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calm exterior as much as she was determined to pierce and shatter it.
    “She trained me how to both give and receive pleasure.”
    He swallowed. “Until I met her, I didn’t realize you had to be taught how to receive pleasure to get the most from it.”
    “It’s an art form,” she told him, her finger moving back and forth between the waist of his boxers and his hot skin.
    “For example, I learned a long time ago that men enjoy an orgasm far more if they are forced to hold off for some time.”
    She gave him a lazy smile. “Have you found that also?”
    “At…times.”
    As her fingers moved slightly lower, Clint’s body tensed even more. She tugged on the thin chain between the nipple clamps, pleased to see the muscles in his stomach flex and a dark flush suffuse his cheeks. His shoulders tensed, but he kept his hands in place at the nape of his neck.
    Montana leaned forward enough to take the lobe of his ear between her teeth and nip gently and watched a shudder race through Clint’s magnificent body. She drew in a deep breath, inhaling his fragrance, something very clean and woodsy mingled with the aroma of male and musk. Her pussy was soaked, and she wondered if he could smell the scent of her arousal. She was glad she was wearing jeans or her thighs would have been sliding together.
    Playing at Rawhide took the edge off her need to command, but this…this was what it was really all about.
    Having this kind of connection with a sub. She just had to make sure she held onto her own control here. Still, the pleasure of knowing this powerful man was completely at her mercy was an erotic rush that couldn’t be equaled.
    She glanced at his nipples, now darkened even more, and tugged on the chain again. Clint sucked in a breath but held his pose, even when she slid her hand into his boxers again and found the hot, hard length of his cock. And it was hot.
    And very, very hard. She squeezed gently, and he sucked in another breath.
    “You may move your hands enough to slide your jeans and short lowers,” she told him. “Down to your knees, so I can touch and fondle and slide my hands over every bit of that wonderful package you’ve got.”
    He lowered the zipper the rest of the way and lifted his ass from the chair just enough to slide everything down to his knees.
    Montana’s mouth went suddenly dry. She’d felt that cock with her fingers but seeing it, in all its glory, with the heavy sac beneath, took her breath away. A tiny bead of pre-cum escaped the slit. Clenching the muscles in her cunt to still their quivering, she reached over and with the tip of a finger spread the fluid smoothly over the dark, velvety head.
    There was nothing unusual in the gesture, not for either of them, but Montana looked in Clint’s dark eyes and something indefinable passed between them. At that moment, she knew they had crossed an invisible line and things between them would never be the same again.

Chapter Four
    Clint had his hands clasped behind his neck again, fingers tightly linked as excitement thrummed through his body. He’d argued with himself ever since Katie called with the invitation, knowing he was sticking his toe too close to the fire. The internal argument had continued all during drinks and dinner and coffee afterwards. And then he’d opened his fucking mouth and offered to drive Montana home and he knew he was burned. Not just singed but roasted.
    She had his number, for sure. Ever since his one disastrous relationship, he’d kept the essence of himself locked tightly deep inside. As long as he kept that distance he could avoid losing himself in anyone again. That’s why the club in Austin worked so well. For an hour he could give physical control to a clever Mistress and satisfy his sexual needs while keeping his emotions locked tightly away.
    So how to explain that he was sitting in Montana Steele’s kitchen with his pants down to his knees, feeling that somehow more was exposed than just his cock. And