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you are my submissive.” Every word had an edge, a terse sharpness, and this abrupt shift in his demeanor gave me goose bumps. “Every question is to be answered quickly and honestly. You will only speak when you are asked to do so, and whenever you do, you will refer to me as ‘Sir’. Am I understood?”
    I swallowed. “Yes.”
    His eyebrow lifted.
    I cleared my throat. “Yes, Sir.”
    “Good.” He laced his fingers together on top of his knee. “Nothing happens without my express permission or my order. You won’t touch me, move, speak, anything, unless I allow or demand it. Clear?”
    “Yes, Sir.”
    He smiled. The half-nod that followed sent a warm rush of relief through me. Only seconds into this, and already his approval or lack thereof made me react physically.
    “You won’t touch me,” he said. “But the same rule does not apply to me. As my submissive, you’ve given me permission to touch you any way I see fit. Have you consented to this?”
    “Yes, Sir.” Already, those two words slipped so easily off my tongue.
    Movement caught my attention and my eyes darted toward the window. Before I could see if Matt was there, Scott snapped his fingers. I jumped, and when our eyes met, his narrowed.
    “Look at me, not out there,” he growled. “Or I’ll close the shade.”
    I nodded. “I’m sorry, Sir.”
    “What are your safe words?”
    “Red and yellow, Sir.”
    “And what do they each mean?”
    “Red if I want to stop completely, yellow if I want to back off.” Another upward flick of his eyebrow prompted me to add, “Sir.”
    “Good.” He gave a slow nod. “Unbutton your shirt.”
    My heart raced. Excitement? Nerves? Both?
    “Was I unclear?” he asked.
    “No, Sir.”
    “Then…?”
    My face burned and my hands shook, but I did as he ordered. With every button, arousal and uncertainty fought for dominance. When the first button opened, my nerves tingled with anticipation. The second exposed the first hint of cleavage, and I wondered if I really was comfortable disrobing in front of Scott. The third let cool air touch between my breasts, and my nipples hardened beneath my bra. Oh yes, I wanted this.
    When my shirt was completely unbuttoned, I started to shrug it off.
    “Wait.”
    I froze and looked at him.
    “Did I tell you to take it off?”
    “No, Sir.” I tugged it back into place.
    “What is the rule about moving or doing anything?”
    “Not without your command or permission, Sir.”
    “Good. Now take it off.”
    Once my shirt was off, I nearly set it on the bed to get it out of the way, but waited, remembering his orders.
    “Put it on the bed.”
    I did as I was told, swallowing hard as the sense of exposure sank in. Matt had certainly seen this much and more but Scott hadn’t. Assuming Matt was watching, I wondered what he thought about this, about me slowly undressing in front of someone sitting casually by the window.
    The distance between Scott and me didn’t help my nerves. Had he been close to me, running his hands all over my bare skin, his eyes closed as he occupied himself with a long kiss, it would be different. But he was several feet away, fully dressed and looking at me. Under only his watchful eye and not his touch, I’d never been so exposed.
    “Are you doing okay?” With the gentleness in his voice, the veil lifted and for a moment, he was just Scott.
    “I’m okay, yes.”
    He cleared his throat. Sir was back.
    “I’m fine, Sir,” I said quickly.
    “Good.” He rose in one smooth, controlled motion, and started toward me. My heart beat faster as he approached. I willed myself to keep breathing while I waited for him to decide what happened next.
    Without speaking, he walked around me, stopping just beyond the reach of my peripheral vision. I silently begged him to touch me. A fingertip on my skin, a hand on my waist, something , but he denied me.
    “Take off your bra.”
    My shaking hands immediately obeyed in spite of the thoughts running through