"You're having me on."
"You told me to get you a costume for the Halloween party," Justin said, folding his arms uncompromisingly across his chest. "I did."
"But..." Brianna looked at the outfit that lay on top of the duvet. Her heart stopped for a moment, then galloped forward in a rush of emotion. Then she looked into her fiancé's deep green eyes. She knew when he was teasing her. Then, his eyes were a lighter shade. But now, they were as verdant as Sherwood Forest after a winter's rain. "This isn't exactly what we talked about. It's not a thing like I was expecting, actually."
She'd had an affinity for the South ever since she'd read Gone with the Wind while she'd attended university. Last week, when they'd talked about going to a costumed party, she'd told him she wanted to be Scarlett O'Hara.
She'd pictured him as a perfect Rhett Butler. She'd wear a long, elegant gown and a fabulous hat. He could wear a natty suit. She could simper and sigh, and at the end of the night, he could sweep her up their not-so-grand staircase. It would be a night of fun and yumminess.
Instead, he'd gotten her something that was strictly X-rated, shiny, skimpy, and scandalous.
A delicious shiver of anticipation and disbelief danced up her spine. He was leading them in the next step to the type of relationship she'd been asking for.
Only two articles of clothing, if they could actually be called clothing, lay on the bed. The top piece was a corset that had silver metal studs up the front so it could be laced and then cinched closed. There was an accompanying hipster skirt that would barely cover her bum. A studded belt accompanied the outfit.
"It's what I want you to wear," he said, his voice containing the sexy huskiness she recognised as arousal.
Her pulse gave an instinctive little skip. She responded to her man so completely, loved him so totally. "Uhm..." Brianna paused and looked over at him. "Where's the rest?"
"There are shoes in that box." He nodded towards the end of the bed.
"This is it?" She was incredulous. Scandalised. And, ah, turned on. "Let me get this straight. You actually want me to wear this in public?"
"I got hard just thinking about you in it."
Still holding the corset, Brianna met her fiancé's gaze. He stood in the doorway of their bedroom, his left shoulder braced against the jamb. His arms were still folded across his chest, and a lock of deep, dark hair fell across his forehead.
"You get hard anytime the wind blows. You give a whole new meaning to a stiff breeze."
"You're cheeky, Bree."
She grinned.
"It wasn't a compliment."
"Oh."
"But it's your choice, really. If you'd rather be a Southern priss who deserves a spanking rather than a seductive little hussy who's actually going to get one, the choice is yours."
"If I wear it, I get spanked? Why didn't you say so earlier?"
"Wench."
A handful of months ago, she'd mentioned expanding their sexual repertoire. After she'd heard about it from a girlfriend, she'd even dared to mention BDSM. His eyes had gone dark. At first, she'd thought he was horrified. But then a slow smile had spread across his face. Turns out, he'd told her, he'd been involved in several D/s relationships before. He could not have been happier about her suggestion that they explore the boundaries of desire and discipline.
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