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If she’d been holding a dish, she would have dropped it. “How the hell did he find out about that?”
Sebastian shrugged and went back to sorting through her mail. “People in the lifestyle talk, sweetheart. You should know that. You’re one of the biggest gossips at Sanctum.” He looked up, giving her a stern glare. “We’ll work on that problem, too.”
It wasn’t gossip. It was finding out interesting facts about her friends and talking about it without said friends necessarily being there for the conversation. And what? “My father was not in the lifestyle.”
A satisfied look came over Sebastian’s face. “Now this is what it feels like to know something Tiffany Hayes doesn’t know. It’s nice, actually. It’s a warm feeling right there in my chest. Yes, I could get used to this.”
He was such an ass. “Tell me. Sebastian, if you don’t tell me right now I’m going to…”
That look in his eyes made her stop. It was dark and when he spoke, his voice had gone low, and she realized she was playing at the edges of his tolerance. “You’re going to what, my darling? I would think about what you say next.”
And he said he couldn’t top her from that damn chair.
She knew damn well he was annoyed and it was up to her to soothe the savage beast. She rather thought the splinter had come out of his poor paw in the shower today, but he still had some healing to do. She moved around the bar and dropped down to the sofa beside him. “I was going to say that if you don’t tell me, I’ll cry.”
His hand came out, knuckles brushing over her cheek. “Sure you were.” He sighed as he stared at her. “Have I told you how beautiful you are today?”
“You might have mentioned it once or twice.” She gave him a smile and reminded herself that patience was the word of the day. “I think you’re pretty, too, Sir.”
“I prefer Master,” he replied quickly. “I like the way you say it. I know that goes against what we talked about, but I do want to try with you. I need you to be honest with me about how you feel when we start to play again. I’m going to want more control than you might be willing to give me. I know Deena and Eric simply play, but I need more.”
She knew that. She also knew that there were things she would love to push off on him so she didn’t have to worry about them. Things he would enjoy doing for her. She wasn’t organized. He loved to file stuff and kept careful and copious notes not only on every wine he tasted but on household stuff like scheduling when to change the air filters. She hadn’t known they had to be changed. Which could explain a lot about her apartment.
“Top away, Master. Though I’ll never be happy with you picking my clothes.” She didn’t like the thought of that. Some submissives let their Masters select everything from food to clothing to scheduling out their days.
His hand moved over hers and he tugged at her gently. “Sit with me.”
Her heart warmed instantly. This was exactly what she wanted. Sebastian needed affection and now he was asking for it. Well, he was asking for it the only way a Dom would. She moved the mail to the side and sat down on his lap. Such a comfy lap. Well, except for the rod that suddenly poked at her backside. “I like sitting with you.”
“I like sitting with you. I think I like this more than having you at my feet.” He frowned. “I can’t actually feel you at my feet since I left them behind in Afghanistan.”
He could joke, too, it seemed. She chuckled. “I like being closer to you.”
His arm wound around her waist, holding her in place. “You can’t imagine how good it feels to be close to you. It’s addictive. You’re addictive. So if I can’t get out of this trap you set for me, we should at least negotiate terms. I won’t ever take control of your creativity. Your clothes, how we decorate, your work, those are all your purview. You will likely want to redo the apartment or whatever space we decide on and I’ll happily give it up to you. I’ll control everything that requires precision.”
She could handle that. “But I reserve my right to poke you when I think you aren’t taking care of yourself.”
“I promise, I’ll handle it with grace.”
There was one thing she couldn’t handle. “Please tell me my daddy isn’t a Dom.”
He smiled and there was no way to describe it as anything other than brilliant. “I will not tell you that your father was a Dom. I don’t want to lie to my sweet sub.”
She shuddered. “Please tell me my daddy wasn’t a sub.”
He leaned in and whispered in her ear. “Like father, like daughter. He’s very happy to know you’ve got a Dom looking out for you and now I’ll be sure to keep him up to date.” He dropped his head close to hers. “Does it bother you knowing your parents were together that way? He hasn’t practiced since the day she died if that makes you feel better.”
She wasn’t selfish. “I’m glad they were happy.” But she was also a reasonable human being who didn’t want to ever think about her parents having sex. Of any kind. “But they never did anything at Sanctum, right? Sanctum wasn’t around back then.”
“Rest easy, darlin’. They played at an older club.” He kissed her cheek, his hand slipping under her breast. “I like your father. He’s a very nice man. I’m afraid of your sister. Not the fluffy one. The crazy one in France.”
She couldn’t wait for her sisters to meet Sebastian. V would adore him and Berry might stop looking at herself in the mirror long enough to realize how cool he was. “She’s a sweetheart, though she will lecture you on your dry cleaning practices.”
“My suits aren’t going through a washing machine,” he insisted. “Those are custom-made suits. The earth will have to suck it up.”
And she loved how he wore them. “V would never advise you to clean them in a modern washing machine. She might give you a rock to go down to the river and beat them with, but only if she was certain it wouldn’t harm the wildlife.”
“Tiffany?” His voice had gone low again. Deep and dominant.
