serious you were, but we are
going to find out. I don’t want to go back into the
playroom yet, so we can try this now, but if you don’t like
it, you must promise to tell me.” A burning intensity born of
his anxiety replaces his earlier cockiness.
Whoa, please don’t be anxious, Christian. “I’ll tell
you. No safe word,” I reiterate to reassure him.
“We’re lovers, Anastasia. Lovers don’t need safe
words.” He frowns. “Do they?”
“I guess not,” I murmur. Jeez—how do I know? “I
promise.”
He searches my face for any clue that I might lack the
courage of my convictions, and I’m nervous but excited,
too. I’m much happier to do this, knowing that he loves
me. It’s very simple to me, and right now, I don’t want to
overthink it.
A slow smile stretches across his face, and he starts to
unbutton my shirt, his deft fingers making short work of it,
though he doesn’t take it off. He leans over and picks up
the cue.
Oh fuck, what’s he going to do with that ? A frisson
of fear runs through me.
“You play well, Miss Steele. I must say I’m surprised.
Why don’t you sink the black?”
My fear forgotten, I pout, wondering why the hell he
should be surprised—sexy, arrogant bastard. My inner
goddess is limbering up in the background, doing her floor
exercises—a great fat smile on her face.
exercises—a great fat smile on her face.
I position the white ball. Christian strolls back around
the table and stands right behind me as I lean over to take
my shot. He places his hand on my right thigh and runs his
fingers up and down my leg, up to my behind and back
again, lightly stroking me.
“I am going to miss if you keep doing that,” I whisper,
closing my eyes and relishing the feel of his hands on me.
“I don’t care if you hit or miss, baby. I just wanted to
see you like this—partially dressed, stretched out on my
billiard table. Do you ha一ve any idea how hot you look at
the moment?”
I flush, and my inner goddess grabs a rose between her
teeth and starts to tango. Taking a deep breath, I try to
ignore h
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