Page 16 of Snow Bound (Odyssey #1)

She wandered into the kitchen to pour herself a glass of wine, then carried it to the living room.

She stoked the fire, adding fresh wood from the neat stack on the hearth, then stretched out on the sofa to see if she could find something silly to watch while she waited for Grant to get back with the pizza.

The Fall Guy was playing on one of the streaming services, and that suited her mood. She cued it up, then found her mind wandering to where it had been most of the day— Grant .

Playing with him had been everything she’d hoped for on that first meeting—though there had been way more clit slapping than she’d anticipated. But she wasn’t mad about it. No , she thought, wiggling a little as the clit in question throbbed at the memory. She wasn’t mad about it at all.

She was a little mad there’d been no bondage. She liked ropes, liked tugging and pulling against restraints, even though she knew she couldn’t get out—maybe especially knowing that. The verbal restraint had been more frustrating, which was why he’d done it, the sneaky bastard.

He had a definite sadistic streak, and while that had been a surprise, she’d been just as surprised at how much she liked it.

She wouldn’t have had “play with a sadist” on her BDSM Bingo card, but once again, she wasn’t mad about it.

He wouldn’t let her get away with anything, and while that was a little scary—okay, it was a lot scary—it was exciting, too.

Like she might finally get to see how far she could go with this BDSM stuff.

He had a sense of humor, though, and that was no small thing.

Sass was her love language, and she tended to crack jokes when she was uncomfortable, so a humorless Dom wouldn’t suit her at all.

And he respected her boundaries, she mused, remembering how she’d panicked when he’d put his hand on her neck.

He’d stopped immediately to soothe and explain, and that had gone a long way toward forging trust.

She felt a connection with him, even beyond the physical. She felt as though she could be herself with him, and since that hadn’t happened during any of her visits to Odyssey , that alone was enough to make her want to do this.

And the four orgasms didn’t hurt.

The thought made her clit pulse again. “ Down , girl,” she muttered just as footsteps sounded on the wood behind her.

“What?” Grant said

“Nothing,” she said, turning to look, and froze.

He walked in the room with Henry trotting beside him, the dog focused on the pizza box Grant held in one hand.

He had a six pack of beer in the other, and was wearing worn jeans and a blue flannel shirt that made his eyes pop.

His hair was tousled, his cheeks a ruddy pink from the cold.

His bare cheeks, she realized with a jolt—he'd shaved, and with his cheeks smooth and bare, when he smiled at her, dimples flashed in his cheeks.

Two of them.

“Oh, come on,” she complained and sat up. “ What are those?”

He set the pizza and the beer on the coffee table. “ What are what?”

She waved at him. “ Those …divots in your face.”

He pulled a stack of take-out napkins out of his back pocket and tossed them on the pizza box. “ My dimples?”

"Dimples,” she said, disgusted. “ Two of them.”

“I’m sorry, are dimples a hard limit for you?” he inquired politely, the dimples in question winking at her impishly.

“Oh, shut up,” she muttered and resolutely faced the television. “ I’m not looking at you anymore.”

“Yes, you are,” he said and picking up the remote, turned off the TV . “ We’ve got things to discuss, and I’m afraid I have to insist on you looking at me while we do it.”

She scowled. “ Fine . But you’re not allowed to smile.”

His eyes twinkled, amused—and the damn dimples winked. “ It’s cute that you think you’re in charge.”

She just sighed and stood. “ I’ll go get plates.”

“Why? We can just eat out of the box.” He flipped open the pizza box, and Henry whined. “ Don’t even think about it.”

Anna sat back down. “ Aw . Can’t he have a little?”

Grant aimed a firm look first at Henry , then at her. “ No .”

“So mean,” she said with a shake of her head and plucked a slice from the box.

“Want a beer?”

“Sure,” she mumbled around a mouthful of hot cheese and took the offered bottle. “ Thanks .”

He scooped up his own slice and took a seat on the hearth. Henry , obviously recognizing Anna as the soft touch in the room, sidled around to her side of the coffee table.

“If you feed him any of that, he’s sleeping with you tonight,” Grant warned. “ And he doesn’t digest cheese well.”

Anna wrinkled her nose. “ What if I just give him my crust?”

“He’s still sleeping with you.”

“Sorry, puppy,” Anna told Henry and shifted her pizza out of his reach.

“Did you bring your list?”

“Oh. Yeah .” Juggling the slice, she pulled her phone out of her back pocket. “ It’s on here.”

“Text it to me,” he instructed and recited his phone number.

She sent the text, and a second later her phone dinged with a return message. “ That’s mine. Eat and read, then we’ll discuss.”

She opened his list, ignoring the hollow feeling in her stomach. It felt like it did when she got to the top of the roller coaster—that moment of no return, when falling was no longer a possibility, but inevitable.

She took a gulp of beer for courage and began to scroll.

The first couple of pages was nearly identical to the one she’d filled out that first night at Odyssey .

An extensive list, it held nearly every kink known to man—from abrasion to zip ties and everything in between.

But there was an extra bit of information included on his list that hadn’t been on the forms she’d filled out—next to each item he indicated interest in, he’d also had to include his skill level.

“Well, that’s helpful,” she murmured.

“What is?”

She glanced up. “ The , um, the skill rating.”

He reached for another slice of pizza. “ Michael’s idea. I updated it just a few months ago, but I went over it again this morning.”

He listed bondage as both high interest and high skill. Also listed as high interest and high skill were restraints, various forms of impact play, teasing, anal play, oral sex—she could attest—various types of pain play, role-playing, orgasm control—she could also attest—and co-topping.

“Co-topping?” she asked, lifting her head. “ How does that work?”

“Two tops, one bottom.” His dimples flashed. “ Double the fun.”

“Really?”

“It works best when both tops know each other well. Sometimes it’s a work in tandem thing, complementary skills, and sometimes it’s more of a teaching moment.

I once did a scene with someone whose submissive wanted to try mummification, but her Dom didn’t have any experience with it.

I got to play with an eager sub, her Dom got to learn a new skill, and she had two tops working to get her off. ”

“Well, when you put it like that,” she said and he laughed.

“I don’t think it’s going to come up here,” he said, “unless you know the neighbors a lot better than I do.”

“Um, no.”

“Any other questions?”

“Not really. Not now, anyway.”

“I’ve got a couple.”

“Okay.” She didn’t want it, but she took another slice of pizza so she’d have something to do with her hands. “ Shoot .”

“You crossed out ‘erotic humiliation’ and wrote ‘erotic embarrassment’, then added ‘being on display’.” He looked at her. “ Tell me about that.”

She took a bite, chewing slowly to give herself time to think. “ I guess they kind of go together,” she said when she’d swallowed. “ A lot of the things that come up with erotic humiliation are hard limits for me, like being insulted or degraded. And I don’t want to be objectified.”

“Not at all?”

“Okay, I do want to be objectified,” she admitted, and he laughed. “ But not literally treated as an object, like a piece of furniture or like I don’t matter.”

“Okay.”

“I like being called names,” she went on, his matter of fact attitude and responses making it easier to discuss this particular kink. “ Like when you called me a slut.”

“I remember.”

The heat in his eyes had her floundering for a moment. “ And being on display, well, that’s embarrassing. Especially if I can’t stop it.”

“Are you an exhibitionist?”

“I don’t think so.” She took another bite, thinking it through. “ I think it’s less that people are seeing me, and more about how they’re seeing me. And me not having any control over that.”

She huffed out a breath. “ Sorry . I’m not doing a very good job of explaining this.”

“No, you are. But these are edgy kinks, with potentially a lot of emotional baggage attached. I’m just trying to get a firm handle on what it means to you.”

He laid his phone down. “ Let’s talk about D /s.”

She got that top-of-the-roller-coaster feeling in her stomach again. Ignoring it, she jabbed a finger at him. “ I’m not doing anything that involves pee.”

Both dark eyebrows rose. “ Okay .”

“I’m not asking for permission to pee, you can’t watch me pee, and I’m only peeing in the toilet—by myself.” She struggled to think of any other scenarios he might come up with, then just decided to go with a blanket ban. “ Pee is off the table, in all its forms.”

His lips twitched. “ How many forms can pee take?”

“You know what I mean,” she muttered and grabbed her beer.

“Relax,” he said, lips still twitching. “ I have no interest in policing your bathroom habits. All I’m talking about is a few basic rules.”

She wanted to relax, but there was a look in his eye that had her at the top of the roller coaster again. “ Which are?”

“Starting tomorrow morning, you stay naked.”

Her eyes popped so wide, Grant had to bite his tongue to keep from laughing.

“Naked?” she finally said, her voice ringing with disbelief. “ As in nude? Without clothing?”

“As in.” He kept his voice mild, his expression sober. “ Any problems with that?”

He hadn’t thought her eyes could get any wider, but they did. “ Yes !”

“What are they?”

“In case you hadn’t noticed, it’s winter. There’s two feet of snow on the ground outside.” She pointed to the window and the white landscape beyond. “ I’m going to get cold.”

“If you do, you’ll tell me and I’ll fix it.” She scowled at that, and he had to bite back another laugh. “ Any other concerns?”

“Yes.”

He waited, but she just sat there staring at him like he’d sprouted an ear in the middle of his forehead. “ Are you going to tell me what they are?”

“I…” She lifted her hands, let them fall, confusion plain on her face. “ Why ?”

Not technically a concern, but he decided to let it go. “ You’ve agreed to give me control over your body for these two weeks, yes?”

She nodded—somewhat reluctantly, he thought. “ Yes .”

“I want you to remember that, and being naked is an easy way to accomplish that.” He pitched his voice low, forcing her to lean forward to hear him.

“ Your body belongs to me now, Anna . Your breasts are mine, your pussy is mine. Your ass is mine. I like being able to see what’s mine.

I like being able to touch it whenever I want. ”

Her mouth formed a silent O , and for a moment everything she was feeling—uncertainty, desire, excitement, a little fear—was naked on her face. “ Are you going to be naked, too?” she finally asked.

“No.”

Outrage had color blooming on her cheeks. “ Well , how is that fair?”

“It’s not,” he said simply. “ It’s not supposed to be. We’re trying to create a specific dynamic, and you naked—while I remain clothed—helps reinforce that.”

She didn’t love that, but he could see she understood it. “ That’s the only rule? Stay naked?”

“There are a couple more,” he said easily. “ You’ll need to ask for permission for certain things.”

She was eyeing him warily. “ Such as?”

“Drinking alcohol?—”

“How come?”

He let the interruption slide. “ Because if I have a scene planned, I need to know you’re sober for it.”

“Oh.” Some of the mutiny left her expression. “ I guess that makes sense.”

“You’ll need to ask permission to leave the house,” he continued. “ Not because I want to keep you locked up, but so I’ll know if you leave. It’s a safety issue.”

“I could just tell you,” she muttered, “but okay.”

“And you’ll need to ask permission to come.”

Her eyes popped wide again. “ Seriously ?”

“Seriously.” He hardened his voice. “ Your orgasms are mine, from here on. And that includes masturbating.”

She just stared at him, mouth agape, outrage in every line of her body.

“And if you’re amenable,” he continued blithely, “ I’d like you to do the cooking.”

“Oh, sure.” She threw her hands up. “ That I get a choice on.”

“You get a choice on all of it Anna ,” he reminded her, and since she was staring at the ceiling as though beseeching the heavens, allowed himself an amused smile. “ The choice is always yours.”

After a long moment she heaved a sigh and dropped her gaze from the ceiling. “ I’m not cooking naked.”

He barely caught the grin in time. “ You can wear an apron or a shirt when you’re in the kitchen, to protect your skin, and a napkin over your lap when we’re eating.”

She stared at him for a long moment, then jerked her head in a nod. “ All right.”

“Is that a yes? To all of it,” he clarified.

“That’s a conditional yes. We haven’t talked about what happens if I break your…” She paused for a beat. “ Rules .”

He bit back a grin, wondering what word she’d mentally inserted in front of rules . He didn’t think it was anything as benign as silly . “ Ah . Well , naturally, there would be consequences.”

Her nose wrinkled, adorably. “ Can you be specific?”

“I like a good spanking for punishment. Orgasm denial works too.”

“I hate orgasm denial,” she muttered.

“That’s what makes it punishment,” he pointed out. “ I like to tailor the punishment to fit the crime, so I can’t promise to stick to just those two. But I can promise that whatever I settle on won’t be worse. Good enough?”

“Good enough,” she decided, sitting up straight. “ From now until I go back to Chicago , I’ll be the s to your D .”

“Thank you,” he said soberly.

“You’re welcome,” she said equally seriously.

And Henry , sensing the humans were distracted, snuck in and snatched up the remaining pizza.

“Dammit, Henry !” Grant yelled, surging to his feet, but Henry was already galloping up the stairs, gobbling as he went.

“Fuck.” Defeated , Grant sat back down. “ He’s going to be farting all night. And what are you laughing at?”

Anna was giggling so hard she’d fallen over on the sofa. “ Nothing . Not a thing, Sir .”

“Suck up,” he grumbled, but he was smiling when he picked up his beer.

It was going to be an interesting two weeks.