Fall Into You (17 page)

“I know that,” she said in a huff. “I guess I’m just having a hard time grasping how…involved
this all is.”

“For some people, it’s not that complicated. They may be perfectly happy with those
plastic cuffs, and that’s great. But this is a lifestyle for me, my way of being.
It’s not something I can punch in and out of. When I’m involved with a woman, even
in a temporary capacity, the need to dominate is like a living, breathing thing.”

She held his gaze for a moment, then looked down at her water glass as if needing
a second to process what he’d said. “Right.”

“Hey”—he reached across the table and laid a hand over hers—“no one said you have
to do this. You can back out now or at any point. I’m not trying to scare you. I just
need you to know what this is about, what I’m about.”

She ventured a glance upward. “I’m not scared, not for my safety at least.”

He nodded, pleased to hear that she at least trusted him on some level. He let go
of her hand, giving her some space to speak whatever was on her mind.

“There isn’t much that makes me nervous. Hell, ask Max. I’m sure I’ve taken years
off his life with my thrill seeking. I’ve skydived, played tackle football with dudes
twice my size, been on a roller-derby team. I’ve probably had more concussions and
broken bones than many pro athletes.” She gave him a wan smile. “But this is so far
outside of my realm, it makes all that stuff look like cake. I look around at the
women here, and I feel like I come from a different species.”

“I assure you, you don’t. I checked you out thoroughly the other day.”

“Very funny. I’m just worried I’ll spend these two weeks completely embarrassing myself.”
She looked down at her discarded shoes. “I can’t even wear heels without tripping.”

Her bottom lip jutted out in frustration, creating an unintentional pout. He had an
urge to sink his teeth into that plump pink flesh. She was so damn cute when she was
annoyed. “That only takes a little practice.”

She gave him a
yeah, right
look. “I’m not even sure why you agreed to do this. There’s obviously no shortage
of women around here willing to, uh…service you or whatever. Every time I speak your
name it’s like I’ve mentioned some goddamned rock star.”

He snorted.

Amusement lit her eyes. “What? I’m serious. I think some of the girls are planning
to make I Heart Grant T-shirts.”

She drew a heart shape in the air between them, while batting her eyelashes in an
overexaggerated imitation of his so-called admirers.

He smirked, loving that she had no filter. Thought to mouth. He wondered if that’s
the real reason her bosses were reluctant to put her on the air. Nothing like live
TV and someone who isn’t afraid to say exactly what’s on her mind. Could be disastrous.

It was going to get her in trouble as his sub as well, but he couldn’t help looking
forward to administering the fun consequences. “First of all, you wouldn’t be servicing
me, you’d be subbing for me. Different animal. This isn’t prostitution. Both parties
get equal benefit in this arrangement.”

“Right. So I get the benefit of earning the right to service you?” she said, her sarcasm
about as subtle as a tractor-trailer.

The waiter stopped by the booth and upon hearing Charli’s words, simply laid down
the escargot appetizer, gave Grant a new drink, and disappeared.

Grant took a sip of his club soda, amused. “That
is
a great benefit, but no. What you get is, well, that can be different for each person.
Most subs would say they find freedom in the role.”

She eyed the appetizer and frowned. “Freedom? By being someone else’s slave?”

“Being a slave in this world is a bit different that what we’re doing. Though I know
slaves here who would say they’ve never felt free until they found their master.”
He grabbed one of the tiny forks and put a snail on a toast point, making sure to
get lots of garlic butter sauce with it. He held it out to Charli, who took it reluctantly,
then made a matching bite for himself. “But you never wonder what it’d be like to
have a true break from everyday life? To not have to make any decisions or pretend
to be something you’re not? To wake up and know that all you have to do that day is
let someone else take care of anything you may need?”

She sniffed the toast, examining it. “I’m thinking I could accomplish that with a
trip to Barbados and an attentive waiter.”

He laughed. “Yes, but could that waiter teach you how to wow those horseshit-for-brains
bosses of yours with your feminine charm?”

She popped the escargot into her mouth and mumbled “no” whilst chewing.

“Don’t talk with your mouth full.” He took his own bite and watched the flare of rebellion
flicker over her expression. He lifted an eyebrow, daring her to challenge him, but
to her credit she held back her natural instinct to lash out.

Her eyes narrowed as she took a sip of water. “That wasn’t a mushroom, was it?”

“Snail.”

She winced. “Fabulous. Maybe a warning next time, cowboy.”

“You could’ve asked me what it was. Did you like it?”

She grabbed another piece of bread and dipped it in the sauce,
skipping the snail. “Yes, but they could probably pour this butter sauce on your boot
and it would make leather taste good.”

Hmm
. Visions of Charli putting her lips to his shoe drifted through his mind. He smiled.
Maybe she’d come to know exactly what leather tasted like before their two weeks were
up. “That can be arranged if you’d like to test the theory.”

She coughed, half-choking on her last bite of bread. “Shit. Everything I say around
here is going to get me in trouble. You’ll never catch me kissing any guy’s shoe.”

He leaned forward and put a finger to her lips. “No cursing. Unless we’re in bed,
then it’s fair game. New, refined Charli is going to know how and when to speak like
a lady.”

Her lips pursed beneath his finger.

“In fact, any time you slip up, you’ll earn a punishment of my choosing.”

She tried to bite his finger, but he pulled away in time. “I have a feeling I’m going
to be spending most of these two weeks in time-out.”

“Oh, my punishments will be much more hands-on than putting you in a corner,” he promised.
“And much more effective. Though, based on how you reacted to the belt the other day,
I have a feeling you may enjoy that part.”

She didn’t have a pithy response this time. Instead, she took a sudden, deep interest
in her open menu. But he knew she wasn’t deciding between steak or fish when a soft
pink crept up her neck and found its way to her cheeks. My, my, maybe his little reporter
had more of an appreciation for pain than he thought.

The sight had him wanting to skip dinner altogether. What exactly was she thinking
about? Was her body warming at the thought of him disciplining her? Of him putting
his hands on her? Because his temperature was certainly rising. Or was she simply
embarrassed by the conversation?

She was such a puzzle. Coarse and hardheaded, beautiful and awkward, intelligent and
driven. Anyone who met her would see right away she was a woman in charge of her life.
But there, underneath all that, seemed to be something so vulnerable and innocent.
Fragile, even.

And that had him both hungry for her and damn terrified.

Because if he could tear through all that other stuff, get to the core of where that
glimmer was coming from, he was afraid he may not want to take her collar off when
two weeks was up.

And there wasn’t much he wouldn’t try in this world.

But
permanent
wasn’t in his vocabulary.

Charli could barely focus on chewing her fish. Why was she so damn jittery? It was
as if her blood had been replaced with Red Bull. She’d thought she could hold her
own with Grant. She’d even managed to banter with him at the beginning of dinner,
despite him looking so damn hot in that suit of his.

But as the conversation had gone on, she’d felt the shift in their dynamic. Like tilting
a water table, the power had rolled over to him. He corrected her posture, her bad
language, the way she kept tugging at the low-cut bodice of her dress. He was subtle
about it, but she didn’t miss the significance. She had agreed to put herself in his
hands. To be his…property.

The thought was still too much to wrap her head around. She’d spent half her life
wiggling out from under her father’s and brothers’ crushing overprotectiveness, and
now here she was giving the power over to a guy. Maybe all those concussions
had
caused some brain damage.

Grant glanced at her uneaten dinner, frowned. “Did you read through the contracts
I sent you?”

Boy, had she. Some of the items listed in those papers had made her eyes pop…and others
had made her body stir—even if the whole idea of a contract felt sort of clinical.
She set her fork down and tried to drink some iced tea, hoping her voice wouldn’t
croak when it came out. “I did.”

“Did you add any hard limits to mine?” he asked, his tone as casual as if they were
discussing whether the Cowboys would make it to the playoffs this year. He took a
sip of his drink, his eyes never leaving hers.

She’d looked closely at his limits. Most had been things related to The Ranch’s rules
and safety. He’d also included his medical test results and had her verify hers. The
only one that had stood out was that his sub was not allowed to stay at his cabin.
She would be provided her own space.

Even though she knew this wasn’t a real relationship and hadn’t been expecting overnight
cuddling or whatever, seeing it in black and white had still stung a bit. She decided
he needed a little poke as well. “Yes. I added one.”

“Oh? Pray tell.”

“No sex.”

Mr. Cool Cowboy coughed, set his glass down. “Excuse me?”

She grinned, pleased that he looked so distressed. Maybe she still had some power
in this dynamic after all. “Kidding. I’m so new to this, I’m still not sure what my
hard limits could be. I didn’t add anything to yours.”

He didn’t look at all amused by her little joke. He pulled his napkin from his lap
and set it next to his plate. “Charli, I’m starting to wonder if we’re making a big
mistake here.”

She paused, her fork hovering over her plate. “Wait, what? Come on, I was only messing
with you. Don’t be so uptight.”

“This is not me being uptight. This is you trying to snatch back some control of the
situation.” He pushed his plate aside and set his
elbows on the table, leaning forward. “Tell me why you’re doing this.”

She set her fork down and shifted in her seat, uncomfortable under his unyielding
gaze. Had he answered when she’d asked him the same question? She couldn’t remember
what his response had been if he had. “You know why. I need to learn some things.
Be more refined, as you put it.”

His frown deepened. “You could learn that in one of those manners classes people give
for debutantes. Why are you agreeing to give yourself to me?”

She fiddled with the edges of the napkin in her lap, wracking her brain for an answer.
Why
was
she doing this? Yes, she wanted to learn to be more feminine. But he was right; she
didn’t need to be someone’s submissive to do that. Was it simply because she was attracted
to him and knew this was the only way he had relationships?

No, she may have not had a lover in a while, but she wasn’t desperate. She’d long
ago learned how to take care of her own sexual needs. She was better at it than any
guy had ever been. Well, until the other day in the kitchen. She’d never get
that
kind of orgasm on a solo tour. But still…

Why this?

Grant reached out and put a knuckle beneath her chin, forcing her to look at him.
“Charli, I need your honesty here. I don’t want to take this any further until I know
where you are with this.”

She nodded, attempted a small smile, failed. Honesty, huh? Fine. What did she have
to lose at this point. “I’ve had three relationships in my life. The first in high
school with a cornerback who was happy to relieve me of my virginity, but not so keen
on telling his friends he was sleeping with the team’s ‘chick kicker’ instead of a
cheerleader. Another early in college with the guy who is now my boss.”