A Firm Hand: 2 (Bound to You) by Fallon Blake

have been honest surprise and not a lust for wealth. One of the reasons he wasn’t exactly forthcoming about his family was that he was never quite sure if people sought his company for advantage or because they cared to know him. Not that it really mattered. He was perfectly happy with his solitary existence, seeking companionship as he needed it.
    He would not admit how much that felt like a lie as he looked at Genevieve standing in the dim light of his kitchen. With her nakedness and crazy red hair, she shined like a beacon amid the black granite and stainless steel. Vulnerable and anxious, she shifted from foot to foot as if she were unsure of what to do with herself. Somehow he had to get them over this awkward tension that plagued them after they played and fucked.
    Casual affairs had always been his thing. He was accustomed to parting ways with a submissive as soon as a scene was over. He hadn’t had to think beyond that since Danielle. Genevieve deserved better than a thank-you-see-you-next-week. He just wasn’t sure he was capable of giving her much else.
    He came up behind her and massaged her shoulders. She tensed at his touch. Annoyed, he dropped his hands, stepped around her and opened the fridge. Far be it for him to put himself out to make her feel more comfortable. If she wanted to hold on to her nervousness, then so be it. He pulled out a container of Japanese noodles, dipping sauce and two bottles of water. Placing them on the counter, he went in search of chopsticks.
    “Help yourself. You have my permission this time,” he said, smirking as he gestured at the fridge.
    Ah, there was that fuck-you look. Where did it come from, all this petulance? Before they’d begun their affair, he’d attributed most of it to a rebellious personality. Now he wasn’t so sure. Her sarcasm seemed to be more of a defense mechanism, a way to keep people at a distance. Maybe he recognized it in her because in that respect, they were the same. Their methods may have been different, but their objectives were not. What was she protecting herself from?
    “What are you having?” she asked, jolting him from his thoughts.
    “Soba noodles.” He sat on one of the barstools at the island, opened the carton and dug in.
    “Cold?”
    “Yes, cold. Is that a problem?”
    She stared into the open fridge. “Nope. You wouldn’t happen to have any pizza in here, would you?”
    “Nope.”
    She sighed. “I need real food.”
    “This is real food, Genevieve. Sit. You can have some of mine.”
    She closed the fridge. “Cold noodles can’t be good.”
    “Says the foodie who’s hungry for pizza. Sit down,” he said, pointing at the stool next to him. “You’ll like it.”
    She flinched when her skin came into contact with the cold metal. “Seat is kinda chilly. Feels good though.”
    He bet it did. She’d have a reminder every time she sat down for the next few days. Hopefully it was enough to teach the little brat some respect.
    He offered her a bite of his noodles. She looked skeptical, but leaned in and took it.
    “Mmm. It’s actually pretty good,” she said, her words muffled.
    He gave her an I-told-you-so look.
    “Okay. I can admit it. You were right.” She gave him a playful smile as she leaned forward. “More please?”
    He made her work for a few mouthfuls, holding the food just out of reach. She smiled and laughed as she chased the chopsticks, mouth open like a little bird waiting to be fed.
    She scowled. “Do you have to tease me?”
    “I enjoy teasing you, so get used to it.” He shoved a huge clump of noodles between her lips, getting some on her chin and dropping a few strands on her chest. “Oh that’s attractive. You’re making a mess.”
    She smirked as she struggled to chew.
    He grabbed a napkin and gently wiped her face. When he cleaned the noodles from her chest, he accidentally brushed one of her nipples, causing her to shiver. He loved the way the peak hardened around the steel ring. The