Page 65 of Mastering the Minotaur

I roll my eyes. “OK, but no later than that.”

“Yes, Mom,” they chorus.

I grab my bag and we hurry out the door. Jarra’s parents are staying over at my apartment with the kids while we go back to his place to celebrate.

His hand goes automatically to my thigh as soon as I slide into the passenger seat of his Chrysler. He gives me a squeeze. “I arranged a dinner I know you’re going to love. Don’t worry, I thought of everything. And best of all, we get to sleep in tomorrow.”

I snort. “That’s really the best thing?”

He gives me a sidelong look and waggles his eyebrows at me. “Why? What do you think the best part is going to be?”

I unzip the front of my little black dress, which conveniently zips down the front, and reveal the brand new black corset I’ve bought especially for tonight. The lace on the bra cup only barely covers each nipple. Jarra looks for so long, though, I get nervous he’s going to crash.

“Jarra!”

He drags his eyes back to the road, but it’s not lost on me that he definitely speeds up anywhere there’s not too much traffic.

“You should be more careful.”

He shakes his head. “Any cop that saw what I’ve just seen would tear up the ticket straightaway.”

I don’t even dignify that with a response, but it does make me all warm inside, like so many of the things he says to me.

When we get through the door, he goes straight to the kitchen and opens a bottle of expensive champagne. He’s just pouring the second glass, when the buzzer sounds. “That will be the dinner.”

I laugh and glance at my phone to realize it’s only six thirty.

Jarra shrugs. “We eat at kid-o-clock now, and I didn’t want to waste any time that could be spent doing other things.”

“Is that right?”

Already moving to the door, he nods.

I tease, “Who says there will be any other things on the menu?”

He clutches at his chest like I’ve stabbed him. “Oh, come on, My Lady, you won’t be so cruel to me tonight. I know you can’t resist me.”

He’s not wrong, but I try not to let it show. Despite the fact ninety nine percent of the time he sees right through me, it’s a game we play, one I know we both enjoy.

I have just enough time to strip off down to the corset and panties, leaving on my heels.

When Jarra returns with the bags of food, his mouth drops open.

I grin. “You next. Strip down. Then go find that apron I bought.”

“Fuck, yes.” He sets down the food in the center of the table and trots to the kitchen. When he returns moments later, he is wearing only the apron.

“Good boy. Now serve me my dinner.”

Jarra’s tail flicks while he gets to work plating up the food and laying things out neatly in front of me.

Do I delight in smacking his ass as he moves around me to set out the chopsticks and top up my drink? You bet I do.

The growing bulge in the front of that apron tells me we’re both getting exactly what we want—exactly what we need. God, it’s been too long since we really got to play like this.

He serves the eggrolls and I put my feet up on the table to eat mine, reclining in my chair and considering all the things I’d like to do to him tonight. There’s one thing we haven’t tried yet, even though we’ve talked about it. I wonder if he’s ready.

“On your knees for me, gorgeous.”

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