Was it the lying, or the food, or was it the potential she represented that set him on edge?

When the bell finally rang, he was staring at his phone, waiting for a “sorry, I’m not showing up” text, even though she wasn’t late. God, this was going to be a mess.

This date thing was too formal. He didn’t do formal.

By the time he got to the door he was almost gasping for breath. What the hell? Maybe she’d think he was working out instead of having a panic attack. But who worked out in jeans and a T-shirt and right before a date?

He swung open the door, and there was Everly, wavy brown and purple hair tumbling around her shoulders, curves that would make a lesser man faint, and one brow arched elegantly over her lovely amber eyes.

“When you said you were house-sitting, I assumed you meant at a house, not a mansion.” She looked around the foyer as he stepped back to let her in, and whistled. “So your buddy from school, he’s loaded? You neglected to mention that.”

Ambrose shrugged. If she hated wealth as much as she seemed to, he was in deep shit. He was planning on telling her the whole truth as soon as she was sold on him, as a person. For goodness’ sake, he’d grown up poor. It wasn’t like he’d been born with a silver spoon in his mouth. But still, lying to her made him feel like an ass. She deserved to know the truth, but he couldn’t figure out how to tell her without ruining everything. Especially after running away the other night.

“I didn’t think it was important.”

He took her coat and hung it on the banister, then led the way into the kitchen.

“Holy shit.” Everly turned in a circle, taking in the great room. Hopefully she wouldn’t notice the way it made him wince. “Some of this artwork alone could keep the no-freeze shelter open for months.” She went to inspect the paintings that graced the room.

It was difficult not to preen with borrowed pride, considering three of the pieces were Banner’s art, and one was Rook’s. Now, if Ambrose bought himself a Spirograph or something he might be in business, but unless the art was food-related, he was hopeless.

“They were gifts from our friend Banner and his little brother.”

“Are all of your friends rich?”

“Pretty much. Banner and Rook did the paintings themselves though.”

She grimaced. “Wow. So awkward that you’re the only one in your friend group who didn’t make it big. Does it bother you?”

Ambrose bit his lips together and tried to look thoughtful, even though dread was trying to take over. Fuck! Three minutes into this date, and things were already falling apart.

“No. They’re all self-made men. Envying someone else’s hard work and luck is pointless.” He walked into the kitchen area, trying to think of a way to change the subject. When she eventually found out about him, hopefully she would have forgotten this conversation. “Besides, I get to use their stuff.” Maybe he should just come clean now, but he wasn’t ready for her to storm out of his life. Yeah, maybe he was chickenshit, but if he just waited a little while longer, she might like him enough to accept him. Right?

He pulled out the ingredients for dinner.

“What are you making?” She was at his elbow, watching what he was doing

“Food. I was planning on doing steak with some side dishes.” He paused. “I forgot to ask. Are you a vegetarian?”

“Is bacon a vegetable?” Everly laughed. “No, you’re safe. I have no qualms about having meat in my mouth.” She glanced at him slyly, and he couldn’t help dropping his gaze to her lips.

Fuck, she gave good head.

“Behave, woman,” he growled teasingly. “You wanted a date, so this is a date. If you wanted me to shove you to your knees and use your naughty mouth, you just had to ask.”

She glared and opened her mouth in mock offense, and he couldn’t resist putting his finger in. Instead of smacking him, as he’d expected, she latched onto his finger, sucking, then nibbling on his fingertip. His cock awoke and clamored for the same treatment.

“Do you need corner time again?”

Everly stepped back, letting his finger slide free from her sexy mouth. “But, Sir, I assumed that was what you wanted me to do. Did I do it wrong?”

Fuck, that was true. She threw him off his game so easily sometimes. “No, you did it too well.”

“Well, then, Sir”—she grinned up at him—“I’ll do my very best to be . . . less pleasing.”

Ambrose had a full body urge to throw her on the counter and show her what happened to bratty little girls. Screaming orgasms, apparently. From a Dom perspective, he was sure that wasn’t right, but it was exactly what he wanted to do to her.

“What does that face mean?” She was holding back a laugh.

He pulled her close and kissed her gently. Without hesitation, she pressed against him, not balking when he deepened the kiss. They kissed for a few minutes, then he pulled her down onto the floor. They grappled, and she ended up on top of him, her legs straddling his in the perfect position to fuck. She rocked her hips, rubbing her pussy against his hard-on, through their clothes. She nipped his bottom lip, and he spanked her ass and growled at her, then rolled her to her back, thrusting against her and frustrating himself in the process. When he stilled, she groaned and tried to coax him into moving again.

It took Herculean self-control to get to his feet and pull her up.

“But why?” she asked, pressing against him.

“Behave. First of all, you wanted a date, so you’re getting a damned date. I’m making dinner, and then we’re going to eat that dinner. We will have an interesting and meaningful conversation, so I can show you how fun and clever I am. Second, I have no intention of coming in my pants. I’m too old for that shit.”

Everly gave a sly laugh and dropped to her knees, then closed her teeth over the shaft of his dick, through his pants. Unable to resist, he grabbed her hair and let her play for a minute before dragging her back to her feet.

“Enough.” His voice croaked, but rather than looking amused, she seemed as horny as he felt.

“Please, Sir?”

He hesitated, wanting to do the right thing, but she was making it so . . . hard. “No.”

She groaned and rubbed against him. “Not even for a second?”

Enough. He spun her around and forced her down over the counter, then spanked the backs of her thighs until she danced from foot to foot. Even through her leggings and little skirt it had to sting.

“Ow, ow, ow!” She squealed and squirmed.

Ambrose had to force himself to stop. Horny sadists had to be careful not to go overboard.

Everly grimaced, which was adorable. He lifted her onto the counter and kissed her nose.

“Now you be a good girl and sit here while I cook dinner.”

“Cruel man.”

“You don’t know the half of it, princess.”

They stared at each other for a moment, and she lowered her gaze.

While she watched, he diced onion, chopped mushrooms, warmed frying pans.

“Who taught you to cook?”

Ambrose shrugged. “My parents, but they mostly bake now that my mom has her bakery. That’s where I got the bread.” He hoped that didn’t make his family sound too rich for Everly, but he was proud of how well his mother had done. The business was doing even better now that his father had retired and joined her. Four hands were better than two.

“Cool. It’s nice to hear about small businesses doing well with multinational corporations taking over everything.” She stretched out on the counter, like a cat. A collar with a bell would be adorable on her. She should also be naked.

He put the steak topping on simmer and tried to focus on making a side dish, instead of fantasizing about taking the scissors out of the drawer and cutting her clothes off. If they ever got into serious D/s, he’d keep her naked whenever possible.

“Can I help with anything?”