“We are friends,” I point out. The truth is, he’s the best friend I have. I see him two or three nights a week, and he always stops and talks to me for a while. I’m not being fair, so now I backtrack. “And it’s not like I don’t like you. I mean, I’m sure every woman likes you. If I were interested in dating, you would be on the shortlist.”
He chuckles. “How many people are on the shortlist?”
“Well, one,” I admit. Why on earth have I told him this?
He laughs harder and releases my hand.
I miss his touch already. His hands are strong and warm. Every time he’s brushed against me in the last few months, I’ve enjoyed it. And I’m completely pitiful that something as small as a brush of fingers is the extent of my excitement.
“Okay, so, here’s where we stand. I’d like to take you out on a date. You would go out with me if you were dating. But you’re not. So we’re friends who like each other that way but not acting on it. Do I have that right?”
He’s teasing me, and I roll my eyes.
His breath hitches, and he reaches over again, this time to grab my chin. “All bets are off if you’re going to roll your eyes at me though, Cindy. I’m still a Dom, and one of my biggest turn-ons is women who roll their eyes at me.” He’s serious.
I hold my breath, not blinking while I stare at him. When he doesn’t break his expression after several seconds, I know he wasn’t kidding, and I part my lips. “Okay.” I squirm in my seat. Fuck me. My God. My heart is racing. I haven’t been this turned on in a damn long time.
For what seems like an eternity but is really less than a minute, I’m someone else. Someone who belongs at Surrender. Someone submissive. Someone who would give anything to have her own Dom.
Suddenly, he runs his thumb along my bottom lip and then releases me. His gaze is still on mine as he sits back. Eventually, he rubs his forehead with his fingers. He sighs. “How about you pull out your calc book and show me what you’re working on.”
“Okay. Sure.” I scramble to get it out of my bag, grateful for the reason to look away from him. Is it hot in here? Suddenly, I’m shaking and a bit sweaty. I’m also turned on. Shit.
Chapter 3
Three weeks later…
Master Hudson
I’ve done my best to keep my hands to myself, my dick in check, and my mind on calculus. I have. Every Saturday morning and every Tuesday night. That’s six times I’ve met up with Cindy to help her with calculus.
I know two things. First, if we continue to do this twice a week for the entire semester, she will pass the class, at least with a C. She’s incredibly intelligent, but calculus is not her strong subject. Second, I’m going to have very blue balls by the end of the semester.
The best part about this arrangement is that I see her five times a week now. Saturdays and Tuesdays to study. Wednesday, Friday, and Saturday nights at Surrender.
I have no idea why the hell I’m so obsessed with her. It’s a horrible idea. She’s given me no indication she’s interested in more than what we have. Hell, I can’t even be sure she’s submissive. The signs are there, but I could be fooling myself. I don’t think I could give up my kink for anyone.
We’re at the pizza place where we meet on Tuesdays, and she’s bent over her notebook working a problem while I sit next to her in the booth and stare at her profile. Her hair looks so damn soft. It’s always pulled back in the same low ponytail, and I have wanted to yank out the band more times than I can count so that I can see it tumble over her shoulders.
It’s long and thick and wavy. It would cover her breasts if she were naked. Which reminds me, I’d also like to see her breasts. She doesn’t exactly hide them. She often wears tank tops at work. Nearly always. Tank tops and jeans. I can see her curves. She’s slender with small breasts that would just fill my palms.
I run a hand down my face, trying to shake free of the images. This woman is way under my skin, and I’m not sure how to convince her to give me another piece of her. Anything. Even one small piece that would fuel me for a while until I can talk her into the next piece.
I’m not sure why I’m so into her. It’s illogical. The club is filled with plenty of women who are perfectly willing to submit to me. Men too. And I don’t mind. I will dominate anyone. I’m good at it. They know it.
I haven’t had sex with anyone since I moved to Seattle, and that’s adding to my blue balls. It’s not like me. I usually have a few partners who submit to me and also like to take things that extra step.
The first person I met at Surrender when I moved to Seattle was Cindy, though. And she caught my eye that first night. It was before I knew that she didn’t ever enter the club. It was before I knew what a challenge she would be.
Obviously, she’s far more than a challenge. She’s got a thick, high wall around her that’s nearly impenetrable. I’m still looking for a crack in the bricks.
She suddenly lifts her head, grinning. “I think I got that one.” She pushes the notebook toward me.
I lower my gaze and go over her work. She’s done it. “Yep. Now all you have to do is another four or five problems like that one in the next few days, and you’ll do great on the quiz.”
She claps her hands together and bounces a bit on the seat. I’m not sure I’ve seen her this happy before. Her cheeks are flushed and she reaches over the top of her books to grab a slice of pizza.
I smile at her, unable to stop myself. She’s breathing life into me right now. It’s hard not to watch her excitement and soak it in. Sauce runs down her chin when she takes a bite, and I reach over and wipe it off with my thumb. It’s not until I’m licking the red, spicy sauce off my thumb that I realize what I’ve done.
She’s stopped moving except to lick her lips. She lowers her slice of pizza to the plate. “Thank you. For everything. I’d seriously be flunking this class without your help.”
I’m shocked by her sudden change of subject and mood. Half of me wants to kick myself for disrupting her excitement with my inability to control my instinct to touch her.
Fuck. I don’t want to just touch her. I want to dominate her. I want her on her knees in front of me, her head bowed like it is now, her hair falling over her shoulders. Knees wide. Chest high. Naked.
Dammit. My imagination is making things worse. “My pleasure. You’re most welcome,” I manage to respond.
Suddenly, she lifts her head, turns to face me, and leans her entire body toward mine. Before I know it, her lips are on mine. She’s kissing me.
Jesus. My God. I don’t dare move a muscle except to kiss her back. It’s brief. It’s chaste. It’s heaven.
She’s breathing heavily when she pulls back. And then she smiles, her cheeks even redder. “I did that.”
I chuckle. “You did. Yes.”
She quickly packs up her books and stuffs them into her bookbag. As she finishes and sets the bag on its side on the table, I grab her hand. “Cindy…”
She sighs. “Sorry.”
I lift her chin, forcing her to face me. “For what?”
“For kissing you, of course.” And then she rolls her eyes. It takes her a moment to realize what she’s done. Her breath hitches and her body goes stiff.