She tried her best not to dwell on the kiss. After all, what was one kiss? She’d been kissed hundreds of times. What was it about his that should make it so special? Was it because it was the first she’d had after Peter?

Deep down she knew better.

Even if she told herself that and believed it for the shortest moment, twice a day, her body proved her wrong. After she inserted the horrible plug, she’d situate herself on her back, reclining in her bed. Her eyes would close and as she relaxed, she’d let her knees fall apart. And though each time the fantasy was different with regard to what they did, one thing was consistent—when she arched her back and panted with the pleasure of release, the only thought in her mind was Cole Johnson.

She decided to leave that part out of her journal.

On Saturday afternoon, he met her at the shop as she and Julie were closing.

“Afternoon, ladies,” he said, looking devilishly handsome in a worn pair of khakis and a blue T-shirt that emphasized his biceps and brought out the blue hues in his eyes.

“Hey, Cole.” Julie picked up her purse and dug through it, pulling out her keys. “You two off to somewhere fun?”

He hadn’t told her where they were going, only that he would pick her up at closing. Deciding to tease him a bit, Sasha looked up at him. “I don’t know, he hasn’t told me where we’re going. Are you taking me somewhere fun?”

His eyes traveled over her and instead of answering he replied with, “Sasha, you look lovely. I don’t think I’ve seen you in a dress before.”

“Thank you.” She’d spent an inordinate amount of time trying to find something to wear and had pulled the dress from the back of her closet.

Julie snorted, but thankfully didn’t say anything about how rare it was for her to wear a dress. “Bye, guys,” she said and headed out.

Cole stood by Sasha’s side while she locked up and then led her to his waiting car.

“Today,” he said, opening the passenger side door for her, “I’m taking you to do one of my favorite things.”

Her mind raced, trying to imagine the possibilities. He didn’t say anything else as they drove out of the historic district. She tried to think of possibilities for his favorite things, but she was at a loss and didn’t even know where to start.

Now, one of her favorite things had to be kissing him, even after just their one kiss. But she doubted they were going to do that. Especially since he made an ordeal about it not happening again.

She watched him from the corner of her eye. He didn’t seem affected by the kiss. Even in the shop he acted the same as always. It probably didn’t cross his mind after it happened, and she was even happier she hadn’t written all the details of her time with the plug.

They pulled into the parking deck of a high-end hotel the Petal Pushers did business with.

“You’re taking me to a hotel?” There was only one thing she could imagine doing in a hotel with Cole, and he’d made it clear earlier in the week that wouldn’t happen.

“Yes, but not for the reason you think. Today, we’re going to get to know each other by having tea.”

“Tea?” She took the arm he offered her and walked with him inside.

“I am an Englishman.”

“I thought so, considering, you know, the accent and all.”

He obviously came by the hotel frequently. Almost every employee they passed greeted him with a “Hello, Mr. Johnson,” and he’d reply with a smile and a nod, calling them by name. She didn’t say anything until they got to the hostess, a gorgeous woman who looked her up and down before turning her attention to Cole.

“Come here often, do you?” she asked as they were led to a window table.

He flashed his million-dollar smile at the hostess, told her the table was perfect, and held Sasha’s chair out for her. “It’s so hard to find good tea in the Colonies.”

“The Colonies? Seriously, the war’s been decided for more than two hundred years. Let it go.”

“My dear, when it comes to tea, I’m never content to ‘let it go.’”

He was carefree, relaxed, and perfectly in his element as he selected his tea and offered suggestions for hers. They made small talk for a few minutes, stopping only when the waitstaff brought their tea.

She watched as he prepared his tea and copied on her own. Before too long, they were served tiny sandwiches and pastries. The silence and efficiency of the servers caught her attention, and she mentioned it to him.

“This is nothing.” He took a sip of tea. “You should see the service exhibited by a full-time slave at high tea. Perfection.”

Her hands trembled slightly at the thought. Just as quickly, she had a vision of Cole dressed in a three-piece suit, sitting at a formal table as she served him tea. She had on a short skirt and while she poured him water, his hand slid up her thigh.

“Sasha?” he asked, and she realized she’d spaced out for a moment. “Did you have an attack?”

“No.” She squirmed in her seat. At his continued look, she added, “The opposite, actually.”

His eyebrow shot up. “Indeed?”

“Yes, Sir.”

He didn’t say anything else about it, nor did he mention her slip in calling him “Sir.” In fact, he changed the subject altogether, asking her where she went to college and how she met Julie.

She went along with the conversation, answering his questions and then asking him about his own education. She knew he’d been at college with Daniel for a while, but knew nothing about his life after.

He spoke of his hometown in England, his days at Oxford, and how, even though he loved the UK, he now considered the U.S. his home.

“When did you first get involved in the lifestyle?” she asked as he prepared her a second cup of tea.

“In Oxford.” He leaned back in his seat. “Was doing a bit of research and supplemented with a little hands-on experimenting.”

“That sounds quite . . . thorough.”

“Never let it be said I cut corners.”

“I don’t think anyone could ever say that.”

He inclined his head in response. “How about you, when did you first enter the lifestyle?”

“In college. One of my boyfriends restrained me . . . during sex.”

“And you liked it?”