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glance. “I can do you too.”
    “Dream on, hot pants.”
    “You know as well as I do that Elementals don’t dream. But I can rock your fantasies with a sonic cock boom you’ll never forget.” The corner of his mouth screwed up.
    “I’m not interested in cremation any time soon, thanks.” Though imagine the fun she could have in the few seconds before the burn kicked in. Might be worth it. She sighed loudly.
    “You don’t like me much.”
    No, she liked him too much. Where had her head been all day? She couldn’t stay focused. Her thoughts had wandered to him more times than she could count. And here they were again, dragging her into the messy, beautiful, thoroughly wrong-for-her mire of Byrn. She hoped to hell she could pull some Air off the other Doms in the club tonight, or she was toast. Literally.
    “ Nobody likes you much. It’s ’cause you’re an asshole. Mind on business.”
    She twisted her torso to face his profile and wished she hadn’t. The rugged cheeks, the single red streak cutting through the blond, the barely there smile—man, she loved his teeth. Often fantasized about those pearly whites dragging across her belly.
    “Business, huh?” The grin roared back to life with a vengeance.
    Teeth.
    Vexx startled when warmth seeped through the black latex glove on her hand. Just the wake-up call she needed. Heart suddenly racing and Air flowing freely, she snatched her arm away and cradled it with the other one.
    “Come on, that didn’t hurt.” Byrn play-punched her shoulder as he braked the car to a halt at a stoplight.
    A deep inhale exchanged the Fire searing her lungs for some fresh Air. Two could play at this game.
    She flipped her eyes yellow and narrowed them on him. Tapping into her Elemental reserves, she wafted minty pheromones across the Fire-Air divide and put some mental elbow grease into her commands to ensure they got through. “Here’s how it’s gonna roll. You’ll address me as ‘Mistress.’ You’ll speak only when spoken to. You will not touch me unless I ask you to. You will open your mind to me and give me whatever I demand from it. You’ll keep your Fire in your pants. And you will wear this”—she reached into her bag of toys and tossed a pink and black leather collar onto his lap—“until I tell you to take it off. Do you understand?”
    “Yes, Mistress.” He lowered his gaze like a good little slave.
    She smacked the back of his head. “Good. Now drive. The light’s green.”
    Byrn obeyed.
    Either her Air-fueled suggestions had worked, or Byrn was the practiced slave she’d feared he was. Whichever the case, he’d sunken into his role far too quickly for comfort.
    Oy vey.
    Switch , he said. Except it wasn’t his voice. Instead, his Air—what little there was—communicated with hers.
    Had she inadvertently opened her thoughts to him? Sure hadn’t meant to. At least, not yet. She cut her eyes his way, but he gave no indication he’d heard her.
    And the head games began.
----
    T he valet at Carnival took the keys, and Vexx’s newly collared, shirtless Byrn walked around to the passenger side. The sadistic irony of this whole gig was the kind of mindfuck only an experienced Aer could engineer. Or Jack, a Sentinel with a flair for masterminding impossible, Hannibal “The A Team” Smith-type plans.
    Byrn carried himself like a tiger. The tight black leather pants hugging his hips and ass grabbed her self-control by the throat, clamped down, and shook it to within an inch of its life. Everything she’d ever wanted was laid out before her like an all-you-can-eat buffet. And Vexx sat at Byrn’s proverbial table, knife and fork in hand, mouth watering, with her jaw wired shut, unable to sample a single bite.
    Byrn opened the car door, leaned in, and held out a hand to Vexx. She stared at it for a moment, and lightly rested her gloved fingers in his warm palm. The latex would protect her from the physical threat of his Fire, but she needed to fortify her