Book Three: Over The Line

She hesitated for a moment, and he wondered if she was going to answer or whether she was going to run. He held her lightly enough that her movements weren’t restricted.

“Boy shorts,” she said.

“Please remove them for me.”

“Now? Here?”

“Maybe you’re the one who should be afraid,” he said quietly, “rather than me. Gregorio says you often bail out of scenes. I wondered at first if it was because Doms asked too much from you. But I’m thinking they probably don’t ask enough. I’ve known you less than five minutes, but I’ve figured out you’re assertive. You know what you want, but I’m guessing you’re not always good at asking for it. Furthermore,” he added, leaning closer towards her, “I’m willing to bet you’re bored with anyone who isn’t as aggressive as you are. Am I wrong about that?”

She shivered. Since the Colorado evening was mild and they were standing near the fire, he knew she couldn’t be cold. So something he’d said had hit a nerve.

Surprising him, she unflinchingly met his gaze. “You’re right about the fact I get bored easily,” she admitted. She put her hand around his wrist. “And you’re wrong if you think I’m afraid of anything.”

“Fair enough. In that case, take off your panties.” He released his grip on her chin and she let go of him. He stayed in place, physically and figuratively refusing to give her space.

He offered his arm and she held onto it while precariously balancing on her heels.

Finally, she straightened and looked at him as she dangled the pretty pink material from her index finger. Too late he realised he’d made a mistake by not asking to see them on her first. The material had probably stretched across her derrière, highlighting her butt cheeks perfectly.

He accepted the proffered underwear and stuffed the lace and nylon confection in his pocket. Who would have suspected that she wore something so pretty beneath black leather? “What are your limits?”

“I haven’t found any,” she said.

“Then you’ve been playing with the wrong Doms.”

She shrugged. “That’s possible. But maybe I’m tougher than you think.”

“Perhaps,” he agreed, but with some scepticism. His ex-wife had let him believe she wanted things raw, but the moment the ring had been placed on her finger, the figurative collar had come off her throat. “Humiliation?”

“I don’t have a lot of experience with that.”

“No one has made you stand in a corner with your nose pressed to the wall when you misbehaved?”