“I’d argue the word cursed—nah, never mind. We’re talking about modern America here, which means cursed fits.” She hooked errant strands of hair behind her ear. “I have a feeling you’ll go gaga for high fructose corn syrup. And chocolate. And fries. Oh! And cheesecake.”
Jorlan’s empty stomach rumbled. He knew nothing about the foods she’d named, but he’d bet they were ambrosial. “You will prepare each item for me.”
Her sandy-colored eyebrows drew together. “Oh, I will, will I?”
Was she about to earn a punishment? Excitement mounted. “Aye. ’Tis so.” He nodded to assure her he meant what he said. “Woman, I am starved.”
“Trust me. You do not want me shopping or baking for you. In my current mood, I’m certain my saliva will be the number one ingredient in everything you eat.”
He preferred to get his saliva a different way, thank you very much. “In Imperia, seeing to a man’s needs is a woman’s only purpose in life.”
“Well, you aren’t in Imperia anymore. Lions and tigers and bears, oh my.”
What did animals have to do with anything? I—”
“Furthermore,” she interjected. “You, Jordie, are not—”
“Jorlan.” Every time she shortened his name, he felt like a bothersome child.
“—God’s gift to mankind.”
“Or I am.”
“Or you’re not. Do your muscles make smart girls stupid? Yes. Are you handsome? There’s no denying it without lying. But. Every time you open your mouth, your douchery knocks another point off your Not to Hot scale. Besides, if I want to get with an entitled prick, I role-play Tinderella and swipe right. Jordie.”
Entitled prick? And what did she mean, Tinderella and swipe right? “What I gather from your speech is…you consider me handsome.”
“That’s your takeaway?”
“Why? Were you trying to make a different point?”
Glaring now, she said, “If you’re hungry, you have an appetite. If you have an appetite, your body needs food to survive. How did you eat as a statue?”
“I didn’t. Magic sustained me.”
“Okay, great! You can cast another spell. There’s no way I’m cooking. I’d like us both to survive the night.”
“You will provide me with a weapon to hunt our food, or you will provide me with your world’s cuisine. No other option is acceptable.” He leaned toward her and said, “Refuse and you’ll earn a punishment. And, Katie? I truly hope you earn a punishment.”
Anyone else would have rushed to comply, either afraid of his wrath—or excited. Not his Katie.
My Katie? Well, aye. Eternal freedom, remember?
“You’re pretty close to earning a punishment yourself,” she muttered, playing nonchalant. She couldn’t mask her body’s reaction to his words, her breaths quickening, and the color returning to her cheeks.
Passion-fever? Katie…denying him an orgasm…aye. Sign me up.
The urge shocked him. Never, in the whole of his existence, had he craved such a thing. He’d always relished his role as a warrior prince, refusing to relinquish a single microcosm of control or power.
Going without pleasure for all these centuries must have rotted my brain.
“Very well,” he said, and nodded. “I will allow you to punish me. Take off your clothes.”
“Take off my— How do Imperians such as yourself punish others?”
“Orgasm denial.”
Her mouth opened, snapped closed. Opened, closed. Goose bumps spread over her skin. “Everyone keeps their clothes on. In a few minutes, we’ll drive to my home and—”
“This isn’t your home?” he asked, spreading his arms.
“Nope. I work here. Anyway. There’s food at home, and a comfortable guest room with a private bathroom. However, before we go, we’re going over the rules.”
Her lips were plump and red and when she spoke of intimate things, he wanted them wrapped around his shaft. “Do continue.”
No nonsense, she held up a finger. “Number one. You might be a ‘give orders’ kind of guy, but I’m a ‘take your orders and shove them’ kind of girl. That isn’t productive. You will obey me in all ways, and never tell me what to do. This is not negotiable.”
Oh, really? “Counteroffer. I’ll do whatever I please.”
Katie shook her head, hardened her expression, and lifted a second finger. “Two. Gain permission before touching.”
A rule he liked even less than the first. “Those are your edicts?”
“There’s one more.” She extended another finger. “Three. Always wear clothes.”
Jorlan crossed his arms over his chest. The warrior in him rebelled, for not even the great lord had dictated his actions to such a stunning degree.
How did one deal with such a brazen female?
The answer came to him in a flash, and he smirked.
“Well?” she prompted, anchoring her hands to her hips.
“I agree to your terms, katya.”
“Then you can get the heck— What?”
“I agree to your terms,” he repeated.
“You do?” Relief and happiness pulsed from her, her features suddenly bright and radiant. “I mean, thank you.”
Air hitched in his lungs, and his blood heated. He did his best to remain impenetrably guarded against her appeal. “I agree to your terms,” he repeated a second time, “with a few minor adjustments.”
She narrowed her eyes to slits. “To make a counteroffer, you need leverage. You have no leverage, Jorlan.”
“Do I not, then?” Since his nakedness had disconcerted her earlier, Jorlan unwound the cloth he’d secured to his waist, the material pooling on the floor.
Her cheeks flamed. “Okay, so, you have some leverage.”
“Number one. I will give you no unreasonable demands, as long as you do the same for me.”
She humphed and lifted her chin. “I’m certain our definitions of unreasonable are vastly different, but do go on.”
“Excellent point. I change my first adjustment. Neither one of us will issue any commands, then.” With purposeful strides, he closed the distance between them. “Number two…”
She raised her hand as if warding him off, and he stopped a heartbeat away. Her body heat enveloped him, her intoxicating scent fogging his brain.
Enjoying himself, he propped his arm on the wall and leaned closer. “I can touch you, but only if you touch me first, or beg for it.”
She snorted. Then she raked her gaze over him and gulped. “I’ll maintain my distance,” she said, averting her gaze, “because there’s no way I’ll beg for anyone’s touch, much less yours.”
Ignore the insult. Push your advantage. “Number three. Clothing is optional—for us both.”
At first, she didn’t respond. Thick, oppressive silence reigned.
Stubborn woman. “If my adjustments are not acceptable…” He purposely trailed off his voice, just as she’d done to him, letting her draw her own conclusion. “Break them. Earn that punishment. You know you want to. Or do you hope I’ll break yours?”