Julie studied her with frank assessment, but unlike times past, she appeared to be satisfied with what she saw. Daniel, of course, acted as if nothing happened, but Cole knew he didn’t miss anything.

“Julie and I are going to start planning next year’s melanoma benefit tomorrow. We’re going to check out a few venues. Either of you want to come?” Daniel asked.

“Hell, no,” Cole said. “Event planning is about on a par with having a tooth pulled. I’d rather stay in the guesthouse and alphabetize canned goods.”

Daniel snorted. “You say that like your cans aren’t already alphabetized. Sasha?”

If Cole felt like a third wheel around Daniel and Julie, he could only imagine how Sasha felt. She squirmed in her seat.

“Actually,” Cole said. “I was going to ask Sasha for help tomorrow.”

Sasha laughed softly. “Oh, boy. I either spend the day looking at hotel ballrooms or arranging cans. I don’t think I can handle all the excitement. I might have to decline both and wash my hair.”

“If you help me, I promise we won’t do anything with cans,” Cole assured her. She raised an eyebrow at him. “I have an appointment to see a house.”

Sasha had given him several names of real estate agents the second time they met for her retraining. Not being in a hurry to move and admittedly not looking forward to the hassle involved with looking for a new place, he’d postponed contacting anybody. He’d finally called one a few days ago, and she wanted to show him a newly listed property.

Sasha tapped her chin in mock thought. “House hunting definitely beats out hotel ballrooms, but I don’t know. I really should wash my hair. Give me a second to think.”

If he’d known talking her through an orgasm would have brought out this new playful side of her, he’d have done it earlier. He stretched out in his chair and put his arms over his head.

“Either way works for me. But if you’re going to be home all day tomorrow, I have a new writing assignment for you.”

“I believe that’s called blackmail, Sir.”

“In that case, you can do the writing assignment no matter what you decide.”

Her eyes widened in shock. “You did that on purpose.”

“Of course I did.” He hid a smug grin, enjoying the playful banter between them. Unfortunately, he had that interview to conduct in about fifteen minutes. He pushed back from the table. “I have a call set up. I’ll see everyone later. Sasha, walk out with me, please.”

She hopped down and they made their way outside in silence. When they got to the guesthouse drive, he turned to her.

“If you’d like to go tomorrow, I’ll pick you up at eight.”

He was pleased to see the lighthearted look remained with her even though they were alone. He’d feared she’d feel awkward around him with everyone else gone.

“I’d like to go.” She shrugged her shoulders. “I can wash my hair tonight.”

He leaned down and whispered, “Wash it tomorrow morning. Tonight you’re to write five hundred words on why going without panties made you so wet.”

•   •   •

He slept restlessly that night, his thoughts consumed with the way Sasha’s body had writhed under his gaze. How she’d followed his commands and brought herself to release at his bidding. She was a wonderfully sexual creature, and he allowed himself a few minutes to wish he hadn’t been so insistent they not have sex.

Of course, he’d promised they’d discuss his training her in slave service. Hell, he was a bastard to even consider such a thing. He told himself he was doing it because if he didn’t she might find someone else, and he’d be damned if that would happen.

But he knew if they agreed to any type of slave training, they would have to renegotiate their arrangement. In order for her to get the full experience, she’d have to move in with him, he’d have her naked for part of the day, and, if she agreed, he’d drop the restriction on sex.

That he told himself was the real reason he agreed to discuss the potential in a month: having her kneeling, naked and desperate for his cock, at his feet while he worked. Unbidden, his fantasy played out like puzzle pieces:

“You’re going to have to wait. I have to finish this article.”

He ignores her on purpose, pretending to write, but the entire time he is watching her. Her skin is freshly washed and he can smell just a hint of the lemongrass lotion he bought her. She tries to be still because she knows it pleases him, but he sees the minuscule movements of her body.

Sometime later he bids her to stand and display herself. He fondles her while reading over a draft and slaps her ass when she tries to direct where his hands go.

“Naughty slave, thinking she knows where her Master should touch her.”

Next, he has her sit on his desk with her legs spread and finger herself without climaxing. He tells her to get ready, that she better be wet enough. She’s dangerously close to losing it. He stands and takes his cock out, telling her if she comes, she doesn’t get his cock for three days.

Finally, he allows them both what they want and she comes twice before he pulls back. He takes his still hard dick and tells her to bend over the desk. She knows his plan and she’s nervous even as he prepares her with the lube.

But he holds her entirety in his hands and he wants only to bring her pleasure. And though he eventually takes his own release, it is her soft cry of gratification that’s his true reward.

He woke up the next morning with an uncomfortable erection. Usually, he would take the matter into his own hand, but he decided to go for a quick run instead. As he’d hoped, the morning air and peaceful surroundings helped clear his mind, though he feared it didn’t do much to calm his libido.

His assumption proved correct when he knocked on Sasha’s door at five before eight and she answered. Her hair was still slightly damp and she didn’t have any makeup on. She looked natural, and the effect was beautiful.

“Good morning, Sir. Would you like to come in?” Her smile indicated she probably slept better than he had. Of course, between the two of them, she’d been the one with the mind-blowing orgasm the day before.

“Thank you.” He stepped inside, suddenly curious about the space she called home.

Her apartment was eclectically decorated with sleek contemporary black and white mixed with antique touches of deep red. It wasn’t a style to be found on any decorating guide, but somehow it fit her personality perfectly.