Page 31 of The Southern Submission

Luca nods and looks away without comment.

“Is he always that friendly?” I ask Payton without bothering to lower my voice.

“Don’t mind him. He’s an asshole on a good day. It’s not you,” Payton says at the same volume. Clearly, we’re not hurting Luca’s feelings by talking about him like this.

A flash of red hair catches my eye and I turn toward the door, just as Della takes a few steps into the bar. “My friend just arrived.” I wave and catch her attention, thankful for a buffer to this awkwardness.

She sees me and wiggles her fingers before heading to our booth wearing a green silk tank dress. She’s dressed more appropriately for this classy bar than me in work clothes, no matter what Payton thinks of my outfit. I need more details about his clothing preferences because this isn’t even sexy and if that’s a trigger, we’re going to have problems.

“Hi,” she says, sliding in on the other side of Luca, whose icydemeanor warmed a fraction at her addition. He was giving me a thorough once-over with those cold eyes as if he didn’t care much for me. I thought maybe I was invading boys’ night or something, but seeing his reception of Della, it appears he wasn’t pleased with being the third wheel.

“Hey, Dells, thanks for coming,” I say. “Payton, Luca, this is Della Byrnes, my best friend.” I provide the introductions this time, but I’m not as loose with the titles as Payton was.

Della raises her eyebrows at me suggestively as if saying we’ll talk about all this later, regardless of my lack of titles. I’ve given her the barest details about our dates, and I mentioned the kinky stuff Payton is into that I learned more about on our date at Rare. She threw herself on the couch in a fit of despair that I found a man who’s willing to spank me in private and treat me like a princess in public before she could.

She says hello to Payton with a knowing grin before she turns her attention to Luca.

Luca grasps Della’s hand and kisses it, giving her a smile he held back earlier, causing me to snicker. Payton catches on and slips his arm around my hip, pulling me against his side, where I fit perfectly. I try not to appear too awkward since this is supposed to be a two-way thing, and it’s not a bad spot to be, tucked into Payton’s warm body with his big arm around me. I try out leaning into his chest like I want to be there, and it’s not awful, either.

I feel him chuckle against me. I poke his thigh under the table. He squeezes my hip in response, then begins to draw lazy circles that have his long fingers brushing across my thigh and the outer part of my ass. I keep my hand on his thigh for good measure because damn, it's thick and muscular and two can play this game. I flex my fingers against his thigh and he presses his leg closer to mine, giving me more access to anywhere Iwant to explore, it seems. Goddamn, this man is shameless. I keep my hand safely on top of his thigh and stay away from the monster I know is lurking between his legs.

“Burns? Fitting with your hair,” Luca says. He speaks loud enough for us to hear across the large booth.

“Luca, intrusive thoughts stay in your head, please,” Payton admonishes with a laugh.

I tilt my head as I look up at Payton’s profile from my position tucked into his side. The casual way he said it seems like it’s a regular occurrence for them, with Payton having to remind Luca of this fact, so maybe Luca lacks a social filter and they’re quite close outside of their working relationship. It wouldn’t surprise me that Luca needs a reminder to be nice with how cold his reception was when I arrived. I definitely didn’t get the warm fuzzies from him.

“Byrnes with a Y, not a U, but youareplaying with fire,” Della says, leaning into the humor and giving him a wink. Della loves that joke and obviously likes the vibe Luca is giving off if she’s willing to be this playful off the bat.

I smile and shake my head, leaving her to it. She’s more than capable of handling herself with a new guy she finds attractive, and the way she’s looking at Luca, she does. Maybe he’ll be the kind of guy she’s looking for who’ll treat her like a queen in public and spank her in private.

My cheeks heat, thinking about Payton’s descriptions of a spanking and how he’d make me forget the sting but I’d have the marks to remember him by. Okay, more than my cheeks are heating and my hand has slid the length of Payton’s thigh and back.

I squirm, rubbing my thighs together. Payton’s hand stills against my hip, his fingers gripping my thigh tighter like he knows exactly where my thoughts have traveled somehow. Heisn’t even putting sex into the conversation tonight and that’s where my thoughts are straying anyway. Is it me? Am I the problem? Did he break me that easily and now that’s what I’ll think of anytime I’m with him? He’s fucking with my head without even trying. Damn, I need a drink, and fast.

There’s an espresso martini already on the table along with a tumbler of amber liquor over ice in front of Payton. I grab the martini. I’ve never tried one, but I like coffee, and the drink sounds like something I would like in theory. I take a tentative sip and make a face. No, I definitely don’t like it. How can both espresso and alcohol fail me like that?

“This is disgusting.” I push the glass his way. “Vodka soda with lime.” I give him my actual drink order. “Oh my God, I need the taste of that out of my mouth immediately.”

He laughs, handing me his glass. “Have my bourbon while you wait.”

I take a small sip. The fire of the bourbon burns the espresso martini out of my mouth in phases as Payton signals for a server, who hurries over. He orders my new drink, and Della asks for a gin and tonic. The server leaves and I take another sip of Payton's drink, knowing his lips have been along the same spot.

“You could have given me your actual drink order when I told you where to meet me.”

I hand his glass back and he swirls the bourbon around, making the ice tinkle gently. I raise my eyebrows at him incredulously.

“You didn’t give me the opportunity. You’re quite overbearing and hardly patient enough to allow me the chance to tell you what I actually want when it comes to anything.”

“You’re usually so vocal and opinionated, I figured you’d tell me either way.” He laughs.

Hetakes a sip of his drink right over the spot my gloss left a lip print, licking the rim of the glass suggestively before he sets the tumbler on the table in front of him. A hint of pink transferred to his lips. I reach up and smooth my thumb along his bottom lip to remove the gloss, and he presses a kiss to the pad of my thumb before I can pull my hand away. I look at him in surprise, not sure if he’s just an overly affectionate man, or if this is all for show for our friends. He did say he’s very hands-on and that’s been true each time I’ve been around him, so is this just Payton, or is it fake?

“How was your week, Muffin?” he asks with a soft expression as he observes my confusion.

The server returns with our new drinks. I gratefully take the vodka soda and squeeze the lime into the bubbly liquid to avoid thinking too hard about what’s real and what’s not.

“Fine. And stop calling me that.” I look over at him as I bite the straw in my drink contemplatively. I set the glass down. “You haven’t messaged me in a few days.” I don't want to ask him why; that feels so needy. I want him to willingly tell me why without having to pry it out of him.

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