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  She hadn’t decided yet if she wanted him to contact her with every ounce of her being or if she wanted to throw hot lava on him and walk away. And there he was.

  With shaky fingers, she opened the e-mail, totally aware of the way her heart pounded to read his every word, no matter what he might have to say.

  Sabrina,

  Lunch. King Pizza. Noon tomorrow.

  Conner

  Sabrina stared at the message forever. Short and…weird. Demanding while being soft at the same time. After all, he used his first name. And hers. He’d never used his first name with her. She’d known it from his university bio, but she’d always called him Dr. Bascott or Professor Bascott.

  What made the infuriating man think she was available for lunch tomorrow?

  She considered stomping up and down and pulling her hair out.

  Damn him.

  Her emotions were all over the place—as usual where Dr. Bascott was concerned. She wanted to both throttle the man and fuck him again at the same time.

  So bossy—which she loved and hated. In eight years she had never been with a Dom who was as blatantly controlling as Conner Bascott. Nor had she been with a Dom who made her panties wet every time she thought about him.

  And lately that was all the time.

  She needed to work.

  She closed the e-mail without answering it and opened the manuscript she was supposed to be editing.

  Focus.

  Think about the e-mail tomorrow.

  •●•

  At eleven fifty on Thursday morning, Sabrina sat in her car staring at the entrance to King Pizza. Really? Did the man have to pick this spot of all places? What was he trying to say?

  She’d gone back and forth ten times trying to decide if she should show up or not. She had not responded to his e-mail. Let him wonder.

  Even at this late hour, she was still uncertain about facing Conner and what she might say. The majority of her uncertainty stemmed from the fact she couldn’t imagine what he might say first. And she seriously doubted she would have the first or last word.

  She considered entering the restaurant late, but thought better of it. If he was the sort of Dom she suspected he was, he wouldn’t tolerate tardiness.

  Taking a deep breath, she stepped from the car into the October Vegas sun. It was warm out. She smoothed her hands down her T-shirt and smiled to herself. She had intentionally not dressed well. Jeans and the standard white tee were as far as she’d been willing to go this morning. Defiant? Yes. But the idea of putting a lot of effort into her appearance for this meeting made her cringe. She didn’t want to play that card and make him think she cared prematurely.

  She wasn’t altogether sure she did care yet. Depended on the next several minutes.

  When she entered the crowded pizza joint, she scanned the room. She didn’t see him.

  For the first time in twenty-four hours, it occurred to her he might not be there since she didn’t answer him. That possibility hadn’t really entered her mind.

  She stood tall and confident, focusing on her hands to avoid wringing them together or fisting them at her sides. The last thing she wanted was to appear weak.

  Weak had never described her. Not in any aspect of her life and not with any Dom. Until Conner. The blasted man brought out a strange side of her—one she hadn’t known existed.

  He caused her to feel discomposed. Apprehensive. And she hated it.

  “Just one?” a waitress questioned as Sabrina lifted onto her toes and glanced around again.

  “Umm.” She turned to the bleach-blonde, older woman, unsure how to respond. “I’m meeting someone. Though we may have gotten our signals crossed.”

  The woman smiled. “You want me to seat you? Or would you rather wait?”

  Sabrina considered her options and decided standing in the doorway waiting for Conner to show was wimpy. Nope. She needed to sit in order to avoid fidgeting. Hell, she needed a glass of wine ASAP to calm her nerves no matter what the day’s outcome was. “I’ll sit. Thanks.”

  “Follow me.” The woman nodded toward the room at large and turned.

  Sabrina trailed behind, trying to avoid looking around again. If he were there, she’d have spotted him.

  “This okay?” the kind woman asked. She glanced at the door. “Your friend should be able to easily spot you from here.”

  “It’s fine. Thanks.” Sabrina passed the waitress and sat on the opposite side of the booth so she could see the front door.

  “You want me to get you a drink while you wait?”

  “Please. The house Merlot would be perfect.”

  The blonde tapped the table. “Be right back.”

  The kind woman smiled and then walked away.

  Sabrina did her best to sit still. It was rare in her twenty-six years, but whenever she found herself in an uncomfortable situation, she always had trouble staying calm.

  Now was definitely one of those times.

  The sweet waitress returned with her wine. “Anything else?”

  “No. Thanks. I’ll look over the menu. If he doesn’t show, I’ll just enjoy lunch alone.” Sabrina smiled at the woman to ensure her she wasn’t a flight risk as far as eating and taking up space was concerned.

  “Okay. I’ll check with you in a few. Take your time.”

  There was no need to look at the menu. She knew it by heart. She’d been to King Pizza dozens of times. If Conner stood her up, she’d order a salad. If he showed…she probably wouldn’t be able to swallow.

  The best course of action was to pretend to look over the menu. Sitting up straight, she sipped her wine and leaned her face toward the plastic-coated list of pizzas, toppings, pastas, and salads.

  At ten after twelve, she began to doubt he would arrive.

  Interesting. Was he testing her? Or did he not show because she never responded? Probably the latter. However, on her behalf, he didn’t asked for a response. He simply presented her with a demand.

  She kept half an eye on the front door. No Conner Bascott.

  Her wine glass was half empty when a hand landed on her shoulder and gripped it before she lifted her gaze and Conner released her to slide onto the bench across from her.

  She took another fortifying sip and swallowed.

  “Do I make you nervous, Ms. Duluth?”

  He did. “No, Sir.” She flinched. Why had she chosen to call him Sir without him requesting it? She wished she could suck the word back as soon as it left her lips and refer to him as Professor or Dr. Bascott or even Conner. Anything but Sir. It presumed too much.

  He smiled and set his elbows on the table, narrowing his gaze at her. “You’re a crappy liar, Sabrina.”

  She knew that. In fact, even though she’d been born and raised in Vegas, she’d never gambled. Not with money anyway. She didn’t respond.

  “Let’s start over.”

  Where? Nine months ago, before he’d acted like she had the plague for the entire semester? Two months ago when he’d fucked her in the bathroom of this very establishment? Two weeks ago when she’d shown up at Extreme? Last Friday when they’d fought in his car?

  “You’re a crappy liar, baby.” His voice was lower. The way he said baby made her panties wet.

  Oh. That. So they were going back thirty seconds to start over. She swallowed again and nodded. “Always have been.”

  He smiled. “That’s better. I don’t tolerate lying.”

  She didn’t move, except to grip her pussy tight and squeeze her legs together. Otherwise, she didn’t even blink above the table.

  Holy shit.

  He had her number.

  The waitress returned. “He showed up. You didn’t have your days mixed up after all.” She beamed, and Sabrina turned to see her smiling broadly. “Can I get you a drink?” she asked, meeting Conner’s gaze.

  “Iced tea, please. No sugar.”

  “Got it.” The blonde turned and walked away.

  Sabrina’s face flamed.

  Conn
er lifted an eyebrow. “You lied to the waitress too?”

  Sabrina stared at him, and then she swallowed the last of the wine and set the glass on the table, glancing up to see if the sweet woman who had currently gotten her in trouble was still around.

  “That’s enough wine, baby. It’s noon. And you drove here.”

  What the hell? Now he was going to tell her what to drink?

  She squeezed her legs tighter, fighting the opposing sensations between her body’s traitorous reactions to him and her brain telling her to run away fast and never look back.

  Her body won.

  For now.

  “You’re squirming,” he stated.

  She wasn’t. Was she?

  She set her hands on her thighs under the table and squeezed, hoping to keep her legs from bouncing up and down if that was in fact the cause of his observation. She’d been known to shake her legs under the table. A nervous habit.

  “Look at me.”

  She jerked her gaze back to him, kicking herself for her instant reaction.

  He smiled. “Now we’re getting somewhere.”

  Where? Where are we getting? As far as Sabrina could tell, the only place she was “getting” was aroused and frustrated. And how had the tables turned on her so abruptly? The last two times she’d been in his presence had gone poorly. Now this?

  “You didn’t respond to my e-mail.”

  She licked her lips. She needed to speak. “You didn’t require a response.”

  “Touché.”

  “It looked like nothing more than a demand to me.”

  His smile grew wider. “And you followed my directive. I like that.”

  She needed to keep her mouth shut.

  “Tell me something.”

  “Yes?”

  “Is it true you only took that one class at the university last semester?”

  “Of course.” She furrowed her brow. “Why?”

  He stared at her. “So you aren’t currently enrolled in any classes?”

  She shook her head. “No. Why?”

  “It’s unethical for a teacher to date a student.”

  “Of course.” Her voice dipped lower as she spoke. He was simply covering his bases. That was reasonable. He should. She didn’t want to get him into any trouble. He may be an infuriating man, but she had no intention of doing anything to threaten his career.

  “Why did you follow me Friday night?” He startled her with this new line of questioning.

  Hadn’t they already covered this ground? “I was angry.”

  “Why did you follow me, Sabrina?”

  She hesitated. He was astute.

  “Baby,” he lowered his voice. “Why. Did. You. Follow. Me?”

  She bit the inside of her cheek and then met his gaze. “Curiosity.”

  “That’s better.” He gave her one of his smiles, the kind that melted her a little. “Are you always this nervous?”

  Damn his questions. “No.”

  “I didn’t think so.”

  He sat back a few inches when the waitress returned with his tea and a water. “Do you need a few minutes?” she asked, pulling a pad of paper out of her apron.

  Conner shifted his gaze to the woman. “What are your specials today?”

  The woman easily rattled off some sort of pasta dish while Sabrina kept her gaze on Conner. The last thing she had any interest in was food.

  “Perfect. We’ll have two of those.”

  Sabrina flinched. Did he just order for me?

  God.

  The man was so exasperating.

  “Where were we?” he asked, ignoring the fact he’d made a decision for her without knowing the first thing about her likes and dislikes. Hell, he didn’t even know if she had an allergy. “Oh, right. I make you nervous,” he stated.

  “You do not,” she lied.

  He narrowed his gaze again.

  She bit her lip. Fuck.

  Half of her wanted to run from the restaurant. Who cared if King Pizza was the best in town? She could live without pizza for the rest of her life. Easy.

  “Baby, our progress is very slow here.” He shook his head in dismay. “Do we have to go back to the lying? Why is it so difficult to admit what you’re feeling?”

  “Has anyone ever told you you’re irritating?”

  He chuckled. “Many times. In fact, several in the last few days.”

  “Well, they weren’t kidding. Do you always sit down with a woman and start a conversation with a series of demands?”

  He leaned closer. “Only when I know it’s what she wants and needs.”

  She couldn’t breathe. Damn it. “Shit.” She turned her gaze to the table.

  “What did I say about cussing?”

  She pursed her lips together and met his gaze again. “Dr. Bascott, I don’t remember agreeing to any sort of arrangement between us that limits what I can and can’t say.”

  “You didn’t have too, Ms. Duluth. Your agreement is obvious by your body language and the look on your face. Deny it?”

  She didn’t move an inch to respond. Shit. Again.

  “I cuss, Sir.”

  “Not anymore.”

  “It’s not something I can stop on a dime,” she retorted. “Especially when I’m so frustrated.”

  “You’ll find a way, or you’ll find it difficult to sit.” His words were pointed, and his gaze dug deep.

  Sabrina almost moaned. How humiliating? She squeezed her legs for the third time. Tighter. To no avail. Her pussy soaked her jeans, and her clit begged to be released from the denim confines.

  “Understood?”

  She found herself nodding. “Yes, Sir.”

  “How long have you been a submissive?”

  “Eight years.”

  “Since you turned eighteen?” He looked stunned.

  “Yes.”

  He paused. “That’s awfully young.”

  “I didn’t see it that way.”

  His brow furrowed. “Did you have a Dom?”

  “I did. He was the perfect teacher. I was devastated when he broke things off.”

  Conner inhaled deeply. “How old was he?”

  Sabrina hesitated, gnawing on her cheek again.

  “Answer me, baby.”

  “Forty.”

  “Fuck. Are you serious? That’s almost illegal.”

  “Almost, but not quite.” Why does he get to cuss?

  Conner closed his eyes, clearly fighting his furious response to the information. She couldn’t quite imagine why. “He took advantage of you, baby.”

  “He didn’t. I was a willing participant. More than that. Eager. And besides, after a few months when I realized I had fallen for him, he broke things off. I was hurt.”

  “Well, at least he had the good sense to let you go. Are you crazy? He could have been a predator. You could have been seriously hurt.”

  She frowned. “He was a member of the club I belong to. I didn’t pick him up on a street corner.”

  Conner shook his head. “Doesn’t matter. Do you think just because some guy is a member of a club, he’s on the up and up?”

  “Of course not, but I did my homework.” That wasn’t entirely true. She’d met Sir Jacob soon after she’d been old enough to enter the club and hadn’t really looked back once until he dumped her.

  “Riiight.” Conner rolled his eyes.

  Sabrina was saved from more of his interrogation by the arrival of their food.

  Conner sat back to give the waitress space to set their plates down. “Be careful. The plates are hot. Can I get you anything else?”

  “No. Thank you. We’re fine.” Conner smiled at her, making her smile back. Who wouldn’t? He was the sexiest man in the room, probably all of Vegas.

  As soon as the waitress left, Conner started his interrogation again. “How many Doms have you been with since then?”

  “A few.”

  “That’s vague, baby.”

  She blew out a breath, wiping her hands on her jean
s. She’d yet to glance down at their plates. “Enough to know what I like.”

  The smile that spread across his face was huge.

  She’d given him the wrong impression. Or had she?

  “Eat your lunch, Sabrina.” He tipped his gaze to his food and grabbed a fork.

  For the first time, Sabrina glanced down. It smelled delicious and it looked even better. And she wanted to throw a tantrum right there for Conner’s ability to select her meal.

  Nevertheless, she had no desire to act like a brat and give him any fuel to torment her with. It would be easier to ignore this slight and just eat her food.

  The first bite was divine, some sort of chicken dish with a white wine sauce and corkscrew pasta. Thank God she didn’t have to manhandle long noodles into submission.

  They ate in silence for several minutes.

  When Conner chuckled, Sabrina lifted her brows. “Something funny?”

  “You.”

  “What’d I do?”

  “Do you always moan like that when you eat?”

  She froze. “I do not.”

  He chuckled louder. “Don’t get me wrong. I love that you enjoy your food, but that little noise is making my cock press uncomfortably against my pants.”

  At first she was shocked, but then she realized nothing with Conner should shock her anymore. So she decided to goad him instead. On the next bite, she moaned intentionally around the fork as she slid it from her mouth. She let her eyes drift halfway closed and gripped the edge of the table, her head thrown back and her chest thrust forward as she gave a short When Harry Met Sally rendition.

  Conner dropped his fork with a clank.

  She struggled to swallow the bite, wondering if she’d gone too far. And wondering if she cared.

  “Are you always going to test me like this?”

  “Probably.” She reached for his ice tea, taking a long drink while he held her gaze. When she set the glass back down, she wasn’t sure she hadn’t pushed him too far.

  His gaze was piercing, his lips pursed. He gritted out his next words. “I’m sure you think you’re cute. Hell, even I think you’re cute. But trust me when I say there will always be consequences for your actions, even when we aren’t in an appropriate location for those consequences at the time. Am I understood?” His assumption that their relationship as a Dom and sub was a foregone conclusion both infuriated her and made her want to kneel at his feet.