"You're very welcome. Why are you picking up your purse?"

"Um...because you have to lock up and I should go home?"

Ian took a step toward her, a slight smile on his face that did nothing to stop the rush of adrenaline spiking through her. She felt like prey but in a really good way, somehow. Like she wanted to just lie down and let him...eat her like the predator he was.

Yes, Ian, you can eat me any day. She giggled nervously at her own thought.

"You don't have to leave," he said. "We have a whole playroom at our disposal. If you'd like, I can give you a taste of what you're so intrigued by. A taste of what brought you back to me."

Yes! This was how she could have her cake and eat it too. Or rather, have some alone time with Ian without committing to an internet porn-site and a three page contract. "But, just for us, right? Not for the camera?"

Ian nodded. "No cameras. No internet. Just us."

Us. How she missed his voice saying that, joining them with a single word. Every atom of her being wanted to respond with a resounding yes! but fear held her back. "I don't know," she whispered. "I've never done anything like this before."

"I'm not going to pressure you into something you're not ready for. You've never shown interest in BDSM before-and it was too much for me to hope that would suddenly change."

But she didn't move, didn't head for the door. All this time thinking about Ian, only to discover that the Ian she missed had been replaced by a new man. A very sexy man. She'd never desired him this much in the past, not like she did now. That had to mean something.

"I'm scared," she admitted.

"I'll walk you to your car, then. We can catch up over coffee sometime. It was...really great seeing you again, Grace."

It couldn't end, not like this. She wanted this. Why fight it?

"Wait. I'll-I'll stay. Where do you want me? What do you want me to do?"

Ian smiled, a brief look of surprise passing over his face so quickly she wouldn't have noticed it if she hadn't known him so well.

"I like the sound of that," he said. "But first things first. We need a safeword."

"Okay. How about if I just say 'stop'? Or 'ow'?"

"That depends," Ian said. "Put your purse down."

She did, feeling shaky already, heady with excitement. Ian stepped in toward her, his physical strength and power so apparent as he stood millimeters away from her body, his body heat coming off of him in waves.

"It depends on your fantasy," he continued. "Do you have a fantasy of being hurt, of saying ow, of saying stop, and of having no control over what happens next? Do you want to be spanked until you cry, until you're beyond begging, and I decide you've had enough?"

She'd never thought that might be a fantasy before, but his words made her wet.

"Your hesitation indicates those might not be good safewords for you, then," he laughed. "Pick another."

"I don't know. I can't think straight. What's a good safeword? What do the other girls say?"

Ian took her hand in his, running his thumb over her pounding radial pulse in her wrist. "Let's get one thing straight. You are not those other girls. I'm not getting paid to be here with you. I'm here with you tonight for pleasure-for you, and for me."

"Okay." It gave her a little thrill to know he thought of her as separate, as special.

He pulled her against his body, and she could feel his erection through his jeans. Their conversation was turning him on as much as it turned her on.

Oh my God. Were they going to have sex? She hadn't planned on having sex. Not tonight. Not on their first date since they split up.

"Is this a date?" she asked, uncertainly.

"Do you want it to be?"

Grace laughed, uncertain, and not feeling up for inevitable rejection. "No."

"Good. I haven't been the dating type since we broke up anyway."

Oh. Of course. Disappointment crashed through her, but what did she expect? That the man who broke her heart so he could whip women on the internet for a living was going to take her out to dinner and a movie?

"Can I just say 'safeword', then?" she asked.

"Yes. Safeword is your safeword. Good idea." He grinned and stepped back, appraising her.

"Now what?" she asked.

"Now you learn patience, and you start addressing me as Sir."

She swallowed around the lump in her throat. "Yes, Sir."

Was this really happening?

"Take off your shirt, Grace."

She peeled it off, holding it tightly in her hands as if she could transfer some of her energy into it to calm herself down.

"Bra too."

The clasp in the back had never given her a problem before, but she fumbled with it until the cotton material slipped off her shoulders. Now she stood completely topless before him, wearing only her panties and denim cutoffs and flip-flops.

Grace heard a sharp intake of air. Ian was looking at her with an appreciative expression. "Grace, you are very beautiful. Very, very beautiful."

She dropped the clothes to the rubber mat below her and fought the urge to cover her breasts with her arms. Not that she was embarrassed of them-he'd certainly seen them before-but he was staring at her body with such...possessiveness and intensity she felt overwhelmed.

"I'm going to touch you, Grace," he murmured. "I'm going to play with your pretty little pink nipples."

Images of him putting clamps on that other actress's nipples flashed before her eyes, and she moaned with desire as he cupped her breast with one large hand.

Either his hand was very warm, or her skin was very cool, but it felt like a gentle heat surrounding her breasts as he took his time touching her, massaging her, running his hands along the curves of her cleavage and the fold under her breasts where they hung heavy on her chest.

"I like these nipples," he said, taking one in each hand. He pinched both gently at the same time, very lightly, and desire coursed through her body. It was as if there was a direct connection between her nipples and her clitoris, which swelled with arousal inside her panties.

She squirmed under his fingers, aware of the effect he was having on her...down there. Her pussy. Even thinking the word felt taboo and yet oh so right with Ian's fingers locked down on her tender nipples, now hardened little buds.

He pinched harder and she gasped in pain.

"Breathe," he commanded. "Breathe into the pain and let it turn into pleasure."

She hadn't realized she'd been holding her breath until she obeyed, filling her lungs with oxygen, and the pain centered in her nipples flowed through her body in a rush of sensation that left her feeling giddy and high.

"Keep breathing." He kept his grasp on her nipples tight, not letting up on the pressure for even a moment, although surely only a few moments had passed, even if it seemed like an eternity.

Ian pressed his body closer to hers, his denim-clad thigh between her spread legs. She ground her hips, rubbing her clit against his muscular thigh without shame as he continued to pleasantly torture her breasts with his long hard fingers.

"Like a bitch in heat," he whispered. "That turns me on. I want you to come, Grace. Rub your little clit on me till you come."

Her breath hitched and she moaned, the sensations building in her, and suddenly he let go of his hold on her breasts, flooding the nerve endings with a new level of erotic pain when the blood came rushing back into her nipples. She came hard, bucking her hips against him, gasping for air as her whole body convulsed with the strength of her orgasm.

Ian lifted her chin and kissed her, a deep, powerful kiss, thrusting his tongue inside her mouth. She would have fallen over if he hadn't been holding her so tightly.

"Do you usually kiss the girls?" she asked breathlessly.

"No, I don't. But I'm not working right now, am I?"

"No, Sir." She stood on her tip-toes and offered her lips to him again, but he just smiled down at her.

"You're going to be sore tomorrow," he said. "You might want to put some ice on those nips tonight before bed, maybe take some ibuprofen or something."

"Really?"

"Well, you're the nurse, so you can decide for yourself. That's just what Ricardo usually says to the girls after certain scenes."

"Wow. Okay. Dare I ask what sorts of scenes?"

Ian shrugged. "Anything where something could get sore. If you're not used to butt-plugs, for example, you might hurt the next day. A hard paddling will definitely make you sore, especially if I pound the muscle." He squeezed her ass through her cutoffs as if to emphasize his point.

"Do you...like hurting women?" Grace wasn't sure what the right answer was. Part of her wanted to hear him say no, that it was all just a job to him. Part of her wanted to hear him say yes, and say it in such a way that she could easily leave him, leave the fantasy behind and go back to her normal world where an orgasm didn't come with a heavy dose of nipple torture.

And part of her wanted to hear his explanation. Because surely, his erection didn't lie. He was turned-on. But what exactly about what just happened turned him on?

"Well," he paused, and leaned back against the black-painted wall. His cock was still hard, straining against his pants. "I wouldn't be able to do this job if I didn't love it."

"But why? How?"

"I'm sorry, Grace, I can't think straight when I'm in this state," he laughed, stroking his cock through his jeans.

She licked her lips. What did he want her to do? The few times she'd attempted to give him a blowjob back when they were dating she'd gagged her way through the whole thing, until he finally stopped asking. "I-I can't do that, Sir."

"Do what?"

"Fellatio." Her face burned and she looked down at the black rubber mat in embarrassment.

"We'll work on that, then. But not tonight." He unzipped his pants, revealing a thick, hard cock worthy of any porn movie. It looked bigger than she remembered it, perhaps because he was harder than he'd ever been for her before, perhaps because his dark pubic hair was clipped short and well-groomed. Although...she'd never actually seen his pants down in any of the videos on the website. He never had sex on tape with those women-she would have remembered seeing his cock like that.

"You only ever tie them up," she whispered, and he wrapped his large hand around his cock, stroking it firmly. "You don't fuck them. You whip them. Spank them."

Her words were having an effect on him, she could see. He stroked himself faster, staring into her eyes as she spoke.

"Why do you like to hurt those girls, Ian?"

"It turns me on," he said, his voice soft, as if half of his concentration were on her voice and the other on his hand moving swiftly over his cock. "The moans, the look of exquisite erotic agony uniting with pleasure, that moment when the girl thinks she can't stand it for a moment longer but then she does...and I reward her."

His breathing got faster and he groaned. "I love the power of it, of a woman bound and at my mercy. I can do whatever I want." He climaxed, a thick jet of come that looked like sugar-icing covering his hand. Ian looked down into her eyes and exhaled slowly.

"Thank you for being honest," Grace said, picking her bra and shirt up off the floor. She didn't know how she felt. Aroused still, but disturbed. It was clear he liked to dominate women, at least during sex. She'd grown up her whole life as a strong woman, so where did that put her?

And pain. He loved inflicting pain. But...there was something frighteningly familiar about his sentiments. Because everything that he said turned him on, turned her on as well...except, well, backwards. She wanted to be tied up. She wanted to be at Ian's mercy, so that he could do whatever he wanted to her.

"Excuse me, I need to clean myself up," he said, and walked past her and across the studio into the restroom. She heard water running and the toilet flush and the water run again as she dressed.

Alone in the...dungeon, which was basically what the porn studio was-Grace looked around and saw kink all around her. She didn't belong here, not if she was the "good girl" Ian seemed to think she was. Her breasts ached. Ian was right, she'd need to ice them and take an anti-inflammatory soon.

She picked up her purse. Now that she'd been with Ian again, now that he'd shown her what it was about, maybe she could go home and not wonder about the man who held the whip...about Ian, and what could have been.

Right?

"There's something you should know," he said from behind her, and she whirled around, feeling guilty, as if he caught her planning an escape without saying goodbye.

"You don't owe me an explanation," she said. "I appreciate that you stopped me from working for the porn site. I really do. That would have been the stupidest move ever for me. And I also appreciate the...the lesson."

"What turns me on the most is knowing that you're turned on," he interrupted. "That's what you need to know. I don't fantasize about punching a girl in the face. I don't want to make her bleed, or break a bone or do anything that would actually hurt in a non-sexual way. I like sadomasochism, but only if I have a true masochist-a pain-slut-to play with. I'm not violent, not at all."

"You're a lover, not a fighter," Grace said, bemused.

Ian shrugged. "I just didn't want you to get the wrong impression of me. I know what it looks like on those video downloads. But still-you came here for a reason."

"I wanted to see if we had that old spark, I suppose."

"We don't," he said.

Grace's eyes stung with his declaration. How could he say that? Tonight's experience had been electrifying, at least for her. Apparently not for him, however. "I should go home. I have to work in the morning."

Ian nodded, his handsome face unreadable. "We don't have the old spark because there never was a true spark before. Not like tonight. Tonight, you lit me up in a whole new way. I'd like to see you again."

"On a date?" she asked, wanting to feel the sting of rejection now-so she could more easily walk out the door.

"No, that's not where I am right now. We can't jump back in time to the same relationship we had before, because that one didn't work out. But I think you had a good time tonight, and if I'm right, then maybe you'd want to play some more."

"What would you do to me?" she asked. Why couldn't she turn around and leave already? Was she such a glutton for punishment?

"Whatever I wanted."

A spike of lust ran through her. Yes. "I don't know..."

"I have keys to the studio. I'll meet you here tomorrow after work. My whipping arm might be tired from shooting all day, but I'll save some energy to spank you. I'm dying to see that ass of yours turn pink under my hand."