Morgan used the untouched tea in front of her as an excuse to look away and scoured her brain for a safe, neutral topic.
Hard to do that when she’d invited him here to talk about sex.
“So, according to the bio I received about you, you’re in the personal security business. A
bodyguard?”
“Exactly.” He shrugged those deliciously massive shoulders. “I guard a lot of politicians and their families, diplomats, an occasional athlete.”
“You meet a lot of interesting people, I’m sure. Do you work with celebrities?” she asked.
A hint of humor curved his wide mouth to something nearing a smile. “Too flaky. Politicians are liars, but at least you know what to expect. You Hollywood types are either paranoid, self-absorbed, or as psycho as the people stalking you. No thanks.”
Morgan couldn’t decide if she was annoyed or amused. “I’m none of the above.”
“Give it time.” He winked.
Incorrigible described him perfectly. A hint of arrogance laced with a healthy dose of sex appeal and teasing humor. The mixture went down real smooth, thanks to his flirtation skills and a hint of Southern charm. No doubt, he was lethal to a woman’s common sense. Morgan swallowed.
The waiter came by, and Master J ordered a cup of thick Louisiana chicory coffee. She shuddered when the waiter brought it to their table moments later.
“Tell me more about your show.” His words should have been an invitation, but Morgan heard the subtle command in them. Not harsh, not driving. But his voice held a note of steel—one that made her stomach tighten…and her womb clench.
“Turn Me On combines interviews and facts to explore various facets of sexual life for both
established couples and the newly dating, from the vanilla to the way out there. Last season, I did a show one week about sex etiquette on a first date, another about ‘friends with benefits,’ then followed it up with couples who had tattoo fantasies. This will be my second season, and I was thrilled to be renewed. Since the network provides cable programming geared toward women and couples, I think it’s a perfect fit.”
“Hmm. Tell me about this season’s shows.”
Again, another subtle command. “Well, we’re still at the ideas stage, but we’re definitely
pursuing shows about boudoir photography, couples massage, erotic finger painting and—“
“And Dominance and submission.”
Morgan swallowed. She’d been caught up in enthusiasm for her show and almost forgotten they
were going to discuss that topic. The topic that fueled her shameful late-night fantasies.
“Yes.”
He quirked a dark brow at her expectantly, somehow managing to look sharp, displeased, and
nonthreatening all at once.
Puzzled, Morgan stared. What did he want?
“Yes, sir,” she ventured.
His smile dazzled, rewarded. “Very nice.”
“I thought such forms of address were reserved for one’s...”
“Submissive? Frequently, but you contacted me for a quick lesson or two. I thought it best to start with a hint of the dynamic and see how you do with it.” He leaned forward, an elbow braced on the table. His gaze poured directly into her, molten and unrelenting. “Do you understand what it means to submit to a man? Completely surrender?”
Morgan tried to suck in a breath, stunned to find it ragged beyond her control. His eyes flared hot with approval.
“T—this isn’t about me,” she argued breathlessly. “I just need to relate the concept to the—”
“How can you relate without a taste of it, cher? A little nibble ain’t gonna hurt you.” The smile he flashed her could only be termed pure sin. “You might even like it.”
That’s exactly what Morgan was afraid of.
She did her best to send him an expression that was all business. “It doesn’t matter if I like it.
After all, I managed to finish taping the show about couples’ tattoo fantasies successfully without ever getting a tattoo myself. It’s all about understanding why it’s important to them.”
“Paying someone to imprint a design on your skin while your significant other watches is a lot less personal than being blindfolded, naked, and bound for your master’s pleasure.”
With a gulp, Morgan realized he was right. Worse, that nibble he offered was starting to sound like a feast to her neglected sex drive.
No. This time around, Adam was offering the apple of temptation to Eve, and she was smart
enough to know better. If she seemed interested, it was because he filled her head with suggestion. He was hard to ignore. She wasn’t depraved, wasn’t the kind of woman to get off on letting a bully chain her down and tell her what to do. The idea was just novel. She had a purely intellectual curiosity in the concept. Okay, mostly intellectual. That didn’t mean she should indulge.