When submissive Caitlín Turner, 54, goes undercover in the US office of her father's media company, the last thing she expects is to be confronted by the handsome Hunter Ralston, 55.
Hunter by name and nature, he’s a Dominant—forceful, cocksure, sexy. And he makes no bones about wanting her.
But Caitlín is unsure about getting involved with him when she knows she’ll return to Australia once her task is completed.
Can Hunter convince her the two of them are meant to be or will fate step in to pull them apart?
Be Warned: BDSM, anal sex, sex toys
Early in the afternoon she went into the staff area. After making coffee, she waited on a toasted sandwich to cook for her lunch when Hunter Ralston came in. There was something about him, about the way he held himself. He exuded confidence so much that, as Veronica had remarked, it came across as arrogance to most people. He commanded the room as he took his time making coffee. When he’d finished he turned, leaned against the counter, and took a sip of his drink while looking directly at her. She noticed a thin scar running down his right cheek to get lost in his beard, but it only seemed to enhance his appeal as far as Caitlín was concerned. There was no doubt he was a very handsome man.
“Well, Red, been a good girl?”
What a strange question? Still, it stirred parts of Caitlín she would rather he didn’t know as she replied, “I have no idea what you mean.”
He laughed and took another mouthful of his drink. She needed to get him to move so she could rescue her lunch before it burnt.
She pointed behind him. “Excuse me, Sir, I need to check.”
He held his arms wide and with a rather sexy grin said, “Check away.”
Gritting her teeth, she said, “The sandwich press.”
“Sure you wouldn’t rather check me, Red? I give you permission to run your hands over me.”
Caitlín faltered. His words were innocent enough but to a person with her kink it held a much different meaning. That word “permission”—it sang to her. She had to stop herself from dropping to her knees and saying, “Thank you, Sir.” Instead, she adopted what she hoped was a suitably angry glare as she tried to look behind him.
“Ask me to move.” He actually ordered her, not asked.
“Will you please move, Sir?”
He gave a slight bow with his head but now wore a puzzled frown as he stepped to one side. Nervously Caitlín switched off the machine and removed her lunch, placing it on her plate. She was dismayed to see her hands shake as she picked up her coffee and the plate. Hunter still stood there watching her every move like a hawk. She gave a quick glance at him, realizing he still looked a little mystified. I wonder why?
Every part of him now screamed Dom, and she hoped she wouldn’t spill anything as she moved to a chair to eat. She could feel his gaze following her all the way. As she sat, he suddenly turned on his heel and left the room. It felt so empty now he’d gone, Caitlín didn’t know whether to be relieved or dismayed. She sat in the lounge area eating and thinking hard.
Was he or wasn’t he? Maybe he was just the type of man who tried to dominate women without actually being a Dominant. Still, her kinky sense tingled, warning her. The man’s in the lifestyle. Beware!
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