Let me tease you...

It's mid week tease time

And let's see shall we,

Can you Bow to your Partner?

A knock came on the door and Mason jumped. She'd been so involved with her thoughts and feelings she'd forgotten a table was due to become available.

Callan looked away from Mason and glared at the door. He crossed his arms over his chest and said nothing. Mason couldn't take her eyes off the way his jacket stretched over his taut abs. Hells bells, what would he look like stripped? Don't even think of it. However, those tantalizing pictures were flickering through her mind like an X- rated movie.

"Aren't you going to tell whoever's out there to come in?" Mason asked him in desperation after several long seconds. "You know, in case it’s a fireman to say the building's on fire. Marco's used the blowtorch on his Italian Meringue and got torching happy or something like that. I'd sort of prefer to get out in that case." Anything to get my mind out of the gutter, and away from his assets. She didn't mean his financial ones either.

He didn't even crack a smile. "The fire escape is outside the window," he said. "And the alarm hasn't sounded."Oh, for fuck’s sake, state the obvious, why don't you. I can hear an alarm in my head and it's screaming run. Too late for that. "Yeah, of course. Oh dear, silly me." She always did have a good line in sarcasm. In the past it was the one thing guaranteed to make Michael act. If only...

The brief look Callan gave her before he resumed his perusal of the door should have made her shiver in fear. She shivered all right, but not in fear. It was a pure I am the boss. Do not mess with me, do as I say or else look. Mason wanted to cry. It was so similar to Michael in his best I am in control mood, it sent signals to her channel and her thong chafed. If she weren't careful, she'd be rather damp and uncomfortable, wriggling in her undies soaked with her juices. His voice did things to her psyche—and her pussy—she'd prefer to ignore. She chose to try and do something to take her mind off his gravelly diction and coffee and chocolate tones.

"Oh shoot, if you don’t answer the door, I will." Mason rolled her eyes, and he stiffened. Good, at least she'd got another reaction out of him. His lack of visible shows and tells regarding his state of mind pissed her off. "It doesn't matter how long or hard you stare at it, the wood is thick." A bit like you. "Unless you have ESP or whatever it's called, you can't see through it. And your Mr. Macho act will come grinding to a halt, eh?"

He turned around in one elegant sweep and looked her in the eye. The tiny flecks of gold she'd noticed in his otherwise brown irises flickered, and he frowned. Even that forbidding expression made her clit tingle, and her juices dampened her curls.

"Don't you dare, not if you value your hide." His voice could curdle eggs. "I'd like nothing better to push that tease of a dress up, push down whatever is covering that hot little bot, and spank your ass until it's the color of your nails. Now sit on the settee, cross your legs and behave."

She knew damned well her jaw dropped.

"Wha—" Who the... She dipped her head and jerked it up again. Oh no, no way. She decided perhaps she'd shut up. For now. Her heart might refuse to recognize his attitude, but her subconscious had no such problems. Don't you dare kneel; he'll think you're a fruitcake. Or a sub? She bit her lip.

"Good girl." He'd obviously seen her instinctive need to lower her head. His smile was one hundred percent Dom, and two hundred percent sinful.

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and just look who's teasing...

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