Page 14 of Take the Sub and Run

“What question?”

“Do you prefer soft Doms?” Though he knew there was nothing wrong with that, his question held an edge of accusation.

He wanted her to answer no, because he himself was a playful sadist, not a soft Dom.

He wanted her to answer yes, because it would make it easier—though not easy—to walk away.

“I prefer it harder,” she said after a moment, and there was hesitation in her tone.

That wasn’t exactly what he asked, but he chalked it up to a language issue. They were both speaking English, and while he was fluent, as she clearly was, there were subtilties of phrasing that would be lost, given English was most likely not her first language.

“We have a choice to make, Angel.” The pet name slipped out once more. He needed to stop.

Maybe once he had her out of that white dress, it would be easier.

“And what’s that?”

“What do we do while we wait for Landon to be done with Colette?”

“I assume we scene,” she said bluntly.

Andrei barked out a laugh, returning to the chair.

“Straight to the point.”

“You would prefer I wait for you to suggest it?” She shifted once more, legs crossed as she leaned back against the pole.

“Not at all. I demand blunt truth when planning a scene.”

“So we’re going to do it? We’re going to scene?” The eagerness in her tone made him grin. He fucking loved eager submissives.

“Yes,” he said, mentally striking the possibility that he would arrest her. If Landon came down here and declared he wanted Colette’s accomplice in jail, the other man was going to be disappointed. Short of Sofie committing murder in his line of sight, she was safe from being arrested by him.

Sofie grinned, and Andrei felt his own smile widen.

“Alright, Angel,” he said. “Let’s negotiate our scene.”

A real submissive probably wouldn’t be smiling and almost giddy with happiness at this moment, but Sofie was. She hoped Andrei couldn’t see the way she was jiggling one leg under her skirt in nervous excitement.

“No penetrative sex,” Andrei said casually.

Sofie froze in disappointment.

Andrei barked out a laugh. “Your expression…”

Embarrassment curled in her belly, and Sofie dipped her head, knowing her face would be turning bright red. She couldn’t stop herself from blushing when she was embarrassed or angry. Her father had always said it was one of the reasons she had to stay in the studio—her face gave away what she was feeling. Even if she controlled her expression, she couldn’t control the way blood rushed to her cheeks.

Fabric rustled and then Andrei’s hand was on her chin. She tried to jerk her head away, but he tightened his hold, pinching her chin and forcing her head up.

He studied her, his own expression at first closed before softening.

“You think I was laughing at you.”

Sofie refused to answer. She wanted to close her eyes rather than look at him, childish as that may be, but she couldn’t.

“I wasn’t. I was laughing because I love it.”

“Love what?” she demanded, words slightly warped because he hadn’t let go, so she couldn’t open her mouth all the way.

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