Bunny and the Beast(Divine Creek Ranch 22)(44)
“Respectfully, Sir, did you have hot wax slathered over your bat and balls and ass and then experience having the hair ripped out by the roots? Because ow!” she said with a shudder while looking around to make sure they were alone. The staff and Jade had a habit of sneaking up on them when they were talking, and this was a private conversation.
She thought he might’ve paled a little at the description, but he shook his head. “Bratty at every turn. Why am I bothering if you intend to argue even the basic expectations?”
Bunny gave the dill pickle a long, slow lick. “Tell you what. I’ll make you a deal.”
His eyes followed her tongue as she licked at the salty, sour juice on the pickle. “Bunny.”
She ignored his warning tone. “Hear me out, Sir. I’ll make an appointment for a full Brazilian at Madeleine’s—for both of us. I’ll do it, if you do it.” Opening her mouth, she bared her teeth and took a big chunk out of the thick pickle, stifling her laughter at the way he stared and then cringed.
“No.”
Giggling, she licked the juice from her lips and fingers. “Come on. I’ll do it if you’ll do it…unless you’re chicken?”
He sighed, and his jaw looked as if he was grinding his molars.
“Bawk-bawk-bawk?” she said softly as she flapped her elbows and giggled until he finally looked up at her, and she saw the amusement glittering in his eyes.
“What am I going to do with you, Miss Carrigan? God, would you stop that?” he ground out as she licked her pickle again and then took another big bite.
“What?” she said over her chewing. “I’ve been in your hot attic. The dill pickle and its juice help to keep muscle cramps at bay.”
He tilted his head as he gazed at her, and his expression softened a little. “I hate that you’re working in the attic today.”
“Only for short periods and it’s not too bad since your attic is foam insulated. So what else is on your diabolical list?”
He glanced at her and drew across the line that listed “waxed pussy” as a requirement and then checked off the next one. “Regular exercise. That’s not a problem, given what you do for a living. Neither will hygiene. It’s obvious you take care of yourself.”
“Why, thank you, handsome. Hey, I just had a thought.”
Heaving a sigh, he said, “We’ll get to forms of address shortly.”
She smiled. “Noted…Beastly.”
“You have a death wish.”
“That or my ass does. Anyway, how about if, instead of getting waxed, I dye my pussy to match my red hair? That might be interesting.”
He frowned and shook his head. “No, no dye near my pussy.”
“Uh—mine,” she interrupted, pointing down at her crotch. “It’s attached. Goes everywhere I do.”
“My sub. My pussy,” he said, and for once, she kept her mouth shut. “I don’t want you to do that, Bunny. That’s too sensitive a place to be putting dyes. What if you just keep the area nicely trimmed?”
Nodding enthusiastically, she said, “I can do that. It may take some flexibility and a mirror, but I’m okay with that.”
His smile was another one of those scary evil ones. “I’d be happy to inspect and help if need be.”
“You’d like that, huh?”
“I’d enjoy it.”
“Okay, Sir,” she murmured, liking the whole idea of being taken care of.
He went on listing other areas she’d need to observe submissive status and behavior, including her manner of dress.
“I can’t afford any fancy fetish clothing right now, Sir.”
“I would provide what you need if I allow you to wear anything.”
She thought back to the night she’d encountered Violet Tyler in her all-together, and she surprised herself when she said, “You wouldn’t ask more of me than I can give, would you?”
“I would not. But I will explore with you what your limit is in that regard. Would you go nude if I asked it of you and I could guarantee your safety?”
She nodded. “I’m okay with that, I think. What will I call you when we are around the others? I won’t call you Beastly, if you’re worried about that by the way.” That was personal, between the two of them.
He smirked. “Right. Don’t make promises you may not be able to keep. You may call me Sir, as you have been doing—beautifully, I might add.”
It came a lot easier than she’d expected it would, but she wasn’t ready to admit that.
Joseph sipped from his glass of iced tea, studying her as she ate another bite of her sandwich. “I’m not your Master, and I don’t expect you to call me that.”