You.

Grace shook her head and looked at the black rubber mats down on the floor, anything to avoid looking in those probing blue eyes of his.

"May I touch you?" he asked, and as soon as she did she knew the reason, because she often had to do it herself as a nurse-get verbal consent before doing something the patient-or in this case, the woman-might object to. It was a practical way of avoiding an assault and battery charge. Had that happened to him before? He was getting her consent on camera, no less.

"Yes." Saying yes gave her a heady thrill that tamped down the bubble of anxiety. Where would he touch her? What had she just consented to?

Ian stroked the top of her hair, carefully pulling it together into a low ponytail in his hands, and pulled down. She had no choice now but to tilt her head up until she gazed into his eyes.

"Do you like that? When I pull your hair?"

Her mouth was dry and she licked her lips, unsure what to say. He tugged gently again and stood over her, his face mere inches from hers. This was unlike any interaction she'd ever had with him in the past.

This is the real Ian.

"Yes," she whispered. "I like it."

"And what if I ask you to turn around and bend over for me? Will you do it, or will you be naughty like before?"

The word naughty tickled something deep within her, and she grinned up at him as he let go of her hair.

"So glad I amuse you."

Grace stopped grinning, although she was pretty confident that Ian was teasing her. "Um, what will you do to me if I...bend over?" she asked, hesitant once more.

"I'm still not convinced you're even willing to pretend to be submissive for the cameras, much less willing to take direction from me," Ian said. "Right now, I'm asking you to bend over because you wouldn't before."

She turned around, the heat from the lights warming her skin. Ian stood behind her again, but this time all she felt was the moisture between her legs and the butterflies in her stomach as she slowly bent down and grabbed her ankles.

Her hamstrings were going to remember this tomorrow. She wasn't as flexible as she used to be since she gave up Pilates.

Grace closed her eyes in anticipation, but had to open them again to visually steady herself. Ian stood silently behind her, and she supposed he was watching even though he didn't touch her.

"Are you going to..." Spank me? But she couldn't say the forbidden words out loud.

"Am I going to what?" he asked, amusement creeping into his voice. Curiosity, perhaps.

"Nothing," she muttered.

"Am I going to what?" he repeated. It sounded like an order, even though he hadn't requested anything of her other than an answer.

"...spank me?" she whispered, grateful the hair tickling her burning cheeks obscured her face.

"Do you want me to spank you?"

Oh my God. I'm going to melt into the floor and die of embarrassment.

But Ian didn't seem to think there was anything to be embarrassed about. His matter-of-factness about it all served to remind her that on a BDSM porn studio set, a spanking was the least of her concerns.

"I'm just looking at you, Grace."

The way he said, the desire in his voice...she no longer felt embarrassed. Instead she felt sexy.

"Don't move." He walked around her in a slow circle until the blood began to rush to her head, making her dizzy.

She gasped as he reached out and touched her hip, a sizzle of heat from his fingertips on her cool skin. But that was it. Just one touch.

"Stand up slowly," he ordered, and she did, slowly enough that her head rush receded.

"Are you alright?" he asked, the concern in his voice made her smile, as if he had just wrapped her up in a protective blanket with his words.

"Yes, thank you, Ian."

Ian smiled back. "On camera-and in the bedroom-I prefer to be called Sir."

The bedroom? If only he'd told her that back when they were dating, maybe things wouldn't have ended so abruptly between them. But would the old Grace have even entertained the idea of playing kinky sex games? Probably not. It would have sent her running. But now...

"Yes, Sir." The words felt less foreign in her mouth than she expected them to. Perhaps because he'd made her call him Sir before, if only in her own twisted imaginings late last night, with her hand buried beneath her sheets.

Ian turned to Ricardo, who had been watching their exchange from behind the camera. "This one could be fun to train."

Ricardo's face lit up. "Yes! We could have a whole submissive training series, first-time virgin type shit. The subscribers will eat that up."

Grace picked up her purse. "So you want me?"

Ricardo nodded. "Yup. Pay is nine hundred bucks a shoot. You'll have to sign the proper contract, though, missy, no fucking around. You could start tomorrow."

"I have to work tomorrow." She'd make about two hundred at work. The idea of making nine hundred for just a few hours was staggering.

"Tomorrow night then. Ian? You up for an evening shoot?"

Ian nodded, the smile on his face seeming to hide some secret thought process that she desperately hoped was about her. Would he masturbate to the thought of her tonight?

Maybe he had a new girlfriend-it had been over three years, after all. He'd obviously moved on. Maybe Nikki was his girlfriend. The thought turned her stomach. She'd just barely reunited with the man, but she wanted him. And she wanted him to want her in return.

Grace turned to the boss-man. "If you're going to make a whole series around me and my lack of experience, I think I should be better compensated." She held her breath, wondering if he would call her bluff.

Ricardo laughed. "You sure you're not a lawyer like our Dom here?"

She glanced at the smirk on Ian's face and decided to pretend she had no idea what they were talking about. Everyone didn't need to know she was a part of Ian's past. "I want...twelve hundred a shoot."

"One grand and you don't dare tell the other girls."

Grace glanced over at Nikki, who was smoking a cigarette in the corner, reading a magazine.

"Why don't you just pay all the girls a thousand?" Grace asked, unwilling to let this man pit her against the others.

Ian laughed. "He already does, Grace. And now you're getting your fair share, everyone's happy, and Ricardo's an asshole."

Ricardo shrugged. "I'll see you tomorrow night. Don't wear too much makeup. How old are you?"

"Twenty-seven."

"No. You're nineteen, Grace, got that?"

Grace didn't try to hide a look of disgust and walked out the door. So now she was the barely-legal virgin? Ugh.

What had she been thinking? There was no way she should go back, despite the allure of making in a day what took her a week to make as a nurse. What if someone she knew recognized her on the website, or what if she actually got really injured?

No, no one would injure her at that studio. It all appeared to be as Ian had promised-safe, sane and consensual. Still, that wasn't Grace's world. Would never-could never-be.

But the whole "audition" had been such a turn-on to her. This might be the only way she got to see Ian again-for more than a quick "let's catch up sometime" coffee, anyway. And it would be exciting to play out some fantasies...fantasies she never even knew she had. Now she had Ian's voice in her head, calling her naughty, tugging on her hair, asking her if she wanted him to spank her...

This was how she could be with Ian again, one more time at least.

Tomorrow night.

Chapter Three.

Grace's workday at the office seemed to drag on interminably, but it was five o'clock before she knew it-as if time had sped up at the last moment, rushing her toward her evening's video shoot.

She couldn't do it. Once someone's on the internet, they're on it forever. What if her future husband wanted to run for President or something? He'd be horribly embarrassed when those pictures of her surfaced. And they would surface, even if her real name wasn't attached to them. All the dirty laundry aired during a Presidential election.

Yeah, keep focusing on your future husband, the President of the United States of America. Because that's what's important right now. She shook her head, trying to get out of her self-defeating sarcastic funk.

Did she really think she could lead a double life, where no one knew she secretly made kinky BDSM videos for an online porn site at night, and be a nurse during the day? What would happen when she finally found a boyfriend? He'd never approve.

Unless the boyfriend was someone like, say...Ian.

Just the thought of him sent an endorphin rush through her. What would he do to her tonight? What if she didn't like it?

More importantly, what if I do like it?

But she'd never done anything like this before. There was a very good chance she'd be completely turned off, hate it, and then what? Would she be forced to continue because of some stupid consent form?

No. It seemed like a legit place, as far as she could tell. She'd be okay. And if anything happened where she felt violated or God forbid, raped, anything at all, she'd get that place shut down so quickly it would make their heads spin. It's not like she was some drug-user coming in off the streets looking to make a quick grand or something. Grace knew how to take care of herself. So that settled it.

She'd be fine.

Grace set the office phones to the "night" setting, which forwarded them to the on-call emergency service that would page the doctor if one of his patients ended up in the hospital, and shut the lights.

Time to go get dominated by Ian. And who knows what else would happen.

Grace had changed out of her scrubs and into her street clothes before she left work, and now waited at the studio in front of a wall of...implements, contemplating what they were for. Ricardo had suggested she wear cute cotton panties and a matching bra instead of the sexy thongs Nikki preferred, since Grace was supposed to be the young virgin. It creeped her out, but nineteen was more than legal, and she clearly had a woman's body, so actual pedophiles shouldn't be too interested in her. Hopefully. The thought of turning on a pedophile made her want to vomit.

But Ricardo assured her that his subscribers and viewers were fetishists who liked bondage scenes and light sexual torture and BDSM. The whole "nineteen-year-old virgin" thing was just an added fun bonus for them (especially since she was, in reality, a twenty-seven year old who'd had either four or five lovers, depending on how one defined "lover"). Ricardo said they always made sure to show the girls having fun so there was no question as to whether or not it was consensual. And they always gave a safeword and honored it.

Safeword. So much to learn. And a hand signal if she was gagged, which was something Ian had said turned him on.

And the thought of turning Ian on...well, that got her hot. Very hot.

Ian came up behind her, startling her out of her reverie. "I didn't think you'd come back," he said.

"Me either," she admitted, turning to face him.

He smiled and leaned in close, so close she half-expected him to kiss her.

"You don't have to do this if you don't want to, you know," he said, his breath hot on her ear. "As much as I'd enjoy training you, and would hate to see you go."

"Then why are you trying to get me to leave?" she whispered back.

"Because you don't belong here. You've always been such a good girl-at least you were back when we were together. I don't think you belong on a website such as this one."

Her heart sank to the pit of her stomach. As much as she didn't want to agree, Ian's words rang true because he was right. She didn't belong here, but it wasn't because she was a "good girl." She never should have come here in the first place. It wasn't the website that excited her, or the money, or the idea of being on the internet for thousands of viewers to watch and fantasize over.

It was just Ian. This new version of Ian who held the whip excited her, nothing more. Well...maybe more. More of the things he'd done to her during her audition. More of the way he made her feel...sexy, desired, controlled. Cherished.

Grace looked up into Ian's blue eyes, remembering the feel of his hands on her hair, tugging her head back until she was forced to return his intense gaze. She wanted more of that. But how, if not like this?

"Ricardo's not here yet," Ian advised. "I could text him that you never showed. He's home having dinner with his family, he won't care. He'll tell me to lock up and leave."

Grace took an uncertain breath. She had one last chance to make her decision to do this. A lot had changed in three years, and Ian was a different man now. Even if she desired him, was she willing to be on camera to have one last sexual experience with him? She glanced at the door. Flee? Stay?

"He'll be here any minute," Ian said. "Decide now, before he gets here. Do you really want your image to be on the internet, naked, in bondage, forever? What will your children think if they run across it?"

"I hardly think my future children will be looking at old porn websites, if they're even still around in twenty years," she scoffed, but the vision haunted her just the same. And the idea of her on the internet, naked and in bondage, did little to excite her sexually.

Damn it.

"Okay," she said. "You're right. Text Ricardo and tell him I never showed."

"Good girl," he said, pulling out his phone. His long fingers flew across the screen quickly, and he laughed. "Ricardo replied 'Shocker. Lock up for me.' Just like I knew he would."

Grace laughed and then looked around. It was dark out now, even though it was only around seven p.m. Only a few sections of the studio were lit.

"Thank you for saving me from making a dumb mistake," she said, picking up her purse.