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  Growling at her own stupidity, she decided to get a drink to settle her nerves.

  Even if he did show up at the party, she’d just spent the last two weeks ignoring his calls and not responding to his text messages. He’d gone silent three days ago. He’d gotten her message loud and clear.

  “Can I get a Pino, please?” Carissa waved down the bartender.

  A slender woman with long blonde hair pinned up in ponytails nodded. A dark red collar clung to her neck, and her black romper accentuated the slight curve of her hips. “Sure thing,” she answered and went about pouring a glass for her.

  “I’m not sure you should be drinking, little girl.”

  A warm hand wrapped around the back of her neck. And that voice. Her body already knew who it was, but she forcibly told herself to relax.

  “Oh, I think it’s fine. It is New Year’s Eve, after all,” she responded but didn’t turn. When she brought the wine glass to her lips, his hand tightened.

  “I think you should put it down, Carissa.”

  She didn’t put the wine down, nor did she take a sip. Pulling free of his grasp, she turned around and pressed herself against the bar. The edge bit into her back. She had nowhere to go. Jamison butted up against her chest. The scent of his aftershave filling the small space between them. How odd that a scent, a tiny little smell could ease rattled emotions.

  “A bit overdressed?” She slid into her comfortable armor of snark and wit.

  Just as she had fantasized, he wore a tailored tuxedo. Every bit of her mind had been right as to how devilishly gorgeous the man would be in such clothing. Not a single man present could compare. He looked like he owned the room. Hell, from what her online digging told her, he did own a portion of it.

  “It’s New Year’s Eve, like you pointed out.” His lips curled into a grin, though any amusement was well hidden. “I’m supposed to be hosting a big bash with Garrick tonight.”

  Still gripping the wine, she was tempted to gulp it down before he could snatch it from her. Her nipples tightened, going against her mental refusal to react to him.

  “Oh.” At least all of her social skills were still intact. Get it together, Carissa!

  “There was something I had to do, though, so I left.”

  She swallowed.

  “You’ve been ignoring me.” His eyes darkened with the accusation.

  “You stopped messaging a few days ago. I assumed you got the hint.” She lifted her right shoulder and put on her best disinterested face.

  “Oh, I got the message you wanted to send just fine. But, you see, it’s rude to ignore someone.”

  She shifted down the bar enough to put another few inches between their bodies. “And you’ve never ignored a girl you weren’t interested in?”

  He huffed a laugh and moved toward her, putting his hands on the bar. Perfectly trapping her against it. “You can pretend you aren’t interested. But we’d have to add lying to your list of naughty behaviors.”

  Her stomach twisted. Only wine would cure what ailed her at the moment.

  “If you take even one sip of that, little girl, you’ll regret it. Now, put it down.”

  She couldn’t let him think he had the upper hand. They hadn’t spoken in two weeks, after all, and she’d blown him off during that time. The edge of the glass slipped between her lips while she kept her eyes focused on his. Tiny wrinkles formed around his eyes as she tipped it and poured the liquid happiness into her mouth.

  “I see.” He nodded and removed the glass from her hand after she’d taken her sip. Before she could protest his audacity, he gripped her arm and pulled her forward. The crowd of people seemed to part for him as though he were some god. Though it probably had more to do with the dark glare he gave everyone. She’d seen it when she tried to yank her arm free. One glance back at her, and she gave no further protest.

  When he dragged her down the hallway, she kept her eyes on the nursery door, sure he was leading them there. But he pulled her past and on to the next door.

  “I don’t think we’re allowed in there,” she said as he jiggled the handle.

  He pinned her with another glare. “Stand right there.” He released her arm and dug through his pockets, pulling out a key ring and fumbling through the set until he found the one he wanted.

  Once the door was unlocked, he moved to the side and waved her in.

  She could run. She could turn around and head back into the main room and out of the club. Even if he caught up to her, a simple word uttered loud enough would keep him away.

  “Looks like you’re thinking, which is good. Something you haven’t been doing much of these past weeks.” His eyes darkened, the pupils expanding and covering up his iris.

  “That’s not fair.” She managed to stop the pout in her voice, but the dampness in her panties was beyond her control. Damn him and his deep, unyielding voice. “I was thinking.”

  His shoulders rolled back, and his jaw released some tension. “Come inside, Carissa. We’re going to talk.”

  “And that’s it?” She tilted her head to one side.

  The crease deepened around his mouth with his grin. “You’re adorable. Get inside.” His smile dropped, and he jerked a thumb in the direction of the empty room.

  She forced herself to move forward, past him, and through the doorway. A desk sat prominently in the middle of the room with two chairs, and in front of it a circle of folding chairs. The familiar smell of chalk and leather hit her.

  “Is this supposed to be a schoolroom or something?”

  He shut the door, flipping the lock on the handle. “It’s a meeting room. The club offers educational classes, tutorials, and support groups for members.”

  She nodded, looking around for something to concentrate on. All of her earlier pretending that she could hold her own with him vanished the moment he touched her. Because she craved his touch more than anything.

  “Carissa, why have you been ignoring me?” he asked.

  She spun around to face him. Any irritation he may have been holding over the past few minutes didn’t show in his casual stance. He leaned against the door, crossing his ankles and his arms.

  “I—” She took a deep breath. This is where the strong Carissa was supposed to take over, but, apparently, she’d taken the day off. “I don’t know.”

  “Sure, you do. You actively ignored my messages, didn’t respond to my texts. What made you do that? If you really weren’t interested, you could have said so—or blocked my number. But you didn’t do either of those things.”

  His hard stare consumed her. Heat rose in her cheeks, and her throat tightened. He deserved an answer. She had avoided him without cause or at least any that he knew about. Although she had perfectly sound reasons, she hadn’t explained any of them to him.

  “I told you at the Christmas party you didn’t have to take my number.” She had said exactly that, right before he went into a short lecture about after care.

  “I didn’t take your number, I asked for your number. Stop stalling.” The muscle in his jaw tightened.

  Little to no chance existed she’d be leaving the room without explaining herself.

  “Potato, patato.” She shrugged, promising her stomach the largest bowl of ice cream ever eaten if only it would keep the contents of her dinner locked up.

  “I see. Well, if you’re going to act like a little girl.” He grabbed her arm and brought her over to the desk, kicking the chair out and planting himself in it with little effort.

  “No. No, Jamison!” She struggled as he flipped her over his lap, but he easily trapped her, wrapping one arm around her waist.

  “We’ll see about no no.” His hand struck hard on her upturned bottom. The flimsy fabric of the little dress she’d worn for the evening offered no protection against his firm palm.

  “I didn’t say you could spank me!” She pushed against his thigh, trying to shove off his lap. He only responded by gripping her waist tighter and spanking faster.

&nbs
p; “Jamison!” She slapped his calf.

  His hand came down on the upcurve of her ass and stilled.

  “Did you just hit me?” The deep, dark voice didn’t brook disagreement. The type of voice she used to dream about, but now—hearing it firsthand, she swallowed hard and froze in position.

  “I asked a question. Did you hit me?” His fingers dug into her ass. Even through the material, she could feel the bite of his grip.

  “I—uh, it was a reaction.” She tried to rear up enough to look over her shoulder, but when she saw the glower on his face and the strong tick in his jaw, she went back to staring at the floor.

  The skirt of her dress flipped over her back. Cool air brushed across her exposed bottom, emphasizing the burn of her freshly spanked ass.

  “A thong?” He laughed, sliding one finger beneath the little string, pulling it away from her bottom, and letting it snap back down, just like he had their first night. “I was pretty clear about what a little girl should be wearing.” He rubbed his hand over her backside, washing away the lingering sting.

  His fingers trailed lower, pressing between her legs until he found what he sought, and what she needed him to find. For two weeks, she’d brought herself to pleasure at the idea of his fingers doing exactly this.

  “And this wetness here.” He slid beneath the thin material of the thong and gathered her arousal on his fingers. “What’s this for? Because you were being spanked like the naughty little girl you are, or because you’ve been dreaming of me doing this.” Two fingers pushed through her folds and into her passage.

  She held her breath, remaining still. Maybe if she didn’t move, he wouldn’t remember he was upset with her.

  “I’ve been worried, irritated, maybe a little pissed, but mostly worried about you. Two weeks ago, we had an amazing evening together and then you vanished on me.” His fingers pumped into her, distracting her from his words.

  “I promised myself if and when I caught up with you, I’d make you regret your actions.” His fingers pumped faster, harder. She spread her legs and arched her back, giving him better access.

  “I’m sorry,” she said on a hard breath. Her heart raced; lungs pumped to take in air as he continued to fuck her with his fingers. “Oh. God.” The pressure. The pleasant buildup to the impending explosion.

  “Oh. I’m sure you think you are, but not yet.” He unraveled his hand from her waist, and spread her ass cheeks, thrusting harder and faster into her. The chair squeaked from the force of their movements.

  “Oh! Oh!” She sucked in air, waiting for the dam to burst.

  His hand. The forceful, thick fingers of his hand disappeared.

  She cried out, “No!” and tried to wiggle off his lap.

  He wrapped his arm back around her waist and laid into her ass again, delivering twelve stinging swats before he stopped. She wiggled and cried out, but by the time he’d gotten to the last smack, she was a puddle on his lap. Tears ran down her face, either from the loss of the most explosive orgasm she’d been so close to having or the raging sting taking over her ass. It didn’t really matter. She was miserable.

  When she finished crying, he pulled her up to her feet and moved her to stand between his knees. He held her hands in front of her, stopping her from acting on any ideas about rubbing the soreness away or finishing what he started.

  “Do you not want to see me?” Vulnerability weaved into his words.

  “No!” So much for the suave demeanor. “I mean, that’s not it. I do—did—do want to see you. I just…” She sniffled. “It’s not going to work, Jamison. It was fine for a fun night like the Christmas party, but not for long term, not in real life. These things don’t last.”

  He sat back in the chair, pulling her into his lap. “What things?” He produced a handkerchief and wiped away her tears and beneath her nose.

  “These things. Couples who meet at the dungeon. They don’t last, and I’m tired of pretending they do. And besides that, you’re uptown, and I’m, well, not. What would your family think? What would your friends think?”

  “Don’t bring money into this. That’s a line of bullshit, and you know it. As for the other—I know plenty of couples who have lasted a long time,” he said.

  “What? They dated for a few months, maybe even a year, but that’s it. Once the fun wears off, it’s over.”

  “Garrick and Jade are making a go of it,” he pointed out.

  She shook her head. “Yeah, but they’ve known each other forever. They aren’t the same as people like us.”

  He tweaked her nose. “You are the first woman ever not to want to date because she was afraid of commitment. Most girls I’ve known started hinting at collars and wedding rings a few months in.”

  “That’s because they know if they don’t get that ring on, it’s not going to last. Hell, even if the ring goes on—” She sniffled and shook her head. “Look. Long term doesn’t work in this kind of relationship, and I don’t want a vanilla relationship, so it’s better if we don’t pretend. I mean we can play when we see each other but other than that—” She shrugged to finish her sentence.

  “You’re serious about this? You’re just looking for a play partner?” He pinched her chin between two fingers and pulled her face closer to his.

  “If that doesn’t interest you—”

  “I don’t think it interests you.” The firm way he spoke got her attention. “I’ve seen you, Carissa. Over the past few weeks, I’ve seen you here in the club. Guys come up to you, you talk with them a bit then ditch them. If what you were really looking for was some quick session, you wouldn’t have turned them all down.”

  “How did you see me? You weren’t here.” And all her cards were shown.

  His eyes widened a hair, and he shook his head. “I’ll admit it. The security camera’s play on our computers, and I usually have them on in the background when I’m working here. When you popped up, I took a little extra time with the screen.”

  “But you weren’t even here.”

  He tilted his head. “And how do you know that?” He wiped a strand of hair from her face. “Don’t answer. I already know. Steve mentioned you asked a few times. He didn’t realize we knew each other.”

  Her stomach sank. She had asked Steve nearly every night she’d come to the club, except for tonight. She’d been so nervous when she checked in, she had forgotten to ask.

  “Why’d you turn down all those men? They’re good guys. I know most of them, and not a single member of this club doesn’t get screened thoroughly.”

  Time to get the spotlight off her and back onto him.

  “I’ve seen you around, too. Before we met at Mistletoe Madness. You aren’t a relationship kind of guy either. You rotate subs like you change your sheets.” Snark would have to be her line of defense against him. Just his fingers on her, touching and cradling her chin, was enough to make her resolve weaken, and she didn’t want to be weak. Not for him, not for anyone.

  “I may have been with my share of women, but never because I don’t want to end up with someone.”

  “I know.” She smiled. “It’s because relationships like this don’t last.” Point—Carissa!

  “I think you need another spanking.” His grin cracked through the seriousness of his words. “Give me a month. You take us seriously for one month, and then we’ll decide what to do.”

  “A month?” She wanted to laugh, but he still had her chin and didn’t seem to be willing to let go anytime soon.

  “Yes. One month, fully invested.”

  “Why would you want to do that for me?” She searched his expression. “Is it because I said no? You want what you can’t have?”

  His grip tightened on her chin. “Do you think you scare me, little girl?”

  She didn’t know what to say to that, so she said nothing.

  “You don’t think anything lasts, so why not take a chance? You put up with me for one month, and then we will decide together if we end or we continue.”

&nb
sp; “I don’t see how one month proves anything.”

  “Maybe it doesn’t, but maybe it proves everything. Only one way to find out.” The corner of his mouth turned up.

  “You still haven’t answered my question. Why me?” It sounded like a demand, even to her.

  She wasn’t one of those girls who fell for every pickup line a man gave her. If Jamison had really been waiting to get his hands on her for two weeks, he needed to tell her why.

  He sighed, pushed a thick curl from her face, and tucked it behind her ear. A few strands had come loose from her braid during her spanking.

  “You are nothing like any woman I’ve ever met, and I want to get to know you better.”

  No pickup line. No false flattery meant to make her panties wet and her heart thump. A simple truth.

  Her mind raced, lists of reasons it wouldn’t work, checklists of ways it would go bad, and a laundry list of hurts she’d suffer if she went through with it.

  He stroked her cheek with his thumb. “Don’t overthink, Carissa.”

  Sound advice.

  Terrifying advice.

  “Okay. One month.” She raised a single finger between them.

  He chuckled. Letting go of her chin, he grabbed her finger and brought it down to her lap.

  The thick kissable lips she’d dreamed about earlier pressed against hers. Electric shivers ran the length of her body, heating every fiber and waking every nerve ending. She clutched his tuxedo jacket in her fists, leaning into the kiss and giving over when his tongue brushed her bottom lip. His hand wrapped possessively around her body. The building could’ve burned down around her, and she wouldn’t have batted an eye.

  When he broke the kiss, pulling back and ending the spell, she blinked a few times. Her lips felt swollen and chilled with him gone.

  “You understand this makes you mine.”

  She licked her lips, wanting more of his taste. “Yes.”

  “No, no. If you’re mine, you answer properly.”

  Her cheeks flamed; her heart quickened. “Yes, Daddy.”

  “Good girl. Now about that wine.”

  Chapter 4