Page 29 of Boss Me Around

Her eyes widen as she bites her lip. “Oh, that’s good. Maybe spanking, too? Just a little? To see if I like it?”

“Oh, you’ll like it, lady wife,” I say, tugging the first row of strings tight with a sharp jerk of my hands that summons a turned-on sound from Starling’s lips. “I’ll make sure of that.”

“Yes, that sounds good. Very good,” she says, her voice breathy. “Should we do that before or after the Peeping Tom thing?”

“Well, we’ll have to rent a house for a Peeping Tom scenario, or we’ll be in violation of Rule Number One.” I continue to tighten her strings, mesmerized by the way her waist narrows beneath my hands. “We won’t have time to get out of town for a few weeks since Barrett and Wren’s reception is next weekend, and I’m going to need to fuck you way before then.”

“Good point,” she says. “Angry cuckhold husband and frisky wife who needs to be taught a lesson it is, then. I’ll find a place for us to meet up tomorrow night.”

“Tomorrow?” I tease as I tie the strings into a bow at the base of her spine and pat her ass. “All done.”

She turns to face me, uncertainty in her eyes. “Is that too soon? If you were a real guy, should I play it cool? Wait a few days before meeting up again?”

“I am, to my knowledge, real,” I say dryly.

“You know what I mean,” she says. “Am I being too thirsty for cock?”

“There’s no such thing,” I say, gathering her into my arms. “At least not in my book. The thirstier you are for my cock, the better.” I bend down, brushing my lips gently up her neck. “In fact, if there were no rules, I’d be inside you right now.”

She shivers and presses closer, tilting her head back to grant me easier access to her throat. “But rules are good, right? They’ll keep us from getting…confused.”

Confused…

I’m already confused and addicted to how good she feels pressed up against me, but I know better than to tell her that.

I don’t want to lie to her, either, but I also don’t intend on telling the whole truth. Telling the truth will only make it harder to say goodbye in a month—and potentially lead to Starling calling off our arrangement before we get to live out more of our role-playing fantasies. She said she wanted something casual, after all, and learning the guy she thought she could count on to keep things chill is catching feels is a good way to send her running for the hills.

But I can tell her, “You’re incredible, by the way. Don’t ever doubt it. Tyson clearly had his head so far up his ass he couldn’t see the sex goddess he was lucky enough to have in his bedroom.”

Starling pulls back, a vulnerable note in her voice as she asks, “Yeah? For real? You’re not just saying that to give me confidence for next time?”

I shake my head. “Not even a little bit. You rocked my world, princess.”

She grins. “Ditto. See you tomorrow night? I’ll text you when I find a spot?”

“Sounds good. Or we could always meet up here again. The shop isn’t open again until Monday.”

Starling glances around the breakroom with pursed lips before she nods. “I can work with this. But you’ll have to let me in and then scram for a little while. I’ll need at least thirty minutes alone to prepare. I want to create a mood.”

“How about I just give you the extra key and you tell me when you want me to show up?” I say, already reaching for my back pocket.

“Really? You trust me with the keys to your business?”

If things were different—if she weren’t my sister-in-law and I wasn’t leaving town—I’d trust her with a lot more than that, but I don’t say that. I say, “Of course. You’re ninety percent goody-two-shoes, only ten percent chaos.”

She grins. “But that ten percent really is a pain in the ass, isn’t it? Are you still glad you took Bella? She clearly adores you, but things could get tricky for you if she really is some kind of magical creature who can walk through bars at will.”

“She can’t walk through bars at will. I probably just didn’t latch the crate right the first time.”

“But you latched it this time, right?” Starling asks. “When you put her back inside?”

“I did,” I assure her.

“She’s standing in the doorway behind you.”

I turn with a curse, making her laugh.

“Maybe the carrier is defective,” she says. “I’ll bring over Keanu’s old one when we meet up tomorrow. He rides in his basket in the car now, so he never uses it. Hopefully, that will solve the problem.” She steps into her slippers, grinning at me as she grabs her keys from the coffee table. “I had a great time. Thanks for the memory, sweet serving boy.”

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