Page 34 of At Her Will

The appreciation in his chuckle made it even sexier. She could tell he was internalizing everything, a man used to taking notes in his head. “The only way you can disappoint me is if I demand something that makes you uncomfortable in the wrong ways, and you don’t let me know.”

Her piercing Mistress look stilled him, pulling his focus to her. “If I’m paying attention the way I should,” she said, “I’ll know. But I don’t recommend having me find out that way. As I said, I want to feel like you are mine. You asking me if it’s okay to do something or not do something honors that, while protecting our pleasure, the beauty and power of our time together. Do you understand?”

So many things could change that gingerbread color in his irises, creating intriguing lights and shadows. “Yes, Mistress. I think I do.” He let out another breath. “I’m smack in the middle of things I dreamed about, but there’s more there than I understand. I want to, though.”

“You’ll understand more as we go along, just as you suspected. But you have the right and ability to protect yourself at all times, to let me know your desires, and to ask questions. If you keep that in mind, we’ll have a good time. That said, if theclub isn’t your scene, if you find you really don’t like it there, you can tell me and we’ll go.”

He frowned. “But won’t that mean you won’t want to see me no more?”

“If it does, then that’s what’s meant to be.” She tapped his chest. “But it won’t necessarily mean that. There are plenty of ways to explore domination and submission that don’t involve a formal venue at all.” Her gaze slid around the classroom. “As I think I just demonstrated.”

His tense expression morphed into a rueful half smile.

“Yes ma’am. You sure did.”

CHAPTER SIX

“Vera? You have visitors.”

Visitors? She was expecting Rev for lunch, but it was a little too early for his arrival. He was picking up a part at a hardware store and would take the bus from there to the Garden District.

“Witford and Tisha Butterford,” Bastion continued. “They said they don’t have an appointment”—which Bastion knew, because he kept Vera’s calendar—“but they said they hope you have a few minutes for them.”

That confirmed Rev hadn’t turned lunch into a family affair. Something she wouldn’t have expected anyway, not without some kind of heads-up to her first.

“Certainly. Show them up.” She considered asking Bastion to call her in ten minutes with an excuse to cut the meeting short, but then she rejected the idea. This was Rev’s family, and she would offer warmth and courtesy. Unless something in their behavior said she shouldn’t.

A cold ball in her lower belly said that might happen, and it wasn’t unwarranted. If Rev had known about the visit, he would have let her know. She couldn’t think of an acceptable reason they would be meeting with her alone, without his knowledge.But she also might be letting her personal history assume the worst.

Having them brought up instead of coming down to escort them herself wasn’t what she did for a friend or someone she wanted to feel particularly welcome. But she would obey her intuition, which told her to stay where she was and appear busy, even if she was in danger of putting a hole in the page where her pen was tracing the same word. She made herself stop doing that and opened an app on her computer instead. She finished activating it just as they reached the top floor. Bastion was doing the courteous small talk thing, explaining the origins of the house. There was a lift elevator, but they’d apparently preferred the stairs.

Bastion’s tone was friendly but formal. When he arrived at the door, his watchful expression said he was picking up an odd vibe, too.

Vera came around the desk with a polite smile, her hand outstretched. Witford was a step ahead of Rev’s aunt, and shook with a firm, dry grasp. Tisha had her purse clasped against her body with both hands, and nodded.

“Would you like to sit down?” Vera asked, pointing to her two guest chairs.

Witford gestured to his mother to take the inside chair while he took the one closer to the door. Vera met Bastion’s gaze. “Thank you, Bastion.”

Bastion nodded. “Sure I can’t bring you something to drink? We have water, sodas, coffee and tea, plus some fresh lemonade.”

“We won’t be here long,” Tisha said stiffly, though she looked at Bastion with perplexed fascination. Even in New Orleans, a six-foot four office manager with long locs, the build of a graceful NFL quarterback, and a fashion sense that kept pace with Ros’s taste in shoes, was a puzzle.

Bastion touched the door with a questioning look.Open or closed?Vera shook her head. She wanted it open.

She returned to her seat behind her desk. “Is Rev all right?”

“Yes, of course,” Tisha said, seeming surprised she would ask.

Lacing her fingers together on her desk, Vera leveled a gaze on Witford. “Then can you explain why you’re here without his knowledge?”

Witford’s brow rose. “How do you know we are?”

“Because he would have told me.”

“You know him that well, do you?” Witford said mildly.

“I know he’s a respectful and kind person. Would you disagree?”

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