Page 31 of Playing By His Rules

Undeniable desire flickered in her gaze as she gave him a sultry smile. “Before or after my spanking?” she asked, reminding him of his seductive threat he’d texted to her earlier that day.

“I’m thinkingduring,” he retorted, already feeling his dick stir at the dirty mental images filling his head.

She frowned, as if trying to figure out the logistics of that sexual position. “That’s not possible.”

A wicked chuckle escaped him as he slid his hand around to the nape of her neck and drew her head closer so that his mouth touched her ear. “Oh, it’s very possible, Ms. Corbin,” he murmured, trying not to let the scent of her perfume distract him when they needed to leave very soon. “And here’s something for you to think about over the next few hours. You, on your hands and knees, with my hands fisting all that soft, shiny hair while you deep-throat my cock, and I use a crop on your upturned ass to spank you.”

A small, tell-tale moan passed her lips, and when he lifted his head to look at her face, he was gratified to see the aroused flush on her cheeks.

“So, yes, it’stotallypossible,” he said.

It took effort to release her and step back, when she already looked soft, pliable, and willing to obey. “Give me a few minutes to change, and then we can head out for our date.”

She blinked at him in surprise. “Our date?”

He grinned at her. “Isn’t that what taking a woman out to dinner and a show is called? A date?”

“Umm, I suppose it is.”

He didn’t miss the slight skepticism in her voice, as if adatewas too intimate and romantic for what their arrangement entailed. But that was the whole point—to show her just how well they connected outside of the bedroom, too. To put them in an enjoyable, casual environment where there were no other expectations except to relax and truly get to know one another better beyond their physical attraction.

He left her in the living room while he changed into a clean, pressed pair of black pants, a white dress shirt that he left unbuttoned at the throat, and a black sports jacket.

Even though he’d driven his car to Vegas, it was easier to get an Uber to navigate the busy, backed up traffic on the strip at that time of the day. By the time they reached the Bellagio, they had fifteen minutes to walk through the casino to Lago, the upscale Italian restaurant where Rick had made dinner reservations for them. He slipped his hand into Madison’s so any man glancing her way knew she was his, and as they walked around the outskirts of the casino area, her gaze drifted toward the noisy slot machines and crowded card tables.

“Do you gamble at all?” he asked without thinking, and immediately realized what a stupid question that was to ask, considering her father’s gambling issues had been one of the catalysts for Madison taking a job as an escort. “I’m sorry. That was an insensitive thing to ask.”

“No, it’s fine.” She gave him a smile that told him she really was okay with his question. “I’ve never placed a monetary bet in my life, because I can’t stand the thought of losing money.”

He nodded in understanding, especially when she was most likely concerned about keeping a roof over her and Andrea’s head, and food on their table. There wasn’t an ounce of bitterness in her voice, despite having every reason to be resentful of how her father’s addiction had clearly taken its toll on her and her sister’s life, and he couldn’t help but admire that strength and fortitude.

Once they arrived at Lago, Rick gave the hostess his name and she led them to the private alcove he’d requested that overlooked Lake Bellagio and had the best view of the famous fountain water show that played every half hour. A few minutes after being seated, a performance started, capturing Madison’s complete attention as she watched the dramatic aquatic show choreographed with music and lights . . . while he sat back and enjoyed her enthralled expression and the enchanting smile on her face.

They took their time ordering drinks first, then their dinners, and as they waited for their meals to arrive, Madison smiled at him.

“Just so you know, if you’re trying to impress me, it’s working,” she said, fluttering her lashes playfully at him before taking a drink of her champagne.

He chuckled and reached for the free hand resting on the table, so that her fingers rested lightly, and intimately, against his palm. “Good to know. I had to pull some strings to get us seated at this table.”

“And last-minute tickets to Cirque Du Soleil’s O,” she said knowingly.

He didn’t deny her claim. “I hope it’s a show you haven’t seen before.”

“No.” She set her flute down on the table. “I might have grown up in Vegas, but those kinds of elaborate productions were never in my family’s budget, and I can’t say that the boyfriends I’ve had were eager to pay that kind of money for a few hours of entertainment.”

“I’m glad I get to take you to your first Cirque Du Soleil show.”

She smiled, her fingers softly stroking along his palm. “I’ve heard great things about O, and I’m excited to see it with you.”

With him. She didn’t have to add those last two words to her reply, but she had, and he couldn’t deny liking the fact that she genuinely wanted to share this experience with him.

Their waiter delivered their dinners—a red wine braised veal shank and sauteed vegetables for him, and a beef tenderloin and roasted baby potatoes for her. They ate the meal around easy, effortless conversation that gave them each better insight to each other, their likes and dislikes, and the interests they had in common . . . which were much more than either of them realized.

For dessert they decided to share a slice of tiramisu, while Madison sipped on her second glass of champagne and Rick ordered a cappuccino. After a few bites into the coffee and cream infused cake, she gave him a curious, side-long glance.

“So, how come a catch like you doesn’t already have a girlfriend or isn’t already married?” she asked as she dipped her fork back into the dessert and he took a drink of his strong coffee. “I mean, you’re good looking, you have a great job and career, you’re a genuinely nice and decent guy, and you fuck like a dream,” she said, her tone light and playful. “By all rights, some woman should have locked you down by now.”

He smirked, focusing on one part of her comment. “I fuck like a dream, huh?”

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