“I hate being cold.”
“Hello, maybe you shouldn’t live nine thousand feet above sea level.” Jen felt her teeth chatter as his ridiculously cold hands settled on her waist.
“I was born in Texas. Heat is in my blood, but I got to Bliss as fast as I could,” he said.
She was still cold, but the idea that her body heat was warming him gave her such pleasure she didn’t complain. “Why didn’t you just hop into bed with me? It’s warm under the covers.” His mouth turned down. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep.”
“You just meant to come in and stare at me while I slept? That’s very creepy of you, Stef,” Jen said, softening it with a smile. He was weird and intense. She was cool with it. It was just who he was. He could stare at a canvas for hours before he even opened a tube of paint. She remembered one afternoon where he’d stared at that blank sheet, and she’d stared at him, the hours rolling by as they were both lost in their own worlds.
“I’m not usually so weird,” Stef said, his voice calm, but she heard the gravity in it.
“Really?” Jen couldn’t help the sarcasm. He was absolutely the weirdest person she knew, and that was saying something. “Let’s see, one, you’re an artist, and a really well-known one. That’s strike one.
Artists are weird. Two, you’re a Dom. You like to spank girls and tie them up, and there are things in that guesthouse that I don’t even know what they’re used for.”
His feet rubbed against her skin. “When did you go to the guesthouse?”
“Callie took me. I was curious. She even showed me where the peepholes and the hiding spots are. Per—vert. As for your third strike, you live in Bliss. You’re out. Just own up to it.”
“I never claimed I was normal, Jennifer,” Stef replied. “But then, anyone who claims to be normal is probably lying or miserable because they don’t know their own natures. Humans are freaks. It’s better we accept it. Are you going to deny that you liked your spanking last night?”
A warm rush of arousal poured over her. “Not on your life. Don’t misunderstand me, babe. I love every freaky inch of you. You might be a complete perv, but I wouldn’t have you any other way. If it makes you happy to sleep at the end of my bed like some crazy stalker, then I’m fine with it, but you could have crawled in with me.” He pulled his feet away, and suddenly his hands cupped her face, and his eyes were a serious, stormy gray. “This is a bad idea, but I don’t think I can stay away from you.” Finally, some progress. She snuggled close and was perfectly happy when his arms crept around her. “I don’t want you to. I never wanted you to.”
“You might after you figure out what I want,” he murmured. His hand stroked her hair as he spoke. “I want to train you. I want a Master/sub relationship. It’s all I can do, Jennifer. For the time it takes to clear up everything, I think we should play together. I’ll understand if you don’t want that. I think we’ll end up in bed either way.” She didn’t want to stay out of bed. And he was fooling himself if he thought all he wanted was a D/s relationship. “I’ve read up on BDSM. I might be a novice, but I know a little something.” His hands were creeping up the tank top she was wearing. “Are you sure? I can be a bit demanding when it comes to play.” He was already demanding. He already pushed and pulled her this way and that, and she wasn’t even getting regular sex for it. “I think I can handle you.”
“So young. So naïve.”
So full of shit. “Bring it on, Talbot.” Something hard flinted across his face. “Fine. Show me your breasts.”
Jen threw the covers off and had that tank top over her head in a heartbeat. The room was still chilly, but the cold wasn’t what had her nipples puckering. She was finally in bed with Stef, and she hadn’t had to force him there.
“And your pussy.”
She pushed the pajama bottoms she had on off, along with the bikini panties she was wearing.
“Spread your legs.”
His voice had lowered a couple of octaves, and it poured over her skin like thick, rich honey. She complied, though it felt awkward. Stef sat up and looked down at her. He didn’t say a thing, just sat there.
His stormy eyes took in every inch of her skin. Jen wondered if she should put on a show, but thought better of it. He was staring at her the way he looked at a piece of art. Just his eyes on her was making her skin heat up.
Why this man? Jen asked herself as she lay still under his considering gaze. Life would be so much easier if she could love someone simple. Stef was beyond complex. He was outrageous, kinky, sexy as hell, and the most loyal man she’d ever met. He’d helped out just about everyone in Bliss. Everyone knew he was the world’s worst sucker for a hard luck story. Didn’t have health insurance? See Stef. He’d pay for your medical bills. When drought had threatened the local ranchers, they didn’t go to the bank, they came to Stef Talbot. When Zane and Callie and Nate needed a loan to start their tavern, they had gone straight to Stef. He really was the king of Bliss, but sometimes he held himself apart. He needed to know that the people he helped loved him, too. Jen was pretty sure he never thought about that.
While Stef stared at her, his eyes fastening on her pussy, she stared back at him. He was a work of art. His jaw was a strong line.
She would use a single, thick brushstroke to capture its stony grace.
His skin was smooth and sun-kissed, gold and tan, blended with cream. His hair was longer than usual, falling just over his eyes in midnight locks. And his eyes. She’d always loved his eyes. They were ever changing with his mood. They went from flint gray when he was angry to a warm, almost misty tone when he softened. When he was aroused, there was a storm in those eyes that always pulled her in.
Her whole body flushed with desire, and he hadn’t touched her yet.
A slow smile creased his perfect face. “Very good, Jennifer. Now get dressed. I want to show you something.” Jen sat up. “What?”
He gracefully rose and stretched his long limbs. “I said get dressed. My father is running around here. I don’t want him to see you naked. He already thinks you’re a felon.” Jen felt her eyes narrow. “I don’t really care what your dad thinks.
What game are you playing that you think you can get me all hot and bothered and then leave me this way?” A low growl came out of his throat, and suddenly his body was pressed to hers. His weight held her down, and the menace in his face did all kinds of things to her heart rate. “I am not playing a game. I am the Master, and you are the sub. That means you do what I tell you to do when it comes to sex, love. I know I can’t expect you to listen to me when it comes to anything else, but I am the Master in this room.
Now, you have a choice to make, accept my will or tell me no and this is done.”
Jen clenched her fists. It wasn’t fair, but this was the way it was with Stef. If she wanted a chance to prove they belonged together, this was what she had to do. In return, he would coddle and protect her.
He would lavish her with affection. The fact that he was willing to cede that he didn’t have the final say outside of sex was actually a win, she decided. She knew that wasn’t the deal with his other subs.
He was in control of every aspect of life during their time together.
She was different. It would have to be enough for now. “I can’t get dressed with you on top of me, babe.” He got up and held his hand out. Jen let him help her up. She tossed on the tank and her PJ pants. He’d picked up her panties and shoved them into the pocket of his sweats.
“You don’t need them,” he said almost defensively. “No panties for you.”
His kinks made her smile. She imagined what he’d do with her underwear. She doubted he would simply toss them in the laundry.