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  “I’m sure you have a few minutes to spare. Sit.” His voice was firmer this time, his accent sending a chill down her spine. He turned his gaze to Leo. “Leo, be a good boy and get me a brandy, would you?” He didn’t finish the sentence as though it were a question. It was far closer to a command.

  Leo shuffled across the room toward a long bar she hadn’t noticed until then.

  “Sit, my dear.” The man lowered his face to stare at her over the top of his glasses. His face was unreadable. Hard. He wasn’t a man she wanted to cross. That much she knew.

  Tentatively, she took a seat on the couch, not quite as close as he probably intended, but close enough to temporarily appease him until she could figure a way out of the mess. She set her shoes and purse on the floor at her feet.

  “So, tell me about yourself. What’s your name?”

  “Angelica.” Why was he asking her this?

  “Relax, Angelica. I’m just making conversation. What do you do?”

  “I’m a student at the university.”

  He lifted a brow. “How old are you?”

  “Nineteen.” She sat up straighter. She was old enough to make the choices she made. Who was he to judge?

  “And you met Leo at a bar? How did you get in?”

  “Fake ID,” she muttered. Hell, everyone had a fake ID. So?

  The gray-haired man ignored her infraction. “The university, huh. An intellect. How precious. What’re you studying?”

  “Literature.”

  “Oh.” His brows rose. “A lit major. Then you must know Dr. Bascott.”

  She flinched. Could this night get any weirder? “I do. I have a class with him this semester.”

  The man grinned for the first time. “Ah. Excellent. He’s an amazing professor. Is he not?”

  “He is. How to you know him, sir?” She tried for polite, relaxing marginally. If this man knew Bascott, how bad could the guy be?

  “We go way back.” He waved a hand through the air, dismissing her question. “I haven’t spoken to him in a while. I should really give him a call. Is he still fighting?”

  “Sir?” What did he mean by fighting?

  The man narrowed his gaze at her as though assessing her reaction. “Perhaps he doesn’t reveal that side of himself to his students.” Gray-haired guy twisted his neck to look at Leo. “Leo, when was the last time you saw our friend Conner?”

  “It’s been a few weeks. We sparred for practice together, oh, I don’t know, maybe three weeks ago?” Leo glanced up at the ceiling as if pulling the answer out of his memory.

  “You know Professor Bascott too?” She whipped her head fully around to face Leo.

  “Only in the MMA circles.” Leo returned and handed Gray a tumbler, notably not offering Angelica anything. Leo plopped down in a chair across from them, nursing a drink of his own. Something dark and on the rocks.

  “MMA?”

  “Mixed Martial Arts,” Gray responded.

  She had no idea the professor was a fighter. But holy shit that was hot. Just thinking of the buff professor battling it out in the ring made her pussy clench. No wonder he was so smoking hot.

  Was his fighting a secret? Maybe no one at the university knew what Dr. Bascott did in his spare time. If it had anything to do with these guys, it was probably illegal. Something about this older man seemed illicit.

  The older guy tipped his head back and chuckled. “I wonder what he’s up to these days? Leo, is he still with that girl he was dating a while back?”

  “Not that I know of.”

  “Huh. Too bad. She was cute.” The man seemed to be commenting to nobody in particular.

  What girl? Angelica’s curiosity was piqued. Surely he wasn’t referring to that bitch Sabrina. Was he?

  “Yeah, she was hot,” Leo added. “Tiny though. She didn’t have anything on Angelica.” He winked at her as he spoke.

  Holy fuck.

  “Sabrina?” she asked.

  The older guy snapped his fingers. “Sabrina. That was it. Long brown hair. About this tall?” He held one hand up in the air.

  Yep, that had to be her. How had that bitch managed to ruin Angelica’s night without even being present? Fuck her. And how the hell long had she been seeing Conner?

  Angelica almost smiled. She’d suspected, but if Conner really had been fucking Sabrina all last semester, he truly would be in a heap of trouble.

  Perhaps the reason he’d been so curt with the woman was simply to throw the rest of the class off of his dalliance.

  Oh, Professor Bascott. Shame on you…

  “What was her last name, Leo?” The older guy seemed to be ignoring Angelica.

  “Duluth,” she responded.

  “Yes. That was it. Huh. Small world. How do you know her?” Gray asked.

  “We were in the same class last semester.”

  “She’s a student? Dating the professor? Isn’t that against policy?”

  Angelica nodded. If what this guy was saying was true, then it would seem Dr. Bascott had been a very naughty boy. She should have thought of that sooner. If the two of them fucked in a restaurant in July, it would stand to reason they had screwed around before that also.

  “Huh, well ain’t that a crazy coincidence?” The guy stood and slammed the rest of his drink down. “I really need to hit the sack. Leo, are you taking this lovely lady home?”

  “No. Her car’s at the bar where we met. I’ll get her a taxi.” He lifted his drink as though after consuming it he wouldn’t dare get behind a wheel, even though he’d driven her to the strange compound in the first place after drinking.

  Bastard.

  Chapter Fourteen

  It was bright. Too bright. Sabrina opened one eye to get her bearings.

  Then she moaned.

  Shit. Conner’s house.

  Soft music reached her ears from somewhere in the house. Classical. Soothing. In contrast with her confused mental state.

  She was afraid to move. How bad would her ass hurt?

  Shit.

  She’d slept in Conner’s bed, in Conner’s house. She’d let him spank her. Hard. And he hadn’t permitted her to come.

  Had she lost her mind?

  She shifted a few inches, still on her belly, but testing the rub of the sheet against her ass. Not bad.

  Deep breaths. She needed to get up, take a shower, go home. She had work to do. Taking entire days off wasn’t her style.

  Sabrina eased from the bed until she stood naked in the room. She didn’t make a sound.

  She was okay.

  She spotted Conner’s black T-shirt from the night before and snagged it to pull over her head. She needed to face him at some point. Better to get it over with.

  She had no idea why she felt shy about seeing him.

  Because you let him spank you hard.

  Yep. That was a little embarrassing.

  First she silently made her way to the adjoined bathroom, realizing with every step she still wore his plug. What would he say if she took it out? Better to leave it for now. She used the toilet and washed her hands.

  When she padded into the living room, she paused to take in her surroundings. She hadn’t paid very close attention to anything the night before. She’d been too worried about what Conner’s intentions were, and then she’d been too horny to see straight.

  His couch was an enormous black leather piece that was currently occupied by its owner. Whatever he was doing must have been very interesting because he hadn’t noticed her enter. She was behind the back of the couch, so from her angle, she couldn’t see what he was engrossed in. His head was dipped low. Reading?

  She took a moment to soak in the rest of his great room. Everything was warm and inviting. Not nearly what she would expect from a bachelor pad. All browns and blacks. Throw pillows graced the matching black leather arm chair and were tossed on the floor in front of it.

  She inched forward until she was feet away from Conner.

  Finally, he lifted his gaze. A hug
e smile spread across his face, and he raised one arm over the back of the couch toward her. “Hey, sleepy.”

  She closed the gap between them until he could grab her and tug her up against the back of the couch. That’s when she realized what he was reading. And his chest was bare. Delicious.

  He lifted up the book. “Gotta apologize to you again. This isn’t half bad.”

  She smiled. “Told you.”

  “I admit, I expected only smut. But there’s a story under it.”

  “Of course there’s a story, doofus.” She swatted at his shoulder, wondering if doofus was an acceptable word. He didn’t comment, so she assumed her sore ass was safe.

  “Come.” He nodded in front of him and released her.

  She rounded the couch, realizing his intention when she reached him. He nodded at the floor, intending for her to kneel.

  She eased onto her knees, relieved to find he wouldn’t require her to sit. She was still leery about what her ass might feel like.

  He cupped her face. “Did you sleep well?”

  “Surprisingly yes, Sir.” She let her gaze roam down his face to stare at his chest. The tattoo over his right shoulder was so intricate and amazing it made her lick her lips. And his pecs… Jesus. There had to be a law against such divine exposure.

  He grinned. Good. And then he kissed her nose and leaned back to tuck a lock of hair behind her ear.

  “I’m a mess. I need makeup remover and a shower. I really should get home.”

  He frowned. “Is there a rush?”

  She shrugged. “I need to do some work today.”

  “Do you work every day?”

  “Most days. Yes.”

  He sat back and picked up the book again. “You edited this?”

  “I did.”

  “You did well, Sabrina.”

  She narrowed her gaze. “I continue to amaze you with my less-than-stellar profession.”

  He chuckled. “True. Do you write also?”

  “Mmm. A little.”

  “Published anything?”

  “No.”

  “Why? You’re a fantastic writer. And so knowledgeable about the genre.”

  She laughed. “That’s the second time you’ve told me you found my writing acceptable. It still sounds odd coming from the man I thought detested my work for so many months.”

  “I told you already that wasn’t true.”

  “Yes, but it will take a while for it to sink in. To answer your question, if I were independently wealthy, I would probably take the time to write a book. But since I’m not, and there are bills to pay, I edit. Writing is a risk. A risk only those who can afford to take may assume.”

  “Really? How long does it take to write a book like this?”

  She shrugged. “Depends on the muse, I suppose. Some authors can do it in weeks. Others need years. I like to pay my bills every month.” She grinned widely.

  “Shame.”

  “Perhaps. There’s no guarantee I would even be any good.”

  “But you have some writing already? Something stashed under your mattress, so to speak?”

  “A bit.” She chewed on her lower lip. Don’t go there, Conner.

  “So, you’re also scared.”

  He went there.

  “Of course. Everyone is.”

  He frowned. “Don’t hold yourself back out of fear. Your life will slip by while you watch.”

  “Thanks, Freud.”

  Conner leaned in and cupped her face again. “I’m not trying to psychoanalyze you. I just think you should think about it.”

  “Noted.”

  “Stay. I’ll get you something to eat.”

  Sabrina didn’t move. She wondered about his version of dominance while he was gone. This was the first time they were truly alone together for an extended period of time. He’d made it clear he was very dominant. Would he expect her to submit every time they were alone? And what about the exchange of dialogue they’d just engaged in? He let her speak freely, look at him, and even drop the title of Sir.

  Suddenly he was back. He took the same spot on the couch and held out a glass. “Juice?”

  “Thank you, Sir.” She took it from him after a slight hesitation where she hedged, wondering if he intended to feed her himself or let her take control.

  It seemed he would allow her to drink at her own pace.

  He also held a plate of food that smelled delicious. Bacon. Eggs. Toast. Her stomach growled.

  “I wasn’t sure what you liked to eat in the morning. I’m a pretty big breakfast eater, so I made you some too and kept it warm.”

  “Thanks. I don’t always eat so much, but I’m actually starving.”

  He handed her the plate and took the glass of orange juice from her to set it on the coffee table, freeing up her hands so she could hold the plate with one and eat with the other. She did so while he watched. It was unnerving. But she was hungry.

  A phone rang, jarring her to glance toward the kitchen.

  Conner didn’t move.

  “Feel free to get that, Conner.”

  “The machine will pick it up. I’m sure it isn’t important.” His gaze never left her.

  Sabrina continued to eat, the ringing piercing the otherwise silent room several times before the machine loudly announced in Conner’s deep voice that the caller should leave a message.

  “Conner… Darling… It’s Tina.”

  Sabrina’s back arched. She widened her eyes. Her chest pounded.

  Get a grip. Could be his sister.

  Conner rolled his head back against the couch and gripped his jean-clad thighs with both hands, clearly annoyed, but he didn’t jump up.

  “…You owe me one. That was so embarrassing last weekend. My parents don’t believe I actually have a boyfriend.”

  At that line, Sabrina dropped her plate. Luckily there wasn’t anything left on it, but it slipped from her hands to land on the carpet.

  Conner grunted and lifted his head to meet her gaze, a scowl on his face.

  She stared at him, not lowering her face as they listened to the rest of the conversation. Why was he allowing this to go on? If he had another woman… Fuck. She couldn’t even ponder the idea. This made no sense. If he had someone else, or recently…why the charade? And why didn’t he turn off the volume?

  Instead he remained still, holding her gaze, his lips pursed, his eyes dancing with frustration.

  “…So, I told my mother you’d be with me next weekend for our usual family dinner. Don’t let me down. Please, Conner.” Finally, the line went dead.

  Sabrina flinched when the machine clicked off. She held her breath. Waited.

  “Sorry about that.”

  That’s all he was going to say? “Conner?”

  “Co-worker. She has some notion she owns me. She does not.”

  “Good to know, under the circumstances, but what on earth makes her think she’s your girlfriend. Is she?”

  “Of course not. If she were, I wouldn’t have sat here letting you listen to her.”

  “I thought of that.” She nibbled her lower lip. “Was she? At one time?”

  “Never. Unfortunately she likes to believe otherwise. We had one brief incident about a year ago at a company function. I had a bit too much to drink, and she cornered me in a hallway and stuck her tongue down my throat. It wasn’t pleasant.” He winced. “I’ve tried to be polite toward her. I have to work with her. But she won’t take no for an answer. It’s getting out of hand. I’ll have to talk to her again.”

  “Clearly. That borders on sexual harassment.”

  “It does.” He leaned back again and ran both hands through his hair. “I’m not really in a position at work right now to charge someone with sexual harassment, so I’d rather handle it on my own or ignore the woman entirely.”

  “What situation at work?”

  “It’s nothing. Don’t worry about it.” He didn’t elaborate. After a few seconds, he leaned down to pick up her plate and set it on the co
ffee table. “Come. Let’s shower so I can get you home, and you can get some editing done.”

  Sabrina’s heart raced as she rose from the floor and followed him. His amazing back kept her occupied all the way to the bedroom, the gladiator shield mesmerizing.

  Conner flipped on the shower when they reached the bathroom. He turned toward her while it heated and grabbed the hem of her shirt.

  She was aware of her sensitive ass as the cotton eased up, but it didn’t hurt.

  He dropped the shirt on the floor and turned her around. “Lean over the edge of the vanity, baby.”

  She took several deep breaths, still rather uncomfortable with the way he handled her nudity. She wasn’t used to such intimate scrutiny.

  “Spread your legs farther.”

  She stepped out, wetness leaking between her legs. Her pussy pulsed with sudden need. It threw her off balance the way his demands made her so horny. His brand of dominance was nothing like anything she’d ever experienced.

  Until now, she’d gone to the club, played with different Doms, and even dated a few. But nothing in her past had ever come close to this intense relationship. She’d done scenes. At specified times. Usually at clubs. Never at her home. And rarely at a Dom’s home.

  This was so much more. What Conner expected of her was several notches up from anything she knew.

  His hands landed on her ass and squeezed. “Still pink, baby. Does it hurt?”

  She winced, but then panted as she realized her flesh was fine, just a slight sting when he initially grabbed her.

  “Sabrina?”

  “Not much, Sir.”

  “It looks how I would expect this morning. But I want to be sure it feels similarly. My intention isn’t to leave you in pain for days on end. A spanking should hurt enough to encourage you not to repeat a behavior. That’s all. Anything more is too much.”

  “I think it’s okay, Sir.” She did. But she also didn’t want him to do it often.

  His fingers landed on the plug and twisted. “I’m going to remove this now. I’m proud of you for leaving it in. Legs wider, baby. Relax.” His free hand gripped her waist.

  She stepped wider.

  “Good girl.” The plug popped out far easier than it went in.