Maya Banks - Sweet Persuasion

“But I haven’t, I mean, I do see a doctor regularly, but I haven’t gotten tests . . .”

“I can arrange it with my physician at a moment’s notice,” he offered. “It’s important that you feel safe with me, and it is important that our good health is ascertained. I want to give you your fantasy, Serena, and I don’t want any ugliness to intrude.”

“I’ll phone my doctor tomorrow,” she said.

“Does this mean you’re agreeing?” Damon asked.

She took in a steadying breath as she stared at the handsome man sitting across from her. Yes, he was gorgeous. He was confident, wore arrogance like a cloak, and God, she loved arrogant, assured men, but he didn’t come across like an asshole. Was this man for real? Or was he just playing a role?

She wanted to find out so bad she could taste it.

She licked her lips and then nodded.

“I want to hear you say it,” he prompted.

“Yes. I agree.”

His smile was triumphant, and something dark and primitive flashed in his eyes. In that moment she imagined what it would be like to be his, and it filled her with a powerful longing.

“Have dinner with me this weekend,” he said. It wasn’t a request, and he seemed absolutely unapologetic that it was, in essence, a command. “That will give you time to see your doctor and think about me. And you. Us. Then we can meet to discuss the more intimate details of our arrangement.”

Just the way he said intimate made all her girly parts tingle. And then it hit her that she was going to become quite intimate with this man. All fantasy aside, he was offering to give her reality. With him.

She would see him naked. He’d touch her, have his hands and mouth on her body. She quivered from head to toe and her knees knocked together until she had to put her hand on one of her legs to stop it.

Food? Completely forgotten. She had no hope of eating lunch. Not when all she was imagining was how he’d taste. Scorching flames burnt her cheeks when she remembered just how descriptive her e-mail had been.

“And I thought Faith was the only woman left on earth who blushed so vividly,” he said in a tone tinged with amusement.

She groaned and closed her eyes. “I haven’t a prayer of keeping it together. You’ve completely and utterly knocked my feet out from under me.”

“As did you when I read your e-mail,” he said softly. “I cannot allow another man to take what I already consider mine.”

Her stomach clenched and a flush stole over her body. “You sound possessive already,” she said faintly.

“And that’s precisely the way you want me, is it not?”

She squirmed a bit under his scrutiny, but she wasn’t going to lie or pretend to be bashful, even if she was ready to crawl under the table. Nothing about her approach had been shy so far, and there wasn’t a need to start now.

“It is,” she admitted. “I want . . . I want to belong. To a man,” she added after a deep breath. “It sounds so crazy.”

“Stop,” he said with quiet authority. “I won’t allow you to degrade yourself for voicing your desires. They’re yours. That makes them important. Valid. There is nothing crazy about them.”

“It’s not just about possession.” She paused for a moment but was determined to go on, to explain what beat so incessantly at her. “I want the security of knowing I am . . . owned. Oh, but that’s such a terrible word and yet I can’t think of a better one. I want to be cherished, protected, pampered . . . valued. I want the man to know me as well as I know myself. I want him to anticipate my needs and fulfill them but at the same time I want to be important to him. I want him to be strong. Capable. Dominant without being an asshole. For just a little while, I want to be in his hands. To give myself into his care and keeping and be able to trust in him to shelter me, pleasure me and teach me how to please him.”

She suddenly felt so vulnerable, as if she’d exposed herself in the most brutal of ways. She felt naked, stripped bare by her own words.

“Look at me,” he said gently.

Her chin came up and she met his gaze.

“You don’t trust me yet, and you shouldn’t as we’ve only just met. But you will come to trust me, and when that happens, you’ll give yourself into my care and keeping. When you do that, I will give you what you most want. What you need. And I’m going to love every damn minute.”

J ulie scurried around her salon like a drunken salamander. Nathan was due for his massage in five minutes, and she was seriously reconsidering her mad seduction plan.

She stopped in front of one of the full-length mirrors and arranged her shirt for the tenth time. It was low-cut and cupped her breasts like a lover’s hands. Her cleavage was plumped up like two ripe melons and it threatened to strain right out of her neckline.

Perfect.

“Oh hell,” she muttered as she rearranged her shirt again. “I look like a whore on the make.”

Worse than that, she looked desperate.

With a glum look at her reflection, she sighed and turned away to get the oils ready. She’d chosen them especially for Nathan because all her other stuff was too girly. Nathan . . . mmmm, he was all rugged man. He needed something that wouldn’t make him smell too soft and flowery.

She pushed her cleavage up one more time before she headed into the massage room. A few times leaning over Nathan, a brush or two against him, maybe an accidental shove of her bosom into his face as she leaned across to get a towel.

Surely he couldn’t continue to ignore her. She just needed to be brave. More forceful. Own her sexuality. Yep, that was it. Faith had owned hers (and then some), and Serena was well on her way into sexual slavery.

She rolled her eyes and shook her head. Sexual slavery, for the love of all that’s holy. What possessed the woman? Not that the idea of Nathan tying her up and having his wicked way with her didn’t inspire some serious heavy breathing, but she had some wicked and wild fantasies and in half of them, Nathan was completely and utterly at her mercy.

A decadent smile curved her lips as her groin tightened and pulsed. Oh, hell yeah, did she have plans for one Nathan Tucker. He didn’t realize it yet, but he was going to be hers. And he’d never know what hit him.

Her business line rang, and she reached for it even as she surveyed the massage table to make sure everything was in place.

“Julie’s,” she sang out.

There was a slight pause. “Hey, Julie, this is Nathan Tucker.”

“Hi, Nathan, are you running late today?” Hell, even her voice came out all breathy like some sixteen-year-old crushing on some college guy.

“Uh, that’s why I’m calling. I can’t make it today.”

Her heart sank. “Oh. Well, okay.”

“Can we reschedule?” he asked.

“Uh, sure, let me just check my schedule.”

She walked over to the counter where her appointment book sat and rifled through the pages, though she knew every time slot by heart.

“When would you like to come in?” she asked.

There was another pause and she heard him talking in the background to someone else. And then she heard a very feminine voice float through the line. There was a light giggle and then, “Oh, I’ll give you a massage, Nathan. No need to pay someone else.”

She stood there feeling ten times a fool. She glanced down at her cleavage and laid a hand over her chest to shield the low-cut shirt.

“Stupid,” she muttered.

“What was that?” Nathan asked.

“Nothing. Did you want to reschedule or not?” she asked through gritted teeth.

“I’ll tell you what. Let me call you in a few days and we’ll set up a time then.”