Teach Me a Lesson by Jasmine Haynes Page A

floggers, paddles, leashes, collars. The assortment boggled the mind. But the handcuffs caught his eye. Regular police-style metal handcuffs, leather manacles, fur-lined, silk ties.
    “Looking for you or her or him?” A husky voice right next to him.
    He hadn’t heard the saleswoman approach. At least she was long past the age of consent, and attractive in an over-the-hill-actress kind of way. He preferred the actresses of his own generation, the ones who played tough, ball-busting executives.
    “For her,” he said.
    The woman fingered the fur-lined cuffs, sheepskin under leather, with a buckle. “These are comfy.” The blond highlights in her brown hair sparkled in the overhead lamps. She was several years older than Charlotte and had none of Charlotte’s softness.
    “She’d probably prefer silk,” he said.
    The woman fingered those, too. Her nails were a hard red, her hands unlined, the diamond on her middle finger large. “They’d be a good choice.” She glanced up at him, her eyes an unnatural shade of violet. “New submissive you’re breaking in?”
    He gave a wry smile. “More like she’s breaking me in.”
    “Ahhh,” she said on a long sigh. “You’re new to being a dom.”
    “I’m not a dom.”
    “But she wants to turn you into one.”
    He didn’t actually know. But he figured Charlotte for a woman who liked fun and games. And she’d started a new one with him. “We’re both new at this.”
    He wondered why he was telling this woman anything. Because she was a saleslady in a sex shop? There was a certain freedom in that.
    “Perhaps you need a class or two to show you the ropes.”
    “A class?” Oh yeah, this place really did boggle the mind.
    “I give personal training. I’ll show you how to tie knots on her, how to truss her up, how to apply nipple clamps so they don’t do any physical damage.” She reached into her purse and pulled out a business card. “We can even dominate her together, if you’d like.” She winked. “Just until you get the gist of it. I’ve worked with a lot of couples. Are you interested in giving her to other men?”
    He’d stood in front of an assembly of fifteen hundred students—if you weren’t afraid of teenagers, you weren’t afraid of anything —and he had never once in his life found himself speechless. Until this moment.
    She slipped the card into the breast pocket of his jacket.
    He took one step back. Discovered his voice. “I believe I’ll take the silk cuffs.” He pointed slightly behind and to the right. “And the feather duster.”
    She laughed, batted his chest. “It’s a feather teaser , silly man. But I like your choices.” She lowered her voice, tapped the pocket where her card lay. “Just call if you need any pointers.” Then she grabbed one of the cock plugs—a bronze circlet shaped like a snake with a head that would go . . . inside. “And I found just what I was looking for.” Carrying her choice, she paid for it at a counter in the back. On her way out, she waggled her fingers at him.
    Good God, the woman didn’t work there at all.
    At the last moment, before going to the counter himself, Lance pulled a simple no-frills vibrator off the wall to add to the red silk cuffs and overpriced feather duster. Maybe he was a novice. Maybe he was even a prude. But he removed the woman’s card from his pocket and tossed it in a trash can by the register. Handcuffs, feathers, and a vibrator were as far as he was willing to go. At least for now.

6
    THE PRINCIPAL’S HOUSE FORMED A T, WITH THE LIVING ROOM, DINING ROOM, AND KITCHEN ACROSS THE FRONT. THE BEDROOMS were along the length of the T, down a hallway of windows facing a brick patio and a manicured green lawn bordered by a tall privacy hedge.
    He’d lit a fire against the cooling November night and taken a seat on the living room sofa situated in front of another bank of windows facing the same patio and lawn as the bedroom hall.
    “Now take off your clothes.” He