The Master
Page 26
Pip, the stray cat he and Nathaniel had rescued, was curled up on one end of the sofa. The kitten opened one eye, decided he wasn’t worth her time, and went back to sleep.
“Pip looks good,” he said. “I didn’t know she was white.”
“Hard to tell with all that dirt on her. I’d offer you some breakfast, but I don’t cook.” She waved toward the kitchen. “I do have some coffee if you’d like. It’s Kona, my favorite.”
“I’m good, thanks. Never developed a taste for coffee.” As he moved farther into her living room, he was able to look over her small kitchen area. Everything was tidy and neat, right down to the tea service displayed on the countertop. “I’ll take some tea if you have it.”
“Oh, no. I don’t. Sorry.”
He raised an eyebrow. “No tea with such an exquisite service? That’s a travesty.”
“It’s Abby’s. She brought it over so I could practice.”
Her admission made him smile. The tea protocol he’d taught her was so important to her that not only was she practicing, but she’d had a friend bring over the necessary items.
“Have you been practicing, little one?”
“Yes, Sir. Every day.”
“Would you like to serve me tea tomorrow?” He’d actually had something else planned, but if she’d been practicing, he felt he should reward her.
She dipped her head, but not before he saw her cheeks flush. “I’d like that, Sir.”
“Look at me, little one.” He smiled when she lifted her head, and the urge to touch her heated cheek was so strong, he balled his fist. “I’d like that, too.”
He let them both stand for a minute in the anticipation-charged air. Excitement lit her features at the thought of serving him. Likewise, he let her see his desire to see how well she’d learned and remembered what he taught her about tea service.
He finally checked his watch, breaking their trance. “We need to head out if we’re going to be on time.”
She nodded and grabbed her purse and journal. Once they made it outside, he opened the passenger door for her. If he’d been traveling alone he’d have taken his motorcycle, but picked the car since Sasha would be going.
The property was in Southern Pennsylvania, so it took over half an hour to get there. Sasha appeared calm and at ease while they drove. They chatted about nothing in particular.
“I kind of pictured you in a penthouse or something,” she said when they pulled onto a quiet road.
“I did think about it,” he said. “But I like having my privacy, and that’s not always possible in an apartment. I’ve grown fond of jogging around Daniel’s land, as well. A house just made sense.”
He turned onto a driveway. The house in the distance momentarily captured Sasha’s attention.
“I’m not sure house is the right word,” she whispered.
He laughed, but had to admit the home appeared larger than what he’d had in mind. The agent waited near the front entrance and greeted them both warmly.
“Mr. Johnson,” the petite woman said, holding out her hand. “Pleasure to meet you in person.”
Cole shook her hand, noting as he did the glimmer of surprise in her eyes when she saw Sasha.
“Sasha Blake,” she said. “I know you gave Mr. Johnson my name, but I didn’t know you’d be coming today.”
“Yes,” Sasha replied. “It’s a small world sometimes, isn’t it?”
He acted as if he was scratching his chin and instead hid his smile. Sasha was no shrinking violet. He truly admired her for that.
The agent unlocked the front door, but when she started to follow them inside, Cole stopped her.
“If you don’t mind, I’d like for Sasha and me to look around first. We’ll come find you if we need anything.”
Her lips pressed together as if she was keeping herself from saying something, but eventually she nodded. “I’ll be out back on the patio if you need me.”
When she left, he crooked his finger at Sasha. “Come here, little one. Help me check this place out.”
They started downstairs, and Cole was surprised to find he liked both the layout and the design. Looking at the house from outside, he’d feared the interior would be too traditional for his liking. Inside, everything looked modern and contemporary.
“Wow, this is a huge kitchen.” Sasha stood near a freestanding island and spun around slowly. “I wouldn’t know what to do with all this space. My entire kitchen would fit in one of these cabinets. Do you cook?”
He made his way to the island to stand at her side. “Yes, I taught myself. Comes in handy when I’m in a remote part of the world. Do you really not cook?”
“Never. If I can’t nuke it or order it from a take-out menu, it doesn’t make it to my kitchen.” She ran the fingers of one hand down the island’s countertop. He could almost feel the coolness of the stone beneath his fingertips.
“I think granite is my favorite type of countertop,” he said. “Do you know why?”
“No, Sir.”
He slowly walked around the island. “Let’s say you’re my slave and I told you to serve dinner at exactly six. Now normally, you’re a very obedient slave, but for whatever reason, this time you’re very late and I have to come looking for you.
“You’re here in the kitchen. You look up, glance at the clock, and groan. You know you are so very late. I slide the belt from my trousers and instruct you lean across the island. You follow my command and press your cheek against the granite. How does it feel?”
Her eyes were locked on the countertop as if picturing herself braced against it. “Cool, Sir.”
“Quite a contrast to the heating I’m about to give your backside, wouldn’t you say?”
She nodded.
“When I finish, you ask if you can suck my cock in gratitude. I would normally allow it, but instead I hoist you onto the counter so the cool stone presses against the flaming heat of your arse. But you still have to service my cock, so I hold your legs open and take you. Hard. Driving into you, your body awash in the different sensations: hot and cold, pleasure and pain.”
Sasha’s lips parted slightly and she was breathing a little heavier than before.
“Do you see now why it’s my favorite?” he asked, and she replied with a breathy, “Yes, Sir.”
“Pip looks good,” he said. “I didn’t know she was white.”
“Hard to tell with all that dirt on her. I’d offer you some breakfast, but I don’t cook.” She waved toward the kitchen. “I do have some coffee if you’d like. It’s Kona, my favorite.”
“I’m good, thanks. Never developed a taste for coffee.” As he moved farther into her living room, he was able to look over her small kitchen area. Everything was tidy and neat, right down to the tea service displayed on the countertop. “I’ll take some tea if you have it.”
“Oh, no. I don’t. Sorry.”
He raised an eyebrow. “No tea with such an exquisite service? That’s a travesty.”
“It’s Abby’s. She brought it over so I could practice.”
Her admission made him smile. The tea protocol he’d taught her was so important to her that not only was she practicing, but she’d had a friend bring over the necessary items.
“Have you been practicing, little one?”
“Yes, Sir. Every day.”
“Would you like to serve me tea tomorrow?” He’d actually had something else planned, but if she’d been practicing, he felt he should reward her.
She dipped her head, but not before he saw her cheeks flush. “I’d like that, Sir.”
“Look at me, little one.” He smiled when she lifted her head, and the urge to touch her heated cheek was so strong, he balled his fist. “I’d like that, too.”
He let them both stand for a minute in the anticipation-charged air. Excitement lit her features at the thought of serving him. Likewise, he let her see his desire to see how well she’d learned and remembered what he taught her about tea service.
He finally checked his watch, breaking their trance. “We need to head out if we’re going to be on time.”
She nodded and grabbed her purse and journal. Once they made it outside, he opened the passenger door for her. If he’d been traveling alone he’d have taken his motorcycle, but picked the car since Sasha would be going.
The property was in Southern Pennsylvania, so it took over half an hour to get there. Sasha appeared calm and at ease while they drove. They chatted about nothing in particular.
“I kind of pictured you in a penthouse or something,” she said when they pulled onto a quiet road.
“I did think about it,” he said. “But I like having my privacy, and that’s not always possible in an apartment. I’ve grown fond of jogging around Daniel’s land, as well. A house just made sense.”
He turned onto a driveway. The house in the distance momentarily captured Sasha’s attention.
“I’m not sure house is the right word,” she whispered.
He laughed, but had to admit the home appeared larger than what he’d had in mind. The agent waited near the front entrance and greeted them both warmly.
“Mr. Johnson,” the petite woman said, holding out her hand. “Pleasure to meet you in person.”
Cole shook her hand, noting as he did the glimmer of surprise in her eyes when she saw Sasha.
“Sasha Blake,” she said. “I know you gave Mr. Johnson my name, but I didn’t know you’d be coming today.”
“Yes,” Sasha replied. “It’s a small world sometimes, isn’t it?”
He acted as if he was scratching his chin and instead hid his smile. Sasha was no shrinking violet. He truly admired her for that.
The agent unlocked the front door, but when she started to follow them inside, Cole stopped her.
“If you don’t mind, I’d like for Sasha and me to look around first. We’ll come find you if we need anything.”
Her lips pressed together as if she was keeping herself from saying something, but eventually she nodded. “I’ll be out back on the patio if you need me.”
When she left, he crooked his finger at Sasha. “Come here, little one. Help me check this place out.”
They started downstairs, and Cole was surprised to find he liked both the layout and the design. Looking at the house from outside, he’d feared the interior would be too traditional for his liking. Inside, everything looked modern and contemporary.
“Wow, this is a huge kitchen.” Sasha stood near a freestanding island and spun around slowly. “I wouldn’t know what to do with all this space. My entire kitchen would fit in one of these cabinets. Do you cook?”
He made his way to the island to stand at her side. “Yes, I taught myself. Comes in handy when I’m in a remote part of the world. Do you really not cook?”
“Never. If I can’t nuke it or order it from a take-out menu, it doesn’t make it to my kitchen.” She ran the fingers of one hand down the island’s countertop. He could almost feel the coolness of the stone beneath his fingertips.
“I think granite is my favorite type of countertop,” he said. “Do you know why?”
“No, Sir.”
He slowly walked around the island. “Let’s say you’re my slave and I told you to serve dinner at exactly six. Now normally, you’re a very obedient slave, but for whatever reason, this time you’re very late and I have to come looking for you.
“You’re here in the kitchen. You look up, glance at the clock, and groan. You know you are so very late. I slide the belt from my trousers and instruct you lean across the island. You follow my command and press your cheek against the granite. How does it feel?”
Her eyes were locked on the countertop as if picturing herself braced against it. “Cool, Sir.”
“Quite a contrast to the heating I’m about to give your backside, wouldn’t you say?”
She nodded.
“When I finish, you ask if you can suck my cock in gratitude. I would normally allow it, but instead I hoist you onto the counter so the cool stone presses against the flaming heat of your arse. But you still have to service my cock, so I hold your legs open and take you. Hard. Driving into you, your body awash in the different sensations: hot and cold, pleasure and pain.”
Sasha’s lips parted slightly and she was breathing a little heavier than before.
“Do you see now why it’s my favorite?” he asked, and she replied with a breathy, “Yes, Sir.”
