“Stop teasing me.”
This time his laugh was full and more robust, like he was having more fun than he’d expected. “I’m not teasing you.”
“Then tell me how ‘evil’ you are? What do you do to your subs? Do you just tie them up? Cuff them to the bed and slap a flogger on their backs, then fuck them? Do you have your own dungeon? Is it just about kinky fuckery with you? Or is this a lifestyle choice you live twenty-four seven?”
She had so many questions. She had never met a Dom before. Now that she had, and he’d pleasured her with nothing more than his voice, she wasn’t ready to let him go.
“You do know a thing or two about the lifestyle, don’t you?” he replied. “Are you a submissive?”
“No.”
“Then how do you know so much?”
“I’ve done my research.”
“For the books you write?”
“Yes.”
“I might have to read one of those.”
Was he serious?
“Feel free. I write under the name Lillian Bangs.”
He paused briefly as if he was writing it down. “Lillian Bangs?”
“Yes.”
“Bangs? As in, getting banged?”
She smiled at his tongue-in-cheek tone. “Very good.”
“I like it.”
“It’s easy to remember and fits my brand.”
“You write about BDSM?”
“Yes.”
He made an appreciative noise. “Mm, look at these covers. Very sexy.”
“You’ve looked up my books?” Warren didn’t waste any time.
“Impressive. You’ve got a lot of five-star reviews.”
She had worked hard for those five-star reviews too.
“Which book do you recommend I read first?” he asked.
“You’re seriously going to read my books?”
“Of course.”
It was always scary putting her work out there, but especially scary to put her books into the hands of a man. And even scarier now that she knew he lived the lifestyle she wrote about.
But it wasn’t like she had a reason to be worried. Plenty of her readers who were both Doms and submissives had messaged her to compliment her on how she represented the leather lifestyle. Some had even thought she was in the lifestyle herself, because she had written so accurately about it. But while she often fantasized about being a submissive, she had never actually been one. She’d never even seen a real dungeon.
“My books are written more for a female audience.”
“I don’t mind.”
“But—”
“If you don’t make a recommendation, I’ll just have to buy them all.”
“What?”
There was a long pause.
“What are you doing?” she said.
More silence.
“You’re not seriously buying all my books.” She had published eight novels and three novellas. Surely, he had more important things to do than read her—
“Done,” he said.
Her jaw dropped. “You bought them all?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because I said I would, and you didn’t make a recommendation. And I want to read them.”
She wasn’t sure whether she should be ecstatic at selling eleven books in less than a minute or scared that a full-fledged Dom was going to read her attempts at representing the BDSM lifestyle accurately and in a good light.
What if she had gotten it all wrong despite all the reassurances from her readers that she hadn’t? What if her books offended him?
She didn’t want tonight to be the first and last time she would experience the pleasure of hearing his voice.
“I hope you enjoy them,” she said, trying not to feel too fatalistic.
“I’m sure I will.” More silence, then, “Ms. Bangs, why don’t you have any pictures of yourself posted on your Facebook page?”
Jenna bolted upright, making the anal plug pop out. She was too alarmed that he was prowling her on social media to acknowledge the brief stab of discomfort. “You’re on my Facebook page?” She hadn’t even considered the possibility that he would look her up when she’d given him her pseudonym.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“I’m curious.”
“About what I look like?”
“Among other things.” He made a pensive noise. “But, alas, no pictures. Why is that?”
She had purposely not posted pictures of herself to keep both her family and her coworkers from learning about her “side project.” Not only were her parents devout Christians who would never understand how she could write such “sinful” stories, but she hadn’t wanted to risk losing her job if anyone at work ever found out what she did in her off-time. And after discovering that she had coworkers who read her books, she’d been right to be cautious.
It was just a matter of time before the truth came out, and she would own it when it did, but for now, she enjoyed the anonymity.
“Let’s just say that I’m trying to keep my life as an author separate from my personal life.”
“I can respect that.” He paused. “Of course, now I’m curious about what you look like.”
“Does it matter?”
“Not really, but you know what they say about curiosity.”
“That it killed the cat?”
He laughed. “Well that, too, but no. I was referring to the saying ‘Curiosity is the beginning of all wisdom.’ But since you brought up that curiosity killed the cat, did you know that’s not the whole saying?”
“It isn’t?”
“No. The saying is actually ‘Curiosity killed the cat, but satisfaction brought it back.’”
“You’re just making that up.”
“Google it.”
“Don’t think I won’t.”
“I know you will.”
“Fine. What’s your point?”
“That I still want to know what you look like.”
She laughed at how deftly he circled the conversation back to where they’d started. “Would you like me to tell you?”
“Please.”
She glanced down at her firm, lean stomach and perky breasts, more grateful than ever that she worked out six days a week. “Do you want the truth or a lie?”
“Never lie to me.”
She arched one eyebrow at the commanding way he said that. As if he abhorred lies and would be very displeased to learn she’d been untruthful with him about anything at all, no matter how inconsequential.
“Only if you never lie to me either,” she said. This had to be a two-way street, or she wouldn’t play along.
“I wouldn’t be much of a Dom if I were a liar.” He issued an impish chuff. “Of course, I might choose to withhold information, because that’s what good Doms do. We withhold certain things from our submissives so we can all have our fun.”
“Of course,” she said wryly.
His
