“I’m going to send you one.”
The gift thing bothered her, and she started to point that out.
His eyes went hard. “I’m your Dom. This part is up to me. I’m sending you a vibrator. You will use it at my request.”
It appeared there were some things her top wouldn’t be moved on. And it was part of the training. “All right, but I’ll buy the coffee next time.”
Next time she would be prepared. And she would have gotten paid. She had to get into a better mindset. Not every man who offered to buy her coffee thought they were paying her for sex. Michael probably didn’t have to since she was crazy attracted to him, and she didn’t think she would be able to hold out for long.
Even after the crappy night she’d had cleaning up glass and thinking about how everyone in her neighborhood seemed to know how to properly spell the word whore, she’d thought about him. After she’d gotten into bed, she hadn’t been able to stop thinking about how he’d touched her, how their breath seemed to mingle, and for a moment the world had seemed softer and warmer than it had before.
She wanted to steal this time with him. She knew it wouldn’t last, and she feared it made her everything people thought she was, but she was going to do it.
She was going to seduce her training Dom and hope he didn’t hate her at the end because he was the best thing that had happened to her in a long time. Even when he’d irritated her earlier, he’d listened and seemed to understand and accept her point of view.
He brought her hand up to his lips and kissed the back briefly. “I’m glad we spent this time together. And thank you for sharing with me. You can absolutely pick up the coffee next time. I’m looking forward to talking to you tonight, Vanessa.”
Her heart actually did a flippity-flop, and she’d been pretty sure the thing was dead before. He was dangerous, but she couldn’t make herself walk away. “I’m looking forward to it, too, Sir.”
He glanced down at his phone and then stood. “I’m going to hit the head before I go. Wait for me, and I’ll walk you back to your office.”
He was definitely still a Navy man. She nodded and he walked away, leaving her with a warm feeling.
That faded when she saw the man outside the café window. He stood there, a hand over his eyes as though trying to see inside. There was a camera around his neck.
Her heart thudded again but for a completely different reason.
The young woman who’d been sitting at the back of the café had packed up her book and picked up her yoga mat. She walked past Vanessa’s table as a second person joined the photographer.
She had to get out of here. Someone had recognized her and called the press in, and where one went there were always two or three more. If she didn’t get out now, they would follow her back to Lodge Corp, and then what would she do? They would know where to look for her. Only the damn gate kept them out of her front yard.
Panic threatened, and she could feel adrenaline coursing through her.
She picked up her purse and shoved her sunglasses on. The other woman was moving through the door and the photographer had looked up, his head swerving like a predator scenting prey.
Vanessa moved in behind Yoga Girl. She would slip behind her and get to the alleyway. She’d noticed it as she’d approached the café an hour and a half before. She always tried to find multiple escape routes out of any building she was in. If she’d thought she had time, she would have asked the owner to let her go out the back way, but then the owner might be the very person who’d called the press.
She would take the alley to the next block and try to find a cab, even though she couldn’t afford one.
She had to force herself to breathe, to shove the anxiety down. She could freak out later. Right now she needed to get away.
“Hey, what are you doing?” Yoga Girl was staring down the photographer and his friend. And now there was a third person.
Vanessa slipped behind her, keeping her head low. She heard the bell over the door jingle, and someone exiting after her. Michael? She didn’t dare look back. She simply moved forward as Yoga Girl started to argue with the photographer, who was asking about whether or not she’d seen Vanessa Hale and explaining the First Amendment to her.
Vanessa jogged the last few steps to the alleyway and turned. She could feel the breath sawing in and out of her chest. She was going to make it. It would be okay.