Page 44 of T is for…

“And then some peer review.”

Tara stared up at him, fighting a smile. When he didn’t say more, she arched a brow. “No double entendre about how you’re my peer and going to review this?” She motioned at her own naked body with her chin.

“No. Because I’m not your peer. Not right now.”

Once more, with dizzying ease, they’d slipped from the scene, to friendship, and now back to scene. Submission slid over her like a warm shadow, and Tara went pliant under him, her body soft except for her legs which were still hooked around his waist.

“Who am I to you Tara?”

Alarm bells went off in the back of her mind because that question felt heavy and dangerous.

For one terrifying moment, she wanted to be brutally honest. If she was, the answer would be “my safe place.”

Also true but less dangerous was, “my best friend.”

More situationally appropriate, but no less dangerous was, “my master.” Within the community, there were different uses of the word. For some, it was the ultimate sign of submission, that also signaled a permanence and formality in the relationship. For others, it was a title of respect.

For her, it was a sign of trust, because in her mind, there were things she’d let her master do to her that she wouldn’t allow with someone who was merely a scene partner. And the fact that she wanted to use it with Nathan, when they’d barely started, was insane.

In the end, Tara went for a safe, and only slightly dangerous answer. “My Dom.”

Nathan stared at her for a moment and she couldn’t help but think that he was disappointed.

“That’s right,” he said in that low, dominant tone. “Which means I’m going to play with…” Another smirk. “No, not play. I’m going to torture these pretty tits.”

Tara held her breath, waiting, but Nathan pushed up to standing, reaching back to uncurl her legs from around his waist, and hooking his elbows under her knees, holding her legs up, knees spread wide.

“Knees or on your feet?” he asked, tone making it clear he was asking a logistical question rather than teasing or tormenting.

It took her a minute to process his question, her attention held by anticipation. She was all too aware of her vulnerable, naked breasts framed by the sides of her robe. She hadn’t moved her arms even though he’d released her wrists, so her tits were unguarded, her nipples sensitive from the touch of tongue and teeth, and throbbing faintly from being stretched.

“Feet,” she said after an awkwardly long pause, shaking her head as if that would jolt her brain into working.

Nathan lowered her legs, but given the height of the mattress, once her toes touched down, it forced her back into a high, uncomfortable arch. She started to prop herself up on her elbows, but Nathan’s hands were sliding under her—one under her back, the other cupping her neck. He raised her upper body until she was half sitting, half leaning on the side of the bed.

“You’re unexpectedly good at manhandling,” she breathed.

He pushed her robe off her shoulders. “I’m not sure if I should say thank you for the compliment, or be insulted that you thought I had such a loose grasp of physics that I wouldn’t be able to figure out how to move another person around.”

Tara’s gaze dropped to his arms as she undid the knot in the robe sash. “It’s not just physics. You’re…muscly.”

“I kind of like that after all these years I can still surprise you.”

And I’m going to surprise you, when I tell you what I’m doing with my life.

Nathan stepped back, and she watched as he prepared. An iron chandelier with faux candlelights proved to be more than just lighting when Nathan tossed white nylon rope over one of the crosspieces and gave it a tug, looking satisfied when it didn’t move.

He rooted around in a drawer for a few minutes, carefully laying out the things he wanted on top of the dresser. He didn’t hide anything from her, but at the same time, the candlelight didn’t provide enough illumination in that part of the room for her to see the smaller items, though some had a metallic glint that made her think nipple clamps.

She could clearly see a flogger and variety of crops.

When Nathan turned, she craned to get a better view at his selections, not looking at him even as he returned to the bed, lifted her arm, and buckled a cuff around her wrist.

“Looking for spoilers?” he asked.

“Is it meant to be a surprise?”

“No surprises,” he said more seriously, fastening the other cuff. “Not with this.”

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