Chapter 17

I get the grand tour around Alistair's beautiful home.

Of course, I've been here once already but I didn't really get time to appreciate when I was stealing his clothes and raiding his fridge.

Aside from our agreement, I've no idea what I'm doing here. The man is absurd.

However what he did to me in the car — holy smokes. The man could light on fire, he's so hot. And if he wants to please me orally like a man on a mission, who am I to stop him? It would be considered rude mid-orgasm to say, ‘Uh, Mr. Devereaux, could you stop please?' I snort at the idea and Alistair turns to look at me.

"Something funny?"

I shake my head. "Nope."

"I'm sorry this is short notice." I can't even believe he's apologising. "But I feel much better knowing you're here and you're safe."

He's also taken on the role as my protector, for some unfathomable reason.

"Is my neighbourhood that abhorrent?"

He looks at me with those deep grey eyes. "It isn't safe."

"I've been there for almost six months and I've never had an incident."

"Best not to tempt fate, wouldn't you think?"

"Are you always this bossy?"

He's larger than life, I've come to realise. Standing in his ridiculous kitchen that looks like it belongs in some fancy magazine. His shoulders are wide-set, his shirt clings to his body and I try ever so hard not to let my eyes dip.

"I'm not bossy — I'm a realist. And the truth of the matter is, South Kensington is safe."

"For tonight it is," I mutter.

"What do you mean?"

"I'm going back there tomorrow, Alistair. It's where I live."

He looks like he doesn't think that's a very good idea but says nothing. "I'll show you to your room." Without asking, he picks up my weekender and carries it up the stairs to the second floor. "I'm sure you'll have everything you need. My chef will be here in the morning to make us breakfast."

"Wow, the service is excellent around here."

"He also makes meals for the week and I freeze them."

"I never figured you for the Tupperware king." I bite my lip to save from laughing.

Alistair is far from amused. He's so damn grumpy. I think he needs a little bit of sunshine in his life, it might perk him up a bit.

I turn the light on when we reach the huge guest suite. It's the same room I was in last night. I note the bedsheets have been changed and there's a new comforter on the bed.

"Do you have many guests?" I ask, as he puts my weekender on the end of the bed.

"Not often, no."

"So women don't stay over?" I'm sure if they did, it'd be in his bedroom.

He surprises me by saying, "Never."

"Oh."

"I lie. My sister stayed once with a friend when they got really drunk and rocked up on my doorstep."

"How is Layne?" I barely remember her. I only met her once at Christmas time — she's a few years older than me, but it seems like the polite thing to say.

His lips twitch. "She's fine."

"So in the morning, what time do you want me in the office to discuss… things?"

He turns to look down at me. "You're keen to start so soon?"

"Yep. I'm here, aren't I?"

His lips part and he looks like he's about to say something, but then his mouth clamps shut.

"You can say it, you know." I give him a pat on the arm like he's a frat boy and we're roommates.

"Say what?"

"Whatever you want to say."

"That you shouldn"t be here?"

I snort. "Then why did you bring me here? I was fine at my place." Grumpy pants.

"You know why. We're not going to go over it again." He seems tired. "I'm going to retire for the night."

I feel disappointment wash over me that he doesn't want to continue what he started in the car. I know how turned on he was, and my ass is still sore.

"I'll need that antiseptic," I remind him.

His eyes darken. "I'll do it for you."

"Alistair, I'm quite capable of…"

He storms past me as I trail off, returning a few moments later with the cream in his hand.

I need a shower, that much is certain. "I'm going to shower first. If you put it on now, it'll just wash off."

"So go shower."

I stare at him for a moment before I unzip my weekender and pull out my pyjamas. I brought my favourite teddy bear flannels — something I'm sure he won't appreciate.

He stares down at them in disbelief. "That's what you wear to bed?"

"Uh, yeah. They're warm and comfy."

His frown deepens.

I huff. "Not all of us can afford silks and satins, and it's overrated anyway."

His eyes meet mine again. "Have you ever slept in silk or satin before?"

"Uh…"

"Exactly."

I clear my throat. "What do you sleep in?" I know fine well after spying on him the other morning; his bare arse on display as I took a moment too long to admire it.

"I sleep naked, Charlize."

"You never get cold?"

"My house has central heating, so no."

The heating at our place wasn't always on this past winter — we couldn't afford it, but I keep that little detail to myself.

I wave my pjs at him. "Okay, I'll be back."

"I'll go fix a drink and I'll come back to apply the cream."

"If you really think it's necessary."

"I do."

"Is it a Dom/Sub thing? The aftercare?"

"Yes. I don't want to leave you sore and uncomfortable."

"If that's true, why did you spank me so much?"

His eyes are impenetrable as I study his face. A shudder runs through me at what I'd let this man do to me. "Because you were insolent… and I liked it. Did you like it, Charlize?"

"I squirted in your car — I think you know the answer to that."

He holds my chin, forcing it up so my eyes meet his. "Don't be embarrassed around me. You have a beautiful body and you come beautifully, too. We'll just have to get some towels for next time."

Next time… Oh, boy.

How fucking embarrassing. I want to curl up in a ball and die. I mean, it felt amazing, but that's not the point.

"Such a charmer." I flounce past him toward the bathroom. I need to escape and shower away my humiliation in private. I don't expect him to be there when I come out anyway.

I take my time, washing my hair with the Bottega Veneta shampoo and conditioner. Of course he has designer products in his guest shower. I wouldn't put it past him to have anything but the best.

I wince a little as the warm water hits my body, and my butt cheeks. I turn and have a look and I see they are still pink. I smile to myself. Alistair Devereaux really is a dark horse. I wash my body and when I'm done, I pull a soft, white fluffy towel around me.

The floors are heated and as I dry myself, I squirt some of the same Bottega Veneta body lotion on that smells like sandalwood and spice. He has good taste, at least.

I finger comb my hair and pull my pjs on, then I turn back to the bedroom.

He's still sitting there, looking at his phone. His head turns when I enter.

"Oh," I say. "I thought you'd have gone to bed."

"Come here."

I do as he says, standing before him as he pats the mattress next to him.

"You're really going to rub cream on my derrière?"

"Yes, Charlize. Let's not make a big deal out of it. Drop your pants and crawl over my knee."

Holy shit.This is just like in the car. I know for a fact that Alistair is obsessed with my — in his words — perfect little pussy. The idea that he's going to do this sends a rush of excitement through my body.

I do as he says, turning so my ass is facing him and I crawl over his lap. His eyes drop to my ass and he winces.

"I did go hard on you."

"I liked it."

"If you didn't, would you tell me?"

"Of course."

The cap comes off the tube and a few moments later, he's rubbing the stuff on my cheek. Oh God, that feels good, but different somehow; intimate.

"I meant what I said earlier; you never have to do anything you're not comfortable with."

"I appreciate that, but I'm also not a porcelain doll who can't be touched or played with. I want everything you have to give me."

"You might not be so sure when I get my cane out."

My breath hitches in my chest. "Your cane?"

"Don't worry. We'll work up to that."

"You really are into some kinky shit."

"Does that shock you?"

"No, but it makes me curious. I've always been very sexual, but the partners I've had haven't always met my needs, you know?"

"Did they always bring you to orgasm?"

I laugh. "No. Sometimes I faked it, to get it over with. Other times it was over so fast; they just wanted to get off. Like most men."

He makes a disgusted sound in the back of his throat. Of course, Alistair is the polar opposite to any other lover I've had before. I've never had a man do this, for example. After care? I think I could get used to it.

"I brought up some paracetamol, too," he says.

"That's very thoughtful of you."

I relish in the soft touch of his fingertips. Then, he shocks me by blowing on my cheeks. Fucking blowing!

"This needs to dry before you slide your pants back up."

"So I have to lay here with my arse hanging out?"

"Only for a few minutes."

"Won't you stay and talk to me?"

"It's late."

"What time do you get up?"

"Five-thirty."

"Wow. I might not see you for breakfast then."

He snorts a laugh. Finally! I wish he'd smile more. He's so handsome when he smiles.

"The chef will keep yours warm in the oven if you don't surface early enough. Help yourself if I'm gone after you leave. I'll send a car around eleven. If you want to use the gym, feel free."

"You have a gym?" I turn to look over my shoulder.

His eyes meet mine. "Of course. It's a hell of a lot easier working out from home than going out to the gym. I don't have that much time."

"I can imagine." I smile. "Well, thanks… uh, for the butt rub."

He smirks. "Anytime."

"See you tomorrow."

He stands, the creases in his pants apparent as he straightens himself out. It's then I notice he's hard. The fucking deviant. He got hard rubbing antiseptic on my butt?

This man…

I lift my eyes from his crotch to find him staring at me. "Goodnight, Charlize."

"Do you want me to do something about that?"

His lips part. He wets them and then says, "Not tonight."

Disappointment floods me. Why is he making this so weird? Surely he needs to get off. He was enjoying my punishment as much as I was.

"Well, if you change your mind — you know where I am."

His eyes trace down my body, landing on my ass as I make no attempt to move.

He swallows hard. I know he wants me. I just don't get why he's being so bloody polite. Swing me around like a ragdoll and plough my pussy — I don't freaking care. To have Alistair inside of me… what would that be like? I bet it's a lot like fucking heaven if his fingers are anything to go by.

When his eyes meet mine again, they're unreadable. This man is so difficult to read.

I've no idea what he's thinking half the time.

"Sleep tight."

"You too," I sing-song. "Don't let the bed bugs bite."

He shakes his head as I laugh, my eyes on his perfect ass the whole time he crosses the room.