Page 68 of Obey

My face is on fire. I might have mentioned the kinky bucket list while I was ranting about how at one time, I’d have done anything for Harry. The offer is tempting, but this is Jagger’s space, and I can’t muscle my way into it.

I’m also not sure I could play with someone else while Jagger stands and watches. That would be... weird? Even if he doesn’t feel anything for me, even if he doesn’t care, I care.

“What are you doing here?”

My back is to the door, but that grumbly, low voice is easily identifiable and speaks straight to my core sending waves of shivers all over my body.

“I brought back your sweatshirt.” I have no idea how my voice doesn’t crack, waver, or shake, but I’m super proud of myself as I pick the bag up from my feet and hold it out to the side. I can’t turn to face him, not yet.

Addison raises a questioning eyebrow. “You’re returning his shirt, but you didn’t do the deed?”

I shrug. “I got ketchup on my shirt.”

She sits back, love hearts dancing around her head. “Awwwww. That’s sweet.”

“And so unlike Jagger.” Paige turns her attention to the man in question, who unsurprisingly grunts.

“Right, you’ve returned it. You can leave now.”

Kenzie gasps, Paige looks like she might rip his throat out.

Is this guy for real? He doesn’t get to just... dismiss me because he’s done with me. My face burns with embarrassment in front of these glorious, strong women I just met, and all that righteous indignation and anger bubbles over inside me.

I squeak my chair back on the tiles, brace my hands on the table, and push to stand before rounding on him. “Listen here, you hulking great brute. You don’t own the universe. I came here to return something to you out of the goodness of my heart. And now, I’m half inclined to keep it because you’re being rude. And I don’t like rude.” I cross my arms. Maybe that’ll keep the pain from sinking into my chest.

“I realize I’m blindsiding you at your place of work but it’s the only place I knew where to come to return it to you. And these lovely ladies invited me to join them for a drink. I’m not here to stalk you, nor was I waiting for you. I was happy to drop the bag here and leave but they convinced me to stay, and I was more than enjoying chatting with them.”

I take a step toward him, pointer finger outstretched. “You don’t deserve me returning your shirt, Grumpasaurus Rex. Maybe I should hold onto it until your attitude changes.”

A man to his left snorts. “You’ll be waiting a long time for that to happen.” When he realizes I heard him and turned my attention to him, he steps toward me, hand outstretched. “Slade. Protocol is my establishment. It’s a pleasure.”

“Oh. Well, apologies for my outburst, Mr. Slade. I’ll be done and out of your hair in a minute.”

He waves me off before taking a seat at the next table, kicking his feet onto it and crossing his ankles. “Don’t let me stop you. This is the most fun I’ve had in a while. Please, continue.”

Paige rolls her eyes, but the other two women giggle. Jagger’s scowly scowl gets even scowlier.

“You should leave.” His jaw is tense, his words clipped, and a muscle is feathering in his cheek.

“Is that so?” Hands planted firmly on my hips, I square my shoulders.

He nods.

“Bless your heart.”

“Uh oh. He’s activated the southern woman.” Kenzie’s whisper isn’t as quiet as she might have thought.

Rolling my lips so I don’t end up in jail for tearing this beautiful man’s beautiful head off his shoulders, I instead pick my purse up off the floor. Digging around in my purse, I realize everyone around me is silent, waiting for what’s going to happen. It’s too late now, I’m committed and can’t back down. If I do, then another butt-face-boy is walking over me, and I’ve had quite enough of that this year already.

In fact, didn’t Mr. Grumpasaurus help me find myself juuuust a bit during our time together? Darn tootin’ he did. So this is pretty much his own fault.

I walk over to Mr. Slade and present him with my credit card. “I’d like to join your club please, Mr. Slade."

“We don’t have memberships here, Half-Pint. It’s not that kind of club.” His voice has that edge to it, you know the tone that says you’re about to get an ass-whoopin?

Mr. Slade nods. “He’s right. There’s a cover fee for the dungeon. But we’re an inclusive club. I don’t like exclusionary membership policies.” he whispers. “And it’s just Slade. First name, not last.” He’s not condescending, but there’s mischief written all over his face. His eyes twinkle. “I mean, I’m tempted to start memberships right here, right now. You’re a very convincing woman, Talia, was it?”

I nod, mute, my mouth dry, brain scrambling for what the heck to do now. My neck is on fire, I’m pretty sure tendrilsof steam are coming out of the back of my shirt from the embarrassment cooking me alive from the inside out.

---