Fling: A BDSM Erotica Anthology

Luca continued to watch her, his expression dark, unreadable, and she forced her mind back on the task at hand. She turned her attention to the lingerie and started rambling on about the pieces, sure she was ruining any chance of him carrying the line.

After a long-winded spiel, the boat swayed slightly, sliding her book across the table. She reached for it. "Wait. Why are we moving?"

"Because we're setting sail. We'll be travelling overnight."

Josie jumped to her feet. "Setting sail? Why? Where are we going?"

"You'll see soon enough."

She glanced around, then another thought hit. "I don't even have my suitcase."

Just then the door opened, and a man she didn't recognize placed her suitcase on the small, pedestal side table bolted to the floor. After exchanging a nod with Luca, he quietly slipped out of the stateroom and closed the door behind him.

"You do now." Luca raised a brow and gave her a look that made her insides quiver before adding, "We're not finished, Josie. Not by a long shot."

"We're not?"

She swallowed uneasily, wondering if he was still talking about business or something else entirely. Luca moved across the room, and warmth settled deep between her legs as she considered the alternative, but then she gave herself a good hard mental shake to get her head back on straight. Of course he had to be talking about closing the deal they had on the table. The man had a bevy of models to choose from. With a curvy body and hair with a mind of its own in this humid weather, she was the antithesis of the women he gravitated toward. Even Genevieve seemed to know that. She must have mistaken the suggestive edge in his voice, had to have misinterpreted the looks he was aiming her way.

He stepped closer, his body crowding hers. "You see, Josie, before I can approve the line, I have to determine whether the clothes are appropriate for my store."

"Appropriate?"

He pitched his voice low and dipped his head. "I have a discerning clientele, and if I'm going to carry this line, we have to be sure it hits the right mark."

We?

She worked to put on her best air of professionalism, but with the way her body was quivering, the greedy little spot between her legs warming from his closeness, she knew she was failing spectacularly. "What mark is that?"

"It has to trigger the right reactions, from both a woman's and a man's perspective."

Ribbons of heat moved through her, and she wondered how he planned to determine such an intimate thing. "And how will we do that?"

A slow, lazy smile turned up the corners of his mouth. "Don't worry, Josie. You won't have to do anything you don't want to do," he answered. "But right now isn't about negotiations and closing deals." He waved his hand toward his door. "Right now is about relaxing and enjoying this night."

"But I—"

"We have a party to attend."

"A party?"

"Since you scared Genevieve off, you'll be my date tonight. Tomorrow, we'll get down to business."

His date?

With her mind spinning, Josie took a moment to consider this unexpected turn of events. She'd come there with one mission in mind—to get him to sign off on the deal. Partying with a man who intimidated the hell out of her, no matter how hot he made her feel or how many women would kill to be in her current predicament, wasn't part of her plan. Besides, she didn't want to risk saying or doing anything that could end up blowing this for Renee.

"I don't think—"

"You'll be my date," he said again, voice low, controlled, and this time she realized he wasn't asking.

She stood and smoothed her hands over her dress. "But I'm not …"

His gaze panned her contours, and when she caught what appeared to be a dark, predatory look in his eyes, her words died an abrupt death.

His brow furrowed, and his expression looked perplexed when he touched the short sleeve on her dress, his knuckles brushing her flesh and causing a riot inside her body as he ran the material between his fingers. "Who are you wearing?"

Josie felt her stomach drop. Her choice in dresses had been a mistake. At the last second, she'd changed her mind and instead of grabbing the Dior, Renfrew, or even the Versace that Renee had lent her—designs carried in Luca's upscale department stores—she chose to go with one of her own.

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

"I ... uh ... it's mine."

A long pause, then, "Are you telling me you designed this dress?"

"Yes."

He scrubbed his chin like he was considering that for a moment. "Interesting," was all he said. Then, like a man who was used to getting his way, he placed his large hand on the small of her back, splaying his fingers wide to set her in motion.

Understanding there was nothing she could do or say to deter him and that if she wanted to close the deal, she had to go along for the time being, she let him lead her out the door and down the long, narrow hallway.

He pressed a champagne flute into her hand when they reached the upper deck, and Josie knew better than to decline. She stole a sideways glance at him and realized that everything she'd ever heard about him was true. Not only was he forceful, controlled, and domineering, he was a man who took without asking, a man who'd go to great lengths to get what he wanted.

Which begged the question: how far would she go to get what she wanted?

Luca slipped his hand around the waist of the gorgeous woman at his side and guided her to the port side of the boat, where they could find a modicum of privacy. When she lifted her gaze to his, a nervous, hot pink flush staining her cheeks, the Dom in him bristled. The second he'd set eyes on her, he'd known she was out of her element, in more ways than one. And while he had no idea why Ms. Kenyon would send someone with little to no experience, he was only glad she had.

She smoothed her dress down, and the look on her face told him she wanted to talk business. "When we return tomorrow—"

"We won't be returning tomorrow."

Her eyes widened, and her head came back with a start. "What do you mean?"

He pointed a finger, and she followed his gaze. "We're heading to that small island over there, my private resort," he said, neglecting to tell her it was Fetish Week at said resort. Soon enough, she'd find herself surrounded by something that would undoubtedly shock and positively excite her.

"I have to get back."

"For what?"

"I have to work."

He angled his head. "Am I to believe that you only planned one night in Italy? That you came all this way and hadn't cleared your schedule to take in some of the sights after we concluded our business deal?"

She toyed with the top button on her black dress, one that hugged her curves to perfection. His glance raced over the fine detailing, and he knew it was that attention to the little things that would make her an apt pupil in the bedroom.

"Well ..." she began, her words falling off.

"Well?"

"Well, of course I did, but my plans didn't involve going to your private resort."

He took a step closer, crowding her, and didn't miss the shiver that moved through her body, a shiver that told him so much about her and about what she needed from him. There was no mistaking that sweet little Josie Pelletier was a submissive at heart, and while she might not know it yet, Luca knew how much she craved to hand her pleasures over to a man. Oddly enough, he felt a strange, possessive tug on his emotions because there was no denying that he wanted to be the Dom to guide her, the man to train her in the ways of pleasure and make sure she was properly introduced to the darker side of love and appropriately cared for in the process.

"But we have unfinished business, Josie."

"Then perhaps we should just finish it now," she said.

"It's not that simple." He filled his lungs with her scent, and continued, "Sometimes negotiations can go on for...days."

She drew her bottom lip between her teeth. "Days?"

"Yes, sometimes it can take many, many long hours before both sides are completely satisfied. But don't worry, after we finish hammering out a deal, you'll be free to enjoy the sights."

Luca thought more about their negotiations and wondered exactly how far she'd go, how far he could take her. She might be young and naive, but she was all woman. Sensual, curvy, with a body made for sin—a body he intended to train—in all the scintillating ways she needed him to train her.

Josie swallowed a huge gulp of her champagne, and he took the empty flute from her hand. "Would you like another?"

"No," she rushed out. "I think I've had enough." Her glance left his. "When will we be docking?"

"Not until tomorrow."

She looked around. "Where will I sleep tonight?" she asked, panic widening her big blue eyes.

While he'd like her to stay with him, he knew it was too soon to take her to his bed. Too soon indeed. Not that he was in a hurry; after all, anticipation was half the fun. No, sweet little Josie Pelletier was an innocent, one who needed to be trained in the ways of pleasure as much as business.

"I have a room prepared for you."

She faked a yawn, but he didn't call her on it. The first night he'd let her get to bed early because come the morrow, he'd want her wide-awake and ready to negotiate.

With a snap of his fingers, Charles was at his side. "Please escort Ms. Pelletier to her room."

She turned to go, but Luca put his hands on her shoulder to stop her. She spun to face him, and he purposely put his mouth close to her ear. "Just so you know, Josie, my approval doesn't come easy." Her face warmed, and when he felt a fine shiver move through her, he added, "Your designs will be tested."