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I waited for a moment until I was sure we were well and truly finished. Then I pocketed my phone and went back to work, my break over.

This is no longer just a scene, is it?

Quinn

It wasn’t until I reached the main door of Max’s block that I realised I wasn’t one hundred percent sure about what was to come.

Tickling? It was something I associated with childhood, not scenes. Maybe I need to mention this.

Then I smiled.

This is Max. He’ll bring it up in negotiations because this is what he does. That made me smile even more. Not unless I bring it up first.

I pressed the intercom button, and almost instantly I caught the buzz.

What was he doing, waiting by the door?

Yeah, I liked the idea of Max looking forward to our scene.

I climbed the stairs, and when I got to the door, it opened and he stood there.

Oh God.

Max wore a pair of black jeans, his chest and feet bare. My dick reacted in a heartbeat, and I gave it a silent but stern telling off.

Cut that out. This isn’t that kind of scene.

Unfortunately.

Max smiled. “You’re right on time.”

I grinned. “Of course. Who would dare to be late for you?”

That earned me an eye roll. “Get in here.”

I stepped past him into the flat, then dropped my bag on the floor next to the couch. One glance told me we wouldn’t be playing there: not a single instrument of torture in sight. I peered at the seat cushions. “Ooh, good, it didn’t stain.”

“Sit.”

I resisted the urge to tug my forelock. I wasn’t sure how he’d taken me calling him Sir in the early hours of the morning. I leaned back. “Okay… I don’t have any horrible memories of being tickled when I was a kid. I’ll be honest, I never imagined tickling would be part of a scene. And yes, I’m ticklish, some parts more than others.” I folded my arms. “Does that cover everything you were about to ask me?”

Max stared at me for a moment, then burst into laughter. “And here I was, thinking negotiation was a conversation.”

I shrugged. “I just like thinking ahead—like you.” I was doing my utmost not to let my eyes settle on his bare skin, especially those little bronze nipples and that sexy tattoo. I tilted my head to one side. “Have you done this kind of scene before?”

“Once or twice. I tend to make such scenes sensual or torturous.” Max’s eyes sparkled. “Is there any point me asking which you would prefer?”

I pretended to consider the question. “Hmm, let me think.”

He chuckled. “Fine. We’ll start with sensual and see where it takes us. All I’ll be expecting you to do is react and feel. And I won’t be asking any questions that require deep analytical thinking.” His lips twitched. “Unless it’s for my own amusement, because I’m pretty sure anything you come out with will be either hilarious or nonsensical.”

“So what will you be using?” I glanced at my surroundings. “And where have you hidden all those fiendish devices?”

“My bedroom. As for what I’ll be using, I’ve tried to put together a range of… implements.”

“No clues?” I asked hopefully.

He smiled. “I think I’ll let your imagination run riot. It’s so much more fun.” Then he seemed to relent. “Nothing scary, I promise. Unless you have a morbid fear of vibrators.”