Page 25 of On His Terms

But now…?

Ever since the night at the Den, he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about the saucy, sexy submissive. He’d enjoyed introducing her to things she’d never tried before, seeing what made her nervous, then pushing her past those fears.

And fucking her…?

She was unbelievably responsive, and he couldn’t get enough of her.

Now, the idea of her calling every Dominant in Denver pissed him the hell off.

It shouldn’t matter. He told himself it didn’t.

But goddamn it, it did.

Someone with less skill than him might crush her innocence and joy of discovery. Worse, she could be physically or emotionally hurt.

He dragged his hand through his hair. Alex wanted to be the one to watch her blue eyes open wide, to soothe her when she was frightened, to teach her proper decorum.

Fuck it.

If she was so desperate to be trained, he’d be the one to do it.

Resolute, he strode back to his desk, snatched up his phone, then scrolled through the contacts list until he found the number for Lyle, Sara’s Dom.

As Alex expected, and hoped, Sara refused to give him Chelsea’s contact information. Instead, Sara asked for Alex’s number and said Chelsea would contact him, if she wanted to.

Wanted to?

It took all of his restraint to be polite instead of slamming down the phone.

He paced, continually checked his phone, and fumed before finally getting back to work.

Before leaving for the night, Gavin knocked on the doorframe, then entered without an invitation and dropped into the chair on the far side of his desk. “How’d it go at the Den?”

Gavin’s question seemed casual, but it wasn’t. Returning to the club after an extended absence had been significant, both because of the crash of the Bartholemew deal and because of Liz. “Small party. No one seemed to give a shit about the past.”

“Good to hear.” He drummed his fingers on his thigh. “Anything interesting happen?”

Alex narrowed his gaze. “Who’d you talk to?” After his regrettable drunkfest so long ago, Gregorio had placed him in the guest quarters, and Damien had given Gavin a heads-up. Appreciated, but not needed.

“No one.” Gavin grinned. “I’m fishing. But it seems I landed something. Shall I reel it in?”

Though he was tempted to tell his only sibling to fuck off, Gavin wouldn’t give up.

“Yeah. Name’s Chelsea. Wants me to train her.”

Gavin stopped drumming his fingers. “Bro—”

“I know.”

“You going to do it?”

“She’s going through every Top in the club trying to find someone.”

“And you don’t trust most of them?”

“Yeah. And she wants Evan C.”

He scowled furiously. “That cocksucker?”

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