Terms of Surrender (19 page)

Shit or get off the stool, girl! Don't leave him hanging. Don't leave yourself hanging.

Slany bit her bottom lip and nodded.

"Does that mean you want to try this?" Nick asked.

"Yes," she rasped.

"Think about what you're saying, Slany. Because from this moment on, you play by my rules. We won't have another heart-to-heart like this on the subject."

"How will I know—"

"You'll follow my instructions, learn as you go. Are you still with me?"

"I think so."

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He cupped a cheek and grinned. "You're uncertain now, and that's okay. But as we progress, you'll come to see it's not as repulsive as you think. I'm not the big, bad monster you obviously have made me out to be."

"I haven't."

"Sure?"

She nodded, feeling like a child whose father was trying without much success to explain the facts of life to her.

"First things first, we need to have a safe word. Do you know what that is? How it works?"

She nodded again, throat clogged tight with doubt, stomach knotted with anticipation.

She couldn't get a word past her lips.

"I know this is a little overwhelming for you, and you're probably nervous, but I need you to tell me, say it out loud, so I know we're on the same page and won't misunderstand each other later on."

Slany closed her eyes and cleared her throat, a naughty student forced to recite a passage from one of her textbooks in front of the class as punishment. "If I'm at any point uncomfortable with what you're doing to me, with what we're doing, I should use my safe word, and you'll stop."

"Pretty good. Did you read that somewhere?"

Her eyes flew open to stare at him. "I…I've done a little research."

"Nothing like the real thing, though, is there?"

"You're not what I expected, no."

He leaned in to nuzzle her neck, used the back of a hand to caress her face. "I'm still the same Nick you know at the office. But here, alone together…" He shrugged and looked at her, as if trying to come up with the right words. "I'm a different person in a different world with different rules. I'm Master."

Master.

Just the one word had her trembling inside, heart and stomach fluttering in synch, brain cells sizzling with all the two-syllable term entailed. Her heart contracted and grew with what the idea of saying Master to a man meant—the idea of saying Master to this man.

It wasn't as if she actually knew the "office Nick," only scratching the surface of his myriad professional sides—his organizational and improvisational skills, his creativity, his intelligence, and talent. On the other hand, she had experienced a mere fraction of the personal side—his sarcastic sense of humor, his sense of family, his insatiable hunger, the heated sensuality he was capable of.

"Is asking you about previous relationships against your rules," she paused, the fluttering turning into a tight knot in her gut as she turned to look at him and whispered, "Master?"

He stared at her for a long moment, seemed simultaneously incredulous and smug before he said, "Depends."

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Fine, she'd just come out with it. "Is Kate…a sexual submissive?" She couldn't imagine it, but when Nick's eyes lit with humor, and he grinned, she became insulted.

Slany frowned, didn't think this was a bit funny. Here she was, carefully walking through a field of broken glass, afraid to say the wrong thing, and he was laughing at her!

"I've only ever had one D/s relationship, and that was in college."

She gaped, couldn't imagine him suppressing that side of himself for so long, despite the fact that she'd been doing exactly that all her life, that the only D/s relationship she'd experienced had not been the healthiest. Her experiences with Ron should have been enough, in fact, to turn her off of the idea of D/s for the rest of her life.

"I know what you're thinking. I would, too, if I were in your place. Who is he to tell or teach me anything, when he barely has any experience himself? Am I close?"

"Actually, I was wondering how you quelled your urges all these years."

"It hasn't been easy."

Slany saw the regret in his eyes, the lost time, wasted moments trying to pretend he was something he was not, hiding his true self from those he cared about and who cared about him.

They had more in common than she had ever imagined. In his solemn silence, his smoldering stare, she saw hints of a man so far unknown to her—a man who had seen and done things she could never conceive. A man who had been hurt and never wanted to let anyone in or close enough to hurt him again. A man who knew how to take care of what was his and would at any cost.

Slany palmed one high cheek, ran her fingers down the lightly whiskered plane of his jaw, gaze never leaving his as she leaned close. "One more transgression, before I decide on a safe word and we get this show on the road." She teased the seam of his mouth, took special pleasure in listening to his deep groan when she slid her tongue in. She shyly explored, boldly searched, sighing with relief when he kissed her back and finally mated his tongue with hers.

He bracketed her face with his big hands and took over the kiss, mouth hard and demanding as their tongues dueled long moments. He raked his hands through her hair to her nape, palmed her base of her skull and pressed her closer.

Slany put her hand in his lap and curved her fingers around the hard bulge she found there, felt his thick length throbbing against her palm. The sensation made her more anxious to feel him inside her, anxious to taste him.

Emboldened when Nick didn't react, other than his breath quickening, she unzipped his pants and slid in her hand. Molten lava suffused her body, zinging electric tingles to her clit and limbs, her hand suddenly on fire with the pulsing energy in her grasp.

Nick caught her wrist, pulled back his head enough to murmur, "You're taking a lot of liberties, baby."

"If I'm already going to be punished, I figured I'd make it worth my while."

He smiled, but caught her shoulders and set her back from him, zipping his pants and deflating her desire all in one fell swoop.

So, he wanted her to open up and trust him, but he didn't want to do the same.

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She would see about that.

"What's your safe word?"

"Vega, and yours?" She smiled, saw him frown before he answered.

"I don't have one."

"Is that because you're the Dominant?"

"That, and because there's nothing you can do to me that I won't like."

"That's a rather broad presumption."

"I know myself, and I don't have any limits."

"That you know of."

"Anyone ever tell you you're argumentative?"

She saw the twinkle in his eyes, knew he hadn't reached the end of his patience yet, that he was teasing her, and she grinned. "Actually, I have been told that a time or two. Perhaps I should have gone into litigation instead of advertising."

He put an arm around her. "Then I never would have met you."

"You don't believe in destiny?"

He turned up his lips in a smirk and pulled back a little. "You'd have to talk to my sister about that. Soul mates and New Age stuff is her territory, not mine."

Whoa, that was a loaded response, and she was almost certain to which sister he was referring and wondered what the whole story was there. "I guess I should take that as a no, then."

He caught one of her hands in his, leaned in to kiss her lips. "Let's finish this discussion upstairs."

Like they actually had a chance in hell of doing that. She knew as soon as he got her upstairs, he was going to take control completely and steer her as far away from anything personal, anything about his background, as fast as possible.

Slany wouldn't let him—not for long.

* * * *

"bedroom." But as surely as she and Thorpe, and not any fate or destiny, had thrown him and Slany together, Angela was with them as they entered his apartment, dogging his steps as he cut on the overhead seven-light chandelier and bathed the room in a soft, warm glow.

Slany stood in the middle of the living room, mouth parted as she slowly turned in a circle and took in her surroundings—eclectic and contemporary furnishings abounding within shades of cool cream and subtle varying shades of brown.

Nick had to admit his chest filled with pride at her appreciative whistle when she finished her survey and glanced at him.

"Did you do all this yourself?"

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"The decorating? Yeah."

"No help from the Fab Five?"

"Bite your tongue."

Slany chuckled, walked to the large teak wall unit across the room to take in the swarm of framed pictures on the shelves unoccupied by electronic and media equipment.

Nick heard her whistle again—this time, at the magnitude of people, places, and faces.

She glanced at him over a shoulder. "I think I met most of this gang at that Labor Day birthday party and cookout last year."

"Probably." Nick made his way over to her.

Once again, Angela, if only through a back door, had been injected into the conversation.

He'd rather forget that infamous cookout, but then, he'd have to relinquish his vision of a flame-haired beauty in green stepping to him just off the volleyball court.

When he got right down to it, the entire incident had actually been funny.

Unlike his siblings, Nick hadn't been able to see or appreciate the humor in Slany's unexpected arrival at his parents' house before this moment.

He guessed that meant he had gotten over it.

Nick put his hand on her shoulders, felt her tremble beneath his fingers right before he lifted her wrap, took it over to the cream chenille sofa, and draped it across the back.

She turned to watch him. "You don't get many visits here from your nieces and nephews, do you?"

"Why do you say that?"

"Oh, I don't know. The immaculate décor, glass tables, beautiful and expensive sculptures and vases…" She sidled by him to get a peek at the large eat-in kitchen, the Carrara marble counters and island spotless. "Just doesn't seem like a kid-friendly dwelling."

"It's a bachelor's dwelling, but my nieces and nephews come by on occasion. They just stay on their best behavior when they're here."

"No sticky fingerprints or crayon marks on your ecru walls."

"I was about to say none of my nieces or nephews are at that age, but I forgot one of my newest. He's almost two, but hasn't been for a visit yet. He has a new sister a couple of months old who keeps him and his mommy and daddy busy these days."

"You sound wistful."

"Hardly. I'm happy for my brother and his wife because they're happy and trying to fill their house with as many kids as they can handle. Kind of taking up where my mom and older sister left off." Nick felt the conversation veering towards some unwanted territory, the place where he usually let his partner know in no uncertain terms he was incapable of settling down and having kids: the former because he did not want a commitment or marriage, and the latter because he'd taken steps years ago to make sure that he never became a father.

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He adored all his nieces and nephews, loved being an uncle, but he'd known in his early twenties he didn't want to follow in his parents' and grandparents' footsteps, knew he wasn't daddy material. Most of the doctors he'd gone to, however, had shied away from performing the procedure on him until he was at least thirty.

His mother and sisters had flipped at the news of his vasectomy, though his Mom had been more accepting about his choice. Angela had been more vocal, going so far as to call him a selfish yuppie.

Would Slany side with his mom, or his oldest sister on the matter?

He looked at her, saw her curiosity brewing and waited for the questions to start flying.

But nothing came, not right away. His Slany was nothing if not patient and astute.

She tilted her head to one side, peered at him now.

"What?"

"I'm trying to picture you changing a dirty diaper or wiping a chocolate mustache off of a little boy's face."

"Ah shit, don't tell me you're one of those women."

"What women?"

"One of those clock-ticking, nesting types I seem to always run into."

Slany actually laughed, and the soft sultry sound made his dick stand at attention, hard and ready to follow any command. The little guy needed to be let in on who was giving orders and who was following.

"You have something against kids?"

"Not a thing as long as they belong to someone else." He watched her, and rather than the frown or look of distress he expected, Slany seemed relieved. Curiosity piqued, he asked, "What about you? Do you like kids?"

"This isn't exactly first-date type conversation."

"Hey, we've done a lot of things that aren't exactly first-date activity."

She fidgeted, running her fingers along the back of the sofa before she circled it to take a seat. "I like kids fine." She glanced up at him, expression a plea for him not to pursue his line of questioning.

Should he let her off the hook or not? Or was it her who had let him off the hook, by not prying and making him defend his decision not to procreate?

Nick decided to drop it for now. She was entitled to her little secrets, and he had as much to hide in the matter as she did. "C'mere." He caught her hand and pulled her close as they stood in front of the sofa.

He smoothed his palms down her arms, from shoulders to her hands, before clasping and intertwining his fingers with hers, leaning in to nuzzle her neck. "You smell delicious."

"Am I dessert?"

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Gracie C. McKeever

"Appetizer, main course… Sapa's food is great, but the pear plate just didn't do the trick, as intoxicating as it was."

"And you didn't even have the most intoxicating part."