Page 3 of The Dom with the Kink Monsters

Mack’s brown eyes watched her in the rear view mirror. “You were out cold. I kept talking until I realized you’d drifted off on me.”

“Sorry. I didn’t know it was coming.”

“I know. You always get tired afterward. It wasn’t important anyway. I was just filling the quiet.”

She pressed at the ache between her legs. “You fucked me too hard,” she whined.

“You loved it.”

She put on her best Southern belle accent. “Why sir, I declare you are no gentleman!”

“Why miss, I’m a cad, but you usually enjoy that.” Mack pulled their old, beat-up truck to the curb in front of the coffee shop. “It’s a good thing Malachi and his women weren’t asleep yet. You would have woken them up again. As it is, poor sweet Reece was probably curled into a ball and hyperventilating.”

Living in a house at the same end of the property as the landlord’s house got embarrassing sometimes. Luckily they were kinksters too, and never complained about the noise.

“It’s not my fault! You’re mean.”

“Actually, itisyour fault I’m mean.” He turned off the motor, opened his door and slid out, then he helped Winter out of the back. “I was a perfectly nice young man before I started dating you.”

“This sounds like such an abusive relationship.” She grimaced and he ran his fingers through her tangled hair. Fuck – she’d forgotten to brush it. Nice impression she’d make. She probably looked possessed.

As they went in, she did her best to not noticeably limp, although her sore clit made it difficult to walk normally. Mack flicked a wave at a couple sitting at a table near the back of the café. They grabbed coffee at the counter then went to meet them.

The guy rose to his feet as they approached, which struck Winter as funny. So formal. He was a hulking brute of a man – all muscle and long blond hair. His attitude reminded her of some of the guys from the Norwegian death metal bands they’d hung out with. The man had cheekbones almost as broad as his shoulders.

“Winter, this is Ramsay. Ramsay, this is my woman, Winter. She plays bass.”

Ramsay nodded to her, his blue eyes cold and assessing. Hopefully he wouldn’t be the kind of dickwad who thought the only place for a woman in metal was on her knees sucking cock.

“This is my girl, Saya.” His voice was gravelly and Winter noticed a scar at his throat.

She turned to Saya and nodded. The doll-like brunette smiled shyly and droppedher gaze, which didn’t bode well for them becoming friends. Winter had no use for fluff. The guys settled into their chairs, and Winter sat cautiously, gritting her teeth before her ass made contact with her seat. She was proud she hadn’t winced, but when she looked at the new couple, she could tell they’d noticed. Saya was peeking out at her from under long, dark lashes and smiling in a way that was either ‘please be my friend’ or ‘please don’t eat me’. Winter often had that effect on women, though.

Silently, she sat there drinking her coffee, listening to the guys talk and sorting out what kind of man this was. Ramsay knew what he was talking about, at least, and didn’t seem so high on himself that he’d be impossible to work with. He was self-assured to the point of being distracting, though. Maybe it was just that she was ovulating, or that she still ached from fucking, but there was something about this guy that screamed raw, animalistic sex. His little bunny probably had more than she could handle with him.

Saya had sat there quietly through the entire conversation, eyes on her coffee. The quality of her silence was different than Winter’s. At least when the guys said something amusing, Winter laughed too. Saya didn’t. She seemed lost in her own world. The girl was uncommonly pretty, with delicate features, big brown eyes and a wide sensual mouth. Dark brown ringlets framed her face, giving the impression of innocence. Her dress was a subtle floral pattern, and it clung to her in all the best places. At least she was good to look at even if she wasn’t good company.

“When do you want to come by?” Mack was asking. Had they progressed to that already? Usually Mack talked to them longer and gave them the ‘don’t call us, we’ll call you’ spiel. Obviously Ramsay had impressed him, somehow.

“Now’s fine, unless you’re...busy.” He flashed an amused glance at Winter.

“I’m done with him for now. You two can have a playdate.” Winter curved her lips in a condescending smirk, and his expression sharpened. Irritated or interested – it was difficult to tell.

Mack talked to him for a few more minutes then gave them directions to the house, in case they got separated. They were going to follow in their own vehicle, so that Mack didn’t have to drive them back into town later.

Ramsay had stopped pointedly ignoring her – as though her one statement had changed his entire perception of her. Maybe he liked girls who were a challenge. Whatever had happened, it wasn’t all business anymore. He didn’t try to hide his roving gaze, and sized her up like she was livestock up for auction. This was never going to work, but she didn’t have the heart to tell Mack yet. They’d been looking for a drummer for ages. It hadgotten to the point that it was a joke between them.

They went to the truck and Winter climbed up into the passenger side. She watched their new acquaintances walk to an old SUV. Saya moved like water, hips swaying, more graceful than anyone Winter had seen in real life. She was round in all the places that made her most desirable, with a tiny waist, besides. Toothsome was the word that came to mind. Winter snorted – obviously she’d either been reading too much, or hadn’t been with a girl in too long. Either way, there was a sex appeal about her that made it impossible to look away. Ramsay handed Saya into the passenger side and made sure she was settled in before he shut the door, as though she was something fragile. Maybe he had a bit of a roving eye, but he obviously adored her.

“I like him,” Mack said as they drove off.

“He actually knows how to play drums and he’s not treating you like you’re the second coming. It probably has something to do with the fact that he’s about our age instead of some little high school prick.”

Mack nodded. “Yeah, there’s that, but there’s something else, you know. He seems like he’ll have a good command of the stage. He won’t become background just because he’s behind a wall of drums.”

“Are you getting less cocky in your old age? You need someone to help you hold the stage now?”

“You know what I mean. This was never supposed to be me and my backup band. You draw attention because you’re you, but some of the other guys we tried were either so boring or enthusiastic they were irritating to watch.”

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