Even if he was.

He ran his hands through his hair and tried to quiet the pounding in his chest. He still hadn't been able to get the images from the book out of his head, even while he held Kate in his arms. And now Kate was going to read him a passage from it! He had to admit the prospect thrilled him, even while it filled him with dread. He couldn't believe Kate felt as he did about such things--surely she didn't lie awake at night, so obsessed with some wicked image or other that she couldn't sleep. Sometimes just a picture from a catalog could set his heart pounding. A leather dog leash in a pet store window or a twist of rope at a hardware store could keep his mind racing well into the night. And the more he tried to force those thoughts away--and he did try to force those thoughts away--the more they danced behind his eyelids and tormented him, causing his cock to swell under the heat of his blankets.

Surely Kate was not this way. Perhaps to her it was a game, nothing more. If she ever came to truly understand the visions that swirled in the darkest corners of Ryan's mind, she wouldn't want him.

And still, entirely against his will, Ryan's whole body tingled at the prospect of hearing those wicked pictures painted in Kate's own voice. He listened to her footsteps upstairs, willing her to return quickly.

He closed his eyes, forbidden pictures swirling across his vision. Pictures of a man--a helpless but very willing man--hands tied behind his back while his mistress teased him mercilessly. The man in Jeannie's book loved every minute of it. That thought was intoxicating. Almost of their own volition his hands crept behind him, as if tied there. His muscles clenched as if he were struggling to get free, the very idea sending a jolt of electricity to his groin. More than anything in the world, he wanted Kate to make him feel this way.

But she must never know it.

The soft padding of Kate's feet across carpet made him take in a quick breath and yank his hands into his lap. He wondered if she would notice he was breathless, and realize why. He also wondered how on earth he could control his urges once Kate began to read. He clenched his fists, determined to maintain control even if it killed him.

And yet, even as he strengthened his resolve, a line from Jeannie's book echoed across his mind: 'My Mistress comes.'