Page 35 of Master My Love

Val:I’m looking forward to it, sir.

Eric:That’s my brave girl. Counting down the hours.

Val:Me too.

He didn’t text anymore, thankfully, because her next client had arrived—a 54-year-old widower trying to cope with the loss of his spouse, something she knew firsthand about.

She managed to stay focused and attentive. But only because when her thoughts kept drifting to her upcoming dinner with Eric or to the club where he’d done all those naughty yet incredibly erotic things to her body, she used the mindfulness techniques she taught her patients and concentrated on breathing. But six o’clock tomorrow couldn’t come soon enough.

Chapter 10

ERIC PULLED INTO THEdriveway of Valerie’s ranch-style house at 5:45 on Friday evening.He was early, his thirty-mile commute from LA to her home in Long Beach faster than he expected during the evening rush hour. His eagerness to spend a private evening with her outside of Decadence and a heavy foot on the gas pedal may have been a factor in the excellent time he’d made.

While making his way to her front door, he couldn’t help but admire her well-tended yard, full of evergreens, blooming plants, and ferns, and the baskets of flowers hanging from her porch. He smiled, picturing her tending her garden in a wide-brimmed floppy hat to protect her fair skin from the sun. There was a swing off to the side. He could imagine her relaxing there with a glass of wine in the evenings, waving at the neighbors out walking, or quietlywatching the world go by.

The welcoming coziness of her home filled him with a sense of contentment. As a Navy SEAL, traveling across the globe for years, he'd never considered putting down roots, but his needs changed as he got older and retired from active duty. Recently, he’d concluded he was missing out by not having a wife and family. Valerie seemed like home to him, or his idea of what a home should be.

At forty, she stood out from the other single women at the club. Many were giggly, flighty girls close to half his age interested in acting out their ownFifty Shades of Greyfantasies. Some, particularly the newbies, took one look at the dungeon—a bigger, more intense play room than Christian Grey ever dreamed of—and ran for the exit. The damn book was a blessing and a curse.

This was their motivation for open sub night, and they implemented it with two goals in mind: to increase membership and to differentiate the true submissive from those who were merely kink curious. Lucky for him, Val fell into the former category.

He rang her doorbell, wondering what was so special about the little suburbanite that had his cock hard 24/7 and made him seriously consider domesticity for the first time in his life. When Valerie opened the door, he got more than an inkling.

A soft smile lit her lovely face. Her fresh look, with only a hint of makeup, was a refreshing break from the heavy mascara and eyeliner favored by most subs at the club. Her long blonde hair hung loosely around her shoulders, the curls bouncing as she moved. She wore a sleeveless, clingy top, her skirt coming to mid-thigh. Her feet were in flats, some kind of thong sandal, and without heels, reminding him how tiny she was.

But it wasn’t only her physical beauty that appealed to him. It was her quick wit, the way her eyes sparkled with intelligence, and how she was daring enough to go after what she wanted that drew him in. That she’d taken everything he had given her, and came close to flying their first scene, boded well for their future together.

Noticing the tantalizing aroma emanating from her kitchen, he resolved to stop analyzing his sudden and intense attraction and simply enjoy her company.

“You’re right on time,Master Eric.” She swept her arm in a wide arc as she held open the door. “Welcome to my humble abode.”

“We’re not at the club,” he told her as he stepped inside. “We can be Eric and Valerie tonight.”

“Yes, master.” Her hand flew to her mouth. “I think maybe your lesson on titles the other day stuck. It also may have something to do with the vibe of authority you give off. I feel compelled to add a title of respect, like I would a police officer, a doctor,or a judge. But I’ll try to remember, mast—er, um, Eric, sir.” She frowned, completely flustered.

He raised his hand to her face and with his thumb, smoothed the vertical lines that had formed between her brows. “Relax, sprite. I want you to enjoy this evening with no pressure. Hearing my first name outside the club would please me.”

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