Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 84102 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 421(@200wpm)___ 336(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84102 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 421(@200wpm)___ 336(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
She opened the door and stepped into the living area. And stopped because he was sitting at the desk, his face illuminated by the laptop screen and the soft light coming from the lamp. He had his glasses on, and he was staring at the screen intently with that look she’d quickly come to associate with him being lost in thought.
He was beautiful, and she wasn’t sure how she could fit in his world. Was his world as far from her as Michael’s had been?
His head came up, and suddenly it wasn’t the screen he was studying. “Hello, Tessa. Come here.”
The smile might have been friendly, but his tone was lower, the hint of a command in the words. She resisted the urge to lick her lips and stepped into the room. The door made a heavy, final thunking sound as it closed behind her. As tense as she’d been before, now she found her shoulders relaxing, the calm she normally felt in the changing room at Sanctum starting to slide over her.
She was suddenly so much more aware of her body, of the way the silk of her pajamas felt against her skin, the cool breeze from the fan overhead caressing her. Her feet sank into the thick carpet of the rug, and she could smell the soap she’d used.
She shook herself out of those thoughts and back to the problem at hand. They had things to work out. “We need to talk. I meant what I said about throwing down, but also—”
“No.” David tucked his hands into his pockets and smiled. He was wearing the same khakis with a brown belt and a white dress shirt he’d worn to dinner, though he’d lost the tie and jacket. The top two buttons of the dress shirt were open and the sleeves rolled up. He was barefoot. It was a far cry from the leathers and boots she was used to. So why did she find it so fucking sexy? Even his glasses were hot. Hot professor.
Wait. He’d said no.
“No?” She crossed her arms. “No you don’t want to have sex tonight, or no—”
“No, we don’t need to talk.” He picked up the straight-backed wooden chair he’d been sitting in and moved past her. He opened the door to the bedroom again, walking through.
She watched as he settled the chair near the foot of the massive four-poster bed. All the furniture in the villa was well-made, if simple in design. It looked like most of it had probably been made here on the island and assembled in the rooms given the size of the pieces. If he tied her down to that bed, arms and legs spread, there’d be no way of getting away. She could pull on the ropes all she wanted. That bed wasn’t going anywhere.
She would be at his mercy. No arguing. No fighting her own wants. All she would be able to do was take the pleasure this man could give her.
If tonight was about throwing down, maybe she should do exactly that. Tackle him and use a soft takedown move to get him on his back on the floor. Then she could straddle him and—
“Tessa, I asked you to sit down.”
With a start she glanced at him, then backed up a few steps and sat. She’d missed that first command. The second hadn’t been given in Dom voice, that had been teacher voice. A reprimand mixed with an order and all coated in a slightly disappointed tone.
“Damn,” she said in admiration. “You’re a college professor. I didn’t think you’d have that pissed-off teacher thing happening.”
He grinned, his lips quirking up in a smirk she shouldn’t find so sexy. He stepped in front of her, just close enough that she had to tilt her head back to see his face. Just enough to let her know who was in charge.
“I’m going to talk and you’re going to listen.” He stared her down. “We’re going to address the issue of your preconceived notions about what qualifies a man to be a Dom. I sensed that you were surprised when I told you, and I think I know why.”
She was getting a lecture? She hadn’t expected that, but then she was starting to get the idea that David was way more of a mystery than she’d imagined. “I don’t think that you can’t be a Dom. I was just—”
“Please do not interrupt.”
Tessa closed her lips, eyeing him from under her lashes.
He fiddled with his glasses, adjusting them slightly on his nose. He started to circle around the chair, looking down at her. It was like a predator circling his…
No. It was like a curator looking at a newly acquired piece of art. An archaeologist examining an artifact. He was looking at her as if she were unique and special. Treasured.