“I have a crazy idea,” she said, her blue eyes lit up with mischief.

“Is it feeding you cake? Because we tried that and it didn’t work.”

She shook her head, and bit her lower lip briefly. “Teach me,” she breathed out, and all the air swept out of his lungs. He froze, as shock spread through his body in a nanosecond.

“Teach you what?” he asked in a wobbly voice as he began to recover the power of speech.

“Teach me how to let go. Teach me how to give up control.”

He shoved a hand roughly through his hair, and swallowed. His throat was dry. He grabbed for a glass and downed the rest of his water. “Are you kidding me?”

“No. I’m not kidding. I know it sounds crazy. But maybe it’s not crazy. I’m the head of a damn sex toy company and I don’t know how to give up control. Maybe because I’m surrounded by all these toys. Because I’ve learned every detail of my own body and what I like, and how to turn up the setting higher, or adjust the vibration lower, or thrust harder, or tease more, to yield the result,” she said, laying out her pleasure-seeking clinically like it was a math problem, when to him it was a vision of sensual beauty—her on the bed, legs spread, learning the intricacies of her own body, a territory he longed to explore intimately. “And now, when I’m with a guy, and God knows it’s been a long time since that,” she said with a scoff, “it’s so hard for me to let go of the reins I’ve been holding onto for so long. But I want to learn. And we’re friends. I trust you completely, and it would never ruin our friendship because there would never be anything more.”

“You want me to give you lessons in seduction?” he asked, making sure he wasn’t imagining this. Because he’d had these sort of dreams before.

She straightened her spine and shook her head. “I don’t want lessons in seduction. I want lessons in submission.”

Holy shit. Screw the New Orleans heat wave. It was a certified scorcher in this small little bistro. His neck was hot, his jeans were tight. His mind was operating in overdrive. He started to open his mouth to speak, but everything was a jumble.

She brought her hand to her mouth, covering it. “Shit,” she muttered. “That was a ridiculous thing to ask. Completely presumptuous. You’re probably not even attracted to me. Forget I said it.” She backpedaled as she clearly misinterpreted his silence.

“I assure you, my attraction to you is not the issue. I think the bigger issue is—are you attracted to me?”

“You’re handsome,” she said, her lips curving in a sweet smile as she locked eyes with him. “You’re very, very handsome, Nate.”

Handsome was good. He could work with handsome. And because he didn’t even want her to ask the question about herself, he preempted her. “And for the record, Casey, you’re absolutely fucking gorgeous.”