Page 63 of The Fighter

“I’ll have the same.”

I have so many questions for Tomas. I wait until our server delivers our drinks before peppering him with them. “How long have you been coming here?”

“Since I moved to Venice,” he replies. “If you’re looking for a certain type of sex, and you don’t want a relationship, this is a good place to meet somebody.”

My imagination throws up an image of Tomas chatting up some beautiful woman. I wipe my palms on my dress. “Do you have sex here, or do you take them back to your house?”

“There are private rooms in the back, so yes, I’ve had sex here. I don’t take anyone back to my house. You’re the only woman who’s ever slept in my bed.”

My head jerks up. “Ever?” It makes sense, in a twisted sort of way. Tomas has been pretty open about not wanting to be in a relationship. “She really broke your heart, didn’t she?”

A pensive look fills his eyes at my mention of Estela. “At the start, that’s what it was about. Now? It feels like a bad habit.” The music changes to something with a slow, thumping beat. “The evening is yours, dolcezza. We could stay and have a drink, watch the floor show, and go home. Or, we could play.” He leans forward. “Tell me what you want.”

His smile is a carnal invitation, and I intend to accept. “I want to play.”

“Tell me your safe word.”

I wet my lips. “Asset.”

“That’s never not going to be funny to me,” he responds, his lips twitching. “Asset, it is. Come here, Ali.”

I get up to sit next to him. He pulls me closer, my back pressing against his chest. “You want to be tied up tonight, Ali?” he murmurs into my ear.

The low, pounding drumbeat of the music pulses in rhythm with the throbbing between my legs. “Yes, please.”

“What else are you interested in exploring tonight?”

“I don’t know.” I’ve read books and watched porn, so I have some idea of all the things that could happen. But I feel like a kid in a candy store, overwhelmed with the choices. He could spank me and flog me, bind my breasts with rope, or use clamps on my nipples. He could do all that and so much more. How do I pick? Where do I even start?

“I like being spanked,” I admit in a low voice. It’s not much of a confession; Tomas saw exactly how wet I got when he spanked me this morning. “Maybe more of that?”

“Would you like to be spanked with something other than my hand?”

His voice is serious, but there’s a gleam in his eyes that gives me pause. “Like what? A whip?”

“It’s probably best if I show you.” He presses the button that summons our server. “Could you bring us a set of impact toys, please?” He gives me a speculative glance. “I think my companion would be interested in trying a paddle, a flogger, and a crop.”

Oh. My. God. My cheeks flame as the server writes our order on her tablet. “What kind of flogger would she like?” she asks, addressing her question to Tomas. “Our basic option is a cowhide leather with fifty falls, but we also have a twenty-fall version for beginners and one with eighty falls if you want a more intense experience. Then there are our petal floggers, which are made of recycled bicycle tires. The rubber is a stronger sting than the cowhide, and it leaves petal-shaped marks on bare skin.”

“What do you think, Ali?”

I think I’m going to die of embarrassment. “I’ll take the regular version,” I mumble, unable to look her in the eye.

She punches it in. “For paddles, we have leather, wood, and fur. If you pick the leather, there’s a looped option, a three-layer leather slapper?—”

This goes on for a while. Tomas is clearly enjoying my squirming because he takes his time with the selection of toys. “People are going to see them,” I hiss when the server finally leaves to fill our order. “She’s going to bring the toys here, and everyone will be able to see them.”

“So what?” he asks calmly.

I open my mouth to answer and then close it. I don’t really have an answer to his question. The server was unfazed by Tomas’s request. We’re in a booth, mostly hidden from view, and nobody is watching us. So what if she deposits a collection of sex toys on the table? We’re in a sex club.

Our server returns with a tray loaded up with floggers and whips. She sets the perverted display on the table with a smile. “Can I get you anything else?”

I can’t look at her. My eyes lock onto a black leather flogger, its tails as long as my forearm. A shiver runs through me when I picture Tomas behind me, swinging it down on my bared, defenseless ass.

“Thank you, Natalya,” Tomas says calmly. “We’ll ring the bell if we need anything else.”

Just then, the hostess escorts a couple to the booth behind us. The man is wearing a suit, and the woman is wearing a short red dress that barely covers her ass. Her eyes rest on our table, and a mischievous smile curves her lips. “Looks like you have a fun evening planned.” She holds out a business card to Tomas. “Let us know if you feel like company.”

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