Kate was impressed. The show’s host invited panelists to discuss the hot issue of the week. It usually ended with five intelligent individuals yelling at the top of their lungs, but it was the highest-rated nightly news show in Detroit.
“Are you coming with me to negotiate the terms of the funeral?” Nick asked her.
Jaxon picked up her briefcase. “Kate and I need to go over some of the protocol for this evening. I’ll take her home.”
Alone with Jaxon? Her pulse ratcheted up to supersonic speed. Didn’t they cover everything in his playroom? Or did he want to discuss last night?
Nick leaned closer to her. “Good luck tonight. If you need anything, and I do mean anything, you call me. Don’t keep secrets. I’ll pick you up in the morning, and we’ll meet Jaxon at nine at the firm to go over what you learned at Benediction.”
His head dipped toward her and for a moment she thought he was going to kiss her right there in the courtroom, in front of Jaxon and everyone else.
He didn’t.
“Stay safe,” he whispered before joining Carol Patterson for negotiations.
Jaxon watched Nick walk away before turning to glare at her. Caught in his web, she was unable to look away from him as all the memories of last night crashed into her like a tidal wave.
Stay safe?
She had no doubt Jaxon would protect her from any physical danger.
But who would guard her heart?
Chapter Four
FOR HER SAFETY, Jaxon insisted on accompanying her up to her apartment, and, without an invitation, he followed her inside.
She locked the door and then turned, bumping into a solid wall of muscle.
The apartment seemed to shrink to the size of a closet. Jaxon stood as still as an opossum playing dead. Every rise of his chest drew her closer and closer until she could no longer identify where she began and he ended. Pressing against her, the bulge in his pants jerked as it elongated from arousal.
What was she doing? She slapped her hands on his chest and pushed. She couldn’t go down this road with him again.
But when he peered down at her with those dilated pupils and hooded eyes, as if he were picturing making a meal out of her pussy, she could almost convince herself it would be worth it.
She darted to the kitchen. “Want a donut?”
“No, thanks.” He followed her. “Kate, I’m sorry about last night.”
She didn’t look at him. Just stayed in motion. “You don’t have to apologize. You were right. It was a mistake. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’d like to get some work done before tonight. You know the way out.”
“I meant what I said.”
She put her hands on her hips. “Which part? The part about you never getting enough of my pussy or the part where you said I fucking had you?”
The sides of his lips twitched. “The part about going over the protocol for Benediction.”
Heat flamed her cheeks. “Oh.”
Taking her wrist, he steered her to the empty space behind the couch. “I’m going to teach you how to kneel. For the purpose of instruction, I’ll refer to Dominants as masculine and the sub as feminine, but it’s far more common to see the opposite at Benediction.”
“I’d read that in my research, but I find it hard to believe.” His touch scorched her skin. Was he even aware that he was stroking the inside of her wrist with his thumb?
He smiled. “Men, especially those in high-powered, high-pressure careers, use BDSM as a means to release stress by relinquishing control to another for a time. That’s why the public’s misconceptions about BDSM are absurd. Would you ever call the President of the United States submissive? Of course not. He’s one of the most powerful men in the world, but in the bedroom, it’s far more likely for a man like that to hand over the power to his partner. And if she flogged him? Would you call the First Lady an abuser?”
She wrinkled her nose in disgust. “Great. Now I’ve got the image of the First Lady leading the President by a leash. I’ll never view them the same again.”
Wouldn’t owning a venture capitalist firm be considered a high-powered career? If so, why would Jax choose to be a Dom? And if Alyssa enjoyed pain, did that mean he was a sadist? All these labels and boundaries confused the hell out of her.
His finger drew circle eights on her wrist, and he inched closer, grazing her breasts with the hard planes of his abdomen. “I’m not saying he is a sexual submissive. Just that it’s far more common than people realize. Politicians, attorneys, doctors, police officers.”
His proximity was ramping up her arousal and sending mixed signals to her traitorous body. It obviously didn’t care that Jaxon had rejected her. It still wanted him.