“Okay, yes, but I’m the one who came up with the lessons, and so far you’ve refused to follow the plans. Don’t give me that innocent look, Tyler. You know exactly what I’m talking about.”
He couldn’t argue with her there, but her plans were too single-minded and one-way for his taste. “You seemed to be having a good time.”
“Well…that’s the problem, too,” she admitted, turning her gorgeous mouth down in a worried little frown at the same time she turned into the discreetly marked parking lot for Slap & Tickle. “I lose my concentration when you don’t stick to the plan. I forget what I’m doing and focus on how you’re making me feel.” She parked and threw up her hands.
“And that’s a problem?” He asked the question gently, but his heart hammered in his chest. This wasn’t some detached, academic pursuit for her. She wanted it to be, but it wasn’t. Thank God, a voice drawled from somewhere in the back of his head.
“A big problem. I pay no attention to the lesson, my technique, none of it.” Shaking her head, she went on. “I’m afraid I’m not going to succeed at”—her eyes drifted away—“what I set out to accomplish.”
Fine by him if she didn’t succeed. Humiliating as it was to admit, the “other man” part of things was starting to seriously piss him off.
Frustrated with himself, and her, he pushed the thought away. “Unwad your panties, Sparky. You’re acing everything so far.”
She flinched a little at his sarcasm, and he instantly felt like a dick.
“Right,” she said softly, obviously not believing him.
“How can you doubt it? There’s a pretty reliable gauge of success right between my legs.”
“What happens between your legs can be an almost completely biological reaction, which tells me next to nothing about the quality of the experience or my, um…efforts.”
“You want a written evaluation?”
Somehow she managed to look exasperated and more than a little intrigued at the same time, and he couldn’t hold on to his annoyance.
“Feedback is always welcome, but mostly I need to get back on plan. For our next session, could you let me take the lead, and you just sort of consult as you see the need?”
“I’ll give it a shot, Doc.”
“Thank you,” she said primly, as if they weren’t discussing sex rules.
“So, do I need to grade the extracurricular stuff, like those sexy little sounds you make when you’re about to come, or are we ready to shop?”
She blushed and opened her door. “I’m ready to shop.”
“Oh, and Ellie?”
“Yes?”
“You can take the lead in bed, but I’m driving home.”
…
Standing in the “Tie Me Up, Tie Me Down” aisle at Slap & Tickle, staring at the mind-boggling selection of restraints on display, Ellie realized Tyler had done it yet again—taken her plans and turned them upside down. So much for the quick, list-driven shopping trip she’d envisioned.
How had he accomplished the feat this time? By bringing her here, where a seemingly simple item like wrist restraints led to a thousand decisions. The variables were astounding, in terms of construction, color, features, and embellishments. Leather or satin or standard-issue handcuffs? Lock and key or buckle or Velcro wrap? Her overstimulated imagination made the choice harder, because she kept picturing Tyler lying across her bed with his wrists bound above his head, completely at her mercy. She’d definitely be in the driver’s seat, so to speak. Just thinking about it made her shiver with anticipation.
The only thing she couldn’t clearly picture was the type of cuffs. The Velcro ones reminded her of medical restraints, which called to mind every off-the-meds schizophrenic who’d come through the ER during her rotation. Instant buzzkill. The leather belt-style versions looked like too much work.
“Which ones do you want?” he asked.
“I don’t know. The book didn’t specify and I had no idea there’d be so much variety. Which ones do you like?”
“I guess I’m a traditionalist, ’cause…” He slipped a pair of standard, law-enforcement-style handcuffs off the display rack. “They’re the most versatile, if you ever have to make a citizen’s arrest.”
She nodded, swallowing hard at the updated mental image of Tyler naked, handcuffed to her bed. To hell with the finish on her bed frame. A few more scratches would add character, she decided as he tossed the cuffs into the bordello-red browsing tote he’d snagged from the store’s supply on their way in.
They moved on to the “Love is Blind” aisle and she found the selection of blindfolds equally overwhelming. There were full-head hoods, hoods that covered the top half only, traditional blindfolds, and eye masks in every color, texture, and material imaginable. She looked over at Tyler and found him eyeing her.