Page 21 of Masters of Play

"That's better, isn't it?"

It was better than better. It was brilliant. Under Owen’s magical hands, my body loosened up one vertebra at a time. With my body relaxing, my brain fog began to clear.

"Does your brother know you're here?" I asked.

"Al dropped me off."

"But he didn't come in?"

Owen found another kink in my shoulder blades and rubbed until it gave way. I was melting into a puddle, and so I forgot my question until he answered a moment later.

"Alan's not good with the emotional stuff. He just wants to fuck you. And we can't do that until you pass your class. Right?"

"Right."

Owen's touch gentled as his thumbs made his way down my spine. The gentle kneading of him pressing into me with his left and then his right thumb was hypnotic. I wanted to reach behind and pull him to me to taste his lips. But I couldn't. He'd bound my hands to keep me still.

"Owen?"

"Hmm?"

"Alan said he thinks you're falling in love with me."

"Yeah."

"Wait—Yeah as in yes? Or yeah, as in...?"

"Yeah."

I swallowed a few times, but it was hard for me to digest that nugget of information. "I don't see how that's possible. You barely know me."

"You're smart. You're beautiful. I like talking to you." Owen's hands had traversed the entire route of my spine. His hands were now on my hips, his thumbs rubbing circles around the outline of my sacrum.

"That's it?" I asked. "That's all?"

"Should there be more to it than that?"

"It's only three data points. Can you fall in love with someone with only three data points?" I twisted my upper body to try to see his face.

"You're the scientist, you tell me."

It couldn't be enough. There had to be more to it than that. And besides the quantity, it was qualitatively crazy.

Love needed time. It needed context. It needed more data points. Right?

But here was Owen who said he loved me in such a short time with little data. Then there was Professor Sinead, who had known me for years and had lots of data on me, but he was fighting feelings that were clearly there. And then there was Alan sitting in the middle. He’d had enough data and time to know he wanted to fuck me, but not enough to proclaim any emotional feelings.

"Wait, that's it," I said.

"That's what?"

"I figured it out. I know how to fix my dissertation!" I raised my hands to reach for a pen at my desk, but I ran into a bit of a problem. "Um, can you untie me so I can get to work?"

Chapter Thirteen

"In my research, I aimed to explore the lived experiences of individuals involved in the BDSM culture. My purpose was to determine how they perceived their level of kink or sexual deviancy."

There was a butt squidge in the otherwise quiet room. My gaze immediately tracked to Professor Sinead. He sat immobile, his forearms braced on the chair and his gaze intent on me.