On His Terms by Sierra Cartwright Page B

anything, he and Gavin would be triple-checking all the details.
    Alex slid his cell phone onto the desktop and stared at the sunset. At least this was one good thing about their recent move to the less expensive address. Their Cherry Creek offices had lacked the view that the Denver West area provided.
    He thought about Chelsea, just like he had done every night this week. He’d enjoyed playing with her, introducing her to things she’d never tried before, seeing what made her nervous, then pushing her past those apprehensions.
    Since Liz, he’d spent his nights alone. Until Chelsea, he’d had no desire to change that.
    The idea of her going through all the Doms in Denver pissed him off. She could be hurt. And damn it, he wanted to be the one to watch her green eyes open wide, to soothe her brow when she was frightened, to teach her proper decorum. If she was so desperate to be trained, he would be the one to do it.
    He picked up his phone and scrolled through the contacts list until he found the number for Sara’s Dom. Within five minutes he had Chelsea on the line. “Round one to you.”
    “Excuse me?”
    “You win,” he conceded.
    “Does this mean you’re agreeable to training me?”
    He heard excitement in her tone. Not just triumph, but honest enthusiasm. She might have won, but if she was gloating, she was disguising it well. “I’ll give you two weeks. Are you available in the evenings and on the weekends?”
    “There are a couple of events that I need to attend, but mostly I can rearrange my schedule, Sir.”
    “I recommend we start tomorrow.”
    “That works.”
    “Dinner? Six o’clock.”
    “That works,” she said.
    He named a restaurant near his office. “Wear a short skirt, heels, no undergarments. And pack an overnight bag in case you decide to stay. Any questions?”
    There was silence. “How much will this cost me?”
    “I don’t charge.”
    “In that case, I’ll make a charitable donation in the name of Monahan Capital.”
    He exhaled. She might not be a masochist like Liz had been, but that didn’t mean he would have the patience he needed to deal with her annoying persistence. “Don’t be late.”
    “Yes, Sir.”
    He half expected her to call and try to change the arrangements, and he was pleasantly surprised when she didn’t. He arrived at the restaurant five minutes early, and she was already there. Impressive. She was sitting on a bench, her impossibly long legs crossed. Her back was hunched slightly, as if she were trying to hide the fact her breasts were bare beneath the loose-knit sweater. Her beauty was startling, and he was man enough to notice and appreciate it.
    He’d prefer to see her present her body more proudly, and they’d be working on that. The next time they dined in public, her behaviour would be different.
    With the artificial, calculating smile he recognised from the first time she approached him at the Den, she stood and offered her hand, as if he were a business associate. He ignored her hand and said, “I’d prefer you to kiss my cheek.”
    She blinked. “Of course,” she said, leaning towards him.
    “Of course, Sir,” he corrected.
    “Of course, Sir,” she repeated, then kissed his cheek.
    “Please,” he said, indicating she should precede him. When she did, he placed his fingers as the small of her back. “Stand up straighter.” He heard her draw a sharp breath, but she did so. “Reservations for Monahan,” he told the hostess.
    After they were seated, with menus in hand, he asked Chelsea, “Any preference?”
    She looked at the entrées. “Probably just a salad. With sirloin. Maybe some wine.”
    “How do you like your steak cooked?”
    Over the top of the menu, she scowled at him.
    “I’ll be ordering your food,” he told her.
    “I’m capable of doing that myself.”
    “Of course you are, but this is about your willingness to allow me to handle the details.”
    She put down the menu.
    “A good Dom always takes his sub’s