When she didn’t rise quickly enough to suit him, he slapped her exposed buttocks. Her behind still held a slightly reddish hue and the impact made a visible handprint on her skin.
Macy’s scream was muffled by the pillow under her face. The man was a cad.
She rolled herself over. Her ass felt like it was on fire. She watched the flex of his lean hips as he walked barefoot to the bathroom. Macy could feel the now familiar stirring of her body just from looking at him. She’d turned into such a wanton.
He turned and caught her staring. Macy blushed and Logan grinned wickedly.
“Like the view, Miss Trent?”
There it was again, that low, sexy growl that made her want to fling herself at him.
But that was probably against the rules.
Macy opened her mouth, then closed it. What could she say? Denial would be pointless.
“While I take a quick shower, find yourself something to wear. In public.”
“Why?” The word popped out before she could stop herself.
“I’m taking you shopping.”
“Shopping?” Her thoughts couldn’t shift that quickly.
“New undergarments, Miss Trent.” He walked back and helped her off the bed. “I want to see that luscious body in sexy lingerie.”
Macy blushed at his words, the views she had about her body image nowhere close to being ready to model lingerie of any kind.
“Don’t even think it.”
Macy looked up in surprise.
“I know what you’re about to say and I’m instituting a new rule. No more self-doubt about your body, Macy. If a woman can make a man as hard as you just made me, she shouldn’t doubt her sex appeal.”
CHAPTER THREE
Macy was incredibly nervous as she sat beside Logan in the plush interior of his foreign car. The dash looked like something from a sci-fi set and the heated seats were more comfortable than the couch in her small efficiency apartment.
“Put your seatbelt on, Miss Trent.”
“You really have a thing about straps and restraints don’t you?”
Crap. Where had that come from?
She knew. It was the feeling she suddenly had of being a low-class call girl to some ultra-wealthy and urbane man. Kind of like in Pretty Woman except without the fairytale ending.
“Tsk, tsk, Miss Trent. Don’t state the obvious.”
Macy was glad that he hadn’t taken offense at her acid tone. Really, she didn’t want to upset him. And she didn’t want to be upset. She had only a little time left with him and she didn’t want to spend it fighting him or her feelings of inadequacy. They’d shared a hurried breakfast-slash-lunch of cold cereal and toast before leaving. He’d given her a brief kiss afterwards and promised to make it up to her with the next meal. He’d been attentive and charming, showing her a side of himself that, no doubt, had women begging to be his submissive.
When he leaned over and fastened the strap for her, Macy’s body started its usual throb at his closeness. If she leaned forward just a bit, her lips would graze his strong jaw. She inhaled the fresh scent of his hair and the heavenly fragrance of his aftershave.
He flicked the strap securing her. “No getting away from me now, Miss Trent.” One long finger traced her jaw. “We may have to push your education along and try the harness before the weekend is over.”
What? Images that she’d seen on the internet flashed through her mind. And made her pussy weep.
Macy watched Logan buckle himself in and start the powerful car with the touch of a button. The dash lit up like the com on the starship Enterprise.
“Here we go, sweetheart.” The powerful engine purred softly. His big hands on the wheel sure, guiding the car with practiced ease.
Just like he guided her body. He’d twisted and turned her so many ways, she was still struggling to keep up.
She was glad he wasn’t one of those dominates who didn’t like to be touched. He had too gorgeous of a body not to allow exploration. She knew that quirk usually came from some type of abuse the person had suffered in childhood. Not that she was an expert, but Macy didn’t think Logan exhibited any of those signs.
“What has you thinking so hard, Miss Trent?”
Should she broach the subject?
“You can ask me.” His lips quirked upward.
“Ask you what?” Macy stalled.
“Why I enjoy the dominant/submissive lifestyle.” His smile was all-knowing. “That is what’s on your mind, isn’t it?” He looked away from the road, his dark gaze capturing hers, pulling the word from her.
“Why?” Her voice was a soft whisper in the quiet confines of the expensive car.
“It’s not for the pain.” His voice was equally soft. Reassuring.
“I realize that.” Funny, but she did.
“Oh? How is that?”
“Because you haven’t hurt me.”
“Haven’t I?” Again the quick grin that displayed sexy twin dimples. “Your sweet little ass isn’t still tingling?”
She squirmed on the seat. Her buttocks were tender to the touch, the pressure of sitting adding to her discomfort.
“I don’t pay a woman so I can inflict pain on her. That would be truly deviant. I pay the women I choose so that I can have sex the way I like it. That’s all I want.”
Maybe Macy had been wrong. Just because he had no physical hang-ups didn’t mean he hadn’t suffered as a child. The need to form close emotional attachments was a natural part of living. Logan apparently didn’t think so.
“Where exactly are we going?”
Macy watched the sexy grin spread once more across his mobile lips. He didn’t look at her but kept his eyes on traffic. “We’ll be there shortly.”
“You like this, don’t you?”
“What?” This time he did look at her.
She shrugged, unsure of how to articulate what she meant without hurting his ego. “Being…impressive.”
He gave a short bark of laughter and the sound startled Macy. She didn’t know if she’d ever heard him laugh before. “Am I impressive, Miss Trent?”
“You know you are, Mr. Quinn.”
In so many ways.
“I’ve never taken a woman shopping before. This is definitely a first for me.” His eyes were back on the road, his jaw clenched as though he hated making the admission.
Macy’s breath hitched. That wasn’t what she’d expected. She’d thought this was something normal, or at least a part of the whole dominate/submissive relationship. Buying expensive clothing, extravagant meals. Lord only knew the number of roses and diamond necklaces she’d ordered over the past year. Well, not that many really. Logan was selective in his choice of partners. It had just seemed like a lot of women since every time he switched, another crack in her heart appeared.
Her hands curled around the edges of the seat, gripping the soft leather tightly as she contemplated shopping for bras and panties with this man. Even though he’d seen every part of her body, she was afraid she’d fail him in some way, or that he’d find her lacking in a way that he hadn’t noticed before. And that it would end their time together before the weekend was over.
She drew in a deep breath, forcing herself to calm down.
Commitment. Discipline.
Logan Quinn wanted to see her in sexy lingerie and he wanted to do so badly enough to get personally involved in the process. That was something wasn’t it?
“We’re here.”
Logan’s deep voice pulled her from her anxious thoughts. Macy gazed out the window at the storefront, her mouth dropping open. Sweet heavens.
“This is…Pampered Elegance.” Macy blinked, trying to wrap her mind around Logan’s definition of nice underthings. She couldn’t even afford their catalog.
Another soft peal of laughter floated across the space and she frowned. What did the man find so amusing?
“The designer is a personal friend of mine.”
Of course he is.
“Out, Mi
ss Trent.”
Macy wiped the awestruck look from her face and gave him her hand as he helped her from the car. Trying to assume a look of nonchalance and failing miserably, Macy allowed herself to be led into the upscale store. Immediately, a striking woman with an air of total authority approached them.
“Logan, darling, how nice to see you again after all this time.”
Surprise swept some of the awe from Macy’s frazzled brain. Hadn’t Logan told her he’d never done this before?
“Madame Tremayne, it is a pleasure to see you. You look stunning as always.” He bent to kiss the elegant hand of the older woman and Macy was astounded by the force of her jealousy. She had the sudden and overwhelming desire to pull out every strand of the woman’s carefully upswept hairdo.
“This is the one you told me about?” Madame Tremayne’s voice was rich velvet; her cultured tone almost masking the look of disbelief shining in her golden eyes.
What? Didn’t the woman approve of her outfit? Black t-shirt, sweat pants a size too small, and sedate black pumps? She’d had no other clothing or shoes. Macy hated the way the woman’s look made her feel.
“Tatianna, this is my…protégé, Macy Trent.” His mobile lips quirked into a smile that said he was more than pleased with himself. The smugness only added fuel to Macy’s quick-fire temper. Did doms like to show off their latest acquisition?
And just when had Logan talked about her to the other woman? Had she been the subject of one of the many calls he’d made this morning? The anger coursing through her veins had her completely off balance. She doubted Madame Tremayne had been expecting a woman who wore a size eighteen. In fact, Macy was doubtful the boutique even carried anything in her size at all. How embarrassing would that be? Before she could ask to speak with Logan privately, he held out his hand and Macy found herself taking it reflexively. He pulled her forward, forcing her to acknowledge the other woman.
“How do you do?”
“I am very pleased to meet you, Miss Trent.” The woman immediately returned her attention to Logan. “If I could speak with you for a moment, darling?”
Macy watched the older woman walk away, her narrow hips swaying provocatively under her expensive satin dress. No doubt she was about to inform Logan that she had nothing that would fit his new…protégé. Macy’s brow furrowed. Was that a code word for ‘temporary submissive’? The woman’s cool elegance was the perfect foil for Logan. Even in casual kakis and a blue polo, he reeked of money. The polo was tucked in, his slim waist encircled by a belt she’d bet had cost more than her sister’s entire back-to-school wardrobe.
The ease with which Logan and the older woman conversed gave testament to the fact that they were friends, but the coquettish undertone and constant touching of Logan’s arm by the woman’s well-manicured hand, indicated that there was—or once had been—much more than friendship between the two. Macy frowned as the two urbane, sophisticated people continued to murmur low words, exchange meaningful glances and ignore her altogether. Jealousy morphed her anger higher and Macy felt the urge to hit one or both of them. Preferably Madame X.
Their conversation continued, this time with glances thrown her way. Madame Tramp—as Macy had secretly dubbed her—made gestures with her hands as if outlining a woman’s figure. No doubt telling Logan Macy couldn’t possibly fit into anything her exclusive shop had to offer.
The woman gave her one last haughty stare then turned away, her voice now loud enough to carry to where Macy stood.
“If you’re sure, Logan, I’ll go get the garments I’ve picked out.”
“I’m sure.” When she was out of sight, Logan walked back to Macy, a curious gleam in his eye.
Injured pride and jealousy spurred her tongue into action “If you two would like to be alone, I can always grab a taxi and go back to my apartment.”
One black brow arched. “Tatianna is an old friend of mine.”
“How old?” Macy almost felt ashamed at the snippy comment.
Logan took her arm and pulled her against his chest. “Claws in Miss Trent. Cattiness does not become you. If you aren’t careful, I’ll have to punish you. Again. Is that what you want? Do you want me bare your bottom and spank you in front of everyone? In front of Tatianna?”
Macy pulled away, uncaring if she was risking his wrath. Let him try to spank her in front of anyone. “Apparently your friend doesn’t think I become you. So I guess we’re even.”
“You’re jealous.” Macy watched his eyes widen with the realization, her face going beet red. She wished she could deny his words, but it was the truth.
“I have no claim on you, Mr. Quinn.” She picked a loose thread from the t-shirt she’d worn, using the excuse so she wouldn’t have to look at him. It covered the utilitarian bra she was apparently here to replace. She’d washed her panties as she waited for her punishment. They’d still been damp, so she had nothing on under the jogging pants she’d also borrowed. They fit snug across her hips and stomach, something she was sure Tatianna had noticed. What kind of frigging name was Tatianna anyway? “We have one more day of our…arrangement, and then you’re free to move on to whomever you please.” The words were hard to say through the pain in her chest. She didn’t know what she’d do once her time with Logan was over. He’d proven to be everything she’d ever imagined and more.
She felt his hand on her chin, forcing her reluctant gaze up to his. “Tatianna and I had a sexual relationship a long time ago.” He tipped her head back, bending low to kiss her briefly. Macy felt the familiar tingle all the way to her toes. “It was over quickly—and by mutual agreement. We’ve remained friends.”
“Okay,” Macy murmured, trying to absorb the fact that Logan was explaining himself to her. What did that mean?
He opened his mouth to speak again but was interrupted by Tatianna’s reappearance.
“I’ve put several sets in the viewing room that I think will suit your, er, friend.”
Macy didn’t even react to the snotty tone. She was still reeling from Logan’s uncharacteristic behavior. He turned smoothly, smiling at the woman, cool and composed as though he hadn’t just rocked her entire world. Little by little, his guard was lowering. If only she had more time.
Her intuition told her they’d go back to square one come Monday morning unless she broke through his icy wall of control.
Logan turned away. “I certainly hope so.”
Madame Tremayne smiled charmingly at Logan. Her bejeweled fingers wrapped around his bicep, giving it a squeeze. Macy again had to resist the urge to stab the woman between her eyes. Logan was hers. At least for the next thirty hours or so.
The bastard returned her smile and squeezed the woman’s hand, pressing it into his arm. No doubt he was flexing beneath the spindly fingers.
“Thank you. I’m sure they will be perfect. You always had exquisite taste, my love.”
The woman hesitated as if wanting to say more, then cleared her throat. “Well, I’ll leave you two alone. Please let me know when you’re done.”
“We will.”
Logan watched until Tatianna disappeared then turned to Macy. “We have half an hour, Miss Trent. I suggest we get started.”
Macy shifted uncomfortably. The time had come. Taking a deep breath, she followed him as he strode to the back of the show room to what she assumed was the “viewing” room. What the heck did that mean?
A velvet curtain the color of gold hung over the entrance. Inside was a beautiful leather chair and plush, thick carpeting. The walls were covered with mirrors. Great. Another three-hundred-and-sixty degrees of show and tell torture. She was certain Madame Slut had picked the most embarrassing items she could find.
In thirty minutes it will all be over.
The sliding of the curtain made her jump. She turned around to face Logan. He stood by the entrance and suddenly she realized they were all alone. There had been no other customers in the store and she vaguely wondered if he had paid for a private appointment.
&n
bsp; “Miss Trent?”
She swallowed and answered. “Yes sir?”
He smiled, the look in his eyes going predatory at her obedient response. “I’ll want to see everything.”
You already have.
Macy nodded and hurried into the dressing room. Closing the louvered door, she leaned against the wall, breathing deeply.
“Tick-tock, Miss Trent,” he called.
Shit.
Throwing off her clothing, Macy dragged on a pair of blue satin panties, the cut showing off the length of her legs and dipping low on her hips. The material felt like silk but was made of some other type of material that stretched. And firmed. She turned sideways studying her body. She didn’t look half bad. The matching bra pushed her breasts together, filling the cups to overflowing. With her heart in her mouth, she opened the door and stepped out.
“Do you want me to come closer?” Macy wasn’t sure her shaking legs were going to carry her if he said yes.
“No. Turn for me, please.”
Macy complied, her bones going liquid at the gravelly sound of his deep voice. He was aroused. Suddenly she had no problem with her legs. The passion in his voice strengthened her body and spirit. He liked what he saw.
Macy turned around, putting her hands on her wide hips, a flirty “what-do-you-think” look on her face. “Well?”
“That’s definitely a keeper, Miss Trent. Now let’s see something else.”
Of the next four sets, he approved three. It was down to the last one and Macy’s legs now shook for a totally different reason. With each exhibit, he’d grown more aroused and his growing need ignited her own. Sexual tension thickened the air like smoke in a closed room.
The final two pieces of lingerie consisted of a string bikini-type panty that left her bottom bare and didn’t even begin to cover her mound. The bra was a bit of frothy lace, barely covering the tips of her nipples. Instead of feeling exposed, Macy felt incredibly sexy. Her skin burned for Logan’s touch and her breathing came in short gasps as she imagined the graze of his long fingers as he peeled away the small scraps of material.
Drawing a deep breath, she exited the wide dressing cubicle.
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