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to my business dealings. It's just who I am.” I must have been making a face because he paused, making one of his own. “Wrong answer?”
    I looked down at my hands. I'd offended him again, and just like the first time, I didn't mean to. “No, it's not that.” I picked at my nails. “The way you talk about it, so sure in who you are and what you want--” I glanced up. “It's amazing.”
    My answer must have caught him off guard because his mouth hung open, like he was at a loss for words. He recovered, taking a swig of his beer and turning the tables on me. “How about you?”
    “What about me?”
    “How long have you known you weren't vanilla?”
    I dropped my eyes, fiddling with my hair. I knew it was too late to play coy, but I couldn't help it. I was raised by a father who turned pale every time I approached him with questions about the changes happening to my body. There was no sex talk, just an awkward 'wait until you're married' decree. I hadn't of course, but that wasn't exactly a freeing sexual experience either.
    I knew my answer would be lame, but I said it anyway. “I guess ever since the first time Jason--” I cut off when Logan's face darkened. The look of jealousy ravaging his handsome face made me swoon. “That's my ex,” I explained. “Whenever he touched me, I always felt like I was standing on the edge. Sometimes I'd even teeter, but he always pulled me back.” Be honest. “I guess he held me back. He probably would still be holding me back if he hadn't gotten bored with me and ended things.”
    The dark look on Logan’s face turned savage. “Any man that denied you is a complete and utter idiot.”
    I smiled weakly. “You sound so sure. You didn't even know I existed two days ago.”
    “Maybe not, but I knew from the moment I turned and saw you tasting me with your eyes that you were different,” he said smoothly. “A normal vanilla girl would have apologized profusely--”
    I remembered, finishing the thought. “But I didn't. I was mad at you for tempting me in the first place.” It seemed so natural, the sight of him so visceral and my body's reaction so powerful that I covered it with indignation. Could he be right about me?
    I shook my head. “Just because I want to spice things up in the bedroom doesn't mean I want the whole spice cabinet. I don't want to be spanked or strapped to something or branded--”
    “Branded?” he scoffed. “What bowels of Google gave you that gem?” He didn't wait for me to answer. “This lifestyle isn't one size fits all, Melissa. I don’t do cuddling, but I don’t do dungeons either. Personally, I have no interest in branding you or causing you intense pain. For me, domination is about control. It's about knowing someone inside and out, to the point that you know what they want, what they need without them even saying a word.”
    His words sent a shiver down my spine. “A-and submission?”
    “I'm not a submissive, so I can't speak to that.”
    “Well, what did your other submissives want?”
    “A gentleman doesn't kiss and tell,” he winked.
    My lips split into a grin. There he was, peeking out from the clouds.
    “As I said before, mileage varies. Submission means different things to different people.” He slid to the edge of his chair, staring at me intently. “Humor me. If you were a submissive, what would that mean for you? What are you looking for?”
    My answer was simple and immediate, like I'd been waiting for someone to ask me that question my whole life.
    “Surrender.” All the things I kept bottled up poured out of me. “I want someone who possesses me in every sense of the word. He can look at me and know if I need it hard and rough or gentle and…” I trailed off. My answer aligned with what he was searching for to a T.
    He was up, eyes alight with passion. “If I said I needed you, right now, what would you say?”
    I rose up, my legs steady. There were no thoughts other than our bodies moving as one.
    “I'm