“Well, how come you don’t have to give me your checklist? Knowing you know all that stuff about me now is embarrassing.”

“Don’t be embarrassed, Trouble. Our kinks line up a little too well, so don’t worry about me judging you. In the kink community, people are very accepting, even if you’re into things they aren’t.”

“Your kink is not my kink, but your kink is okay?”

“Exactly. See, you know things.”

“Well, Janine tells me things, and I tend to remember the parts that sound important.” She sat in the chair next to his, staring at the blank television screen. “I still can’t believe I actually showed up today. I’ve been trying to psych myself up all week, but in the back of my mind I thought I’d chicken out.”

Fear he understood. Some of his underlying tension melted away. Her eyes were still hidden mostly by hair, so he tucked a lock of it behind her ear. “So what made you get in your car and come over?”

“I told myself I was going to the gym until I was sitting in your driveway. Ringing the doorbell was one of the hardest things I’ve done in my life.”

“I respect that this is a struggle for you. It’s impressive that you came anyway. Hopefully it’ll help you answer some questions about yourself, if nothing else.” He flipped through her questionnaire again briefly then laid the papers aside. “This gives me enough information to work with for now. Do you have a safeword in mind?”

“I thought Masters didn’t do safewords.”

“I do. I watch carefully, too, though. With most people you can tell when they’re getting close to their limit. It’s never my intention to hurt someone past what they can bear. Leaving emotional scars isn’t one of my kinks.” He was a safe, sane, and consensual guy when it came to BDSM, but he knew some people who weren’t. They were generally the asshats who gave BDSM a bad name. Banner drummed his fingers on the arm of his chair once before he caught himself. A strong desire to move things along was making him impatient, but rushing her wouldn’t be fair. “Besides, you haven’t agreed to be my slave. But even if you did, with me you get a safeword.”

Shit. Had he really just implied she might agree to be his slave at some point? It was as though he’d left a huge yet hanging over them. Nothing like making the girl uncomfortable by laying his cards on the table.

“If I was eager to try being a slave, what would you do?”

He smiled, wondering if his metaphorical fangs were evident. “We would need to have a long discussion about what that meant to both of us, and we’d have to see whether we were suitable for each other.”

“So BDSM is all consensual, then?” Her eyebrows rose, as if she didn’t believe it.

“In the mainstream BDSM community, yes. It may not always feel that way to the slave, but in reality the option to walk away is always there.” He let some of the darkness within him show in his expression. “Of course there are people who live on the fringes of BDSM who blur the lines.”

“Do you blur the lines?”

Deliberately he paused, enjoying the hint of apprehension he saw in her face. Being a bastard was fun, but since she didn’t know him well, he wasn’t sure how seriously she’d take it.

“No. My slaves are free to leave me if that’s what they want.” The last few hadn’t really been slaves anyway, which had been frustrating for both parties.

“Have a lot of slaves chosen to leave you?”

“In the past few years I’ve ended relationships with a few women who told me they were slaves, but were actually submissives who thought slavery sounded dangerous and exciting. The reality wasn’t something they adjusted to very well.” Being asked to submit outside of the bedroom hadn’t gone over well. His old frustrations welled up, but dwelling on how difficult it was to find someone to suit him, someone who wanted what he wanted, didn’t fix the problem.

She turned to look at him, her eyes round. “So you’re strict?”

“Very.”

“Are you going to punish me a lot?” She wet her lips.

He could almost feel the smooth wooden handle of the tawse in his hand. Fuck. When he was around this girl his imagination was like live-streaming porn.

“That depends on if you’re a good girl or a bad girl.”

A small whimper escaped her, and the sound went straight to his groin.

“Do you like pain, Kate, or is it the idea of being punished?”

She took refuge in silence. Fair enough. She might not know yet.

“Should my safeword be long, so there’s no confusion?” Kate finally asked.

“It should be short and easy to remember. Something most people wouldn’t say in context.”

“Wombat?”

Banner chuckled. “Wombat? Will you remember that?”

“Yes, will you?”

“If you say any odd words while you’re with me, I’ll make sure you’re okay. I’ve had partners forget their safewords before and yell things like ‘tuna’ ‘cardigan’ ‘matchbox’ ‘ukulele.’ It gets the point across even if you don’t hit the right word.”

She laughed, a true, beautiful sound that thrilled the ear.

“Are you ready to start?”

“Yes, Sir.”

He quelled a shudder.

“Call me Banner for now, okay? You’re not mine, and every time you call me that it makes me a little crazy.”

“Crazy how?” Her lips parted, and he wished he could show her just how crazy.

“For a moment I forget you’re not mine, and I don’t think you want that.”

Kate nervously licked her dry lips. “Okay . . . Banner.” From her mouth, his name sounded oddly like a not-so-subtle Sir.

He threw a blanket on the floor in front of him. “Kneel there. We’ll see what you need to work on in terms of posture.”

Without hesitation, she folded herself into an attractive kneel on the small blanket. Her affect was a mixture of pride and self-consciousness. The graceful line of her neck begged for a collar.

“Good. Most Dominants will prefer you to kneel with your knees open and your hands turned upward on your thighs.”

“What do you prefer?”

“Knees open, unless there’s company. Hands palms down on the submissive’s thighs. I find it more aesthetically pleasing.”

Kate gathered her hair and put it behind her shoulder, then spread her knees and placed her hands palms down on her legs. The tilt of her head was challenging, so he took gentle hold of her jaw and waited until she went docile. Unable to resist, he let his fingertips brush her cheek before withdrawing his hand.

She blinked rapidly for a moment, then went very still. Her green eyes became soft and bottomless for a moment before regaining their usual alertness.

“Why did you hold my face like that?”

“You looked like you were challenging me. Some Doms love that, but many don’t. You have to learn what your Dom will tolerate and work within those limits.” He rhythmically rubbed a thumb over her chin, just to see if it would work again. Kate’s eyes went dreamy and she relaxed into the pose. It was like a magic button. He smiled. “Likewise, if a Dominant cares deeply for you, he might adjust what he expects from you in small ways.”

He slid his hand down to caress the side of her neck. The scoop neckline of her T-shirt tempted him to trace a finger over her collar bone. Her eyes fluttered shut, and her breathing slowed. A small shiver took her, and the peace in her expression arrested his attention.

“You look very calm, Kate,” he whispered, dragging the tip of his finger over the softness of her exposed flesh. “Do you like how this feels?”

“Yes, Banner,” she breathed.

“When you talk to Doms, you have to try to remember this feeling. This is what you want from them. If you stay focused on this headspace, you might find yourself less tempted to scare them off.”

The spell broke, and her eyelids snapped open. Her glare was eloquent. “So I always need to walk around feeling all dopey and stupid? If a Dom wants that from me, he needs to work for it. I’m not just going to automatically become a mindless sex doll every time a Dom ambles by, on the off chance he can get me into that headspace.”