Then he moved to the counter, picked up a thin packet of papers, and handed it to me.
I took it automatically, still catching up, and looked down.
At the top, in clean, neat print, it read:
BDSM Checklist.
I bit my lip before I could stop myself.
“This is yours?”
“It’s the one I use with potential subs.”
Well that got me warm and fuzzy, because it meant this wasn’t some little one-off thing he was trying out on me just because I had asked. He had done this before. There had been other women. Other subs. Other people he had looked at and decided were worth bringing into that part of his life, and now he was standing there looking at me like I might belong there too.
Potential subs.
The phrase made this feel suddenly, alarmingly real.
He nodded toward the packet. “When you get home from work, fill it out. We’ll go over it tonight.”
I flipped through the first couple of pages, already catching words that made my stomach jump, and before I could stop myself I looked up and said, “Maybe I should just call out sick.”
One of his brow went up.
I smiled quickly. “Kidding.”
Mostly.
He kept watching me for one extra second, like he was deciding whether he believed that, and I had the sudden, ridiculous urge to tell him I absolutely could be persuaded if he wanted to do the persuading.
Probably a thought best kept to myself.
So I hugged the packet to my chest instead and backed toward the hallway. “I should get ready.”
“Yes,” he said. “You should.”
I turned and headed back to my room before he could see too much on my face.
Once the door shut behind me, I just stood there for a second with the packet still in my hands, staring down at it like it might disappear if I looked away.
This was real.
Not flirting. Not me making something out of the way he said my name or the way he looked at me when I pushed him. Not a fantasy I had built in my head because I was bored and horny and stuck in his apartment.
Real.
I had wanted this.
And now I had it.
That thought hit me all over again, hot and thrilling and just a little terrifying.
Then I looked back down at the checklist, smiled despite myself, and thought, well, shit.
I really did get what I wanted.
Chapter Seven: Daddy, Can I?