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jeans. Some of them were good-looking too, so it wasn’t as
if all eyes would be on her. He’d taken off his shirt for her, not that it was
precisely the same thing. She had to admit she’d get a perverse thrill out of
stripping.
    But the other part. Bondage. Not able to get free. Oh, yeah,
she’d feel out of control then, for sure. She supposed it was the sort of thing
she ought to experience, but it scared the shit out of her.
    “Would I be able to get free of the cuffs anytime I want
to?”
    “Just say banana and they’ll come off you.”
    In other words, no. Not unless I trust him to take them
off. She supposed if it came to it, with all these people around, she could
get help if she really needed it. That had probably been part of what he’d been
getting at, telling her it was safer to do it here than in private.
    The silence stretched, but if he was uncomfortable with it
she couldn’t read it on his face. He stood there as if he had all night to wait
for an answer. Maybe he did.
    “I’m willing to try the cuffs. If you’ll really get them off
me the moment I say the word.”
    “I will.”
    She nodded. There was no way she could ever know for sure,
but she believed him.
    “I’ll go get them. The other stuff will stay out in the car,
so you’ll know that the scene isn’t going to involve anything we didn’t agree
on.” He didn’t wait for her affirmation but walked away, his long strides
eating up the distance even though his pace didn’t seem rushed.
    She supposed that gave her time to think about the question
of removing clothes. Was this how most BDSM relationships worked, with the
person in the submissive role making all the decisions? She wasn’t convinced.
    “This isn’t the real thing,” she told him when he returned.
    “It isn’t?”
    “No. I don’t think Dora gets a choice as to whether she’s
going to strip or not.”
    He chuckled. “They’ve been at this for a while. They’ve
built up trust. You’re right, in a way. Clyde gives the orders and Dora obeys.
But don’t think he does it lightly. Dora can walk out of that relationship
anytime she wants, and Clyde knows it. He’s got to trust her too, or every order
he gave he’d be worried that things would come crashing down around his ears if
he got it wrong. They’re partners.”
    “Do you worry about every order?” She somehow couldn’t
imagine that. Even if he was taking it slow, he seemed utterly sure of himself.
But maybe not of her.
    “I try to do it right. But the answer is no. I don’t let
myself get in so deep that it’s the end of my world if someone doesn’t want to
play with me again.” He grinned.
    That’s good. That’s just what I need, no emotions
involved.
    “But since you don’t think it’s the real thing if I give you
too many choices, Kyra, take your shirt and your jeans off. And your shoes. I
want to see your body.”
    With those words she realized that her notion that she could
be in her underwear here and not be watched was totally wrong. He would be
watching, intently. And she’d pushed him into ordering her. Fuck.
    She decided her best bet was to be as blasé about the whole
thing as possible. So she kicked off her shoes, then gave them each another
kick so that they were resting against the bottom of the wooden cross. She
pulled off her shirt and gave him a glance that she hoped looked casual.
Judging from the smile on his face he liked what he saw, or he found her
amusing. Or both. Casual, casual. She shimmied her jeans off her legs.
    He was watching her all right, and the look he gave her made
her think he was looking at a totally different woman than she saw in the
mirror every morning. He looked her over from head to toe and then back up
again. She didn’t want him to be repulsed, but she was definitely not used to
that kind of attention.
    “So. Let’s get this over with.” She put out her wrists,
trying to forget she was standing around in her underwear.
    The cuffs were leather,