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Authors: Fallon Blake

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“I’m terribly sorry. Matt is very clumsy sometimes. I’ll
make sure he keeps his chopsticks to himself,” Amber said as she dragged Matt
away from Indie’s table.

Indie watched them go, pitying the poor girl. She knew
firsthand what Amber was in for.

“I’m sorry about that,” Banner said.

“Don’t be, I’m used to it,” she told him casually.

“No, I can’t accept that. You should never compromise who
you are because someone chooses to cross the line, no matter who they are.
Value yourself more than that. Understood?”

“Perfectly,” she said and felt her lips curl into a soft
smile.

“That’s my girl. Now if anyone else touches you or makes an
inappropriate comment, please call one of the staff over and we’ll handle it.
Also, if you discreetly want to tell them to fuck off, you have my permission.
But try to refrain from shoving chopsticks into unpleasant orifices. It would
be an insurance nightmare for me,” he told her.

She laughed. “Yes sir.”

She caught a hint of something in his expression, but he
quickly shuttered it away before she could figure out what it was. Would she
get a better glimpse of what went on in that head of his if she agreed to his
proposition? She suddenly needed to know—the man, the chef…the dominant. The
last part made her throb with needy anticipation.

“Chef Faust?” she asked. God, even she could hear the
eagerness in her voice.

He answered her with a knowing smile. “Come to my office
when your shift is over. We have a few things to talk about.”

She bit her lip and let her gaze linger on that tight ass of
his as he walked away. Lance was so right about the eye candy. This was going
to be a very long night.

* * * * *

Banner heard a soft knock on his office door. “Come in.”

Indie stepped into the office and closed the door behind
her. The vulnerable girl he’d so carefully decorated had transformed into a sex
kitten. The black halter top she wore shoved her cleavage front and center and
her tight faded blue jeans flaunted her every curve.

“Indigo, please have a seat,” he said gesturing to the chair
across from his desk.

She sat down and crossed one spiked heel over the other. At
first glance she seemed confident, in control and he would have believed it had
she not had her bag clutched against her middle as if it were a life preserver.

“First, put your bag on the floor at your feet,” he said
with soft authority.

She looked confused but did as he requested.

“Now ease back into the chair, relax your shoulders and take
a deep breath.” He waited for her to comply before he continued. She did and he
could see the tension leave her as she exhaled. “That’s my girl. Better?”

“Yes. I’m sorry. I’m just…I’m a little nervous,” she
murmured then pursed her cherry red lips.

“I’d be worried if you weren’t. Before we begin, you want to
tell me about what happened this evening?” he asked, watching carefully for her
reaction. The sheer audacity of that prick fondling Indigo in plain view made
Banner’s blood turn to ice in his veins. Already he was possessive of her and
she wasn’t even his yet. He couldn’t decide if that was good or bad.
Instinctively, he’d marched over to protect her, but she’d done a damn good job
of showing him that she could handle it just fine on her own.

She grimaced and let out a deep sigh. “Matt is my ex. It
didn’t end well,” she stated, not going any further.

“I’m sorry.” Matt must have been a real piece of work. It
appeared that it still bothered her on some level, but Banner wouldn’t press
her about it. Not right now anyway.

“Yeah, me too. I’m sorry it took me so long to see what an
asshole he was. Well, still is.” She paused, probing him with her violet stare.
“Can I ask you a question?”

“Anything.”

“Why me? You could have anyone you want.”

“What you really want to know is why I chose you over one of
the other models, right?”

Her eyes narrowed skeptically as she looked at him. “That’s
part of it.”

She was intelligent and a little suspicious. Had she blindly
accepted his proposal, he’d have known immediately he’d pegged her all wrong.
If he wanted a real shot at making her his submissive, he’d have to play this
nice and easy at first, which was exactly why he’d told her three days. Three
days made it seem casual, as if it were nothing serious. But he had a very
distinct feeling that this would be anything but casual between them.

“It’s not because I thought you might be easier, so erase
that thought if it’s there. Aside from you being the most beautiful woman in
the room, it’s rare to find a natural submissive who isn’t a doormat. I have a
few days off since it’s the end of the season and I can’t think of anyone I’d
rather spend them with. It’s as simple as that, Indigo. Now let’s talk about
your limits.”

Her brow creased. “Um, I don’t know what my limits are.”

Either she was into hardcore BDSM and had no real limits or
she’d yet to have them tested. He’d bet his share of the restaurant it was the
latter. She didn’t strike him as a pain-hungry submissive. He’d played with a
few who fell into that category and heavy pain play wasn’t his kink. “Don’t
know or don’t have any?” he inquired.

“I’ve—I’ve never… God, by the way I’m stuttering you’d think
I was one of the brainless boob jobs out there.” She sighed as if she were
disgusted with herself then looked him directly in the eyes and continued. “I
know of the BDSM lifestyle, but haven’t had the chance to explore it for
myself. I’ve always been curious. I’ve just never met anyone I wanted to take
me there…until you.” She uttered the last words so quietly he almost missed
them.

The fact she wanted him to be the first to dominate her made
his dick swell. It was archaic and primitive, but he couldn’t help the
satisfaction that spread through him knowing he’d be the first to venture into
that territory with her. “You have no idea how much that pleases me.”

Her cheeks warmed to a soft pink. “I’m blushing again aren’t
I? I am so not the girl who blushes. I’m not shy. I mean I model for a fetish
agency. I’m happy with my body. I’m not embarrassed by it and it’s not like I’m
some virginal innocent. I should
not
be blushing now, but for some
reason I just can’t seem to help myself around you. And I should really just
shut up.” She forced out a breath, expanding her cheeks.

“No, you shouldn’t. Your candor is one of the reasons you’re
here. No pretenses, Indigo. There’s no need for that. If you feel like saying
something, please say it. I don’t think you’re the disrespectful or disobedient
type. It’ll be very nice not having vocal restrictions in place.”

Her brow creased again. “Vocal restrictions?”

“Yes. There are submissives who need strict rules about
speaking or they tend to say things for the sole purpose of receiving
punishment,” he informed her.

Indie looked positively appalled. “You’re joking.”

“Afraid not. I happen to like conversation so I tend to stay
away from bratty, masochistic submissives. You’re not a brat are you?”

A loud bawdy laugh burst out of her—the kind of laugh that
made him want to laugh right along with her. He was really going to enjoy this
woman. Three days might not be nearly enough, especially if she turned out to
be as natural and responsive as he thought she’d be.

“Maybe when I was a kid. Yeah sure. Trouble was kind of my
middle name. But I’m a big girl now and my bratty days are behind me.”

“We’ll see. Let’s talk about the rules. You’re to follow my
orders at all times. I’ll give you two safe words. You can use yellow for slow
down and red for stop. If there is something that you don’t think you’re
capable of, tell me. We’ll discuss it. Dom and dickhead are not synonymous with
me. Trust takes time and we’re sort of skipping ahead here so being open with
each other will be crucial. Do you think you can do that?”

“I can do that, but I haven’t been trained or anything. How
will I know…?”

“Don’t worry about protocols. I’ve never been big on them.
Just go with your instincts.”

“And you’re telling me that because you think I’m already
submissive by nature,” she stated.

“Yes, I do and saying that I’m eager to show you that side
of yourself would be the understatement of the century.”

The way she bit and worried that full lower lip of hers made
his dick twitch and demand attention. Innocence and intelligence wrapped up in
a beautiful lush package, and a submissive one at that. It was all he could do
to keep his ass in the chair when he really wanted to bend her over the desk
and fuck her right there in his office.

“I already have your medical history since it’s a
requirement here for
nyotaimori.
You’re on birth control, correct?”

She nodded.

“Good. I can tell you that I’m clean and have recently been
tested, but if you’d like to see for yourself my file is on the desk. I keep a
copy here at the office in case I’m ever injured on the job.”

“How do I know you’re not some deranged psychopath?” she
asked as she opened his file and began to go over the paperwork.

“It doesn’t say that in the file does it?” he asked with
mock horror and she answered with a smirk. “Incidentally I’m not a
deranged
psychopath
. But I wouldn’t want you to do anything that you don’t feel safe
about. Do you have someone you trust that you could leave my information with?”
he asked her.

Indie nodded. “My roommate, Aimee.”

He took an index card from one of the desk drawers and wrote
down his name, address and phone numbers. “When you go home to collect your
things, give this to Aimee. Tell her about our arrangement and that you’ll be
calling her the first night to check in. It’ll give you a safety net if you
feel like you need one.”

She seemed a bit puzzled as she took the card from him. “How
thorough of you and controlling, and strangely considerate.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment. Now before we finalize our
arrangement, are you able to take off work?”

“I don’t have anything scheduled for the next few days. I’ll
call my agent and tell her that I won’t be available to take any new
assignments.”

“Perfect. I’ll expect you at eight in the morning.” He gave
her a wicked grin. “And, Indie, pack light. You won’t be wearing clothing for
much of your stay.”

Chapter Three

 

Indie double checked the address as she pulled her old
beat-up VW Rabbit onto 55th Street. It was 7:49 a.m. Good. She’d be on time, a
near miracle for her since she’d overslept this morning. When she’d gone home
last night, she’d been so stirred up she couldn’t sleep. She hated to admit it,
but Banner had been right. She needed someone to talk to and who better than
Aimee?

Aimee, who had worse taste in lovers than she did, thought
Indie had been pulling some sort of prank when she’d told her about the
arrangement she’d made with Chef Faust. Together, they’d gone through many
boxes of tissues and dozens of cupcakes during the five years they’d lived
together. She’d given Indie exactly the push she’d needed last night when
second thoughts had her considering backing out.

God, she couldn’t believe she was really going to do this.
She was out of her mind. But as Aimee always said,
life is too short for
regrets,
and Indie had a feeling she’d regret not knowing this man. She
turned her car onto the drive of the address Banner had given her. The tires
crunched along the pebbled path as she drove slowly to the house. Just beyond
the entrance to the drive there was a forest of dense tropical foliage. Tall
bamboo grew in clumps, a variety of palm trees shaded the area and exotic
flowers grew everywhere.

Indie absolutely loved that the man kept surprising her. His
home was nothing short of breathtaking, but not in the way she’d expected at
all. She was so sure he’d have a huge waterfront mansion somewhere on South
Beach. Not a modest home in a quaint little neighborhood a stone’s throw from
Little Haiti. She felt a little guilty for judging him so harshly.

The Key West-style home sat hidden deep in the center of
what had to have been at least a double lot. It was a bright Caribbean blue
complete with a wraparound porch, white trim and a metal roof. It was as if
she’d entered a small slice of paradise instead of a property on the Upper East
Side of Miami.

Indie shut off the Rabbit’s engine and took a deep breath.
“You can do this, Indie. Just get your butt out of the car.” She leaned forward
and adjusted her cleavage, checked her lipstick in the mirror and smoothed her
hair down. She got out and brushed herself off.

Maybe the retro-style dress with its black piping and
plunging neckline was a bit much with the four-inch black patent leather pumps.
But she’d wanted to deliver the first punch when she walked in the door this
morning.

The heels were a little precarious on the loose pebbles, but
she managed to walk to the back of the car and retrieve her bags from the
trunk. He’d said not to worry too much about clothes, but it’s not as if she
would listen to that. Better to have and not need, than to need and not have.
She tried for a deep breath, but it was difficult with the brocade
under-the-bust corset she’d worn beneath her dress.

Indie loved the look and feel of a corset. A well-fitting
one flattened, molded and enhanced a figure that was less than perfect—like
hers for instance. Would Banner think the same way about how she looked in one?
Would he love her curves? He’d already seen her practically naked and on
display, but this was different. A shot of doubt raced through her. Why had he
chosen her? She couldn’t figure it out. This man…there was something about him
that made her feel vulnerable. Made her want to please him. Made her afraid to
disappoint him. And for some reason, all of that really got under her skin.

BOOK: WrappedAroundYourFinger
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