Page 24 of Callback
I smiled back at him. “Which is basically like answering my question.”
“And yet, I didn’t break any rules.” He winked. “Does that mean you’re going to stay the week?”
I nodded. “Yeah. I think it does.” It was a different story when I could have snuck out without seeing anyone or anyone seeing me. Now? Well, now it was different.
He jerked his head toward the door. “Come on. I want to show you the common area tonight. It’ll be a mellow night—I just want you to observe and follow the other submissive behavior you see in there. Get a sense of the community we’ve got here at LnS.”
Bending, I grabbed my planner, holding it like a varsity cheerleader holding a textbook.
“What’s that?” he asked, taking it from my arms.
“It’s just… my notebook. You know, to take notes and stuff.”
I resisted the urge to wrench it away from him as he flipped open the pages. “That’s personal, you know.”
“It’s a planner,” he said, stating the obvious.
I snorted, yanking it back and closing it. “It’s so much more than just a planner.”
His smile curved higher. “It has stickers in it.”
“Shut up,” I said, hugging the planner to my body. “Anyone who likes to plan has stickers.”
“You had little acting stickers that saidLights, Camera, Action!” He huffed a laugh, pressing his lips together to suppress it and covering his mouth with his tightened fist.
Though I couldn’t say why exactly, I laughed too, and lunged at Jude, smacking his arm with the planner. “Don’t make fun of me. This thing is my life.If you fail to plan, then you plan—”
“—to fail,” Jude said, finishing the quote. “Benjamin Franklin, right?”
My stomach clenched, hardening into a wall of muscle.Well, that was unexpected. And both comforting and jarring. “You know that quote?” We were standing closer than I realized. I wasn’t quite sure why my breath was so heavy, but there was a glorious feeling of camaraderie between us in that moment. Finally. And for the first time since we sat down to tea, it felt like maybe, just maybe, we had something in common.
If I had more self-control, I wouldn’t stare at his defined neck that curved into broad, muscled shoulders. Every dip, every contour of taut muscle flexed with each breath he took and I wanted to reach out and run my hands over the strong column of his bicep.
His eyes shifted from my planner, still clutched in my hands, up my body. Slowly, tortuously slowly, his gaze scraped upward over my tingling breasts, tensed neck, parted lips, until finally landing on my eyes.
His attention was like a sedative, calming me in ways that yoga and meditation have never been successful. “While I appreciate your… hobby,” Jude said quietly, taking the planner again, “you won’t need this in the common room.” Leaning down, his lips moved merely a breath away from mine and he walked me backwards until I bumped against the wall. His breathing increased. Deeper. Faster. And he put both hands on the wall above my head, caging me in.
There was a playful glimmer in his eyes, and while in this position some women might feel afraid, I felt breathless. Exhilarated. He swallowed, not pulling away, but his gaze fell to my neck. “Did you choose your safe words yet?” he asked.
My smile twitched. “Let’s use ‘planner’ for stop. And ‘sticker’ for slow down.”
“Oh, my God,” Jude said slowly. “Those are the least sexy safe words I’ve ever heard.” He grinned, pushing off the wall and held out his hand for me. “Those will work well, then. There is no reason in hell you should be talking about planners or stickers.” He winked. “On the walk down the hall, I want you to say your words over and over in your head. Memorize them. Planner, stop. Sticker, slow down. Planner, stop. Sticker, slow down…”
“Planner, stop. Sticker, slow down.”
“Good girl. Repeat that over and over in your head.”
Planner, stop. Sticker, slow down.He opened the door for me and tucked the keycard into his pocket. “And” he said, “we need to find a new term of endearment for you other than sweet girl.”
Planner, stop. Sticker, slow down.“Damn straight we do.”
We stopped in front of another door, this one was carved on the edges with intricate designs and swirls, while the other doors along the hallway looked like generic hotel room doors. His fingers curled into my hair, twisting and tangling around a lock. With a gentle tug, he lifted it to his nose and sniffed.
“Creepy, much?” But if I was being honest, it wasn’t creepy. It was sexy as hell. The red of my hair was bright against his tanned skin.
He ignored me, whispering, “Poppy.”
I scrunched my nose. “What? Did you just call me a nickname for agrandfather?”
