I was never bored with Will.

Even after we’d been together for years and had fallen into comfortable patterns and relationship routines, he had a way of keeping me guessing. Every once and a while, out of nowhere, he would do something unpredictable, reminding me that I might never completely know this amazing man, but making me grateful that I would have a lifetime to try.

Sometimes it would be something silly like starting a water balloon fight on our balcony at the end of a sweltering summer day. Other times it would be heartbreakingly sweet, like bringing home bulbs to plant in my mother’s garden to help my family celebrate seven cancer-free years.

He would show up at the gym after practice in full fishing gear and declare that he was teaching me how to fly fish—after never having mentioned going fishing a single day in his life—or recite a Shakespearean sonnet from memory while we were on our way to see theater in the park. He made my jaw drop and my eyebrows shoot up on a regular basis, but back when we were a couple I thought I had a pretty good handle on who Will was beneath the surprises.

Now, as I pace back and forth in front of my building, wondering if I’m overdressed in a pair of boot-cut jeans, a pink button-up peasant shirt, and a brown crocheted vest with fringe trim that my sister assured me was fashionable and not “too hippy cowgirl,” I have no idea what to expect.

What kind of surprise has Dominant Will cooked up in that creative brain of his?

Where is he taking me? What are we going to do? And how is he going to pull off a submissive lesson while we’re out in public?

A part of me—the part that likes rules, schedules, and routines—is anxious.

But the rest of me…

I bounce lightly on my toes, willing the minute hand to move faster.

The rest of me is giddy, flushed, fizzing, and alive in a way I haven’t felt in a long time. I can’t wait to find out what Will has in store for us tonight. But even more than that, I can’t wait to kiss him again, touch him again.

I can’t wait to feel his body hot against mine and his arms holding me close, and to finally stop pretending that I’m fine with being “just friends.”

Just friends is never going to work for Will and me. I can’t be around him for more than a minute without thinking about how incredible he looks, how nice he smells, or all the ways I would touch him if that wasn’t currently off-limits.

For nearly a year, it has been. For nearly a year, his body has been like a piece of art in a museum—look, don’t touch.

But not tonight. Tonight I will be able to touch him, taste him, get lost in the giddy nirvana of being close to the man I love.

All I have to do is wait for permission like a good submissive.

I shiver at the thought, liking it more than I ever imagined I would. A second later, Will’s truck pulls into the roundabout in front of my building, and the passenger’s side window rolls down. Inside, Will is smiling down at me in the fading light. “Hey, beautiful? You looking for a ride?”

“Yes, sir, I am,” I say, shivering again as hunger flashes in Will’s eyes. I don’t know if I’ll love playing the submissive as much as he enjoys playing Master, but I have to admit that I love what that word does to him.

I climb into the truck, losing my battle against a grin when Will says, “Now you’re armed and dangerous, aren’t you? Now that you know three little letters are all it takes to drive me out of my damned mind?”

I shake my head, smiling so wide my jaw aches a little. “No, of course not. I’m not dangerous. I’m as harmless as they come.”

Will grunts. “And I’m a ballerina in my spare time.”

The mental image makes me laugh as he pulls out of the drive onto Salmon Street. “I would pay good money to see that. How’s yoga going, by the way? Have you touched your toes yet?”

“Not even close,” he says with a chuckle. “But I enjoy trying. I am excelling at tree pose, though. Got my branches up over my head and balanced for the entire minute earlier today.”

“I’m not surprised.” I shift in my seat to watch him drive, loving the way his forearm muscles flex beneath the cuffed sleeves of his white button-down. “You’re actually very graceful for a guy.”

He snorts.

“You are,” I insist. “You’re poetry on the ice and when you spar with the kids at the gym. You even drive gracefully.”

Will cuts a glance my way as he pulls onto the highway. “Thanks.” Our eyes connect and heat flashes through me, making my cheeks feel too warm. I want to lunge across the cab and press a kiss to his cheek, the way I would have this time last year, before I learned the truth about Will. Instead, I clear my throat and force out a soft, “You’re welcome,” before settling into my seat to enjoy the drive as we cross the river and Will takes an exit leading out into the country.

Will is steering the ship tonight. Will decides when, where, what, and how far things go. Will is in control. My job is to wait for his signal and follow his lead.

As a person who was branded Type A in kindergarten and a Natural Leader by second grade, this should be driving me crazy. Instead, the knowledge that I don’t have to call any of the shots makes me feel lighter than I have in weeks. I feel free, unencumbered, liberated by all the choices I won’t have the option to make.

Maybe you’ll be a good submissive after all.

The thought makes my cheeks burn hotter and I let out a giddy laugh-sigh.

“What’s funny?” Will asks.

I shake my head as I turn to him, heart skipping a beat at the tenderness in his gaze as he divides his attention between the road and me. “Nothing’s funny. I’m just excited. About tonight.”

“Me, too,” he says, eyes sparkling. “But you’re about to be even more excited. Take a look over there.”

“A corn maze?” I ask, reading the small, hand-painted billboard on the side of the road as Will slows down to make the next turn. “Is that where we’re going?”

He grins. “What better place to teach you how to follow directions?”

I furrow my brow, briefly wondering how that’s going to play out, but after only a moment I sink back into follower mode. Whatever Will has planned, my job is to go with the flow. Besides, it’s a beautiful fall evening and there’s nothing I love more than a corn maze, preferably followed by a hayride.

And I trust Will. No matter what happens, I’ll be safe. There’s no doubt in my mind.

So I smile and say, “sounds good,” as I lean forward, admiring the scarecrows lining the edge of the field. Each one is styled like a different vintage horror movie monster. There’s a vampire scarecrow, a mummy, a werewolf, a swamp creature, Frankenstein’s monster, and a gigantic salmon with razor-sharp teeth.

“A fish,” Will says, arching a brow at the salmon.

“Not just any fish. That’s Gary, the killer King Salmon. He lives in the Willamette and crawls up onto the beach to feed on people foolish enough to fall asleep in the shade too close to the river.”

“This is a real thing? Or something you made up?” Will pulls into a parking spot in the mostly-open field. There are only a few other trucks scattered about, making it clear most people don’t consider the end of September corn maze season just yet.

“Totally real,” I say. “The girls in my intermediate class were telling me about him last year at the gym Halloween party. Some people say Gary used to be a Native American warrior who, after his tribe was wiped out by smallpox, asked to be reincarnated as a giant, razor-toothed salmon so he could wreak his vengeance upon the white man who killed his family and stole his land. Others say Gary is descended from a logger from the early days of Rose City, who was so desperate for a wife that he fell in love with a fish that lived near his houseboat, married her, and made a bunch of murderous half human-half fish babies that later went crazy after exposure to toxic chemicals dumped in the water. And Tina said that Gary was a drummer from a punk band in the 70s who took some bad heroin that turned him into a salmon and that’s why you should never do drugs.”

“Which story do you subscribe to?” Will asks as he shuts off the truck.

“The love story, of course,” I murmur, unable to keep from flirting, just a little bit. “You know I’m a sucker for a love story.”

“Even if the love story ends with the creation of a giant killer fish?”

I shrug. “No love story is perfect.”

“No, they aren’t.” Will’s lips curve in a smile so sexy it makes me shiver. “Cold?”

I shake my head. “Nope.”

“If you are, you can have my jacket. But first, let me help you with this.” He pulls a rolled length of fabric from his pocket and takes it by one end, holding it up as it unfurls to reveal what is unmistakably a blindfold.

A thick, sturdy one that will ensure I can’t see a damned thing.

Anxiety spikes in my bloodstream—I’m not a fan of not being able to see where I’m going—but I nod. “All right. I’m game.”

“You’re sure? You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do tonight, Hailey. You know that right?”

“I know, but I was just thinking how much I trust you, so…” I tuck my hair behind my ears and shift closer to him as he lifts the blindfold. I close my eyes, heart beating faster as he guides the fabric into place and knots it firmly. “But we’re keeping this G-rated for now, right?” I ask as darkness falls. “Just in case there are any kids loose in this maze?”

“Completely G-rated,” Will assures me, his hand covering mine. “This is about building trust. I want you to know that when we’re in a scene, you can count on me to be there for you, to take care of you, no matter what.”

My tongue slips out to dampen my lips. “I already know that. I trust you, Will. I promise I do.”

“Good,” he says softly. “But this is also about learning to follow orders without second-guessing me or yourself. Are you ready to follow orders, Curious Cat?”

I swallow. “I think so?”

Will clucks his tongue disapprovingly. “That’s not the answer I want, Kitten. The game starts now, so what do you say when I ask if you’re ready to follow orders?”

“Yes, sir,” I say, electricity zipping across my skin as Will makes a husky sound of approval low in his throat.

“Good, then get out of the truck, shut the door behind you, and await your next order, sweetheart. We’re going to see how good you are at playing follow the leader.”

“I’m going to be so good at it, sir,” I say, the playful note in my voice surprising me.

But then, Will is the one who keeps calling it all a ‘game’ and games are meant to be fun, aren’t they? So as I reach for the door, I don’t fight the smile on my face or the giggle that escapes from my lips as I step out of the truck only to realize the ground is a good six-inches lower than I assumed.

And when Will joins me after locking up the truck and says, “Good work, Curious. Now I want you to take ten big steps forward.” I offer a sassy salute in response. And yes, my heart is pounding as I stride across unseen ground into unexplored territory, with nothing but Will’s voice to guide me. But it isn’t fear making my pulse pound.

Or at least, not only fear…

As we move into the maze, Will’s commands grow more demanding—“Three big steps, then turn left for four and right for two.” “Jog forward until I tell you to stop.” “Run toward the sound of my voice as fast as you can.”— and I realize that the fear isn’t an unwanted side effect or something to be shoved aside and ignored as I soldier through to the next challenge.

The fear is…part of the fun.

Placing my safety in Will’s hands sharpens my awareness, my anticipation, my elation as I sprint toward the sound of his voice only for him to sweep me off my feet and into his arms, spinning us both in a circle as we laugh like fools.

“I get it,” I say, heart pounding as I wrap my arms around his neck.

“What do you get, beautiful?”

“Not knowing what comes next is part of the fun,” I say as he sets me on my feet. “The uncertainty and being just a little bit scared—it makes everything so much more intense.”

“And this was just a corn maze.” He unties my blindfold, easing it away from my eyes as he adds in a softer voice, “Imagine how much fun other things could be with this kind of trust.”

I blink, eyes prickling as they adjust to the dim light of dusk, and Will’s face slowly comes into focus. He’s so close and he smells so good—clean and Will-ish and beautifully familiar—that I suddenly can’t help myself. I press up on tiptoe, bringing my mouth to his for our first kiss in way too long.

And just like the first time I kissed Will, back when I was eighteen years old and had no idea what it was like to kiss a grown man who knew what he wanted and wasn’t afraid to show how much he wanted it, sparks fly, the earth spins faster, and my universe is rearranged.

Back then, it was love at first sight. Now, it’s confirmation that the chemistry between us is every bit as combustible as it was before, that it might even be a little bit wilder, and a little bit sweeter, after our experiment here tonight.

“Sorry,” I whisper when we finally pull apart. “I couldn’t help myself.”

“Why are you apologizing?” he asks, his hands gliding down to squeeze my ass through my jeans.

“You’re supposed to be in charge.”

“That doesn’t mean you can’t kiss me whenever you want,” he says with a wink. “Assuming I don’t have you tied up in a position that makes kissing difficult.”

I grin, the thought not nearly as intimidating as it used to be. “Oh. Okay. That’s good to know, sir.”

“All done with sir. For now.” He smoothes my hair away from my face, holding it in place as the breeze does its best to undo his tidying work. “You did a good job. A great job.”

“Thanks.” I wrap my arms around his waist, feeling closer to him than I have in a long time. And feeling hopeful, too. So hopeful I can’t help asking, “Does this mean I’m ready to graduate to Lesson Two?”

He shakes his head in mock disapproval. “Always in such a rush.”

“Can’t blame me for being an eager pupil when I have such a good teacher.” I press closer to him, biting my bottom lip as my belly brushes against clear evidence that I’m not the only one affected by that kiss.

His eyes darken in response, and when he speaks, there isn’t a hint of humor in his words. “I brought you here for a reason, Hailey. Because I’m not sure I can be trusted in a room alone with you.”

“You can always be trusted,” I whisper, tipping my head back, bringing my mouth closer to his. “And we agreed that these lessons were going to be hands on…” I brush my hot lips against his hotter ones as I add in a temptress voice I barely recognize, “So why shouldn’t you get your hands on me, sir? Preferably all over me. Everywhere.”

My next breath ends in a groan as his mouth covers mine in a kiss that isn’t the slightest bit sweet. This kiss stakes a claim, makes demands, and issues a warning—back away now or prepare to be taken in ways I may never have been taken before. But I’m not scared or even intimidated. I’m turned on, fired up, and ready for everything this no-holds-barred version of Will wants to share with me.

“My place,” I pant against his lips when we finally come up for air. “It’s closer. And we can get our clothes off faster.”

“Race you to the truck,” he says, and then we’re both off, dashing back through the maze as the first stars begin to wink on in the clear blue sky.