By the time Mason got over his shock, Becky was bent over the dishwasher putting away her plate. He took her arm and whirled her around. “You are not going to be my submissive.”

Her eyes twinkled with mischief before she quickly lowered them. “Yes, sir.”

“Stop that!”

She kept her head bowed. “Stop what, sir?”

He gave her a little shake. “I mean it, Rebecca. This isn’t funny anymore. You can’t just decide to be a submissive. That’s not how it works.”

She lifted her head and looked thoroughly confused. “Why not? Don’t tell me there are submissive classes? I mean how hard can it be? You tell me what to do and I listen.”

“Wrong. It’s not just about bossing someone around in the bedroom. A submissive has just as much control as the dominant—more so. They are the ones who set the limitations. The ones who stop play when those limitations are in danger of being broken.”

She waved a hand as if to dismiss what he’d just said. “I already know all about limits and safe words. I think we should use colors because they’re self-explanatory. Green means go. Yellow means ‘Slow down, I’m not too sure I like this.’ And red means ‘Stop! That hurts!’” She sent him a satisfied smile like a student who’d gotten the answer right. And the fact that she’d put so much time and thought into being his submissive made Mason a little speechless . . . and a lot horny.

“See,” she continued, “I’ve got this.”

He shook his head. Not only to get it across that she didn’t have it, but also to clear any crazy thoughts—like making Becky his submissive. “No. You don’t have it. I’m not making you my submissive.”

“Why not? Is this about Zane? I promise you don’t have to worry about me running to my big brother and tattling. That’s not my style.” Her gaze lowered to the open neck of his snap-down western shirt. “Besides, who I take as a lover is nobody’s business.” She reached out and pressed her finger to the indentation at the base of his throat. Just one little finger, and his cock turned as hard as the granite counter top behind her. “I desire you,” she whispered as she slid that hot digit down to the first closed snap and back up again. “And you said you desired me.” Her gaze lifted to reveal the hot simmering blue of her eyes. “So why shouldn’t we have a little fun?”

A little fun? Obviously, she didn’t have a clue what she was asking for. She didn’t understand that being a submissive could involve a darker pleasure that included more pain than just a playful smack on the bottom. And maybe the only way to make her understand was to give her a taste of how rough things could get.

He fisted his hand in her hair and tugged her head back. Her blue eyes flashed with surprise, which only confirmed that she didn’t know what she was asking for.

“Fine,” he growled. “You want a little fun? I’ll give you a little fun.” He scooped her up in his arms and carried her to her bedroom. He tossed her unceremoniously onto the mattress and jerked open the snaps of his shirt. “Get naked.”

She scooted back against the headboard. “Umm . . . shouldn’t we talk a little first. Maybe get the limitations ironed out.”

“Why would we mess with that when you know your safe words?” He unhooked his belt and jerked it from the loops with a snap of leather against denim.

She jumped. “Okay, but if I don’t like it, I can stop it whenever I want. The submissive really has all the control. Right?”

He moved toward the bed. “That’s true, but I have a little problem with self-control. Once I get into it, I have trouble stopping.”

She visibly swallowed. “Oh.”

He doubled the belt and snapped it with a loud cracking sound that made her jump again. “So what’s it going to be, Rebecca? You want me as your lover?”

Time ticked by as he waited for her to make her decision. From the look of her wide blue eyes, he thought he knew what it was going to be. Which was why his jaw dropped when she stripped off her shirt. Obviously, Becky wasn’t one who backed down after she made up her mind. He barely got over the view of her sweet rosy-tipped breasts when she pushed down her shorts. He’d gotten a glimpse of her body when she stepped from the shower, but now he got to look his fill as she climbed off the high mattress and stood before him in all her naked glory.

“Just remember I bruise easily.” She turned and bent over the bed.

Mason’s knees went weak at the sight of those full, pale cheeks and long, toned legs. He swallowed hard and tried to get a grip on the desire that pooled hot and heavy in his loins. But when he lifted the belt, his hand shook so badly he had to lower it and take a deep breath.

All he needed to do was give her one good swat. Just enough to show her that this wasn’t a game she wanted to play. Just one good swat, and she’d be begging for him to stop. He gritted his teeth and lifted the belt, bringing it down with just enough force to make a smacking sound against the fullest part of her ass. She flinched, and he waited for her to scream stop. Instead, there was a long silence.

A red mark sprung up on her perfect cheeks, and damned if Mason wasn’t the one who wanted to yell stop. He was about to when Becky finally spoke.

“Is that it?”

Mason blinked. “Excuse me?”

Becky glanced over her shoulder. Her hair curved over one eye and down her back in waves of golden brown. “I just thought that sex with you would be a little rougher.”

“Rougher?” He dropped the belt. “You want rougher?” He smacked her ass with his open hand. “Is that what you had in mind, Rebecca?” When she didn’t reply, he smacked her again and again until her butt was bright red.

He rolled her onto her back, expecting to see tears or anger. Instead, he saw desire. Hot, unmistakable desire that shimmered in her blue eyes and melted any logical thinking he was still trying to hold onto. When she ran her fingers through his hair and pulled him down to her waiting lips, he was the one to submit.

He submitted to the heat of her mouth and the sweetness of her tongue. To the gentleness of her fingers and softness of her body. He submitted to the light that was Becky. A light that seemed to search out and penetrate the darkness inside of him, flooding it and consuming it until it no longer existed. For once, he didn’t feel lost. He felt found. And he didn’t want the feeling to end. He never wanted it to end. In fact, he wanted to go deeper into the light.

Without breaking the kiss, he rolled to the side and undid the button and zipper of his jeans. He had his boots on, but he didn’t want to leave her long enough to pull them off. So he merely shoved down his jeans before reaching for his wallet where he kept a condom. Once it was on, he adjusted her leg over his hips and thrust deep.

She broke the kiss and yelled. “Red!”

He froze. Not only at the word, but also the tight barrier he broke through to heavenly heat. Becky might’ve dated a lot of guys, but she hadn’t had sex with them. Not even Honey Bee.

“You’re a virgin?” His voice was hoarse and strained from trying not to move.

“Not anymore.” At the smartass remark, he started to pull out, but she tightened her leg around him. And she had strong legs. “Oh no, you don’t. Now that the worst part is over, I’m ready for the good stuff.” She thrust her hips and took him deeper. For a second, he thought he was going to come right then and there.

He spoke through his teeth. “Don’t move.”

“Sorry, but you had your chance to be dominant. Now it’s my turn.” She pushed him onto his back and followed, straddling him and sheathing him in her tight heat. His body begged him to thrust. Instead, he remained perfectly still. Unfortunately, Becky didn’t. Her hips started moving and any gentlemanly thought of stopping completely disappeared.

She wasn’t experienced at sex, but she figured it out quickly enough. After a few awkward bounces, she found a smooth rocking motion that made him grind his head back into the mattress. She must’ve liked it too because she moaned. And the more she rocked and moaned, the more Mason struggled to hold on. When she finally tipped back her head and released a throaty groan as she reached orgasm, he lost it.

He grabbed her hips and thrust until he was spent. Then he flopped back on the bed and flung an arm over his eyes. “Shit.”

Becky melted against his chest. “I’d like to second that. Holy shit.”

He opened his eyes and stared up at the ceiling. “I didn’t mean it in a good way.”

She lifted her head. “You didn’t like it?”

He had liked it. He’d liked it too damned much. But that wasn’t the problem. “Why didn’t you tell me you were a virgin?”

The hurt in her eyes cleared, and she moved off of him. Although she didn’t go far. She cuddled up to his side like she belonged there. “Oh, that’s what has you so grumpy.”

“I’m not grumpy.” He placed his hands behind his head so he wouldn’t be tempted to pull her closer. “I’m pissed that you didn’t tell me you were a virgin.”

“You didn’t ask.”

It ticked him off that she would try to put the blame on him. “Why would I ask? You’re almost twenty-five, for God sake, and wrote about screwing Honey Bee in your diary!”

She lifted her head, her eyes wide. “You found Lucy’s diary and thought it was mine?” When all he could do was stare at her in confusion, she rolled onto her back and starting laughing.

He sat up, now more annoyed than ever. “And just who is Lucy—” He stopped. “Lucy Arrington?”

She grinned. “That would be the one. Didn’t you see her name on the inside cover?”

“I saw Rebecca Lucille Arrington on the inside cover. I assumed that was you.”

Her eyes twinkled with humor. “Nope. That was my aunt’s full name. My full name is Rebecca Elizabeth Arrington. And I don’t have a Honey Bee.” A smile spread across her face. “At least, I didn’t until now.”

“No.” He held up a hand. “Get that thought out of your head immediately, Rebecca. I am not your Honey Bee. What happened just now was a mistake. A mistake that won’t happen again.”

He got off the bed and walked into the bathroom, slamming the door behind him. Once he disposed of the condom, he stood at the sink and tried to get a grip on his careening emotions. He felt guilty as hell for taking her virginity and pissed that she’d used him to get rid of it. Not only had she gotten a fantasy into her head about being a submissive, she’d also gotten a fantasy in her head about Mason being her Honey Bee. But Honey Bee and Lucy had had a love affair. And Mason didn’t believe in love.

He needed to make that perfectly clear.

But when he stepped out of the bathroom, he found Becky fast asleep. She slept on her stomach with her face pressed into a pillow and one foot dangling off the bed. It was hard to look away from the perfection of her body, the long toned legs and curvy butt that still carried the prints of his hand. The sight made him feel even guiltier, and he lifted the quilt she’d taken from his house and pulled it over her.

He was tucking it under her shoulder when her eyes fluttered open. They widened before recognition settled in the deep sky-blue depths. Before he could straighten, she grabbed his hand and pressed his knuckles to her lips.

“Stay with me, Honey Bee . . . please.”

Mason stayed.