Inside the Lines: Without a Trace series, a contemporary erotic romance novel by Ally Bishop Page A

ye something personal?”
    I turn onto my stomach, and his arm follows, his fingers finding the back of my neck and kneading my scalp. I could purr, it feels so amazing. “Turnabout is fair play, and if you keep that up, I’ll tell you anything.” I stretch my head forward so he has better access. “What did you want to ask?”
    It takes him a moment before he responds. “Is it always like that for ye? I mean, when you are working, that is? With Ari, it seemed like ye really enjoyed it, I mean.”
    Inwardly, I cringe. This is why you have rules, Lux. And this is what happens when you break them . I roll over, away from his touch, and look for my underwear. Spying them on the floor, I get up. As I dress, he watches me, face cautiously blank.
    “I dinna mean to offend ye.”
    I stop, silk tank in place, holding my pants in one hand. “You didn’t. This isn’t your fault. It’s mine.” I stare at the wall to gather my words. “I don’t usually sleep with clients. I’m a professional Dominatrix, not a prostitute. The other night with Ari…she’s a friend.” Lying is easier than trying to explain all the times I’ve broken the rules over the last few months. “Most of what I do is to help others have their fantasies, but I don’t get involved sexually.”
    “So,” his brows draw together, “Professional Dominatrices dinna have sex with their clients? So what is it ye do then? Not meaning to sound daft, but I can’t say I’m all that familiar with the profession.”
    His question and tone of voice are so innocent, I chuckle. “Honestly, that’s a good question. What do I do? Let’s see… I work with people who have fetishes or want to be dominated. Or they might be like Ari, and not really know what they want, so I help them sort that out.”
    “Aye, well, I imagined that well enough. But how do you do that without having sex with them?” He shifts to his side so he can look at me, and I can’t help but admire the muscular curves of his shoulders.
    I shrug. “I do what they like, and that’s all they pay me for.”
    “Aren’t they a bit aroused after ye’re done?”
    “Yeah, usually. That’s for them to take care of.” I can’t believe I’m actually blushing. But his intense curiosity and rapt attention feel different. Most people are either put off by what I do or make crude comments. So his honest questions are a change. Or maybe it’s that he’s gorgeous and naked. That could be it too, I suppose.
    “Damn, woman. Ye’re cruel.”
    I wink. “Of course. That’s what they pay me for.”
    “So… could ye show me what ye do for a client sometime? Though I’d like to keep with the fucking part after, if ye don’t mind.”
    I’ve changed my mind on getting dressed, given that he’s, well, delicious. I drop a knee onto the bed. “Mr. MacKenzie, do you wish to be tortured? Is that what you’re saying?” I slink onto all fours on the mattress.
    He has the good sense to look confused. “Aye, well, I dinna mean I want ye to abuse me, Mistress.” He watches me circumspectly as I move towards him. “But I wouldna mind experiencing bits of it.”
    “I’ll have to see what I can do.” And then I kiss him. He stretches out beside me, pulling me against him, and I lose myself in his scent and touch. He manages to remove the clothing I hastily donned, and desire burns a path across my skin as he aligns my body with his. Spreading my legs so he can rub himself against me, he reaches down over my ass and slides his fingers along my already wet sex. I wrap my leg around his hip, giving him easier access. When his fingers slip inside me, I hold him to me, unable to stop the climax that builds. But my arm is trapped beneath us, and even as I reach my crescendo, panic builds in its wake. His mouth drowns out the scream that threatens.
    Several moments pass before he realizes that I’m crying, and if I hadn’t just had an orgasm that left my legs weak, I would move away. Instead, I try to