Page 55 of Axe Marks the Spot

“Then what do you think you could do to ease my disappointment?”

If I thought my mouth was dry before, it is now. Ease his disappointment…What I’m thinking is not what he’s picturing. Because there is no way he’s picturing me on my knees in front of him, reaching for the button of his jeans.

God, I need to get laid or something. This is getting out of control.

I reach toward my nightstand and pick up my wine glass. My lips press to the cool glass, but before I can take a sip, Dane’s voice rings through my phone in a cool command. “Do not take a sip of that wine.”

The bark in his tone brooks no argument. I put down the glass and look at him, feeling that tingly feeling low in my body. “Did I do something wrong?” I ask.

“Have you had a lot to drink tonight?”

“No, a couple of sips.”

“Good, you are to drink water for the rest of the night.”

“What? Why?”

He raises an eyebrow, and my chin dips, but I force my eyes to remain on his like I know he wants.

“Are you talking back again?” he asks.

I press my lips together and shake my head. “I’ll only drink water the rest of the night, Sir.”

His lip twitches at my slipup, and I realize how bad I am at calling him Dane when he’s in Sir mode.

“Have you forgotten I want you to remain sober when we speak?”

There is a clause about that in our contract, but it’s not like this session was planned. I know it’s not a time for me to argue that, though, so I nod. “I remember.”

“Good. Can you tell me why you reached for your wine when I asked you how you could please me?”

Please me. Eff my life. “I—” What do I tell him?

The truth. He did want honesty. But this is not supposed to be sexual, and what I’m thinking is definitely sexual.

“Lindsey, I’m asking you a question.”

My heart races in my chest, and before I can think again, I say, “It was something sexual, Sir.”

My cheeks burn pink, and the buzzing sound of crickets and cicadas seems to intensify through the quiet of the line, my confession along with my Sir slipup hanging between us.

“I see.”

“You know what?” I chuckle nervously. “Maybe I should hang up for tonight. I’m tired, and this has been good. I’ll journal and send you—”

“Lindsey, stop.”

His demand ceases my words, and I stare into his sharp eyes.

“You will not hang up.”

“Okay,” I respond.

“If you’re comfortable, will you share with me what it was?”

That was…not what I was expecting him to say. I thought it was against his rules. My heart thuds in my ears, and I wish I had a glass of cold water to drink. Very cold water.

“I, um…I wanted to kneel in front of you and—” I can’t finish the rest, and he knows it. Dane shifts in his chair slightly, so slightly I would have missed it had I blinked. My toes curl in my socks again, and I attempt to wet my lips with my dry tongue.