How he loved her warped sense of humor. "Noel or Jason?"

  "Both," she said darkly. "Anyway, go on. I'm listening."

  Mac let out the breath he hadn't known he was holding. At least she was going to listen.

  ****

  Would he explain so she could understand? Holly knew she wanted Mac. Even listening to the stories whispered but never confirmed about his less than usual preferences, her clit had tingled, and her pussy swelled. She remembered one memorable occasion when... No. Do not go there, not now. Concentrate, not saturate. The way her wayward thoughts were still soaking her thong, Holly wasn't sure she'd be able to do either. Her body was covered in goose bumps, her nipples so hard it was a wonder they hadn't poked holes in her bra, and her breathing was erratic. One touch from him, anywhere on her body, and she'd jump him, or come on the spot.

  He had warned her he'd be back for her, but in truth, she hadn't really believed him. As the years passed and she watched his popularity grow, how could she even dare to hope he'd come home and claim her? Even though every summer he returned, spent time teasing her, tantalizing her, and telling her he'd be back, for the first few years, he did nothing more than kiss and cuddle. Then, once she was over twenty-one, the cuddles became more personal, the kisses deeper, and in her mind, they increased in intensity. Her body responded to each gentle—and not so gentle—touch. He encouraged her to explore his body as well as her own. Nonetheless, he never crossed what he called the defining line, however much she provoked him. This year, he had warned her he'd be home for Christmas. Holly hadn't dared believe him. Noel came without fail, jetting in from wherever their last concert had taken place. Mac never did.

  Once she'd asked him why he never came for the festive season. He'd smiled, gave a sad, lonely look, and said simply, "Not until I can celebrate with you in the way I need." Whatever she'd said after that, however much she'd pushed and prodded, he'd refused to elaborate. "You'll know when the time comes."

  Did this mean it was the time?

  A few weeks earlier, Holly had decided to have a day in Edinburgh. She loved the city in December. Christmas markets, mulled wine, an ice rink, and a big wheel. To say nothing of hunky stallholders, and usually a musical on at the Playhouse. Carol had decided to accompany her, and then dropped her bombshell. Scotialuna were playing a surprise gig, and she had tickets for them.

  Holly thought Noel must have sent them. Carol had said no, Mac had.

  And there after the show, he'd taken her to one side and said simply, "Now, Holls, it's time. Be ready." His kiss had marked her, rocked her to the core, and made her weak with longing. As she leaned into him, he ended the kiss, and she saw the regret in his eyes. "Not here and now. Soon."

  That brief meeting had been followed with flowers and an e-mail. Video Skype from backstage at Wembley and a phone call each night. All innocuous, nothing telling of his feelings, until he had turned up on her doorstep a week earlier.

  Her jaw dropped and so did her gaze at the smoldering and oh so dominant look he'd given her.

  Mac had stood in her hallway and told her starkly, "Holly, you know I want you. I have for years, and now's the time to ask if you want me." Her heart leaped, but before she had the chance to reply, he added, "It would be no straightforward relationship. In many ways, I'm not straightforward. I have very definite ideas about what I want from you. You need to think if you want to know what they are." She'd opened her mouth to ask questions, and he'd stopped them with a kiss that made her toes curl. When he stood back, she'd just stared.

  "Dominant, Holls. Think about it. If you want me, you'll submit to me. I'll be back, and we can talk. Read this please. Have faith." He handed her an envelope and left, leaving her standing, wide-eyed, looking at the open door. That had been it.

  Until tonight, when she'd glimpsed him across the village green, she still hadn't believed him. Even after she'd opened the damned envelope and seen his handwriting, she hadn't dared think of him in a positive way. Because how could she? After reading his ideas, what he needed from her, and not knowing if it was in her to do as he demanded, Holly had worried herself into not sleeping. He wouldn't come back and ask her. If he did, she couldn't say yes. Or could she? His demands made her itch to come, except there in the letter it said,

  “If you are thinking in any way positive about this, you do not come until I say so. Your climax belongs to me.”

  Even if she thought she might agree, she had no faith he would seek her out or that she truly was who he wanted. But she didn't make herself come.

  Now he was here and it was make-your-mind-up time. Her stomach jitterbugged as she drank in his image. Mac. Maybe soon-to-be her Mac. Her lips still tingled from his kiss—the rest of her just tingled.

  "Holly, I've wanted you ever since you turned from the long-legged skinny kid who whined when Noel and I went off and did boy things into this stunning teenager with curves. A body to drool over and an ass I want to paddle. For all the right—or wrong—reasons." He stopped speaking and took a mouthful of wine.

  His swallow made her mouth dry up. That simple movement, the way his throat moved, and the play of his muscles, was so erotic her skin heated, and her senses went into high alert.

  Hell, I have it bad if a simple swallow makes me think of sex. Of him swallowing me, me swallowing him, and—oh shit, I do have it bad.

  Mac cleared his throat. So caught up in the moment, Holly realized she'd missed what he'd said.

  "Sorry," she apologized. "I was miles away. So you're going to explain what you want? I'm ready to hear. I..." She hesitated. "To be honest, Mac, I'm interested, but I'm not sure I can be what you want. I'm no subservient. I like to be in charge. Hell, if I didn't, I'd never have left the village. I'd still be here, working for Mr. McKenzie as his typist. Not even a secretary or PA. Instead, I run my own recruitment agency in the city, have staff, and I'm happy."

  "Are you? Really?" he asked, his eyes more than curious. "I'd say that is only one small part of you."

  Holly decided she now knew the meaning of the expression “looked into your soul.” Her body was scorched by that look, her mind playing hopscotch as it jumped from one thought to another. She couldn't help it—she squirmed.

  "Happy? I'm not so sure you are," Mac said in a definite manner. Even though his voice was low, the ring of sincerity and authority was clear. "Not missing something in your life? I think you are. That indefinable spark has gone from you, Holly. I can provide it if you want. However, you need to be sure. Very, very sure. I'll stretch you, demand things of you that you didn't think you were capable of doing." He lowered his voice even more. "But in return, you'll learn how to fly. And we will be partners."

  Hmm...

  "You say that now, Mac, so define the partnership." She needed it spelled out. "Because how can you dominate me if are we equals? To me, that's a very unequal partnership."

  Mac lifted one hand in the air and his fingers splayed in what Holly decided was frustration with her.

  Well, tough. I need to understand.

  "No, Holly, that's where you're wrong. Okay, maybe some people want that, but the whole point of this is it will be our relationship. Ours," he stressed. "Designed by us, for us. There is no one-scene-fits-all here. I'd say ask ten couples what a Dom-sub relationship means to them, and you'll get fifteen different answers. But in each and every one, unless they specify differently, the sub is in charge every time. She or he calls the shots. Didn't you read my letter?"

  "Yes, but..." Holly stopped talking as he put a finger over his own lips, and then moved it to hers.

  "Shh, you always did talk too much. There are so may other things that gorgeous mouth could be doing."

  Holly had never before heard such determination in his voice. Oh shit. Her clit did the samba, and her pussy joined in at the pictures that rushed into her mind. She pushed them away and concentrated on what Mac was saying—or tried to. It wasn't easy when all she could see was a naked Mac bending over her and... No, no. Stop it already.

  "Will you hear me out? Please? Without interrupting?" he asked. Only the faint shake of the finger over her mouth showed how tense he was. Otherwise, he could have been asking her to make a cuppa. "Then you can ask anything you want."

  She nodded, and he lifted his finger far enough for her to speak. "Okay, but I'm not saying I'll agree with anything," she said in a rush as her words tumbled over each other. "And if I have questions after, you promise you'll answer them?"

  He looked shocked. "Ah, Holls, of course I will. As well as show you anything you need a demonstration of."

  That was what she was worried about. What if she didn't like the demonstrations? What if she did? His short descriptions of what he liked had her cream gathering and would have resulted in several sessions with her vibrator if he hadn't demanded that she not come. As it was, she was frustrated and jumpy. Holly wasn't a total innocent. Her experience with a hot male body might be almost nonexistent, but her experience with her purple friend wasn't. Carol might have Verne, but she had Roger the Rabbit. Or she had until Mac's letter. Poor Roger was now sadly neglected.

  "Yes, well, we'll see. Okay, Mac, go for it."

  Chapter Five

  Mac stood up and stalled for time while he poured another glass of the non alcoholic wine. He was thirsty, he needed it, and in case they were going to play, he had no intention of drinking alcohol. He was already drunk on the scent of her. It was heady, arousing, and kept his cock hard, ready, and straining the denim. It had been like that ever since he’d saw seen her earlier. Already he could feel his pre cum gather faster than ever, and he hoped to hell it didn't stain his jeans.

  Holly looked up at him from the cushion she sat on.

  "Wine?"

  She shook her head. "It’s too sweet for me.”

  “Merlot?”

  “No, not yet. Water, please."

  That's got to be a good sign, surely? He filled a glass with water and handed it to her.

  "You must be a mind reader." Mac gestured to the cushion. "Because that is your seat when, if," he corrected himself, "we scene. Do you understand that?"

  She swallowed and nodded. "Yes."

  Sir. Soon, I hope it will be yes, Sir.

  As much as he wanted pull her up to sit next to him, rub his thigh against her thigh, rest his hands on her shoulders, and stroke his fingers across her breasts, Mac forced himself to resume his seat on the chair. He needed to be able to see her reactions. Tonight, he was going to tell her everything.

  "Did you read my letter? All of it?"

  "Yes." Her voice was thready. She licked her lips, and the sight of her pink tongue tracing the contours of her mouth was enough to make him grip his wineglass so hard it was a wonder it didn't snap. Her skin was kissed with the sheen of her arousal, and the pulse in her neck beat out a staccato rhythm. Whatever she said to the contrary, his preferences intrigued and excited her. He swore he could sense her excitement in the scent.

  "Did you understand it?"

  She swallowed, her eyes dilated, and her hand shook so much her water danced dangerously near the rim of her glass. With exaggerated care, she set the vessel on the floor and stood up. Her fingers were clenched together so tightly the knuckles stood out white against her body. For the first time in his life, Mac knew true fear—gut-churning, pulse-racing, cock-shriveling fear. She was scared. Now, so was he.

  "Yes." Holly spoke softly, so low he had to concentrate to hear her. But it was definitely an affirmative.

  He wanted to punch the air. Jump up and down and run around the room shouting, "Yee hah!” and do a “yes, yes, yessss” Meg Ryan impression. Instead, he remained impassive.

  "Do you have questions?" It was definitely his Dom voice.

  It didn't faze Holly. Her eyes lit up, and she giggled. "Come on, Mac—er, I mean, well, maybe should I call you Sir?"

  Yes.

  "I'd like that, pet. I'd like it very much. If you're sure."

  "Well, Sir, I'm not sure. This is me. Of course I have questions. Oodles of them. But I'll add the Sir bit while I ask.""

  Oodles? Shit.

  "Then you better ask them. I’ll defer to you here. You know what you need explaining."

  A gust of wind made the fire spark and crackle. The sudden noise broke the tension, and he saw her jump, then deliberately calm herself. She cleared her throat self-consciously.

  "Ah, right." She put her hands inside her top and pulled out a crumpled piece of paper.

  Mac watched, bemused. What on earth was she doing?

  "My list," Holly explained. "I put it under my bra strap so I wouldn't lose it." Enlightenment dawned. He'd forgotten Holly's propensity for making lists. Everything from food shopping to a to-do-list, she had some sort of inventory.

  "So." She squinted at the piece of paper in her hand and then back at him. "Damn, I wish I had my lenses in."

  "Why don't you?" he asked, and realized they were moving away from the subject at hand. "No, it doesn't matter. I don't believe for one minute you haven't memorized what you want to ask."

  Holly flushed. He loved it. I'm going to make her that color all over. For a totally different reason.

  "Well, anyway, I have to have a day a week without them in, and because of the snow, I didn't put my glasses on. They're in Noel’s car with my wellies, I guess. And sod it, Mac—Sir, you know me too well," she said, and glared at him. He wouldn't have been surprised to see her stick her tongue out like she used to do when they were kids. Indignation was written all over her.

  Go on, do it, let me have a reason to spank that luscious ass straight away.

  Her hands moved as she talked, making shapes in the air, and her voice was high. "Why are you dominant?" she asked quickly. Her words ran into each other in her haste.

  "It's what I am." Lame, Mac. That's nowhere good enough an answer. "I need to be able to give you everything you want and need. I do that by showing you how to achieve it. I..." He hesitated. "Okay, let's go back to the beginning. Do you remember when we were teenagers? When I caught you smoking and I turned you over my knee and spanked you?"

  Her pout made his prick swell. Damn if his dick wasn't up and down like a tart's knickers.

  "Yeah," Holly said. "Twelve times, six on each butt cheek. I was so sore. I hated you."

  "So you said at the time. Once that first sting died down, though, you loved it, didn't you?" It was not a question. "All those arousing squirms and moans you made. They set me on fire. My cock was so hard, I had to go and fist myself after I left you. It was that or fuck you and have Noel kill me."

  To his amazement, she grinned.

  Bloody hell, she is such a mass of contradictions. I'm going to enjoy this...if this happens.

  "Yeah, well. Why do you think I pushed and prodded you every time we met after that? I wanted to see if I really had got—" She stopped talking suddenly.

  Mac decided it was time to move things forward—fast. "Wet? Turned on?" he suggested. "Tell me, pet. Let's start as if you are going to be my partner."

  Of course she picked up on his phrasing. "Partner? I thought you needed to be the one in charge. That you were the controller, and I was to be your..." She paused and licked her lips again.

  Damn, I wish she'd stop doing that. "My what?" he prompted when she didn't start speaking again.

  "Not your partner or equal," Holly said. Her voice was so low and, once more, he had to strain to hear her. She crinkled her sheet of paper in her hands. The rustle seemed to irritate her because she scrunched it up and handed it to him. "I don't need that. I know what it says. Now, you want me to bow down to you, to do what you demand. By my reckoning, then I'd just be your sub."

  "Dammit, Holly, I thought you'd fucking read my letter. Haven't you listened to anything I've said to you?" Mac ran his hands through his hair in exasperation. "You wouldn't be my just anything."

  He could tell she wasn't convinced. Her eyes were wide, and if he had to bet, he'd say the reason her lips were clamped shut was so they didn't tremble. Her teeth worried the skin. It took all of his will not to tell her to stop, not to worry. He'd go away and never approach her again. But he couldn't do it, because he had to know.

  "Okay," Mac said suddenly. "I give in. Have it your way. A Dom dominates, doesn't let his sub have a say in anything they do. That's me. I'm a Dom. I'm cruel, I overrule and bully my sub. I get my rocks off on inflicting pain for pain's sake. I'll hurt you, beat you, and you won't be able to do anything about it. I'll be the boss. I'll be in charge." He ignored her startled gasp and the flush that began to color her skin. He couldn't afford to wonder why it was there. "Is that what you want me to say? Okay, no problem, I can say it. It's only words. Yeah, horrible hateful words, but words can't kill you. They can maim you mentally, but shit, you think I'm capable of physically injuring you, so what does a little bit of mental torture matter?"

  Mac stood up and started to pace across the room. There was a red haze in front of his eyes, and he desperately wanted to throw something or smash his fist into the wall. At that moment, it didn't matter which, as long as he could get the hurt and pain he felt channeled into something else. How could Holly think that he would abuse her? His anger dissipated as fast as it had appeared, and he felt immense sadness wash over him. Mac stopped pacing and knelt on the floor in front of her. If he hadn't been so immersed in the moment, he might have seen some humor in the situation. As it was, all he wanted was to understand. He took a deep breath.

  "Hell, Holly, am I that sort of person? Is that what you think?"

  Chapter Six

  What? The words pierced like daggers into Holly's skin as she looked at the man kneeling on the floor in front of her. Mac was no supplicant, even in that position. He looked mean and angry, yes, but also hot and vulnerable. Her skin crawled with the thought of what she'd done. She knew without a shadow of a doubt Mac was not a bully or an abuser, so why had she provoked him?

  Because I don't want to make that decision. I don't want to admit I'm turned on by what he wants. Not even to herself could she admit she wanted to see what being a sub—no, his sub—would be like. Holly knew he didn't want anyone else to touch her. He'd made that clear over the years. She felt the same. Hell, she must be the only twenty-eight-year-old virgin with a propensity to tie herself up and fuck herself in the history of bondage. But to be open and admit it was something else entirely.

 

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