Light Switch (3 page)

Scott cocked his head. “What?”

“Never mind. Tell me more.”

He hesitated, then went on. “A lot of people think kink is about violence and abuse. That couldn’t be farther from the truth. It’s all about power, trust, control, pushing boundaries, things like that.”

Nodding slowly, I looked out at the street below us. “I know. That’s why it intrigues me so much these days.”

“But you’ve never tried it.”

“I wanted to. Alec didn’t. I wanted to try it with him, and figured that would be a safe way to explore it since we had an established relationship.” I paused. “And, I suppose you could call what we had ‘trust’.”

Scott pursed his lips. “Hmm. Maybe it’s just as well you never tried it with him, then.”

“What do you mean?”

“
Did
you trust him?”

“I, well, I guess I did.”

He shook his head. “Unless you can answer ‘yes’ without a moment’s hesitation, he was definitely not someone you wanted to play around with. If you don’t trust each other, you don’t want to go anywhere near the lifestyle.”

“Good point.” I watched my finger trace a crack in the concrete railing a few inches from where Scott was sitting. “Though it makes a bit more sense than trying it with a stranger, you know?”

“True.”

“So, I don’t know, maybe for now I’ll just stick to finding someone a little more adventurous, then see if I can’t convince him to branch out a bit more.”

“Probably not a bad idea,” he said. “Though someone with more experience might be the better choice. Better than the blind leading the blind.”

I shrugged. “Yeah, but I’m not going to jump into whips and chains with someone I’ve just met.”

Scott was quiet for a long moment. His eyebrows knitted together as he stared at the terrace floor. Then, without looking up, he said, “Do you trust me?” His serious tone stopped a smartass retort of “as far as I can throw you” at the tip of my tongue.

I took a breath. “Of course I do.”

He fell silent again, chewing his lip before turning to me. “What if I said I could introduce you to the lifestyle?”

“You mean…”

“Take you under my wing. Give you a safe environment, ease you into it, and help you figure out if kink is something you really want to do.”

“Are you—” I paused. “Are you serious?”

“Absolutely.” He moistened his lips and looked me in the eye. “Maybe I’m being a bit forward, but the fact is, I know my way around this lifestyle. I know you, and we trust each other. If anyone can guide you, you’re looking at him.”

I swallowed. I was dreaming. I had to be.

He cocked his head slightly. “Unless you’re not comfortable—”

“No, no, it’s not that.”
Far from it, Mr. Moore
. “Just, you know, caught me by surprise.”

He laughed softly. “You know me. Full of surprises.” His expression turned serious again. “I mean it, Krissy. Really. Maybe it’s the Dom in me wanting to be in control, but if you’re going to get your feet wet with this, I’d rather be the one helping you. At least then I know someone else isn’t fucking the experience up or taking advantage of you. Not that I think another Dom would fuck you over or hurt you. The vast majority wouldn’t dream of such a thing.” He paused. I thought he shuddered, but couldn’t be sure. Then he added, barely whispering, “There are bad apples out there, though.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Bad experience?”

“I’ve—” He cleared his throat. “I’ve known a few people who’ve had bad experiences, yes. And a bad experience with a Dom can be enough to scare someone out of the lifestyle completely.”

“I can imagine.”

“So, that’s why I’m suggesting this. I don’t want any of that happening to you. You need to have a safe, trustworthy partner, especially since this lifestyle is all about pushing boundaries.” He smiled. “And if I may be so bold, I have a feeling
someone
has some boundaries that could use pushing.”

“You would be right.”

The smile turned to a grin that weakened my knees. “So, you in?”

“I don’t know.” I folded my arms across my chest. “I might need you to beg, plead, and give me puppy dog eyes first.”

He released a sharp breath and eyed me. “I’m a Dom, sweetheart. If anyone’s going to beg, plead, or give puppy dog eyes, it’s
you
.”

I laughed. “You only go Dom, then?”

“Yes. If you’re inclined, I can help you find a sub, but I do not switch.”

“Is that common? To choose one or the other?”

“A lot of people are one or the other. Plenty of people switch, though. Being a sub just isn’t my thing.”

“I think I can handle starting out as a sub.”

He grinned. “I have a hunch, if I know you as well as I do, you’ll be a switch.”

“How do you figure?”

“Call it a gut feeling.”

I shot him a playful glare. “You seem to have a lot of gut feelings about me when it comes to this stuff.”

The grin broadened. “Maybe I do.”

“Which leads me to believe you’ve thought about this before.”

“Maybe I have.”

“Hmm, so now I have a gut feeling,” I said, trying not to laugh, “that this arrangement wouldn’t be entirely one-sided.”

“Are you suggesting I’m offering because I think I have something to gain?”

“I am.”

He gave a flippant shrug with one shoulder. “Would you be offended if I said I absolutely would be getting something out of it?”

“Not in the least.” Then I dropped my gaze, searching for the words to one of the most awkward questions I’d ever thought to ask him.

“What’s on your mind?” he asked.

I finally managed to meet his eyes. “So how far do we take this? You said yourself you have sexual relationships with all of your subs.”

“Yes, I do.” His cheeks flushed with just a hint of color. “If you’re not comfortable taking it that far, we don’t have to. There’s still plenty we can do without ever having sex.”

Ignoring the way my stomach fluttered with nerves, I said, “And if I
am
comfortable taking it that far?”

He sucked in a breath. “Well,” he hesitated, “you wouldn’t have to twist my arm.” He offered a cautious smile.

Be still, my beating heart
. “The polyamory thing isn’t my cup of tea, though,” I said. “I’m fine with something physical, but that…”

He made a dismissive gesture. “Don’t worry about that. Polyamory isn’t for everyone. We can keep it just physical.”

“I think I can live with that.”

Scott gave me a cocky grin. “Do we have a deal, then?”

“You’re very direct, you know that?”

“What do you expect?”

“I would expect no less.” I rested my hip against the railing and my elbow on top of it, and faced him. “And yes, we have a deal.”

“Good. Like I said, though, if you want to try being a Domme, I’ll help you find someone. And I can teach you to top, it just won’t be with me.”

“Assuming I don’t have my hands full with you.”

“Which you will,” he said matter-of-factly. “I should warn you up front, I am very, very slow when it comes to training a new sub or teaching someone about the lifestyle. I always err on the side of moving too slowly.”

“I could think of worse things.”

“Well, there’s also the fact that I enjoy teasing my new subs.” He winked. “Prepare to be very, very frustrated at first.”

“Knowing you, that doesn’t surprise me in the least.”

“Just wait, my dear,” he said. “You have yet to see my deepest depths of evil.”

“I can’t wait.”

He grinned. Then something like shyness tempered the devilishness in his expression. “And I promise, this isn’t just some cheap ploy to get you into bed.”

“Well, even if it is, it’s working.”

Scott swallowed hard. I did the same, my own boldness catching me by surprise. We were both silent for a moment.

“So,” I said quietly, “when do we start?”

“Do you have plans tomorrow night?”

“No, I don’t.”
We’re really going to do this
. “Want to come over?”

“Hell, yeah.” He smiled. “We’ll go over some rules and things like that when I get there. Like I said, we’re going to move very slowly, so don’t expect the full-on, no holds barred kink experience the first night. Some Doms work that way. I do not.”

“Bring it on.” I smiled in spite of the tremor that went through me.
I’m going to do this. I’m going to fuck Scott. Oh God, yes, I’m going to fuck Scott Moore
.

He pushed himself off the railing and landed with catlike grace. Breathing suddenly got a hell of a lot more complicated. We’d stood this close and closer over the years, but never like this. Never after all but sealing a deal to fulfill some of my hottest fantasies.

“I suppose,” he whispered, putting a hand on my waist, “we should start out slow.”

“You’re the Dom.” My voice shook. “I’ll follow your lead.”

He grinned. “You’re a fast learner, Krissy.” The hand on my waist moved to the small of my back, narrowing the space between us and raising goose bumps on my skin. “What I was thinking, though, is that it wouldn’t be right to fuck you…” He tilted his head, slowly leaning in. “…when I’ve never even kissed you.”

My knees trembled. “Maybe we should take care of that.”

“Maybe we should.” He stopped with his face just inches from mine. When he spoke again, the feather light touch of his breath to my skin nearly melted my spine. “I really want to kiss you right now, Kristen.”

Words failed me. All I managed was a subtle nod, even as my mind screamed,
Yes, yes, kiss me
.

He ran the tip of his tongue across his lower lip. “Do you want me to kiss you?”

“Yes.” The word barely escaped my throat. “Yes, I do.”

“I thought so. And I will.” All at once, he released me and stepped back, a sly grin curling his lips. “But not now.”

“What?” I grabbed the railing for balance and stared at him, my lips tingling with the anticipation of the kiss that hadn’t come. “Not now?”

He grinned. “Not now.”

“When?”

“When I decide it’s time.” He winked. “Consider this your first lesson as a sub. I’m the Dom. I make the rules.” Before I could protest, he gestured at the door. “Come on, everyone’s probably wondering where the hell we are.”

“You’re an evil, evil man, Scott.”

“And I’m going to teach you my evil, evil ways.” Again he gestured at the door. “Ladies first.”

The next night, Scott arrived at a little past seven.

A million second thoughts ran through my head as I turned the deadbolt, but they evaporated as soon as the door was open. His eyes were intense as always, and tonight they burned with something I’d never seen before. At least, something I’d never seen directed at
me
. I’d always hoped he’d someday want me, and tonight, if his eyes were to be believed, he’d have me.

I stood aside to let him in. When the door was shut and locked, the air was taut with a sense of finality. We were here. Sealed in, confined, committed to venturing onto this untrod ground.

He shrugged his jacket off and handed it to me. “You haven’t chickened out on me, have you?” His tone was playful, but the slightest crease between his eyebrows suggested he wasn’t just teasing.

“Of course not.” I glanced over my shoulder as I hung up his jacket. “Why? Have you?”

“Me?” He snorted. “Please. Besides, I’m here, aren’t I?”

“You’re here, but we’re both still dressed.” I grinned. “Still plenty of time for you to get cold feet.”

One eyebrow rose. “Getting mouthy already, are we?”

“Maybe I am.”

He came a little closer, invading just enough of my space to make a step back almost unavoidable. “Looks like I’m going to have my work cut out for me.”

“Then maybe we should get started.” I hoped my grin hid my nerves as I sidestepped him and started toward the kitchen. “Do you want something to drink first?”

“Sure, thanks.” He followed me into the kitchen.

“Wine?”

“Please.”

As I opened the bottle, he raised an eyebrow.

“You haven’t had anything else to drink tonight, I hope?” he said.

“No, I haven’t.” I poured two small glasses of red wine. I handed one to him and added, “Before you ask, no, I’m not doing it to get up the nerve to go through with this.”

He chuckled, swirling his glass but not taking a drink. Seriousness bordering on sternness lined his face. “A little alcohol is probably okay at this point. It’s usually not recommended to drink at all. Not even a little.” Then his expression relaxed. “But a little bit of wine won’t hurt anything. Especially with as easy as we’re starting out.”

“So you’re not going to try to get me drunk first?” I sipped my wine.

“Absolutely not.” He still didn’t drink.

I gestured at him with my glass. “I have to be honest, I thought you’d be dressed a bit differently.”

He looked down at his plain white button up shirt and black jeans. “What were you expecting?”

“I don’t know. Leather and chains, I guess. Something like that.” I caught myself wondering, though, if his slick black leather belt served a dual purpose.

Scott laughed. “You expected me to be dressed like a Dom?”

“Basically.”

“Well, as hot as my ass looks in leather pants,” he said, chuckling, “they’re uncomfortable as hell. I work up enough of a sweat doing this without being shrink-wrapped in leather.”

A sweaty, leather clad Scott walked through my mind, and I shivered.

Clearing my throat, I said, “So it’s just an aversion to leather pants?”

“Oh, not really. They’re not the most comfortable thing in the world, but more than that, I don’t want to look like a Dom.”

“You don’t?”

He shook his head. “No. I want you to submit to
me
, not the image of a Dom.”

I didn’t know just what to say to that. I did know, however, that the idea of submitting to Scott, in leather or not, made my mouth water.

He lifted his wine, but stopped it just shy of his lips and set it down again. “So let’s talk rules.” He ran a fingertip up and down the stem of the glass. “Do you have any hard limits? Anything that’s absolutely out of the question for you?”

“Not that I can think of. I don’t know enough about what we’re doing to know what I absolutely wouldn’t like.”

“Just in general. Anything sexual that you don’t like? Swallowing? Anal?”

“Anal,” I said. “Definitely not my thing.”

“Noted. Anything else? Do you have any issues with someone touching your feet or your neck, for example?”

“Not that I know of.”

He nodded. “Okay, good. If you think of anything, don’t hesitate to tell me. I’m all for pushing your limits, but I’m not in this to hurt you or scare you. Understood?”

“Understood.”

“I do have one hard limit of my own,” he said. “I won’t choke you.”

I laughed. “That’s quite considerate of you.”

He smiled and shrugged. “Well, you’d be surprised. I’ve had a few subs who wanted to be choked. Some to the point of unconsciousness.” He shook his head and swirled his otherwise untouched wine again. “I might put a hand on your throat to restrain you, if you’re comfortable with that, but anything that cuts off blood or air flow? No way.”

“I don’t think that’ll be a problem.”

“Now, the rest of the rules.” The sharp clink of his glass on the counter made me jump for some reason. Maybe I was more nervous about this than I thought.

I swallowed. “Okay, the rest of the rules.”

“Do you know how safe words work?”

I nodded.

“Good. Some people use one. I use two.” He folded his arms across his chest and rested his hip against the counter. “The word ‘red’ stops everything immediately. No questions asked. If something’s getting to be too much, but you don’t want to stop completely, say ‘yellow’ and I’ll back off.” His eyebrows lifted slightly. “Make sense?”

Another nod.

“I think that about covers it. Questions?”

“Not yet.”

“Then why don’t we go in the bedroom?” He smiled. “There are a few more rules, but I’ll explain those as we go. Are you still comfortable with this?”

“I think so.”

He cocked his head. “You think so?”

“I am, I am. Just, you know, a little nervous.”

“Nothing to be nervous about tonight. Trust me, when I told you we were going to move slowly, I wasn’t kidding.” He picked up his wine glass. “Do you mind if I drink this in there?”

“No, of course not.”

He followed me into the bedroom. When the door clicked shut behind him, a mixture of fear and lust surged through my veins.
We’re really doing this
.

There was a chair beside my window, and Scott took a seat, casually crossing his legs and cradling his wine glass between his fingers. He gestured at the window. “Should we close the shade?”

“Leave it open.”

His eyes flicked toward me.

I just grinned. “Don’t worry about it.”

Glancing out the window, he said, “Not concerned about your neighbor seeing this?”

“Nope.”
In fact, I hope he does
.

When he looked at me again, he cocked his head, and I wondered if he saw right through me.

With a nervous laugh, I said, “You don’t mind someone seeing us, do you?”

“Not at all.” He paused, wetting his lips. “I take it you don’t mind either?” I shook my head. He glanced out the window again, murmuring something that may have been “duly noted.”

“So,” I said, “what do you want me to do?”

“Nothing yet.” Scott sat back in the chair with one elbow on the armrest. “Stay right there for now.” For the first time, he sipped his wine, then set the glass on the sill. My heart thundered in my chest as I waited for him to speak. His long fingers fascinated me as he unbuttoned the cuff of one sleeve and rolled it to just below his elbow. Then he did the same to the other sleeve. And still, he didn’t speak.

He reached for his wine, raised it to his lips, and took another sip. When the glass clinked on the sill again, he looked at me, and something in his expression had changed. The temperature in the room dropped as our eyes met.

“From this point on,” he said, “until I say otherwise or a safe word is spoken, I am your Master and you are my submissive.” Every word had an edge, a terse sharpness, and this abrupt shift in his demeanor gave me goose bumps. “Every question is to be answered quickly and honestly. You will only speak when you are asked to do so, and whenever you do, you will refer to me as ‘Sir’. Am I understood?”

I swallowed. “Yes.”

His eyebrow lifted.

I cleared my throat. “Yes, Sir.”

“Good.” He laced his fingers together on top of his knee. “Nothing happens without my express permission or my order. You won’t touch me, move, speak, anything, unless I allow or demand it. Clear?”

“Yes, Sir.”

He smiled. The half-nod that followed sent a warm rush of relief through me. Only seconds into this, and already his approval or lack thereof made me react physically.

“You won’t touch me,” he said. “But the same rule does not apply to me. As my submissive, you’ve given me permission to touch you any way I see fit. Have you consented to this?”

“Yes, Sir.” Already, those two words slipped so easily off my tongue.

Movement caught my attention and my eyes darted toward the window. Before I could see if Matt was there, Scott snapped his fingers. I jumped, and when our eyes met, his narrowed.

“Look at me, not out there,” he growled. “Or I’ll close the shade.”

I nodded. “I’m sorry, Sir.”

“What are your safe words?”

“Red and yellow, Sir.”

“And what do they each mean?”

“Red if I want to stop completely, yellow if I want to back off.” Another upward flick of his eyebrow prompted me to add, “Sir.”

“Good.” He gave a slow nod. “Unbutton your shirt.”

My heart raced. Excitement? Nerves? Both?

“Was I unclear?” he asked.

“No, Sir.”

“Then…?”

My face burned and my hands shook, but I did as he ordered. With every button, arousal and uncertainty fought for dominance. When the first button opened, my nerves tingled with anticipation. The second exposed the first hint of cleavage, and I wondered if I really was comfortable disrobing in front of Scott. The third let cool air touch between my breasts, and my nipples hardened beneath my bra. Oh yes, I wanted this.

When my shirt was completely unbuttoned, I started to shrug it off.

“Wait.”

I froze and looked at him.

“Did I tell you to take it off?”

“No, Sir.” I tugged it back into place.

“What is the rule about moving or doing anything?”

“Not without your command or permission, Sir.”

“Good. Now take it off.”

Once my shirt was off, I nearly set it on the bed to get it out of the way, but waited, remembering his orders.

“Put it on the bed.”

I did as I was told, swallowing hard as the sense of exposure sank in. Matt had certainly seen this much and more but Scott hadn’t. Assuming Matt was watching, I wondered what he thought about this, about me slowly undressing in front of someone sitting casually by the window.

The distance between Scott and me didn’t help my nerves. Had he been close to me, running his hands all over my bare skin, his eyes closed as he occupied himself with a long kiss, it would be different. But he was several feet away, fully dressed and looking at me. Under only his watchful eye and not his touch, I’d never been so exposed.

“Are you doing okay?” With the gentleness in his voice, the veil lifted and for a moment, he was just Scott.

“I’m okay, yes.”

He cleared his throat. Sir was back.

“I’m fine, Sir,” I said quickly.

“Good.” He rose in one smooth, controlled motion, and started toward me. My heart beat faster as he approached. I willed myself to keep breathing while I waited for him to decide what happened next.

Without speaking, he walked around me, stopping just beyond the reach of my peripheral vision. I silently begged him to touch me. A fingertip on my skin, a hand on my waist,
something
, but he denied me.

“Take off your bra.”

My shaking hands immediately obeyed in spite of the thoughts running through my mind. My heart pounded and my stomach fluttered with nerves. This vulnerability scared and thrilled me as much as his voice compelled me, and after a few seconds of struggling, my bra went slack.

“Turn around.”

I did, keeping my eyes down as I faced him. My bra slid down my arms and I caught it with a crooked finger, but I didn’t know if I should drop it or hold it. All I could do was await his command.

“Give it to me.”

I extended my hand, all the while wondering where he was looking. At my breasts? At my downturned eyes? At the black satin and lace hanging off my outstretched fingers? When he reached for my bra, I held my breath, hoping he’d grant me just the slightest brush of skin on skin when he took it from my hand.

And once again, he denied me, taking the strap between two fingers and freeing it from my hand without touching me.