Here we go with another segment of Sand and Amanda’s story:
He cut her off, in a tone so raw it made her shiver. “Will you deny me?”
“No.” She wouldn’t. She couldn’t. She’d had perhaps a hundred different men in her bed in the last seven years, and none of them had ever looked at her with such an expression, as if she were infinitely wondrous, utterly precious. “Would you like to go to the Red Rockers concert with me on Saturday?”
“I’ll go anywhere with you,” he murmured.
He dipped his mouth to her collarbone, but she lifted his face to her with a hand under his chin. “Then I need to keep my appointments tonight so I can have Saturday off.”
The sweet expression on his face froze into wrath. “No more appointments,” he snarled. “Never again. You said you wouldn’t deny me.”
Amanda jerked her robe closed and pulled the sash tight. “I’m not denying you,” she pointed out reasonably. “I’m giving you Saturday. Other men made appointments for tonight. I’m booked three weeks out, so they’ve been waiting. It’s not fair to cancel on them at the last minute.”
“No!” he howled. “No man comes before me. You are mine!”
Disbelief dropped her jaw. “Excuse me?”
“I saw you today on the street. I’ve known since that moment that you were mine.”
Amanda exhaled a breath. What a pity. Sand was so handsome, and so damn stupid. “I don’t belong to you, Sand.” She jabbed a finger at the door. “Get out.”
He jerked her hard against him and backed her into the wall, trapping her. “No.”
Her mouth fell open. Was he crazy? All she had to do to get rid of him was call the monitor … Ice slid down her spine. He was the monitor. And right now he looked angry enough to alarm her.
Pain passed swiftly over his face. One finger at a time, he released her arms, and then stepped back. “You’re afraid of me?”
“No,” she lied. Well, it wasn’t a total lie. She was sure someone would come if she screamed.
“You are afraid of me.” Something close to shame was in his voice. “I would never hurt you.”
“Then leave me alone.”
“I can’t.” The words were simple and quiet. He turned his back to her, showing her all that long sleek black hair falling down his back. “You’re the only woman I can ever love.”
Amanda barely restrained an eye roll. Like she hadn’t heard that a thousand times before. “Please leave, Sand. We’ll talk about this tomorrow if you want to. My invitation for Saturday is still open. But if you don’t leave me alone now I’ll never speak to you again.”
An almost invisible shudder went down his spine. After a moment he walked to the door, opened, and left.
Amanda stared at the door. Well, that went easier than she’d expected. A small part of her was almost disappointed he’d given in so easily. Not even a demand for a last kiss!
With a twitch of her shoulder she went to her vanity to re-do her makeup. Her next appointment was still over an hour away, but she could get ready for that, and then go downstairs to mingle until Paul arrived. The makeup she applied was darker and more dramatic, and she took off the erotically prim nightdress and put on the black leather shorts and bustier that showed off her dragon tattoo, then pulled on the thigh high black boots with the five inch needle heels. It took her only a few minutes to release her hair from its feminine arrangements of loops and tease it into a mess. This was Paul’s favorite look. He liked being dominated by his partner, and Amanda knew she did it well.
With a last glance in the mirror, she went to the door to join some of the other girls to mingle and flirt with the guests. She hadn’t gone one step before she saw Sand leaning crossed-armed next to her door. When he saw her, he jerked straight with his eyes springing wide. She gave him a small smile and sashayed to the rail to wave down at the people below. They applauded enthusiastically. Knowing he legs looked a mile long in the boots, she sauntered to the stairs.
Somehow, Sand got there first. “Where are you going?” he demanded in a growl so sexy she shivered.
“To play with the visitors,” she replied.
“Play? Will you kiss them?”
The jealousy would have been cute if he wasn’t so damn scary. “Of course not.”
“Will they try to kiss you?”
“Not if they’re smart.”
He eased up on the scary. “I’ll go with you to be sure no one bothers you.”
She tapped a glossy red nail against her chin. “You know, that could work. Every dominatrix needs a sub. Wait here a minute while I get a collar to put on you.”
“Collar?” he said, but she was already turning away and didn’t see they outrage on his face or the eerie shimmer of gold that distorted his eyes. He roared after her, “Do you think I’m a lap dog?”