She was quiet for so long I thought she might be finished talking.
I drew in a breath and let it out again. I wanted to tell her she was wrong. Part of me believed she was. But I’d also seen the scenario she described played out over and over with friends. As the guy who was usually friends with the guy, I just assumed the women were good with things—putting careers on hold or slowing them down for family obligations. Maybe they were, but maybe they weren’t.
“It’s the reason I don’t usually tell the guys I date what I do for a living. Present company excluded,” she said, startling me out of my thoughts. She pressed what felt like a conciliatory kiss to my chest, but I’d take it. I was the guy who got to see the real Charlotte. “It’s also the reason I don’t get involved—not seriously—with other attorneys or guys with big careers. Or really anyone. I worked too hard for my career to ever choose anythingelse.” She tipped her head to the side, considering, as if she were checking to see if her admission hurt my feelings.
When I had time to think about it later, it might, but at the moment, I had bigger problems. I might be the guy who got to see the real Charlotte, but she didn’t know anything about the real me. I had a big career. Hell, I was working to build a fucking empire. In the beginning, who I was hadn’t come up. I hadn’t hidden it or what I did, but I knew she’d made assumptions about me tending bar. It suited my purpose so I hadn’t dissuaded her, but we were a long way from that now. And headed toward a time when that decision would likely come back to bite me in the ass. I said a silent prayer that I’d figure it all out before we hit that place.
“I think a real partnership means just that. Equal partners who give and take, not one person who always plays pit crew to the other. But I guess every couple has to figure out that balance for themselves. And I don’t doubt lots of them get it wrong. That doesn’t mean it has to be that way.” I paused, looking for an exit ramp for the conversation. I wanted to ask Charlotte if she wanted to have children. I wanted to show her who I was, and convince her that I had no problem partnering with a woman whose career was as big or bigger than mine. But I was pretty sure starting down any of those paths would send Charlotte running, and I wanted her in my arms more. Because I was a selfish fucking bastard.
“Doesn’t mean it’s not.” She nipped at my pec again, and I tightened my arms around her and rolled her on top of me.
“I don’t think you’re the asshole, but if it would assuage your guilt, I’d be happy to administer an appropriate punishment.” I ran my palm over the smooth curve of her ass, letting my fingertips skim the slick heat of her sex.
“Really.” The word was part tease, part challenge.
She opened her legs for me, straddling my waist, and I pulled my hand back and gave the fleshy part of her ass a swat. Her thighs tightened around my hips and her blue eyes flared with heat. Indignation. Interest.
I could work with all of those.
––––––––
MY ASS STUNG and heat bloomed where Ford’s hand had been a moment earlier. The man actually spanked me. Or if not yet exactly, he seemed to be laying the groundwork. I wanted to be incensed. Angry. Indignant. Who the fuck did he think he was?
At that moment, he was the man turning me on.
I wasn’t naïve. My best friend built her business working as a practice submissive. I knew lots of people got off on that kind of power exchange. Walking the line between pleasure and pain. Alex and Erik did. She’d shared in the kind of detail that made me reach for the ice water exactly how much she enjoyed a flogger in Erik’s hand. I was nowhere near ready for that, but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t curious. I’d just never found a man strong enough to even think about surrendering to.
Ford was strong enough. I didn’t know how I knew. It might not make sense on paper, but my body knew the man was more than strong enough to help me fly and catch me when I did. The bigger question was whether I was strong enough to let go. That was a much heavier lift.
“Still with me, cher?” He ran his hand over my ass, the touch combining with the aftershocks from the sting into a delicious, overly sensitive feeling.
If one touch of his hand did that, what would happen if I actually let the man spank me? Was I really considering it? He’d joked about an appropriate punishment, but I didn’t think that’s what any of this was about. At least I hoped it wasn’t. I’d never been big on self-flagellation. If I did something wrong, I didn’t beat myself up about it. I fixed it. I had no interest in some kind of arbitrary definition of punishment—self-inflicted or other. I was interested in what would happen if I let Ford spank me, but I didn’t know how the fuck I was supposed to tell him that.
I opted for the non-verbal, arching my back to press my ass into his palm. I felt his chest rumble against my cheek in what felt like approval. He grabbed my ass with his callused hand, squeezing just enough to make me squirm against him.
“I’m going to need to hear you say the words, Charlotte. Do you want me to spank you?”
Of course he’d make me ask for it. It made perfect sense. Consent demanded it. I wouldn’t have trusted him if he hadn’t insisted. I really didn’t want to say it out loud. I wasn’t even sure I wanted him to do it. Except that part was a lie. I wasn’t comfortable with why I wanted it, but I was more than curious. I wanted Ford’s hand on my ass, making me feel things I hadn’t felt before. I wanted to see what it was like, to feel where he could take me. And for one afternoon, I wanted to let go and have someone else be in charge for a change.
“Yes.” I sucked in my breath and tightened everything in anticipation of where his hand would land.
“Not like that. Sit up for a minute so we can talk.”
More talking. The whole reason for choosing the spanking was to skip all the talking and just feel. I scrambled to sit beside him, ready to call the whole thing off. Hell, I was ready to bolt. Sitting was halfway to standing, which was halfway to out the door and away from every awkward bit of this.
But if I ran, it would mean I’d lose my chance to figure out whether it was something I liked or not. Ford wasn’t the only man in the world, but he was the only one I’d even considered trying something like this with. Who knew how long it would be before I met someone else I was willing to take a chance with. In the end, my curiosity won out, the way it usually did.
“So talk.” There was no hiding the snark in my voice, and he arched an eyebrow at me. It was almost as if I was trying to give him a reason to want to turn me over his knee.
Fuck me.He was going to drape me over his lap. As soon as I had the thought, I knew it was true. My pulse kicked up and I swallowed hard. It was one thing to let the man spank me. It was something entirely different to be an active participant. Except what did I think was going to happen? Ford would always demand I was an active participant, if for no other reason than he’d insist I was engaged and okay with everything we did together, whether it was frying beignets or impact play. I’d spent enough time with Alex to know some of the vocabulary.
“I have no intention of hitting you hard enough to cause real pain, but you’re still going to need a safe word.”
“Muffuletta.” I had a dozen books on my bookshelf where the heroine needed a safeword. It was always something you wouldn’t accidently say. In this case, it also made Ford smile, which was something I loved doing.
“Muffuletta it is. Come here, cher. Let me make you come.” He sat with his back against the headboard, watching me like I was some kind of delicious treat and he couldn’t decide where to take the first bite.
There might be a woman alive who’d turn down that offer from Ford, but I doubted it. It wasn’t me. I knelt beside him, and he wrapped his arms around me, pulling me in for a quick kiss with just enough of his skilled tongue to short-circuit the part of my brain responsible for my impulse control. It was okay. I didn’t need it. I could leave all that to Ford for the next little bit. There was something remarkably freeing about that. Under other circumstances, it might be enough to get me halfway to orgasm. Now it added to the anticipation thrumming through my veins.
