No. It couldn’t be. She touched the fabric. Goose bumps raised on her arms as realization dawned. Vibrating panties.

“Rafe…”

In control, dominant, with an obvious, full expectation of her compliance, he sat back, steepled his hands in front of him, and waited.

Hope went through her usual mental gymnastics, like she had with the rose at the Bluewater Grill. She wanted to say no, but she was also intrigued. The experiences with the butterfly had been awful, yet the orgasms had been worth the aggravation. The fact that they were in public gave her pause. What if she groaned so loud that others heard her? Then again, would anyone notice?

She reached toward the panties, then dropped her hand in indecision again.

Of course, there was the word she could use as a safety net, yet the wicked part of her that he’d uncovered flicked it to the side. If she did cry out, it would reflect on him.

This time, when she reached for the garment, she did it with confidence. Then she grabbed her purse to tuck the small scrap of fabric inside.

He shook his head.

“What?”

“No hiding.”

“You don’t care if people know what we’re doing?”

“Not in the least.” The rich timbre of his voice shot through her, reminding her of the dirty things he’d said to her in the shower. “In fact, I’d prefer that they did.”

With a sigh, she pushed back her chair. Like a gentleman, he stood. “One day, sweet Hope, you’ll do what I ask without all this equivocation.”

She doubted that. Clutching the underwear, she fled toward the restroom. And once again, no one paid any attention to her.

The bathroom was elegant, in an old-world way, with gorgeous tiling and brass fixtures. There were a number of individual rooms, each with a heavy door that reached almost to the ceiling. Grateful for the privacy, she slipped into the silky panties. Then, filled with expectation, she stood there, waiting for something to happen.

When it didn’t, she pulled the chain on the overhead tank to flush the toilet, just in case anyone noticed, then shook her head at her own ridiculousness.

She paused to wash her hands at the vanity, and the sight of her reflection made her do a double take. Her eyes were more golden than ever before. Perhaps because of the collar? Hope traced it, marveling at the woman in the mirror. She was still herself, but so much more… More adventurous, more alive. Rafe had given her all that, and the more she received, the more she wanted, even when he shocked her with his requests.

A woman, a Domme, if Hope was correct, entered and nodded. Jolted from her thoughts and knowing Rafe would soon send in a search party, or worse, walk in himself, Hope turned on the faucet. After washing and drying her hands, she left the restroom.

As she entered the dining room, her panties buzzed. She froze. Not knowing what to do, she looked around for Rafe. He was studying a menu, paying no attention at all.

Suddenly the vibration stopped. She closed her eyes in relief. Pretending everything was normal, she smoothed the front of her dress, then continued on.

When she reached the table, he stood and pulled out her chair for her. As she was sitting, the panties danced again.

She wasn’t sure she could endure an entire evening like this.

Mercifully, he showed some restraint. In fact, he went long stretches without activating the remote control—long enough for her to relax and forget that she was even wearing the panties. Which made it all the more disconcerting when the vibration chased through her, sometimes for a few seconds, and once for much longer.

After dinner, their server returned with coffee and the dessert Rafe had ordered—the best crème brûlée outside of Paris.

She was adding sugar to her cup when Rafe turned on the panties. Her hand shook as she dumped the crystals, but she struggled to tolerate it, knowing he’d turn off the device in a couple of seconds.

He didn’t.

Instead, he drizzled cream into his cup.

She squirmed.

He picked up his dessert spoon and dipped it into the dessert. “Bite?” he offered.

Had he forgotten that he’d turned it on? She shook her head.

“Don’t mind if I do.” He took a mouthful. “As good as I remember. You’re sure?” He lifted another spoonful.

Source: www.StudyNovels.com
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