“It’s very good,” he said slowly as he dropped his gaze to once more take in the drawing. “You have a lot of talent.”
“Can I have it back now?” she asked. “I’m late.”
He looked back up, lifting his eyebrow in question. “You didn’t appear to be leaving until you saw me coming toward you.”
“That was several minutes ago, and I wasn’t late then. Now I am.”
“What are you late for?”
Her brows drew together in consternation and then her eyes flashed in annoyance. “I don’t think that’s any of your business.”
“Ash,” he said at her pause at the end. “My name is Ash.”
She nodded but didn’t say his name. And right then he’d have given anything to hear his name on her lips.
He reached forward, brushing his fingers over the collar at her throat. “This have anything to do with what you’re late for?”
She took a step back, her frown deepening.
“Your Dom waiting for you?”
Her eyes widened and her fingers automatically went to the collar where his fingers had been just seconds before.
“What’s your name?” he asked, when she remained silent. “I gave you mine. The polite thing to do is return the favor.”
“Josie,” she said barely above a whisper. “Josie Carlysle.”
“And who owns you, Josie?”
Her eyes narrowed then and she clutched her bag, shoving the remainder of her pencils into it. “Nobody owns me.”
“Then did I misunderstand the significance of that collar you’re wearing?”
Her fingers brushed over it again, and it made him itchy. He wanted to remove it. It wasn’t right for her. A collar should be carefully chosen for a submissive. Something that matched her personality. Something made especially for her. And not just any woman.
“You didn’t misunderstand,” she said in a husky voice that sent shivers down his spine. Her voice alone would seduce a man in a matter of seconds. “But nobody owns me, Ash.”
And there it was. His name on her lips. It hit him deep, filling him with inexplicable satisfaction. He wanted to hear it again. When he was pleasuring her. When he had his hands and mouth on her body, drawing whispery sighs of contentment from her.
He lifted one eyebrow. “Then do you misunderstand the significance of that collar?”
She laughed. “No, but he doesn’t own me. Nobody owns me. It was a gift. One I choose to wear. Nothing more.”
He leaned in, and this time she didn’t back away. Her gaze fixed on him, curiosity gleaming, and even anticipation. She felt it too. That magnetic pull between them. She’d have to be blind and in denial not to feel it.
“If you wore my collar, you’d damn well know you belonged to me,” he growled. “Furthermore, you wouldn’t regret for a moment that you gave yourself wholly to me. If you were in my care, you’d definitely belong to me. There’d be no question. And you wouldn’t hesitate when asked who your dominant was. Nor would you say it was a gift like it was nothing more than a piece of jewelry thoughtlessly chosen on a whim. It would mean something, Josie. It would mean fucking everything, and you’d know that.”
Her eyes widened and then she laughed again, her eyes twinkling. “Then it’s too bad I don’t belong to you.”