Page 6 of Naughty Bedtime Stories

“Yes,” she said, leaning back in her chair. “It’s me.”

“How’s your father?”

It wasn’t what she expected, though she wasn’t sure what she’d expected. “The doctor says he’s where he should be at this stage of treatment, but he’s having a tough time.”

“And you?” he asked. “How are you?”

“I just hung up with my mother,” she said. “She found out I killed the Peppermint Patti product line, and she was upset.”

“We had a Peppermint Patti line, you know,” he said. “I killed it, too. They don’t sell. You did the right thing.”

“I know,” she said, “but hearing you say it is comforting. Though it shouldn’t be. I mean, you’re—”

“A friend, Sarah,” he said softly. “Let me come and pick you up. We can—”

“No,” she said quickly, her heart exploding in her chest. “No. I have work to do. I just, well, I needed to talk to someone who understands.”

Silence lingered a moment before he said, “Nothing happens that you don’t want to have happen with me, Sarah. If we never do more than talk—”

“I know,” she said. “Honestly, I really do know. And thank you, Ryan, for being a friend. And if you really aren’t a friend and I find out I am the biggest fool on the planet…I’m going to kick your butt.”

He laughed. “I’m not using you. In fact, I believe I’ve invited you to useme.”

A flutter of butterflies touched her stomach, heat rushing through her limbs, before she dared to say, “Right now, I’m not prepared to reach beyond my own imagination.”

“Are you telling me you’ve been fantasizing about me, Sarah?” he asked, his voice low and whiskey-rough.

“Maybe it’s that forbidden-fruit appeal you mentioned the other day,” she said, barely believing what was coming out of her mouth. “Or maybe I want…”

“Want what, Sarah?”

To be brave enough to act on those fantasies. But instead, she said, “I remember that night in Silk like it was yesterday. It was my first time, my only time, in a place like that. Is that the kind of place you frequent?”

“My tastes are far more refined and exclusive now than they were then,” he said softly. “I’m a member of a highly elite club, where discretion is as valued as pleasure.”

“I see.”

“What else do you want to know, Sarah?”

“You don’t mind me asking questions?”

“Youshouldask questions,” he said. “Choices should be educated.”

She liked that answer. “Okay then. What if I didn’t want to go to this club you are a part of?”

“Then we wouldn’t go,” he said. “But just so you know, we would have a private suite for play, where it’s just you and me.”

For play. Her stomach fluttered again at what that might mean.

“We don’t venture beyond that room unless I know you’re in your comfort zone,” he continued, “I push you, yes, but I protect you, too, Sarah.”

She absorbed it all, aroused, interested—terrified—needing to back away to think. A sense of desperateness rose inside her, and she quickly and without any semblance of smoothness changed the subject. “I’m closing twelve stores Monday.”

And to her utter shock, he shifted right along with her, asking all the right questions and offering some solid advice.They ended the call a quick hour later, and Sarah sat at her desk with his parting words replaying in her head.

When you’re ready, Sarah.

But she wasn’t sure she’d ever be ready to give up control, especially not to a man like Ryan, who might not ever give it back.

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