Chasing Brynn (A Tempting Novel Book 2)

by Angela Corbett

  “Really?” I asked, sincerely interested. “I’ve never thought of that before.”

  “When a child learns, a lot of the process is visual. If the child is blind, they’re literally in the dark, and have no idea how to navigate this new place, or what the terrain is. Even walking is hard. They have to go through physical therapy to learn to put their feet out flat. They don’t understand what they’re stepping on, so they constantly curl their toes and feet up. They can hear, but without a visual reference to figure out where the noise is coming from, they can’t pinpoint location. Hand-eye coordination doesn’t work, so they have to learn to coordinate by hand-ear, and that takes longer. Until they do that, they typically won’t move around to explore the area they’re in. As they get older, even speaking is a challenge because they can’t see lips to mimic others, and learn how to form words.”

  I was captivated by his explanations. “That’s fascinating! I had no idea.”

  “I’m your go-to source for strange trivia.”

  “It’s not strange, it’s really interesting. Where did you learn all of that?”

  “I read a lot.”

  I heard a creaking across the floorboards, which had felt solid under my feet on the way in. I assumed the floors were wood. The servers put our drinks down and moved our hands to show us the location of the glasses before stepping away again.

  “So, A,” Master Z said, “should I call you A?”

  “Sure, why not, Z.”

  I swore I could feel his smile from across the table.

  “Are you wearing the red lipstick?”

  My lips curved up as I lifted my drink to my mouth, trying not to spill it all over me. Before the night was through, I was going to end up wearing my whole dinner. I didn’t even want to see myself when we walked out of here. “I am.”

  “It looked good on you at the party.”

  “Thank you.”

  Two servers came to the table and placed our salads in front of us. They explained where the bowls were, and used our hands to show us the location. Then they placed our hands on the silverware, indicating where our knives and forks were. I lifted my fork, gingerly stabbing at my lettuce, hoping I’d get something on the tines. I brought it to my lips, completely miscalculating the location of my mouth, and then started laughing.

  “Miss your mouth?” Z asked, his tone amused.

  “So hard.”

  He started to laugh too, a deep, throaty sound that seemed vaguely familiar, as I cleaned up the mess on my face—at least, I hoped I had.

  “I thought it would be a good way to get to know each other,” he said. “Heighten the senses.”

  As if my senses needed any more heightening. They were primed, and ready for release. They just didn’t know which guy they wanted giving the release to them.

  “What did you think of the back room at the Sin and Sass party?”

  I had a lot of thoughts about it, none of which I wanted to be reminded of unless Master Z had plans for getting naked in the dark as well. “It was a learning experience,” I said, images from the night flashing through my head even now. “What did you think?”

  “I enjoyed it…until my partner left.”

  I shrugged, even though he couldn’t see me. “Sorry about that.” My tone was apologetic. “I didn’t know it was you, and I had some things I needed to figure out. Being there wasn’t helping.”

  I took another bite of food, this one more successful. “How did you know it was me?”

  “I wasn’t sure, but your lipstick was a hint. You’ve mentioned it on your blog a few times.”

  That didn’t seem like a legit explanation. There were a lot of girls wearing red lipstick. I mean, none of their lips sparkled like mine, but still. “Almost everyone there was wearing red or pink lipstick. It was a Valentine’s Day party.”

  “I took a chance.”

  I wasn’t buying it. My lipstick couldn’t have been his only hint. I worried my hands in my lap. I had a niggling feeling Master Z knew who I really was, and I wished I could figure out how. “Kind of a big risk to take. I could have been someone else entirely, and then you could have been punched. You almost were anyway.”

  He laughed again, a rich, full tone, and again, I got the feeling I’d heard it before. “No risk, no reward.”

  I recognized the line. He’d said it before. So had Cade. I sat there in the dark analyzing my competitor. It didn’t escape my notice that the conversation I was now having with Master Z was incredibly similar to the one I’d had with Cade. I narrowed my eyes, wondering if maybe the two of them knew each other. I’d considered that Cade might be Master Z on more than one occasion, but the Sin and Sass party had cemented them as two separate people in my mind. I’d left Z at the party only to walk outside and run straight into Cade, who looked nothing like Z had, and was wearing completely different clothes than Z had been when I’d escaped the sex room. Maybe there was another connection between them though.

  The servers brought out our entrées next, going through the same routine, showing us where the food was located on the plate. One of these times, I’d get the food to actually make it into my mouth without any collateral damage. “I do not excel at this.” I wiped my face for the fiftieth time. “I’m going to have to practice eating with a blindfold at home.”

  “I’d be happy to help.”

  I smiled, wishing I could see his face. I liked him, and liked flirting with him in person even more than over text. “I might be willing to let you.”

  “I could lay you across this table right now and give you the best orgasm of your life.”

  I almost choked on the water I’d been attempting to drink. Luckily I hadn’t gotten much in my mouth before he decided to put orgasms on the menu.

  “The other people eating might not enjoy that.”

  “Not my problem.”

  I gave a soft laugh. “I guess we could use the excuse that we’re doing research.”

  “Or tell them the truth: that I’ve been thinking about fucking you for months.”

  I almost choked again. “Jesus, Z! You have to warn me before you say stuff like that.”

  He laughed and changed the subject, “What do you like most about your job?”

  I thought about it before answering, “It’s fun; I like that aspect. And I love sex, so it doesn’t feel like a job. I get to do something I’m passionate about. I enjoy talking about sex and giving advice, but most of all, I like that it’s helping people. Those are my favorite emails to get; the ones where people say they’ve learned something, or that because of something I posted, they sought help from a doctor or therapist for an issue they were having. Helping people is rewarding.”

  “I like that too,” he said. “Helping people.”

  We were silent for a few minutes as we ate, then I said, “As much as I hated you for copying me at first, I do think it’s smart for people to have a male perspective. I can talk for days about what women want; but I can only guess, or use my own knowledge base, to figure out what men need.”

  “I’m glad,” he said. “After your first blog post addressing me, I didn’t think we’d ever be able to have a dialogue.”

  I snorted a laugh. “Oh, getting me to respond will never be a problem.”

  I didn’t mean it to sound sexual, but it did. He chuckled softly. “That’s something I’ve never questioned. I’m certain you’re a girl who knows exactly how to get off, and can instruct any guy who can’t figure it out.”

  My traitor cheeks heated, and I was overwhelmingly glad for the darkness. “I am,” I said, owning it. I knew what I liked and had no qualms with getting it. “But what I meant was that I have no problem speaking my mind, especially when I’m pissed. If you can’t handle honesty, you shouldn’t have any sort of relationship with me because I’m all about truth and calling people on bullshit.”

  He laughed. “I figured that out from your writing.”

  “And you still asked me on a date. Brave man.”

&
nbsp; “Like I said, no risk, no reward. And to tell you the truth, I have a thing for strong, outspoken women.”

  Again, an opinion he shared with Cade—and Collin, for that matter.

  They brought out dessert—a chocolate cake with chocolate ganache frosting, drowning in a heavenly sauce. I took one bite to be nice since he’d ordered it, and then another because it was so damn delightful. Then I had two more just to spite Cade for saying I was letting my clothing size dictate my self-worth.

  “Chocolate,” he said, his tone playful. “We’re increasing your dopamine levels as we speak.”

  I grinned at that. “I’m glad you’ve been reading my posts.”

  “Always. And I’ve been meaning to ask you a question.”

  Something started rubbing up against my leg. For a minute, I wondered if a stray cat had wandered into the house, but then I realized it felt like a foot, covered in a sock, and it was moving up my leg…slowly. I ran my tongue over my lips and decided that I liked experiencing Master Z’s naughty side in person.

  “What turns you on?” he asked, his voice low.

  I moved my other foot, rubbing his leg in return.

  “A lot of things,” I said, thinking about it and getting distracted by his touch. “Mystery, adventure, men willing to try new things. What turns you on, Z?”

  He moved his foot a little higher, caressing my leg as he went. “Girls with glittery red lips.”

  I could feel the heat rising in my cheeks, and was again grateful for the lack of light.

  “What,” he said, his foot now between my legs, “do you think the chances are of me getting to see you naked? In person? In the light?”

  At the moment, with his foot doing lovely things between my thighs, the chances were high. But I didn’t want to get ahead of myself and agree to something I wasn’t ready for. Naked, in person, was a guarantee he’d see me. All of me. And would know who I was.

  “I think…” I said, moving my own foot between his thighs, “that it’s becoming more of a possibility.”

  His toes wiggled and the seam of my jeans pressed in. “How much of a possibility…do you think? Percentage wise.”

  “Hmmm,” I said, rubbing my foot over the bulge in his jeans. It was large. As large as I remembered it being at Sin and Sass and I was impressed all over again. My cocktail weenie streak seemed to be over. “I’d say at least fifty percent.”

  “What would I have to do to get that number higher?”

  I bit my lip and answered, “Surprise me.”

  His chair scraped across the wood floor, and somehow, summoning superhero sight, he managed to make it over to my side of the table without knocking or tipping anything over. His hands cupped my face, his thumb stroking my cheek. His breath scorched me as he moved closer, and his lips pressed into mine in a passionate kiss, our tongues twisting as heat seared my body. I rose off the chair toward him, wanting more of him. My hands ran over a hard chest, down a stomach that rippled with muscle. He was strong, and I wanted to see him, touch him, without the barrier of clothes. I was totally on board with the orgasm on the table plan if he was. He pulled back, his breath hot on my neck and I could hear the smile in his voice as he answered my challenge, “I can do that.”

  The date with Master Z hadn’t ended with sex. I still wasn’t ready to reveal myself to anyone other than Syd. Master Z had taken it well, better than I would have. Better than I did, in fact. I felt like I had blue ovaries, instead of balls, for the rest of the night, and I’d had to spend a significant amount of time with one of my vibrators. It got the job done, but it still hadn’t compared to the sexual fireworks I knew I would have gotten if I’d ended up in a bed—or on a table—with Z.

  I’d replayed the night in my head several times, and had come to the conclusion that something was off. In the back of my mind, something about the kiss with Master Z seemed incredibly familiar. I’d paid attention to the feeling, and his technique. Between the kiss, and the voice I thought I’d recognized, Master Z had to be someone I knew. I was even more curious about it now, and couldn’t wait for my genius IT friend to get back to me with his investigation results.

  The rest of the week flew by. It was Friday morning, and almost time for my date with Cade. I hadn’t seen him since last weekend, and he hadn’t made much of an effort to get in touch with me. I thought it was strange, but I didn’t understand his ways. If I’d been in charge, we would have had sex months ago, and this whole situation would be over and done with.

  I had, however, heard from Master Z. Several times. My lips curved up just thinking about it. The fact we still hadn’t visually seen each other was kind of hot. It lent an air of mystery to the relationship that made it feel dangerous and exciting. I’d really enjoyed our date, and thought he’d done an excellent job planning it. Our messages throughout the week had been flirty, and we were going out again on Sunday. Maybe it made me a bad person for dating two different guys in the same weekend—both of which I wanted to screw. But I wasn’t exclusive with either one of them, and I wasn’t going to feel bad about that. My new mantra was “no guilt.”

  I’d just finished writing a Mistress A post and was about to shut down my laptop when an email popped up from my IT friend.

  It was short. Two sentences to be exact. Two sentences that would be engraved on my brain for the rest of my life.

  Took some time to trace things, but I found Master Z.

  His name is Cade Brett.

  Tips and Tits: The Word from Mistress A

  Tassels and G-strings

  One weekend in Vegas—full of alcohol and poor decisions—I saw a male review show. The strippers were definitely not a part of those poor decisions, however, and I will always fondly remember the three minutes, thirty-seven seconds when I was tied up and manhandled by a rather large man pretending to be a vampire.

  *Pause*

  See, I even took a break from writing this post to think about it again.

  I’m not going to name the particular show we saw, but there were bowties involved. And abs. Good lord, the abs. I don’t think any man on stage (or the ones jumping off to dance with the audience) had more than three percent body fat. I wanted to feel bad for their lack of carb intake, but all I could do was stare and whisper thank you to their trainers. These guys did things with chairs, beds, and even motorcycles that should truly be included as Olympic sports. I’m fairly confident in my abundance of sexual knowledge, but I witnessed positions I didn’t even know bodies were capable of contorting into. There are still songs I can’t hear without my mind immediately being taken back to that stage and those buck naked, perfect asses, nothing but a flimsy piece of cotton or hat covering them. For women, the show is all about the story. The fantasy and the feeling the men on stage create, as well as the ability to lose yourself in a visual orgasm that promises nothing but pleasure later. Men are different. They’re visual and could generally care less about whether there’s a story, or if it makes sense, as long as someone’s naked and they get to see some boobs (or ass, depending on their sexual preference). If you’re not comfortable with a strip club (though I recommend trying it at least once if you and your partner are both willing), grab some tickets to a burlesque show instead. Burlesque shows are just as titillating—pun intended—with enough story for women to be engaged, and enough boobs and ass for men to enjoy themselves. Go if you’re single, and definitely go if you’re in a relationship. Trying new things is the key to building your bond, and staying happy long-term.

  My mouth fell open and didn’t go back into normal resting position for a good ten minutes. The rest of the day, I wandered around with the email on repeat in my head. “I found Master Z. His name is Cade Brett.”

  Like every other man I knew, Cade’s name had crossed my mind as a Master Z candidate, but I’d quickly pushed him down on the list. Number one, he was a law school student. He was busy. He didn’t have time to be running a sex advice blog—which I knew first hand. That fact probably explained why his po
sts weren’t as frequent as mine. Number two, he just didn’t seem like the type. I knew another side of him now, but the buttoned-up counselor was the image I’d always have as a go-to in my mind.

  But thinking back on it, there had been clues all along. The similar voices—though Master Z’s was deeper, something I was sure Cade did on purpose—and they both had the same tall, muscular body type. I’d spent enough time ogling Cade that his body alone should have given him away. There was also the way Cade had responded to things Mistress A had posted. He always knew about my most recent posts and had opinions, and was well-versed in everything sex-related himself. I would have paid more attention, and probably figured it out on my own if it hadn’t been for the Sin and Sass party. His hair had been black, his eye color was changed, and he’d been wearing a mask. When I left for the rest room, he must have ditched the wig, mask, contacts, and clothes, and switched to his alter ego, Counselor Cade. Tricky, tricky.

  I’d told Master Z he needed to surprise me. He definitely had. Now the question was: what was I going to do about it? I’d been working on my poker face, but felt like it wasn’t going to be helpful in this situation. When my emotions are strong, they’re always etched across my expression. I’m the type of person who can’t stand holding feelings in, and would rather get it all out in the open and deal with issues. I couldn’t decide how to bring it up, though…a punch to the stomach as soon as I saw him? I was pissed he hadn’t just told me, but then, I hadn’t told him my secret either so I couldn’t be too upset. I was almost positive that he knew Mistress A was me, however. I was annoyed he hadn’t approached me about it, or come clean about his Alpha activities. We had plans today…he’d be picking me up soon. I sunk into the couch, staring blankly out the front window and blew out a long breath. I had about six hours to decide what to do.

  Cade picked me up at exactly four o’clock. A late snow storm was forecast for tonight, and snow was starting to fall lightly, like cotton from the sky. I tried to hide my annoyance about Cade’s secret keeping as I got in the car, buckled my seatbelt and settled in, but my expression must have come off as suspicious because he looked right at me and asked, “Is something wrong?”