everything possible to save Agent Miles. I don’t give a shit what you want.”
Logan clenched his jaw. “Going undercover when you have no experience in either covert operations or submissive behavior is incredibly brave. But it’s also very dangerous. You should have more field experience first. Since you don’t, it’s my job to thoroughly prepare you.”
“Why not let someone else do the job?” She thrust her hand on her hip. “You made it crystal clear years ago that you don’t care.”
“Think of this as my atonement for our past. Now let’s go.”
With a nudge, he urged her forward. Anger shimmered off of him. His presence filled the air around her, forbidding. Atonement, my ass .
Repressing a quiver of apprehension, Tara moved forward, heels clicking on the hard floors as he stalked behind her. He might be in charge . . . for now. But she had one power that Logan absolutely must respect. The minute he tried to exert his will? She’d blurt her safe word faster than he could spit. Thorpe, watching their exchange, would be forced to replace Logan with another Dom. Then she could get down to serious training. But whatever her first lover’s game, she wasn’t playing.
Logan guided her to a room she’d never seen and flicked on the overhead lights. The space was utilitarian, with gray concrete floors and black walls. A padded table, a spanking bench that looked like a sawhorse, a large wooden X, and a bed outfitted with nothing but a fitted, black silk sheet. Was this his dungeon?
“Inside.”
She stepped in and whirled on him as he slammed the door. And locked it.
Tara shot him a cold glare. “Don’t try to scare me by playing the heavy.”
He pierced her with a stare as he crossed the floor to stand beside the giant wooden X. Manacles dangled from heavy-duty bolts both at top and bottom. “I’m not playing. Come here and present yourself.”
She looked at the apparatus, shoving down a shiver of apprehension. “If we’re a team, I need to know what’s going on. We should discuss how to proceed with this training.”
His stare grew icy. “We may be a team, but I’m in charge. I didn’t give you permission to speak. First warning. Come here and do as you’re told or we’ll start our time together with a hell of a spanking.”
Spanking, as in his hand on my ass? The thought rippled through her with an involuntary blast of heat. Tara didn’t waste her breath to challenge Logan and say that he wouldn’t dare. He would.
Damn it. Why did that make her panties damp?
She approached him, stopping a few safe feet away.
He raised a brow. “You can’t follow my simple instructions, but you’re going to breeze through some slave-peddling asshole trying to mold you into the perfect submissive while you search for your missing agent?”
Tara paused. As much as she wanted to hate him now . . . he was right. Until Thorpe assigned her a new Dom, she was stuck with Logan. And whatever the situation, she had to control her anger—and her anxiety that Logan would touch her.
Drawing in a deep breath, Tara dropped down into the pose Axel had taught her, sitting back on her heels, legs spread as much as her skirt allowed, palms up on her thighs, shoulders back, head down.
Logan walked a slow circle around her, his stare touching her everywhere. Though she kept in good shape, Tara had a generous booty no matter how much she exercised. But she didn’t care if Logan loathed her figure. Brad, her fiancé, liked it just fine.
Logan crouched in front of her. “Look at me.”
Tara met his stare with cool challenge.
That blue gaze penetrated her defenses, and despite wearing a skirt, blouse, and heels, she felt stark naked. Her skin grew hot and tight as he scrutinized her.
“There’s nothing wrong with the form of the pose itself, as I’m sure you know. You always studied every subject thoroughly. That won’t be enough to slide by with submission. What matters is not merely that you obey, but
Logan clenched his jaw. “Going undercover when you have no experience in either covert operations or submissive behavior is incredibly brave. But it’s also very dangerous. You should have more field experience first. Since you don’t, it’s my job to thoroughly prepare you.”
“Why not let someone else do the job?” She thrust her hand on her hip. “You made it crystal clear years ago that you don’t care.”
“Think of this as my atonement for our past. Now let’s go.”
With a nudge, he urged her forward. Anger shimmered off of him. His presence filled the air around her, forbidding. Atonement, my ass .
Repressing a quiver of apprehension, Tara moved forward, heels clicking on the hard floors as he stalked behind her. He might be in charge . . . for now. But she had one power that Logan absolutely must respect. The minute he tried to exert his will? She’d blurt her safe word faster than he could spit. Thorpe, watching their exchange, would be forced to replace Logan with another Dom. Then she could get down to serious training. But whatever her first lover’s game, she wasn’t playing.
Logan guided her to a room she’d never seen and flicked on the overhead lights. The space was utilitarian, with gray concrete floors and black walls. A padded table, a spanking bench that looked like a sawhorse, a large wooden X, and a bed outfitted with nothing but a fitted, black silk sheet. Was this his dungeon?
“Inside.”
She stepped in and whirled on him as he slammed the door. And locked it.
Tara shot him a cold glare. “Don’t try to scare me by playing the heavy.”
He pierced her with a stare as he crossed the floor to stand beside the giant wooden X. Manacles dangled from heavy-duty bolts both at top and bottom. “I’m not playing. Come here and present yourself.”
She looked at the apparatus, shoving down a shiver of apprehension. “If we’re a team, I need to know what’s going on. We should discuss how to proceed with this training.”
His stare grew icy. “We may be a team, but I’m in charge. I didn’t give you permission to speak. First warning. Come here and do as you’re told or we’ll start our time together with a hell of a spanking.”
Spanking, as in his hand on my ass? The thought rippled through her with an involuntary blast of heat. Tara didn’t waste her breath to challenge Logan and say that he wouldn’t dare. He would.
Damn it. Why did that make her panties damp?
She approached him, stopping a few safe feet away.
He raised a brow. “You can’t follow my simple instructions, but you’re going to breeze through some slave-peddling asshole trying to mold you into the perfect submissive while you search for your missing agent?”
Tara paused. As much as she wanted to hate him now . . . he was right. Until Thorpe assigned her a new Dom, she was stuck with Logan. And whatever the situation, she had to control her anger—and her anxiety that Logan would touch her.
Drawing in a deep breath, Tara dropped down into the pose Axel had taught her, sitting back on her heels, legs spread as much as her skirt allowed, palms up on her thighs, shoulders back, head down.
Logan walked a slow circle around her, his stare touching her everywhere. Though she kept in good shape, Tara had a generous booty no matter how much she exercised. But she didn’t care if Logan loathed her figure. Brad, her fiancé, liked it just fine.
Logan crouched in front of her. “Look at me.”
Tara met his stare with cool challenge.
That blue gaze penetrated her defenses, and despite wearing a skirt, blouse, and heels, she felt stark naked. Her skin grew hot and tight as he scrutinized her.
“There’s nothing wrong with the form of the pose itself, as I’m sure you know. You always studied every subject thoroughly. That won’t be enough to slide by with submission. What matters is not merely that you obey, but
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