I’d gotten used to looking at the human body clinically. Bodies were made up of parts and I knew how they functioned. What to do with them. I knew where I could safely strike, what I could stand on, and how to restrain them without cutting off circulation. My clients came in all shapes and sizes. It didn’t really matter what they looked like to me any more than it matters to your heart surgeon, hairdresser, or masseuse. Bodies were bodies. Parts were parts. I was always in control.

My reaction to him wasn’t in the least clinical and it pissed me off.

Focus. He’s just another client.

“Do you know how to waltz, Mr. Chase? Can you give me a basic box step?”

He led me into the most simple sequence of the waltz, a one-two-three step configuration that moved us around in a box shape. His steps were confident and his frame sturdy, but I could feel exactly what I’d expected to.

He was familiar with the steps, so he was moving through them and assuming I would do the same because he was used to having partners who’d already been given the same choreographed routine as him. He’d never had to lead someone who didn’t know what his next move would be, so they were already doing half the work for him.

He wasn’t bad at all, but bad was what we were after. The kind of bad that made women fantasize about Lucas Steel.

“Okay, you’ve clearly got that,” I said after a few repetitions of the box. He smiled arrogantly, so I added, “You’re a confident leader, but you dance like Alex, not like Lucas Steel. We’re going to change it up and you’re going to give me Lord Steel.”

I retrieved a black velvet blindfold from my bag and held it up.

He cocked an eyebrow. “Are we getting kinky now?”

“In your dreams, Mr. Chase.” I lifted the blindfold and slid it down over my eyes.

I was familiar enough with sensory play to know I would be even more conscious of him now that I couldn’t see, but I still wasn’t prepared. I was hyper-aware of the feel of his big hands, the slight roughness of his palms, how gentle he was as he lifted my hand again and pulled me closer. I noticed the subtle hint of his laundry detergent. I swore I could hear him grinning even though he wasn’t making a sound.

Without being instructed, he led me into a simple box step again, and didn’t have any trouble signaling his intentions so I could follow.

I said, “Now try to throw me off.”

He was silent for a few beats then he whispered, “The Pride and Prejudice movie was better than the miniseries.”

I hesitated for a second, mortally offended by what he’d said even though it wasn’t what I’d meant by my instruction.

“Blaspheme again, Mr. Chase, and you might lose a toe to my stiletto. Don’t use your words, use your body. Break out of the box and show me you can become Lord Steel.”