Page 52 of What About Love

She snorted. “I wonder how many subs have heard that line.”

“Those with a good dom probably hear it a lot.”

His hand slipped beneath her and found the button on her waistband. He released and slid down her zipper then, in a flash, her shorts were around her thighs with her panties. She stiffened, ready to launch a second round of protests, when the cool lotion touched her skin.

“You’re still pink and warm hours later. I’ll kill him.”

“T.”

“I’m kicking Eric’s ass for this, too. He was supposed to find you an easy dom.”

“Is there such a thing?”

“Hell yeah! He should have found you someone like me. I didn’t make you cry out with pain or cause your skin to sizzle with heat and redness.”

“T—”

“Dammit. I should have stopped by last night. You needed aftercare.”

“George took care of that.”

His massaging hand stilled. “What?”

“He used Arnica the same as you. I can tell by the smell.”

The soothing massage resumed. “Where?”

“Uh...” She realized her mistake too late.

Without warning, he flipped her upright, her bare behind connecting with his denim-covered thigh. “Explain.”

“Following the scene, George took me to a booth. He held me for a bit then rubbed the cooling lotion on my—”

“Drapes open or closed?” he demanded heatedly.

Her nonanswer was answer enough.

“Angie.”

He’d made the leap as she had, turning nice, sweet George into a brutal serial killer. They were often charming and looked like anyone else. “I know. I screwed up. It was dangerous, but I was emotional—”

“Did he touch you?”

“Well, yeah. He had to when applying the lotion.”

“No. Did he touch your pussy? Did he make you come?”

“I don’t see how that makes a difference.”

His hand came up to hold her face still, his brown eyes flashing heatedly. “I’m only going to ask once more. Did he touch you?”

“No! He didn’t even kiss me and was a perfect gentleman.” She heard the irony of her statement as soon as it left her mouth.

For a split second, relief washed over his features, and his head dipped slightly. She waited expectantly, but to her disappointment, a kiss didn’t come. Instead, he set her on her feet.

“Get dressed. We’re going to be late.”

“Whose fault is that?”

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