His Little Tart by Sindra van Yssel Read Free Book Online Page A

stop at an hour. It kinda flew, didn’t it?”
    That was an understatement. “I’d show you a good time,” she wheedled.
    Hopefully he understood that meant sex. Then she felt annoyed at herself for not being able to say it. She ought to be able to. “Meaning, we can fuck,” she said. There was something deliciously naughty about using the word. Not that she never swore when something went wrong in the kitchen, but she’d never said it to mean sex. She was more a “making love” kind of girl.
     
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    The room’s light came in through his fingers, and she blinked. He took his hand away and pulled her bra straps back into place on her shoulders. “I promised, Constance. That’s it. End of discussion.”
    She wanted to punch his big solid chest in frustration, but her hands were still bound behind the chair. He reached back to unfasten them, and the urge passed.
    Mostly.
    “You won’t? Really?”
    Aidan shook his head.
    She got up. She had some vague notion of running to the women’s room and relieving the frustration she felt in one of the stalls. She’d never been so horny in her life. Maybe he isn’t turned on by me. The thought cooled her ardor some. She’d been so aroused herself, the idea that he wasn’t hadn’t occurred to her. Men were always ready.
    She looked down, and it was clear that he was no exception; the zipper of his pants covered a hard ridge. He was turned on, and he was big.
    Then the world swam. She’d gotten up too fast. She sat back down and took a breath.
    He put his hand on her shoulder. “Easy, girl. Let me get you some water.” But instead of leaving her side, he turned and looked around. Alex Allison was not far off, watching. Aidan made a drinking motion, and Alex nodded and quickly walked to where a case of bottled water lay ripped open. Within a few moments, she had a bottle in her hands and was sipping from it.
    Even after that, she was still horny. But he was clear. They were done.
    “I need to get home,” she said.
    He nodded. “I’ll carry your fondue pot.”
     
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    Sindra van Yssel

Chapter Three
    He never should have promised he’d hold to the hour. He’d tried to read her, and he almost had it right. She wanted him. She wanted the pleasure that he could provide.
    But he couldn’t get her to admit it.
    And now she was about to climb into her car and drive out of his life forever. So used to understanding exactly what a sub wanted, he had no idea what was going through her mind. Was she angry at him? There might be some of that. Mostly she seemed lost in her own mind. She had to process what had happened, and he needed to give her space to do it. But not too much space.
    “I’ll be here tomorrow, if you’d like to come again.”
    “Coming once would have been nice,” she snapped.
    He chuckled. “Bad choice of words.”
    She laughed. “Horrible,” she agreed. But the tension had broken. Her laughter was one of the best sounds he’d ever heard, full throated and joyful. When he first met her, he would have expected her to have a tinny giggle. For all her inexperience, though, she wasn’t a mouse. “I’ll think about it,” she said. “Don’t hold your breath. Go ahead and, uh, get involved.”
    He nodded. Was it his imagination or his ego that made him think she’d been reluctant to add that last part? Her reluctance didn’t necessarily mean she was feeling jealous. She might want to keep her options open.
    “I’m very busy,” she said. He suspected she was trying to let him down easy. That was usually his job. “But thank you for the interesting experience. I have to admit, it was nothing like I was expecting.” She surprised him by hugging him. He held her close. She felt warm and soft, even in her stiffly starched uniform. Then she gave him a
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    slight smile, pulled away, and slipped into her car. He waited until her legs were inside and shut the door. He watched her