“disobedient” implied.
She asked, “What is this, an interview?”
Ava hated interviews. She always had, even back in school. Especially back in school, when companies were recruiting from the graduating class. Most of her life had involved putting on a front, but somehow the interview setting just shined a spotlight on all the pretense, which made her feel like a total fake.
“Kinda. Stand there.” He pointed a few feet in front of him, right in front of the window.
“You know I hate interviews.”
“I know why you hated most interviews. I’m guessing it’s still for the same reason.”
She fumbled with her robe, cinching it tighter about her waist. That window was making her nervous. She thought she could see the shadows of inhabitants in other buildings, moving about in their own lives. Could they see her?
You’re just nervous in general, Ava. Calm down.
Jackson snapped his fingers, bringing her attention back to him. He had on a serious face, but she could tell there was a smile underneath it. He was enjoying this on several levels.
“You didn’t have time to snoop around very much, did you?” he said.
Ava blushed. “I didn’t snoop .”
“You see the chest over there?”
Ava had thought it was an end table, next to a chair positioned across from the sofa where Jackson sat. He was actually reclined quite comfortably, his white t-shirt stretched across his torso and his arms spread over the back of the couch. She tried to give him an irritated look, but even his arrogance was sexy. Infuriating.
“Now I do, yes,” she answered.
“Drag it over to where you are now.”
Ava almost made some smart remark, but thought better of it. This was what she had agreed to. “Yes, sir,” she said, though she couldn’t keep the sarcasm out of her voice completely.
“Careful, Ava.”
The chest wasn’t as heavy as it looked, but it was large and awkward, and it was nestled between that chair and a lamp, right up against the wall. There wasn’t a good place to grab hold of it. She struggled a bit, maneuvering it out to a place where she could grasp both sides. As she dragged it backwards into the center of the room, she stepped on the oversized robe, pulling it loose. It fell down over one shoulder, and she looked at the giant window again, and the view of New York. She moved to cover herself.
“Leave it alone,” Jackson said sharply.
Surprised, she turned back around to face him. His tone had changed again. She’d obeyed unquestioningly, automatically.
Jackson still leaned back on his expensive looking black sofa, relaxed but alert, his athletic body seeming to revel in the sheer physicality of being. But his eyes were gleaming. Attentive. Ava hugged what remained of the robe to her, already feeling naked.
“Open the chest,” he said.
Ava did. She couldn’t help but look inside, and, for a moment, she held her breath. It was a treasure trove of things she’d only seen online or read about in books. Ropes, harnesses, vibrators (she had greater familiarity with some of those), handcuffs, all sorts of leather things, a black bar. They all passed by in a blur of potential. She felt slightly dizzy, and her heart beat uncomfortably in her chest. She couldn’t tell if she was excited or afraid.
“Ava, pay attention.” She looked back to Jackson. The chest’s contents made her feel inexperienced and unprepared, aroused and apprehensive. She was glad not to have to look at it anymore.
“I have two sets of questions for you. To the first, you will answer yes or no,” he said, and she glanced at the legal pad. “But you will answer without knowing what the questions are.”
She looked at him. “What?”
“Exactly what I said. First, reach into the chest and pull out the first thing you touch. Don’t look. Do it blind.”
Ava turned toward the chest without thinking, her hand reaching down.
“I said: don’t look.”
His voice cracked the suddenly still air, and again, without
She asked, “What is this, an interview?”
Ava hated interviews. She always had, even back in school. Especially back in school, when companies were recruiting from the graduating class. Most of her life had involved putting on a front, but somehow the interview setting just shined a spotlight on all the pretense, which made her feel like a total fake.
“Kinda. Stand there.” He pointed a few feet in front of him, right in front of the window.
“You know I hate interviews.”
“I know why you hated most interviews. I’m guessing it’s still for the same reason.”
She fumbled with her robe, cinching it tighter about her waist. That window was making her nervous. She thought she could see the shadows of inhabitants in other buildings, moving about in their own lives. Could they see her?
You’re just nervous in general, Ava. Calm down.
Jackson snapped his fingers, bringing her attention back to him. He had on a serious face, but she could tell there was a smile underneath it. He was enjoying this on several levels.
“You didn’t have time to snoop around very much, did you?” he said.
Ava blushed. “I didn’t snoop .”
“You see the chest over there?”
Ava had thought it was an end table, next to a chair positioned across from the sofa where Jackson sat. He was actually reclined quite comfortably, his white t-shirt stretched across his torso and his arms spread over the back of the couch. She tried to give him an irritated look, but even his arrogance was sexy. Infuriating.
“Now I do, yes,” she answered.
“Drag it over to where you are now.”
Ava almost made some smart remark, but thought better of it. This was what she had agreed to. “Yes, sir,” she said, though she couldn’t keep the sarcasm out of her voice completely.
“Careful, Ava.”
The chest wasn’t as heavy as it looked, but it was large and awkward, and it was nestled between that chair and a lamp, right up against the wall. There wasn’t a good place to grab hold of it. She struggled a bit, maneuvering it out to a place where she could grasp both sides. As she dragged it backwards into the center of the room, she stepped on the oversized robe, pulling it loose. It fell down over one shoulder, and she looked at the giant window again, and the view of New York. She moved to cover herself.
“Leave it alone,” Jackson said sharply.
Surprised, she turned back around to face him. His tone had changed again. She’d obeyed unquestioningly, automatically.
Jackson still leaned back on his expensive looking black sofa, relaxed but alert, his athletic body seeming to revel in the sheer physicality of being. But his eyes were gleaming. Attentive. Ava hugged what remained of the robe to her, already feeling naked.
“Open the chest,” he said.
Ava did. She couldn’t help but look inside, and, for a moment, she held her breath. It was a treasure trove of things she’d only seen online or read about in books. Ropes, harnesses, vibrators (she had greater familiarity with some of those), handcuffs, all sorts of leather things, a black bar. They all passed by in a blur of potential. She felt slightly dizzy, and her heart beat uncomfortably in her chest. She couldn’t tell if she was excited or afraid.
“Ava, pay attention.” She looked back to Jackson. The chest’s contents made her feel inexperienced and unprepared, aroused and apprehensive. She was glad not to have to look at it anymore.
“I have two sets of questions for you. To the first, you will answer yes or no,” he said, and she glanced at the legal pad. “But you will answer without knowing what the questions are.”
She looked at him. “What?”
“Exactly what I said. First, reach into the chest and pull out the first thing you touch. Don’t look. Do it blind.”
Ava turned toward the chest without thinking, her hand reaching down.
“I said: don’t look.”
His voice cracked the suddenly still air, and again, without
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