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And he was doing it on purpose because I was much more functional around him when I was frustrated.

He flashed me a grin but didn’t apologize or acknowledge he was being deliberately distracting. “Are you still ready for our date tonight?”

Oh yes.

But I was now back to nervous and needy, and I was starting to wish I could’ve kept my frustration instead. “Yes. You’re…You still want me to go over to your place?”

I’d always thought he’d been walking to his car to drive to wherever he lived, but it seemed that he was actually walking home instead. So now I spent a ridiculous amount of time wondering how close together we actually lived.

“Yes, pet, and we’re going to meet down at the corner. I’ll walk with you from there.” It wasn’t a question but I found myself nodding anyway.

“I remember.” Just a few more hours and then we’d be alone. On a date. Talking about submission.

And exploring things.

Bex’s low, slightly frustrated tone did crazy things to my desire. “If we were anywhere else, I’d give you a taste of what’s to come.”

“If we were anywhere else, I’d let you.” Over the past few days, I’d gotten brave…or maybe reckless…but he was so tempting. “But I have to go back to work.”

Because I still had a few more hours of dodging Amanda’s questions.

And that thought was a good reminder about what I was supposed to have been doing out here to begin with. “Oh, and if Amanda asks, tell her you think a blue theme for the window would be fun.”

Bex chuckled, nodding. “Deal, and I’m not even going to tell you what a good boy you are for finding a way to come out and talk to me.”

Now it was my turn to groan as my dick started to perk up like Pavlov’s dog. All it took was the vaguest hint of the words good boy and l started to get hard. It was definitely Bex’s fault. I was completely innocent because he’d been the one looking so sexy the other night at the bar.

Yep, this was all his fault.

And he loved it.

“I won’t even tell you how happy you made me when you smiled at me or how good you were last night when you sent me your list.” He just kept being sweet and making it worse.

“Thank you.” I managed not to say Sir but it’d been closer than I’d expected.

The next few hours were going to be hell, and even though it would be all his fault, I was going to spend the rest of the afternoon wondering what being spanked would be like. Because if his bad behavior was all my fault, I was pretty sure I should get spanked.

That seemed to be how the logic in all this insanity worked…but it left me wondering if that was a scary thought or not. I still wasn’t sure and I didn’t think there was enough debating in the world to make my brain settle on one side or the other.

Unfortunately, my cock wasn’t conflicted at all.

It was going to be a long afternoon.

****

“You can do this.” Trying to stand taller and feel more confident, I whispered softly to myself. “You’re going to look like a confident date and not blush the minute you see him.”

Bex.

The Dom who wanted to date me.

The Handler who wanted to play with me.

God, how had I ended up going to meet a date who wanted to do crazy things to me and with me? Part of me realized I could’ve walked away and hadn’t, but he was too tempting and I was too curious.

He wanted to play with my pup side, as he kept calling it.

He wanted to explore different types of submission with me.

He wanted to spank me…and the craziest thing was that I wanted him to spank me too.

Nothing had been the same since I’d overheard those old ladies talking about Bex and all the dirty books they were going to read for research. Part of me couldn’t stop obsessing over the change but then I’d remember our night at the bar.

I wasn’t sure the memory should feel so romantic but that was the only way I could describe it. Bex had made me feel like the most precious thing in the world and the sexiest man in the room. He’d wanted to show me off. He’d made me come in public. He’d held me tight and let me hide against him without thinking it made me weak or ridiculous.

He saw things so uniquely and I’d never met anyone else like him, but judging by the looks we’d gotten when he’d finally walked me out of the bar, I had a feeling I was the one who saw things differently. Every other man in the bar and even the bartender had a Bex kind of vibe in one way or another.

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