...“You’ve forgotten what it means to let someone else take control. You’re spoiled.”

“And you’re the man to change that?” Pat’s voice was her instrument and she’d spent endless hours practicing. She could make her voice and her lungs do just about anything she wanted. Now, she needed steadiness and was pleased at the way her instrument reacted to her commands. Inside, she was quivering with anticipation and, incredibly, desire. “I don’t think so.”

Now his laugh was different, but it acted like an electric shock to her nerves. There was no denying what his voice and intensity were doing to her body. She was turned on. Her nipples were getting hard and her pussy wet. She saw the way his gaze clawed over her body and she knew he could see the evidence of her desire in the way her shirt, plastered against her nipples, showed every detail. Thankfully he wouldn’t be able to tell how wet her thong was. She studied his face, trying to discern something from behind his mask. That’s the only reason she saw the way his nostrils twitch, as if he’d scented something in the air. Suddenly she was certain he could tell she was wet as well. But just because her body betrayed her didn’t mean her will would do the same.

“Oh, you know I’m right. When is the last time a man has told you ‘no’? When was the last time a man has told you he is the only one responsible for your pleasure? When was the last time you gave someone control?”

Pat didn’t know how to answer his questions. If she told the truth, she was afraid it would change everything and she didn’t know if she could handle that. She did know, however, that she hadn’t been this intrigued and—she could admit to herself—aroused in longer than she could remember. She knew he wasn’t Sloan, but his voice, the way it lowered in pitch on certain words and phrases, told her what the mask and the change in posture and attitude had disguised. His voice wasn’t his instrument, but it was one she knew as well as her own.

“And you think you’re the man to do this, Geoff?”

There was a moment’s pause. Now that she had blown the surprise, would the fantasy end? She wasn’t a hundred percent certain she could handle the change, but she knew she wasn’t ready to end this before it started.

“I’m not Geoff here. You must call me Master.” He removed his mask.

Now the full import of what he was saying hit Pat. She looked at Geoff and wondered how she had ever missed the signs before. There was no doubt he was comfortable playing the role of Dom. The question was, could she play the submissive? Pat bit her bottom lip as she considered all the ramifications of this decision, not only on the personal front, but professionally as well.

He held himself still, and Pat knew that if she walked out the door, she would never have the chance to experience this side of Geoff again. Pat also had to decide if she had what it took to stay and do as he commanded. That was the true rub. Could she surrender all control to this man? She had never been able to do so before.

Pat took a deep breath and made the biggest leap of faith in her life.

“Yes, Master.”

“Come to me.”

Excitement pebbled along her skin. She kept having mental flashes of the Geoff she’d worked and traveled with for years, and those memories didn’t mesh with the man standing before her now. She didn’t know if she longed for the memories or the present.

“Now, Pat, or you leave.”

Her legs finally moved forward. She came to stand so close to him she could feel the brush of his arms, folded across his chest, against her breast when he or she breathed.

“That’s better.” His voice was soft, but there was no doubting the command in it. “Look at me.”

She raised her eyes to his and gasped when she felt one of his hands palm her left breast.

“Does that feel good?”

“Yes.” Why deny it when he could tell her response from the way her nipple hardened even more? She wasn’t small, despite the fact Sloan had complained incessantly about her breast size. He’d even gone so far as to suggest she think about implants. She forced him from her mind because he didn’t matter anymore. But she couldn’t help wondering if Geoff found her breasts unattractive.

“Yes, what?” he replied.

His fingers tweaked her now. She wished she could feel his skin against hers, even as she wondered if she could stand the pleasure. He was playing her like she was his bass guitar.

Pat bit her bottom lip. She was torn. She didn’t like the quivering submissive role. As if he could read her mind, he lifted his fingers from her nipple. He frowned at her, but didn’t say anything else.

“Master,” she acquiesced.