CHAPTER 1 — BELLE
Why am I here again? I glance around the coffee shop nervously, looking for his dark hair and icy blue eyes, but he’s not here yet.
I look down, playing with the hem of my coral-colored silk dress.
I squirm, readjusting, when I feel the cool wood hit the back of my bare upper thighs.
The last thing Ajax said to me before he left my room was, “Don’t wear any panties. ”
I pretended I didn’t hear him, but obviously, I did.
I went back and forth about whether to follow his instructions, but at the last minute, I relented.
The memory of his last spanking is still seared in my mind.
I squirm, feeling heat rise from my chest, to my collarbone, to my cheeks, as I remember our last encounter.
I look around furtively as if everybody around me can read my mind.
My face flushes darker. Do other people feel like this?
Do they get embarrassed when they’re thinking dirty thoughts in public?
I don’t know if that’s a normal thing, or just my Christian upbringing, or maybe it’s just a woman thing.
If it’s the Christian upbringing, though, maybe it’s time to let that one go.
I’ve been drifting away from the church for a while, and with the way that things are going with Ajax, it seems like I’m ready to fully detach soon.
And that’s not just because it seems like we’re getting closer and closer to having sex.
After all, I’m not a virgin anyway. Ironically, the man who took my virginity was our young adult group leader.
Thankfully, he didn’t tell anyone, though.
So, everybody in the group still thinks I’m pure as snow.
But if they see me with Ajax, well, even if I don’t do anything with him, they’ll assume.
Because unlike me, he doesn’t have a clean-cut background.
If anything, it’s the opposite: rugged, hot, dangerous.
I’m pretty sure he deals drugs on campus, although I’m not totally sure.
I’m a bit afraid to ask him, to be honest.
So what am I doing here? Well, I don’t know exactly.
I guess the best answer is that I’m doing what I want.
Which is rare for me, but it was a bit of a wake-up call dating Anton.
I realized that the men in the church were also doing exactly what they wanted.
They were just lying about it. So why can’t I too?
I’m so lost in thought that I flinch when a firm hand clasps my shoulder. I turn around and instantly have butterflies. He stares me down in the way that only he can. My stomach somersaults.
“Hey there, angel,” he says in that seductive drawl of his. “I’m glad you made it.”