like a chubby girl who squeezed herself into a tight skirt in a failed attempt to be sexy.

“That’s a shame, sweetheart,” Grant breathes out, his warm breath running along the side of my neck, sending another shiver down my spine that it seems only he is capable of. “If only I could make you realize how beautiful you are.”

The elevator dings as it reaches the third floor, shaking me out of the lust-filled haze I’ve found myself in. Grant takes a step back as the doors slide open, revealing the next level ofDesire. This floor has the same purple glow as the one downstairs. I don’t see a bar up here, but the walls on either side of us are lined with glass windows that peer into different rooms. In the center of the space are several plush couches lined in black leather.

There are people scattered throughout, women dressed in lingerie or leather sitting on the laps of men. I feel like I’ve been sucked into a kinky fantasy. The entire room screams sex and there’s a renewed warmth building in my lower stomach. My eyes find a woman with cat ears, kneeling, connected to another woman by a leash clipped to the collar wrapped around her throat.

“Do you like what you see?” Grant purrs in my ear.

I nod. I want to see more. Some part of me wants to pry into the sex lives of every other person here, wants to know what they’re doing and why.

“Words, Bailey,” he demands with a light tap to my ass.

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