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submissive to touch him?
    She pulled off her “too tight” dress and threw a large T-shirt over her head. She didn’t usually sleep in clothes—too hot and too binding—but she wanted to work with her clay, pound the hell out of something before she crashed.
    The sun was just rising, and she’d been up for most of the night, but still she was too pissed to sleep. She grabbed a bag of clay from the trash bag she kept them in—they lasted longer if she added some water—and got out the rest of her supplies: slab base, rolling pin, clay cutter, forming tool, rib. She didn’t have a wheel in her apartment because it took up too much space in her tiny studio, but she could coil a pot pretty easily. She started with her hands pounding into the clay until she could roll it flat to make a base. She put that on the slab and then started in on the coils.
    Her hands moved automatically as she considered all that had happened that night. She knew next to nothing about Theo, and yet he’d pulled something out of her that no one ever had. But he didn’t fuck her. Of course, he also said he would see her again, which was markedly better than most of the Doms she’d played with over the past two years since starting to explore D/s.
    Still. She was beyond frustrated, and even the soothing feel of the clay didn’t do anything for her agitated nerves. She should call him and cancel the whole thing, tell him she wasn’t interested in fucking him. Tell him she could find any number of guys to fuck.
    She stepped away from her pot and went to wash her hands. Yes. She’d force him to come over and fuck her. She grabbed her phone and pressed his name.
    “No, brat,” he said as soon as he picked up. “I’m not going to fuck you, and if you call me again, I’m never going to fuck you. Go to bed. Think on what you’ve done wrong. When I next call you, I want an apology and a promise that you won’t do it again.”
    “But…”
    “No. I’ve made myself clear. Hang up the phone and wait to hear from me.”
    She clicked End and slumped onto her futon. He was cutting her off at every turn. She wanted to stomp her foot and scream, but that would just prove him right. She was being a brat. But why didn’t he want to fuck her? What was wrong with her?
    And she couldn’t stop thinking about that room he’d insisted she nap in. It wasn’t his room. There had been an attached bath, but it was clearly a guest room in a mansion, not the master suite. The bedspread had been white and almost too feminine. The room had been decorated luxuriously, but not with the sort of items one would expect to find in a man’s master bedroom. Did he always fuck his women in another room? Did he actually fuck them, and just not her? What was wrong with her?
    Her phone pinged in a text.
    Theo: I do want to fuck you, brat. I can’t stop thinking about that ass. But we do it on my time, not yours. Now be a good girl and go to bed.
    He was a mind reader. There was no other explanation. He’d just met her. He shouldn’t be so in tune with her that he knew her thoughts. She glanced at her sad pot and decided to give up. She was exhausted. All the fury from earlier was gone, and now she just wanted to go to bed and dream of the way he bit her and spanked her and made her scream her release.
    »»•««
    Four fucking days. He hadn’t called, texted, or reached out in any way for four fucking days. She was ready to claw her eyes out. She had been a total asshole to her students in class, to the point that one of the other instructors asked if she needed a few days off. She did not. She needed Theo to call her so they could schedule another scene together. No wonder the man was single. He was probably one of those “don’t call me, I’ll call you” types. She couldn’t believe she’d actually let herself hope this one would be different.
    There wasn’t anything to do about it. He’d opened up a door for her, and if he wasn’t going to walk in, then