Tied With Me (With Me In Seattle)(44)

Jesus, I enjoy riling the man up.

“I’m not sure,” I reply softly. “Maybe I’m just nervous because I don’t know what to expect.”

“You can expect to see people having sex. Some are into hard-core fetishes. Others just like to watch. Look at me,” he repeats, and I comply immediately. “While we’re here, you’re mine to take care of implicitly. I won’t leave you, not for a minute. Your safe word is ‘red.’ And it’s important that you do as I say, not because I’m on a power trip, but because it could be for your safety.”

I swallow and nod, watching his hard, stern face.

God, he’s hot when he shifts into his role as Dominant.

“If you have a question, you ask me. I won’t make you kneel tonight. My name is Matt, not sir or master.”

“But you said…”

“Fuck what I said, Nic. This is you and me. Every relationship is different, remember?”

I nod and relax as I realize that I don’t have to play a role I’m not comfortable with. Our dynamic won’t change when we get inside.

“Will you want me to do…stuff?” I ask.

“I will want you to do whatever you’re comfortable with. With me. I don’t share, remember? And I’m not much of an exhibitionist.” He clicks us out of our seat belts, pushes his seat back and pulls me into his lap, holding me closely against him. “This is not meant to scare you, little one. We’re here to have fun, and if it’s not fun, or interesting to you, just say the word and we’ll go home.”

“I want to make you happy,” I admit and bury my face in his neck, breathing him in.

He’s dressed in a black button-down and slacks, much like he was the night I first met him. He smells clean and fresh and like Matt, soothing me.

“You do make me happy, baby. After tonight, if this is something you can’t or won’t do, we don’t ever have to come back.”

But the thought of him coming here on his own freaks me the f*ck out!

“Stop,” he commands and tilts my face up so I have no choice but to meet his gaze. “I don’t ever have to come back.”

“But…”

“Enough talk for now. Let’s go in.” He smiles widely and kisses my forehead. “Trust me.”

“My trusting you is the only reason I’m here.”

He stills for a moment and then kisses me softly, longingly. My thighs clench as he pushes his fingers into my hair and holds on tightly. Finally, he withdraws and rests his forehead against my own.

“Thank you for that.”

He leads me up to the door and rings the bell, and almost immediately a man answers. He’s maybe the biggest man I’ve ever seen in my life. Well over six and a half feet tall, as wide as the door frame, and his skin is a dark, rich mocha. Diamond studs wink from his ears, and a single gold chain with a thick cross hangs around his neck. He stares at us for a moment and then breaks into a smile.

“You look good with a woman on your arm, Montgomery.”

“I look good with this woman on my arm,” Matt agrees. “Nic, this is Reggie.”

“Are you security?” I ask with a grin and shake his hand as he leads us inside.

“I’m the beauty and the brawn around here,” he replies with a chuckle and winks at me, immediately setting me at ease. “Welcome to Temptation. Have fun.”

“Thanks, Reg.”

Matt takes my hand and leads me out of the foyer into a large great room. It must have originally been a family room. Music assaults my ears. Rihanna is singing about diamonds in the sky. It’s loud but not too loud that you can’t hear a conversation right next to you. The floors are hardwood, but that’s where the resemblance of a normal home ends. There is a bar along one wall with a tall man tending it.

There are deep-cushioned couches and chairs in reds and browns set about the dimly lit room in small groups, perfect for people to sit and chat. But in addition to that, there are stations around the edges of the room. One woman is naked, suspended from the ceiling and being smacked with a leather crop. I have no idea what the equipment is called, but it all has restraints attached, obviously to hold a person down while they get a good beating with some kind of instrument.

A shiver runs down my body.

“You’re not a masochist, baby,” Matt whispers in my ear.

My eyes whip up to meet his, and he smiles softly while brushing his finger down my jawline. “Your eyes are as big as saucers. Look”—he points to men in plain black T-shirts positioned about the room—“those guys are security. We call them dungeon masters. They make sure that nothing goes beyond what anyone is comfortable with. This is all consensual, Nic.”