Exactly what in the hell is going on?”
He stopped pacing and looked hard at her. “I’m not doing this well, am I?”
“Doing what?” When he didn’t answer, she turned to the sink, poured herself a glass of water, and drank it slowly.
With her back still to him, she said softly, “Trying to find a way to tell me you’re a natural submissive?”
When she turned back to look at him, he had a look of shock on his face.
“What? You didn’t think my radar would pick it up? I’ve been a Domme for so long my instincts are practically infallible.” She cocked her head, studying him. “No one at the club knows, do they? It’s the little secret you keep behind that cool facade.”
“Reece knows. And Katie.” He blew out a breath. “But I never mix my sex life with my business life.”
“Yet here you are in my house. In my kitchen. And unless I’m really out of tune, you didn’t drive me home for coffee or a drink.”
“Listen.” He rubbed his face. “Could I have that coffee, after all? I think it might make it easier to talk.”
She hesitated for a moment then nodded. “Of course.”
Montana busied herself with the coffee maker, filters, grinding beans. Filling the reservoir. Why was she so nervous? She never let her nerves get the best of her. That’s why she’d done well around rodeos. And why she was settling comfortably in a business that required nerves of steel.
But Clint Chavez made her edgy in a way no other man ever had.
The kitchen was filled with silence while the coffee brewed.
She was hyperaware of the elephant occupying the space with them, the explosive chemistry that went beyond just a physical reaction.
Finally, she filled two mugs, carried them to the table, and she and Clint sat facing each other. She wished she knew what kind of armor he had himself wrapped up in. It almost seemed as if admitting his nature to her somehow diminished his masculinity, but surely that wasn’t it. Clint Chavez was probably the most masculine man she’d ever met. Including Dusty.
Run with it, Montana.
“All right. Tell me what’s going on in your head. I’m all ears.”
He took a healthy swallow of the coffee.
“I argued with myself about this all day. I almost called the Hallidays and told them I couldn’t make it. But maybe I wanted to see if all that electricity that keeps passing between us is only in my imagination.”
Careful, careful. “Electricity?”
One corner of his mouth quirked up in a smile. “You feel it, too. I know you do. You’re the one who brought up the chemistry. You won’t deny that this is a little more than instant physical attraction because I don’t think you’re a liar, Montana Steele.”
“No. I’m not. A liar.” The words came out as a whisper.
What was she getting herself into here?
Nothing more than you expected when you invited him into your home. You knew where this was heading.
“I’m probably out of my mind to do this,” he went on, “but here I am. And I’m taking a big step. I really want to make that clear.”
“Very clear.” Her voice was steady.
“But sometimes…” His gaze drifted, his eyes focusing on a spot beyond her head “Sometimes you do something you hope doesn’t turn out to be stupid.”
She studied him for a long moment that stretched out in elastic silence. All right. He was acknowledging in an oblique way his desire for her as a Domme, even though he made it plain he was fighting it. But if that was the situation, then that’s what she’d give him. And he could surrender to it…or walk away. She was tired of this dance they’d been doing.
There was quicksand beneath her feet, too. However, he was taking a chance. She would, too.
Immediately, she switched into Domme mode, determined to take charge of this once and for all. Maybe get it out of both of their systems.
“Take off your shirt, Clint. I want to see your chest.”
His eyes narrowed. He set down his mug carefully but made no move other
He stopped pacing and looked hard at her. “I’m not doing this well, am I?”
“Doing what?” When he didn’t answer, she turned to the sink, poured herself a glass of water, and drank it slowly.
With her back still to him, she said softly, “Trying to find a way to tell me you’re a natural submissive?”
When she turned back to look at him, he had a look of shock on his face.
“What? You didn’t think my radar would pick it up? I’ve been a Domme for so long my instincts are practically infallible.” She cocked her head, studying him. “No one at the club knows, do they? It’s the little secret you keep behind that cool facade.”
“Reece knows. And Katie.” He blew out a breath. “But I never mix my sex life with my business life.”
“Yet here you are in my house. In my kitchen. And unless I’m really out of tune, you didn’t drive me home for coffee or a drink.”
“Listen.” He rubbed his face. “Could I have that coffee, after all? I think it might make it easier to talk.”
She hesitated for a moment then nodded. “Of course.”
Montana busied herself with the coffee maker, filters, grinding beans. Filling the reservoir. Why was she so nervous? She never let her nerves get the best of her. That’s why she’d done well around rodeos. And why she was settling comfortably in a business that required nerves of steel.
But Clint Chavez made her edgy in a way no other man ever had.
The kitchen was filled with silence while the coffee brewed.
She was hyperaware of the elephant occupying the space with them, the explosive chemistry that went beyond just a physical reaction.
Finally, she filled two mugs, carried them to the table, and she and Clint sat facing each other. She wished she knew what kind of armor he had himself wrapped up in. It almost seemed as if admitting his nature to her somehow diminished his masculinity, but surely that wasn’t it. Clint Chavez was probably the most masculine man she’d ever met. Including Dusty.
Run with it, Montana.
“All right. Tell me what’s going on in your head. I’m all ears.”
He took a healthy swallow of the coffee.
“I argued with myself about this all day. I almost called the Hallidays and told them I couldn’t make it. But maybe I wanted to see if all that electricity that keeps passing between us is only in my imagination.”
Careful, careful. “Electricity?”
One corner of his mouth quirked up in a smile. “You feel it, too. I know you do. You’re the one who brought up the chemistry. You won’t deny that this is a little more than instant physical attraction because I don’t think you’re a liar, Montana Steele.”
“No. I’m not. A liar.” The words came out as a whisper.
What was she getting herself into here?
Nothing more than you expected when you invited him into your home. You knew where this was heading.
“I’m probably out of my mind to do this,” he went on, “but here I am. And I’m taking a big step. I really want to make that clear.”
“Very clear.” Her voice was steady.
“But sometimes…” His gaze drifted, his eyes focusing on a spot beyond her head “Sometimes you do something you hope doesn’t turn out to be stupid.”
She studied him for a long moment that stretched out in elastic silence. All right. He was acknowledging in an oblique way his desire for her as a Domme, even though he made it plain he was fighting it. But if that was the situation, then that’s what she’d give him. And he could surrender to it…or walk away. She was tired of this dance they’d been doing.
There was quicksand beneath her feet, too. However, he was taking a chance. She would, too.
Immediately, she switched into Domme mode, determined to take charge of this once and for all. Maybe get it out of both of their systems.
“Take off your shirt, Clint. I want to see your chest.”
His eyes narrowed. He set down his mug carefully but made no move other
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