Sweet Surrender (Sweet #1)(66)

“Okay, man, keep me posted, okay?”

“Will do. You just keep Faith safe and happy.”

Gray chuckled. “I’ll do my best.”

He slipped back inside and went in search of a piece of paper and a pen. After jotting a note for Faith, he eased back into the bedroom. He stared down at her sleeping face for a long moment, studying her features and how beautiful and peaceful she appeared.

Unable to resist, he leaned down and trailed a finger down her cheek. She stirred and leaned into his touch but didn’t awaken. He reluctantly drew away from her then left the note on the pillow next to her head.

When Faith awoke, Gray was no longer beside her. Bright sunlight blazed through the window, and she squinted against the glare.

When her gaze dropped to Gray’s pillow, she saw a single sheet of paper propped against it. She picked it up and saw Gray’s almost indecipherable scrawl.

When you wake up, come into the kitchen. I’ll have breakfast ready. Don’t put anything on.

She let the paper drift back down to the bed, and she felt the beginnings of a full-bodied blush coming on. Naked. If she was honest, she had no idea what to expect. He’d managed to keep her off balance so far. Instead of having sex, he’d spent the entire previous evening showering her with attention. She’d never felt so pampered and cared for in her life.

“Don’t be a chickenshit,” she muttered as she climbed out of bed.

She walked into the bathroom and quickly ran a brush through her hair. It didn’t need much. Gray had brushed it until it had shone. Now it fell down her back in soft waves.

She gazed at herself in the mirror. The woman who stared back fascinated her. There was a softness about her. A happy, radiant glow that was reflected in her eyes and smile.

She took a deep breath and left the bathroom. As she got closer to the kitchen, her pulse sped up, and a nervous tickle started rolling in her stomach.

He was standing by the bar, holding a skillet in one hand as he spooned eggs onto plates. When he looked up and made eye contact, her first instinct was to cover herself.

She halted several feet away and swallowed against the knot in her throat. He set the skillet down and wiped his hands on a dishrag. Then he stepped around the bar, his gaze roving up and down her naked body.

As the distance closed between them, her arms crept up to cover her br**sts.

“Good morning,” he murmured as he bent to kiss her.

His hands circled her wrists, and he pulled them down to her sides.

“Don’t hide. You’re much too beautiful for that. I want to look at you.”

Satisfaction was mirrored in his face as she blushed. Why he liked that about her, she’d never know. It seemed a little silly for a grown woman to blush as much as she did.

“Come, sit down, and we’ll eat,” he said as he tugged her toward the bar.

She followed him, her confusion building. She sat down, and he shoved a plate in front of her. Bacon, eggs and toast. And a tall glass of orange juice.

He sat down across from her and stared up at her with his gorgeous blue eyes. He was dressed, which put him at a distinct advantage in her mind. T-shirt and jeans, though he was barefooted, and for some reason, she found that sexy.

It was hard to concentrate on eating when she had no idea what to expect or what would happen next. He’d hardly fallen into the role of the dominant male. Quite the opposite, actually. He’d been clear that he expected things to go his way. What she hadn’t expected, however, was that his way had been to lavish attention on her. She’d worked herself up into quite a knotted mess when Gray looked over at her. He put his fork down.

“Faith, just ask. I can see a million questions running through your head.”

She smiled ruefully and set her fork down as well. “I guess I don’t know what to expect. I mean, I’m a little confused. It’s driving me crazy.”

He raised a brow and stared intently at her. “Did you expect to be kneeling? Have to ask permission to speak? Did you expect me to beat you before f**king your brains out?”

She winced at the crudity of his description, but she also knew he was partly right. A little embarrassed, she lowered her head and nodded.

She heard him sigh. When she looked back up, he was shaking his head.

“Faith, I’m not an ass**le. I’m not going to treat you like a piece of garbage. Ever. You don’t ever need permission to speak, for God’s sake. Kneeling is just dumb. There are lots of ways to show your submission and your respect and for me to return it as well. None of those include humiliation or ill treatment.”

A warm prickle spread over her cheeks as his eyes bored into her. He spoke earnestly, and it was clear he meant every single word.

“No doubt, there will be times when I push you,” he continued. “We both have fantasies. I like kink as much as the next guy, and I’ll expect you to do as I tell you, but this isn’t a game. I can’t stress that enough.

“I’m not your parent. Have no desire to be placed in that role. We’re both adults, and the petulant master/slave game bores me to tears. The little fake disobedient act so the master will punish the naughty little slave—it’s ridiculous. If and when I spank you, it’ll be because I like seeing my mark on your ass and because you’ll enjoy it. Not because you disobeyed me. You’re an adult with a mind of your own.”