Page 18 of Cabin Fever
“I have no idea what that means.”
I shrug.
“You’re getting paid to help me with things that are sexy, sweetheart. The kink scenes. The intimacy. The ones where I tie you up.”
Her shoulders stiffen, but she doesn’t look away. “Tie me up? So… you want me to help you with—like—sex scenes?”
“Yes,” I say, and I let it hang there, naked and unashamed. “Exactly that.”
She swallows. Her pulse is pounding in her throat, visible even from across the table.
“And I would be…” She falters, looking for the right word. “A character?”
I smile, slow and wide. “Sometimes. Sometimes just yourself. Sometimes whatever I need you to be. That’s the job. You’ll be playing a role.”
She chokes a bit, and I let her stew in it for a minute. Some people run at this point, but I can see Kat thinking. She’s wondering what kind of perv I am, and what kind of kinks I’m envisioning. She stares at me before licking her lips.
“And if I say no?”
I shrug, slow, deliberate.
“Then we finish out the week as boss and assistant, and you walk away with a small bonus as a thank you for your time. No hard feelings.”
She considers. For a second, I think she’ll bolt, or maybe just laugh it off and do dishes until bedtime. But she surprises me, as she’s been doing since she walked in.
“But what kind of scenes are you thinking?”
Ah, we’re finally getting somewhere. I paint the first scenario in her head with words—something simple, something vanilla but with an edge.
“The usual stuff,” I drawl. “I’m doing research right now, so I don’t even have much of a plot yet. But I’m thinking of a standard trope: my character could be a shy intern with a handsome older boss. Maybe we’d start with her bent over the desk, taking dictation. Maybe we’d see how far she’s willing to go before she says stop.”
Kat’s nodding, slowly, her hands in fists in her lap.
“Okay,” she says, voice small but steady. “I can do that.”
I resist the urge to jump with joy. Instead, I act calm.
“Great, because that’s just the beginning. Again, I’m still tossing around ideas, so there could also be a student-professor scene where she’s a shy undergrad who stays after class to speak with a world-famous professor. Something like that.”
Kat swallows hard.
“Funny, because I did have a professor who was a Nobel prize winner. But he wasn’t a romantic hero in the least. He was about seventy-five.”
“We’ll change that part,” I say. “So do you think you’re in?”
Kat takes a deep breath.
“I don’t want to get hurt, meaning I don’t want any severe physical injury. I don’t want to be beaten, or to bleed, or anything like that. And I want a safe word.”
I toast her with the last of my wine, and nod.
“Of course, that’s not an issue at all. In fact, I’d insist on those precautions.”
“So that’s it?”
“For now,” I say in a low tone. “Why don’t you get some sleep? We’ve talked enough about what I need for now, so get some zzz’s and we’ll talk again tomorrow.”
Kat gets up to clear the table, but I wave her off.
