Kayla Fagan unfolded her legs. For a second, her actions reminded Stone of a butterfly unfurling its wings. He took a seat in the oversize leather chair. She and Nate Davidson had left the wingback chair vacant for him. “You needed to talk?” “Yeah. About that…” She stood in a lithe movement that captivated him, made him aware of her femininity. Men and women were built different, and he was a connoisseur of both. He pressed his palms together and waited. “I want to play.” “Go on.” She paced. Then, with her back to a wall, she admitted, “I’m intrigued.” Her soft-spoken admission aroused him. “I just…don’t want anything extreme.” “You want to stay in control while you’re out of control?” She nodded. “You’ll have a safe word. And a slow word. We can go at your pace.” “Your safe word will stop any activity,” Davidson said. “You can always say no. Your Dom, Stone, will honor that. You get to set boundaries and negotiate terms. Your pleasure is our ultimate goal. Watching the two of them was entertaining as hell to Stone. “My pleasure is the only thing that matters?” Clearly, she was confused, and a little intrigued, if the glint in her green eyes was anything to judge by. “Make no mistake,” Davidson continued, “if you have any desire to submit or learn about submission, Stone is the Dom you want.” “Davidson’s right.” Stone leaned forward. “We’ll go slow. I’ll check in with you a lot. By watching you, I’ll know when you’re at your limit, even if you don’t realize it. You’ll never be taken anywhere you don’t want to go, or any place I deem unsafe.” “I…” He couldn’t help himself. Desire for this woman with her intense green eyes and untamed auburn hair drove him to distraction. Standing, he crossed to Fagan and closed his hands around her shoulders. He helped her up until she stood facing him, her head tipped back to meet his gaze. Then he captured her head and kissed her long, hard, deep. Nothing punishing, nothing dominant, just gentle reassurance. She tasted of wine, spicy and rich. And then, moments later…of surrender. His cock pressed against his zipper, insistently, demandingly. Did she recognize her power? Fagan swayed toward him, taking the role of the aggressor. Her tongue plunged deep into his mouth. And he was suddenly commiserating with how desperate Davidson had been to orgasm. Eventually, she pulled away. “Oh. Hmm. Well. Wow.” “Just for the record,” he said, holding her close, one hand just above her rear, the other between her shoulder blades, “I want to have sex with you. Whether or not that happens is completely your call.”

I charge down the hall toward what might be the stupidest mistake of my life. I move through the sea of bodies, shrugging past the Latina dancer, a few of the French maids, then bump into my assistant’s handsy dance partner. I stare him down. He looks at me blankly. One thing I realize instantly? My gaydar is absolutely silent. He’s every bit as straight as I am. As he hovers protectively around Nia’s dressing room, I snarl and shoulder my way past him. He grabs my arm. “Where do you think you’re going?” “To see Nia. Let go.” His eyes narrow. “Is she expecting you?” No. In fact, I’m about to shock the hell out of her. I don’t know if I’ll be unwelcome, but I’m going to test Bas’s theory that she wants me. If he’s right…this could get messy really fast. I shake him off, barrel inside the room, and shut the door. Behind me, I immediately hear the asshole jimmying the knob. I throw my weight against the portal to keep him out and lock it behind me. Nia whirls to the sound of my intrusion, dressed in an inch of stage makeup, a silky white robe—and nothing else. The moment she recognizes me, her mouth drops open. Shock spreads across her face. “E-Evan?” “Nia.” I can’t find more words. I can’t do anything except stare and put one foot in front of the other. I certainly can’t defuse the anger and possessiveness I know I have no right to feel. “What are you doing here?” “That’s my question for you,” I growl. “Why the fuck are you taking your clothes off for strangers?” She rears back and blinks at me. I don’t think she’s ever heard me curse. I keep the office professional, totally aboveboard. But I can’t manage decorum now when she’s breathing hard and her nipples are poking her thin robe. She raises her chin and glares at me. Everything about her demeanor is like waving a red cape in front of a bull. “It’s burlesque, not stripping,” she snaps. “I don’t do this for money. I do it because I enjoy dancing.” “Yeah? You enjoy that asshole’s hands all over you, too?” Even though the logical side of my brain tells me I’m way out of line, I point at the door behind me and stalk closer to her. “You enjoy sex standing up with him?” Her nostrils flare. Her mouth presses into a firm line. “Last time I checked, boss, I don’t have to justify my personal life to you.” The fact she’s right only pisses me off more. “You do when your behavior reflects badly on Stratus Solutions.” She shoots me a quelling glare. “You’ll have to do better than that. No one in the audience knows who I am. I never take off my mask and I never use my real name. Nothing I do on stage can taint your reputation.” Arms crossed over her chest, she saunters closer. “Why don’t you be honest and tell me what’s really bothering you? I know you’re not this mad simply because I was dressed a little risqué and gyrated on stage with Kyle?” I debate the wisdom of blurting the truth. The rational part of my brain tells me to shut up, leave, and act on Monday like nothing happened tonight. Every other part of me knows that ship has sailed. My cock is especially eager to lay my cards on the table, grab Nia in my arms…and not worry about what happens next. “You’re right. I’m mad because I think you’ve fucked him.” She jerks as if I’ve slapped her. “Not that it’s any of your business, but we haven’t been together in almost two years. Thanks for letting me know you think I’m a whore.” Hearing I was right royally pisses me off. Having her put words in my mouth kills what’s left of my patience, stripping away anything resembling professional civility. I try not to squeeze her arms as I drag her close. “I never said that. Or thought it. I’m telling you that I can’t stand knowing he’s touched you. I don’t like the fact you still have anything to do with him. I don’t even understand why I’m here yelling and angry. I’m just…” How the hell do I put the storm raging inside me into words? No clue, but I need to get it all out somehow or I’m going to explode. “Jealous?” Soft surprise crosses her face. Something about her confusion rips the confession from me. “Yes.” “Because you…want me?” I grit my teeth and try again to think through the wisdom of spilling all this to her. But I can’t keep it in. The softness of warm silk and hot woman under my palms almost undoes me. “Yes. I know I shouldn’t. I’ve spent forty-eight hours telling myself what I’m feeling is ridiculous and I can’t allow this—whatever it is—into our perfectly comfortable, efficient working relationship. But I can’t turn it off. I can’t fight it. I can’t pretend it doesn’t exist.” “Is that what you’d rather do? Bury your head in the sand and not feel it?” She looks hurt. Her expression makes me feel like an asshole. Nia always asks insightful questions. Why should now be different? I shake my head. “For the first time in months—maybe years—I feel alive.” Nia stares at me in silence, her gaze fused to mine. I swear I see a hundred thoughts whip through her head. For once, I can’t read a single one. “Say something.” If she doesn’t soon, I don’t know what I’ll do. I don’t even know if I can be responsible for what happens next. “Have you been drinking?” “Not enough to drown out how much I want you.” “In spite of your opinion about my sexual past? And what about our working relationship?” She’s not wrong, but they’re barbed questions. I have to maneuver around them carefully. “Nothing matters to me except touching you right now.” Before Nia can chew on my answer and remember all the reasons she should say no, I pull her against me. She gasps. The instant her soft body makes contact with my hard, aching cock, I groan and hold her tighter, cupping her face and lowering my mouth to her parted lips.