In the Zone by Sierra Cartwright Page B

anonymous.
    The drive to downtown took less time than usual.
    He parked his SUV in the far row of the parking lot, leaving the closer spots for female employees and patrons.
    He sat there for a few seconds before cutting the engine.
    Two things was inescapable: he wanted Alani, and he intended to have her. Other than that, he had very little in terms of a plan. He was comfortable acting instinctively, and with her, he doubted anything else would work.
    He’d arrived early, and Alani was already waiting in the foyer. She wore her trench coat, belted at the waist. Her luxurious hair cascaded over her shoulders. She had on spiky heels that defined her calves and, God help him, fishnet stockings. She was the stuff of fantasies.
    He wanted to get her alone, strip off the coat, and bend her hot body over the arm of a couch while he fucked her from behind. But he owed it to them both to define the rules. “We’ll talk in the bar.” When she frowned in obvious confusion, he added, “This isn’t all about business.”
    He placed his fingers in the small of her back and exerted a small amount of pressure, indicating she should precede him.
    “If you’re supposed to be retraining me, I should be walking behind you.”
    “Do you have to argue with everything?” He wondered if she was genuinely puzzled or if she was trying to goad him. “First of all, I said this isn’t all business. Secondly, I’m the dom. We’ll do whatever I say, whatever I want, whenever and wherever I want it.”
    She didn’t respond.
    He guided her to a small corner table, tucked away from prying eyes and eavesdroppers. He held her chair. She placed her purse on the floor. When she reached for her belt, he said, “Leave your coat on.” If she revealed any more of her beautiful skin, he might give in to his Neanderthal urges. He was already behind her, and it took all his restraint not to place her hands on the table, lift her hem, and shove his hard cock deep into her pussy. “Sit,” he told her.
    She did, and he moved to the far side of the table and sat across from her. Alani kept her back rigid.
    A waitress headed their direction, and he waved her away.
    “I could use a drink,” Alani said.
    “We’re here to talk.”
    “We could do that in Master Marcus’s office.”
    Why she hadn’t been in trouble before now was somewhat of a mystery. Maybe he brought out the brat in her. Maybe the manipulative masochist wanted another spanking. He held his temper and evenly said, “I understand you’re unclear of what’s going on here, Alani.” He raised a brow. “So let me help. You’re a sub. I’m a dom.”
    She frowned. “I’m not sure what your point is.”
    “Sir. You’ll address me properly at all times. Any questions?”
    Her shoulders slumped slightly, as if in defeat. “No, Sir.”
    Much, much better. He liked the way the respectful term of address rolled off her tongue. “Any ill effects from last night?” he asked.
    “Last night?” She folded her hand in her lap. “Which part are you talking about? When you beat me? Or the part where you sent me home without pay, not knowing when I’d get to come back? Or the part where you didn’t call until this afternoon? Or the part where you expected me to drop what I was doing and come in after all? Or the part where you refused to fuck me?” She smiled sweetly and added a belated, “Sir.”
    He leaned forward. What the hell had he gotten himself into?
    If he wanted a hookup, he could find plenty of willing women. Karyn had girlfriends who would spend an evening with him. He could avail himself of one of the club’s other submissives. And there would no doubt be single women who showed up tonight who’d like to scene with him. He didn’t need to sit here with a hellion of a masochist who’d intentionally annoy him at every turn. “I told you I would call you, Alani. I did. I don’t make promises that I don’t keep.”
    She met his gaze and didn’t look away.
    “Now answer