Pleasure and Danger Read Free Page B

those means you belong to a Master.”
    “Yes.” He paused, then, “And would you want to belong to a Master?”
    “Only you,” I blurted and blushed, feeling I’d shown him exactly what he’d said I was. And free, so bloody free that I’d said it out loud and had acknowledged it properly to myself. That I was sub material. How come I’d denied it for so long? Had I just been waiting for the right partner to arrive, was that it?
    “That’s nice to hear,” he said. “Perhaps I might buy it for you at some point. But it’s early days yet, and you have many things to consider, many rules you need to know about, many scenes you need to participate in to know whether the lifestyle really is for you.”
    “But if you’re willing to teach me…”
    “Oh, I am. Fuck, yes, I am.”
    I felt his presence leave. I caught sight of his reflection in the window and watched him make his way toward Millets, just as we’d agreed. He leaned against the shop door jamb, one leg straight, the other bent at the knee, the toe of his shoe kissing the pavers. He’d worn a suit, as I’d requested, and the red tie.
    That tie. I want it around my wrists, so tight that it burns.
    I took a moment to consider what he’d said. He’d been deadly serious, and I had to take some time over the next few days to think about the enormous step I knew I would be taking—one I wanted to take more than anything. It meant a hell of a lot of change, but I had it in me to soak it all up—to enjoy it all, every bit of it—and become who I really was.
    Gabriel lifted his hand to his mouth and formed a fist, as though he was coughing, chivvying me along. I turned and purposely didn’t look at him while strolling across to Millets, pretending something in the window held my full attention. Once there, I stopped within a few feet of him and gazed at the goods on display. Camping gear mainly—a rolled-up sleeping bag complete with holdall, a pop-up tent, a range of brightly colored drinking flasks and, rather oddly I thought, a black T-shirt with a yellow smiley face on it that didn’t seem to gel with the other things the store sold.
    “A smiley face means a happy person,” Gabriel said, coming to stand a person’s width beside me.
    I reminded myself he was supposed to be a stranger, that I didn’t know him from Adam, and considered how I would have reacted if that were true. I stiffened my shoulders and refrained from looking at him.
    “Are you a happy person?” he asked.
    At this point, had a man asked me that out of the blue, I’d have deemed him off his rocker and would have made a hasty retreat. However, I decided to play the unhappy person card to see what he’d say.
    “No. I’m very sad. I’m all alone in this world with no one to take care of me.” I almost laughed at how B-movie I sounded, how 1900s. I turned my head so I was looking up at him and batted my eyelashes for good measure.
    His mouth twitched and his eyes seemed to sparkle. “Well, we can’t have that, can we?” He looked me up and down, as though appraising meat in a butcher shop.
    I loved that look.
    He cleared his throat. “I’d have presumed a woman like yourself would be very happy, what with all the cock you must get.”
    I widened my eyes in shock then remembered how I was dressed. “What do you mean?”
    “Well, a woman of the night—or the day, as it were—should be happy considering she rakes in cash from servicing men. That is what you do, isn’t it?” He raised his eyebrows and stared at me, daring me to answer otherwise.
    “Yes, I’m a slut. A take-money-for-sex slut. What about it?” I cocked my hip, really getting into role, evicting that B-movie girl-next-door and moving in the sassy harlot. “Do you want what’s on offer? Do you like what you see?”
    “I do,” he said, squeezing closer so he stood an inch or so from me. “But I’m willing to bet I’ll like what I can’t see more.” He raised his hand and brushed his fingertips