Kate smiled and shook his hand with the calm assurance of a businesswoman. “It would take quite the man. It was a pleasure.”

After a mock salute, Trev headed out the door.

Kate lowered herself primly back into her chair, still bristling.

“Well, that went . . .”

“Terribly? Sorry, but that guy is a total jackass.”

Banner grimaced and turned toward her. “Part of that was you, Kate. You’d hardly exchanged two words, and you were already challenging him. I’m not saying Trev handled that well at all. He was an idiot, but you need to own the parts that were yours.” He narrowed his eyes at her speculatively.

Kate’s mouth opened and closed a few times, her glare communicating the words that seemed reluctant to come. Finally, she shut her mouth and pulled her gaze from his. She’d gone from defensive to embarrassed in the span of a minute.

“I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I know what I want—at least partially. But when a guy says he wants to control me, it makes me want to fight. Growing up nowadays, girls are told that submitting to a man is wrong and bad, and that they’re supposed to be strong and independent. No one respects a woman that gives up her power to a man, at least not in the vanilla world.”

Banner sighed and smiled grimly when she looked at him again. “I get what you’re saying, but that’s something you’re going to have to work through if you want to be a submissive. It’s not an easy road for someone that’s fiercely independent, but you have to curb your fight-or-flight impulses around Doms or you’re going to scare them all off. BDSM power exchange is consensual. That’s the point. Most Doms won’t try to fight you for it.”

Her pretty green eyes were troubled, and it bothered him that this wasn’t something he could fix for her. As he watched her silent struggle, she slowly seemed to become aware of his focus.

“What?”

“Shh. I’m reading your mind.”

Kate laughed and playfully smacked his arm. Deep down inside, an answering growl tried to respond, but he shoved it away.

Think vanilla thoughts.

“I don’t have to read your mind to figure out what you’re thinking. You wouldn’t normally let a girl get away with hitting you, am I right?”

“Not if she was my girl.”

Her eyes went round and shone. “What would you do?”

Banner leaned in closer and whispered. “Punish her to remind her of her place.”

With interest, he watched as her breathing became deep, hypnotic. Imagining something interesting just from a small cue? Her submission was there, running just below the surface, so close that he was certain he could draw it out without much effort. He had the strong temptation to test his theory.

Kate blinked several times, came back to herself, and took a sip of her tea. “I think I need to decide what I want before I talk to another one of your Dom friends.”

She’d snapped back to business mode so fast that if he hadn’t seen it himself, he might have doubted whether she’d respond to dominance at all.

“We should go over a BDSM checklist to nail that down, then. Do you want my help with that, or do you want me to e-mail you one?”

Worrying at her bottom lip, she looked lost again. All of his protective instincts and his need for control warred with the knowledge that she wasn’t his to direct.

“Why don’t I bring one by this week so you can ask questions if you’re confused? That is, if you’re comfortable with me.”

She nodded slowly. “That would be good. And if you could give me some pointers on how not to run Doms off, that would be good too.”

“I’ll see what I can do,” he started, then gave her a mock-stern look, “but you have to cooperate or it won’t work.”

Her eyes narrowed with mischief. “Yes, Sir.”

It was hard not to laugh, even if she was being cheeky.

“I’m starting to think you’re going to have a hard time being a good girl for anyone.”

She leaned closer, and her scent made him crazy. “Who’s going to make me be good?”

You have no idea what I’d like to do to you, bad girl.

He tried his best to look indifferent. “That’ll be up to whoever you choose. If you’re worried you won’t be able to mind your manners long enough, I could help you remember.”

“You think you could teach me to behave? I don’t know.” She arched her back, which made his gaze go directly to her cleavage. “You seem too nice. I’d probably walk all over you, and the next thing you knew, you’d be begging to be my slave.”

Sassy girl. She needed a few of his handprints on her ass.

“I could teach you to behave, Trouble,” he growled.

Bravado apparently forgotten, Kate ducked her head, but not before he saw the pink in her cheeks.

And not before he’d needed to fight the urge to kiss her pretty mouth.

Chapter 3

“You were a bad girl,” the man with the baritone voice said.

Her knees trembled as she took a step backward.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

She looked left then right. How had they ended up in a concrete, windowless room with no door? A bed appeared behind her. The backs of her legs rubbed against it.

She gulped. Trapped.

“Bend over the bed, little slave.”

The command in his voice made it hard not to comply. Shaking, she turned around and gazed down at the pristine white bedcovering. She could feel him move in behind her. His body brushed against her back, setting every nerve on fire. Chills raced up her spine. Her knees felt like buckling, but she stayed standing, hesitant to make herself more vulnerable to this stranger.

He shoved her, and she fell forward, landing on her stomach over the bed. Then she was naked. There was something wrong here.

She looked over her shoulder. He lifted his hand, showing her a big, peeled ginger root. His grin was unnerving.

Then she was in his head, watching her from his point of view. Her eyes went wide with fear. A whimper escaped her. She felt the adrenaline shoot through his veins.

He let out a deep, sinister laugh, and she hid her face in the covers. Fear warred with excitement. As creepy as it seemed, she wanted this.

Holding her down with his giant palm on her back, he placed the ginger root at her back entrance. A scream tore from her lips.

Kate woke with a start. Panting, she sat up and surveyed the room in a panic. What the fuck? Light blue walls, a familiar dresser across from the bed, and a flowered quilt covering her legs calmed her pounding heart. She was home. No dungeon, no evil laughter, and no figging.

“Fuck,” she mumbled. Her breathing slowed. She checked the clock beside her bed. Five o’clock in the evening. Only an hour ago she’d laid down for a nap, trying to get rid of a migraine. She must’ve really needed it.

She took in other details now that she’d calmed down. Daylight was fading. Her stomach was empty and starting to growl. But more disturbing was the stirring the dream had left between her legs. It’d been a long time since she’d used her vibe. Her panties were wet and her clit throbbed. From the figging dream?

Ugh. There was something wrong with her. She groaned. Banner would be there in half an hour, and she still needed to get dressed and should probably shower this dirty feeling away. She squeezed her thighs together, trying to soothe herself. It only made it worse.

With a sigh, she checked the clock again. If she used her fingers, instead of searching for the vibrator, she could probably go pretty quickly.

She snaked her hand down her belly then underneath her cotton panties. For her, orgasms were more about the mind than anything physical, and Banner had given her imagination plenty of fodder.