Haze (The Fosters of New York 2) - Page 52

"It's about your fuck pad."

"Fuck. Pad," he says the words separately, decisively. "What is that?"

I sigh heavily in jest as I look into his eyes. "It's the place you take all the ladies to when you want to nail them."

His brows cock in unison. "Nail them? No. Don't. My brother talks like that."

I smile at the expression on his face. "We'll start over. I have a question about the hotel room that you use to fuck women."

"Why are we talking about that?" He shifts beneath me. "It's a hotel that is owned by my family. I use the room occasionally to entertain."

"Call it what you will." I tap his shoulder. "I don't care about that. I was wondering about the bedroom."

"What about it?" I hear the uneasiness in his tone.

"There's a chest of drawers there. It's locked."

He scrubs the back of his neck with his palm. "Yes, I keep that locked."

"What's in it?"

He leans back, slightly breathless. That reaction should be all the answer I need but it's not. "I'd rather not discuss this, Isla. At least not right now."

His legs move beneath me. I stand up sensing that he needs me to. "That's fine. I was just curious."

He rises to his feet too. "We need to preface that conversation with one about your experiences."

"My experiences?" My hands leap to my chest. "I'm not sure I'm following. What experiences?"

"You enjoy being bound," he says quietly. "Restrained."

I nod, shifting nervously on my feet.

He rakes both hands through his hair. "You responded when I spanked you. Pain gets you off?"

"It depends who is administering it," I confess. "I liked when you did it."

"What else do you enjoy?" He drops his hands to sides. "Tell me what else you've done that you've liked."

This isn't the discussion I anticipated when I walked into his office. I honestly thought he'd tell me that he keeps dildos in those drawers to use on the women he brings there. The worst thing I imagined was that he'd confess to me that he collects the used panties he's ripped off all the women he's fucked there. I never imagined this would be turned around on me.

"I was in a sex swing once." I dart my index finger into the air. "That was hot."

His hands jump to his lips. "I'll keep that in mind. What else?"

"I once sucked a man off on a bus," I begin. "It was late and dark but…"

"No." His chest heaves. "I don't mean that."

"You asked." My hands dart to my hips. "I'm just telling you what I've done."

Before I can react his hands are on my biceps, gripping, tugging. "Have you ever been flogged, Isla? Has a man ever whipped you? Have you ever come from having hot wax dripped onto your skin?"

I shake my head slowly, ever so slowly from side-to-side.

"Nipple clamps? You've used though, yes?"

"No, sir."

Tags: Deborah Bladon The Fosters of New York Romance
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