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her arms. “So you still
want to do this? Me as your sub?”
    “Yes, MacKensie . We will continue, and earlier
than I had anticipated. I received a call this morning from Peter. A friend is having
a party at the club tonight, and Cynthia, the woman I told you about, plans to
attend.”
    “Tonight? You
must be joking.” Mac's orderly thoughts scattered into the corners of her mind.
“But…but…I don't have clothes; I don't know what to do. I—”
    “No problem.
Do you have any interviews today?”
    The
thought of lying crossed her mind and disappeared under the slight narrowing of
his eyes. “No. I set everything up for Monday.”
    “Excellent.
Then today we'll go shopping.”
    “We?”
    “Oh yes,
pet. Definitely 'we.'”
    * * * * *
    Later that
day, Alex suppressed a grin as MacKensie wandered
past latex corsets and leather bustiers , rubber
miniskirts and thigh-high boots. And then he chose clothing for her to suit his
preferences. She might as well start learning some of the various forms
submission could entail. Lucky for her, he didn't enjoy twenty-four-hour
mastery. Unlucky for her, he did occasionally enjoy dominance outside of the
bedroom.
    Like
now.
    “ MacKensie .”
    She
turned, and her eyes widened at the garments he held out to her.
    “Put these
on. I'll wait outside the door to see if they fit.”
    Her eyes
narrowed, spine straightening until her height increased by almost an inch,
which still left her half a foot shorter than he was. “I choose my own
clothing, and I judge whether it fits.”
    “Not this
time, pet.” Alex kept his voice soft.
    Not being
at all slow, she caught the command. With a glare, she snatched the clothes and
stalked into an empty fitting room.
    She
probably didn't realize the allure of a woman's ass when she's stomping. Or how
arousing a sub's defiance could be to a dominant. And this one—he shook his
head—could prove to be quite a trial to his control. He'd topped subs before
and kept the interaction platonic; not everything had to be about sex, after
all. But there was definitely a sexual component in the dynamics between him
and MacKensie . She pulled at him— strongly —and he could see the same pull in her. But she didn't want
to recognize that.
    If she
truly felt no attraction to him, he wouldn't think twice about observing her
restrictions. But if fear corralled her sexuality? Then that was part of a Dom's mandate—to explore those fears. But only if he had her trust to do so.
    So he
needed to gauge the attraction, help her see that in herself, and earn her
trust. Enjoying the thought of a challenge, he leaned against the door frame to
wait.
    When she
appeared, he knew it had been worth the wait. An embarrassed flush highlighted
her cheekbones almost as nicely as the French-maid's corset showcased her round
breasts. The white lace and ribbon decorating the black latex gave her a
fragile appearance, one that would be accentuated when she had on the garters
and G-string that she held in her hand along with the other accessories.
    “That will
do nicely,” he said.
    “You
cannot be serious.” Her brown eyes sparked with indignation. “I'm not going
to—”
    When he
lifted his eyebrows, she managed to cut off the rest of her protest.
    “Wait in
there,” he said. “You'll need at least one more outfit.”
    She
actually growled as she retreated.
    * * * * *
    “Surely Nordstroms doesn't have kinky clothing,” MacKensie said. As they entered the fancy department store,
she was all too aware of Alex's guiding hand on her lower back. He touched
her—often—and always stood just a few inches too close. She knew he did it
deliberately. Since he'd done nothing blatantly sexual that she could challenge
him on, she tried to pretend his actions didn't unsettle her.
    He bent
down to murmur in her ear, his warm breath washing across her neck and making
the hairs on her arms rise. “We're done with kink. Now we're shopping for
formal wear for the party you want to