I mime zipping my lips. "That's Coop's story. Join us for lunch soon and he can tell you."

"Ben—" she sighs heavily and leans back, pushing the food on her plate around. My heart drops. Did I go too far?

"It would be nice to see Coop though," she finally says and gives me a small smile that doesn't quite reach her eyes. I feel a little relief but I’m still on edge.

"So how about you?"

"Hm?" Her eyes look sad when she turns them to me.

"What have you been up to?"

"Nothing half as exciting as you. I worked as administrator for many years. Eventually I moved into the charity sector and did some courses on security and risk. I'm now the Head of Security Risk Management for a tech company providing communication tools to aid agencies in the field."

"That doesn't sound like nothing." I smile, but she gives me an embarrassed look. She was never good with compliments. "Ever been married?" I ask casually but the minute the words leave my lips, I wish I could take them back. Somehow it feels like I'm bringing us back to dangerous territory.

"Not even close," she replies with a blank expression. "I was in a couple of relationships but they were guys I wasn't really in love with. The guys I'm interested in aren't usually interested in me and—” She bites her lip as if she’s said too much.

"I'm sorry." What am I sorry for? For asking the question? For bringing up memories? Or is it just another sorry for hurting her so badly? Regardless, she lets it go this time.

"When did you become a pleasure dom?" she suddenly whispers. Her cheeks turn crimson again despite the interest in her eyes.

"When I moved to the US I started dating a woman who was in the BDSM scene. She introduced me, and I guess you could say instructed me. I tested the waters for a few years and tried out different things until I discovered what it means to be a pleasure dom. It all made a lot more sense to me and I felt I’d found myself."

"And I guess a pleasure dom doesn't get married?" she giggles.

"Why not?"

"Oh, you are married?"

"No," I chuckle as I see something in her eyes that looks an awful lot like jealousy, "but it doesn't mean I can't get married. Being a pleasure dom isn't my life, it’s part of my life. It’s how I like to have sex, nothing else."

"Oh, okay." She doesn't look convinced.

"Amelia, forget what you may have seen in movies." I reach out and place my hand on top of hers. She freezes for a moment and then slowly pulls her hand from mine.

"So, you have to be in love with someone to be a PD?"

"Police Detective?" I laugh.

"Ben." She playfully slaps my arm.

"No, I don't have to be in love. You can have sex without being in love or it can be part of a loving relationship. That's the same with being a pleasure dom." I pronounce the last two words loudly, and Amelia shyly looks around to see if anyone else heard. Fuck, she’s adorable.

9

Hungry Eyes

Amelia

Okay, that escalated quickly.

"Let's talk about something else." I take another sip of my water. I would love to press the cool glass against my cheeks because I can feel them burning but we’re in a posh place, and I don't even want to know what the waiter already thinks of us.

"You did come here for that." He gives me a cheeky smile.

"Yes, when I thought you were someone completely different." My words wipe the smirk off his face.

"Amelia, I—"

"It's fine. Well, fine might be strong, but I get it. You’re right, I wouldn't have come if I’d known it was you. And I'm kind of glad I did." I genuinely am. It’s definitely better than if I’d run into him for the first time at Miranda’s wedding. At least we’ve had a chance to clear the air, and I wasn't lying earlier when I said that I didn’t really feel any anger for what happened so long ago. I’m surprised about that myself. I guess time does heal all.

"I'm glad too." He wipes his mouth with his napkin before placing it on top of his empty plate. "And my offer stands, if you have any questions about PD I'm happy to answer them."

Heat shoots through me again. For heaven's sake. How can I ever hope to go ahead with trying out a submissive role if the simple mention of it makes me go red like a tomato?

"I don't think that’s a good idea," I mumble and reach for my glass only to find it empty.

"Why not? I mean, maybe I shouldn't point this out, but we’ve seen each other naked before." He fills my glass from the water jug before topping up his own.

"So?" I take a big gulp of water. This conversation is making me feel nervous.

"So, surely that should take some embarrassment out of the situation compared to asking a stranger." There is some logic in that I'm sure, but in this moment it sounds utterly ridiculous.

"I can't sleep with you!" I hiss. For a brief second he looks alarmed but then has his expression under control again.

"Darling… Amelia, that's not what I'm suggesting." Darling? He has never called me “darling” before.

"I'm just saying that if you have questions I'm here to answer them."

I study his face. His expression is neutral but there is something in his eyes. Something I can't read, but that intrigues me nevertheless.

"And if I want more?" The devil knows what has come over me. I'm not really contemplating sleeping with him but I want to see that panic again. My words hit the bullseye, and he gives me the same look as a few minutes ago.

"Then I would agree, as long as we set some rules."

"Bullshit," I exclaim which earns me some curious looks from another table close by. "Bullshit,” I repeat in a muted tone, “I saw the panic in your eyes. You’re lying again."

"No, I'm not. But you’re right. The thought does scare me." His voice is soft. He no longer has the puppy dog enthusiasm he had when we were younger. Back then, he would go after every idea he had with passion. Now he seems to be more grounded, weighing up both sides of a coin.

"What scares you about it?"

"I’m not sure we could leave the emotional baggage behind us. Even if we’re not in love I would need you to trust me, and the question is if you could do that given how much I hurt you ." Oh wow. He’s showing more vulnerability and honesty than I expected.

"Maybe you’re right. But then, this experiment was never about emotions and I do trust that you would never hurt me …physically. That much I know." My fingers keep stroking over the napkin as if they want to flatten out all creases. "But, let's not talk about it. It's irrelevant because we're not doing that ."

Ben is silent for a second before agreeing, "No, of course not."

"No." Our eyes meet and my heart is beating a little faster.