Page 32 of Dash

“I’ve not done it.”

Bringing his fingers together, he pinched her thigh lightly, playfully.

With wide eyes, she pulled her leg away and yelped.

“Gingersnap.” He growled as he slipped slightly into his dominant mode. “I don’t like to repeat questions.”

Lowering her gaze, she put her leg back. He didn’t replace his hand. As far as he took it, she had withdrawn her permission for him to touch her. He wasn’t about to assume he had it back.

“Do you want me to put my hand back?” he asked.

She nodded.

He didn’t move. “Tell me.” He wanted her to verbalize it, so that he could be sure.

“I want you to put your hand back,” she whispered.

“Answer my question, and I will.”

“No, it’s not a limit,” she said, and her cheeks turned that delightful shade of pink that he decided he liked on her.

Resting his hand on her thigh again, he rubbed at the section where he’d pinched. It hadn’t been hard, she wouldn’t have a mark from it. He squeezed her leg affectionately and nuzzled into her neck. “That’s better,” he whispered into her ear. “Isn’t it?”

“Yes,” she hissed.

Her perfect response made him smile. Not all power exchange plays needed equipment. He’d accomplished plenty of it with conversations.

Gingersnap jerked back. Blinking, she reached into her bra and gave him an apologetic look. Furrowing his brows, he watched as she did her best to peer at a phone, but keep it hidden. Another rule for the play space, no photography and no phones. If a Dungeon Master caught someone with a phone, they were thrown out, and possibly banned from future parties.

Frowning, she tucked it back in her bra. “I’m sorry. I have to take this.”

He leaned back, giving her the space she needed to get up. Stroking his beard, Dash watched as she made her way to the bathroom. He couldn’t help but applaud her ability to walk in those heels, and speedily at that. Sitting back, he adjusted himself, and watched the scene in front of him.

Ane was apparently quite the rigger. She’d trussed up a man dressed as a puppy, with a tail, snout, and matching wrestling singlet. Suspended off the ground a good foot, she held the rope and pushed his foot so he spun slowly. Dash kicked himself for not paying closer attention to the scene, which had drawn quite a crowd.

“I’m sorry,” Gingersnap repeated her apology over his shoulder. “I have to go. Work,” she said and frowned.

Standing, he turned toward her and noted she’d changed. Now dressed in scrubs, she carried her own duffle bag. He grabbed his bag and slung it over his shoulder. “Let me walk you out,” he offered.

Chapter 16

Dash

He’d gotten her number at her car, and they’d agreed to text each other. For once, it wasn’t his responsibilities that had interrupted his opportunity to play. She had work; it didn’t matter how much he wanted to text her to set something up, she wouldn’t respond. So he opted to just leave it alone, give her space, and focus on something else.

Speeding down a straight strip of road in an industrial area, one he knew was dead this time of night, Dash shifted gears on his bike. With this kind of tension, he could release it two ways: either caning an ass or wind therapy. He’d been denied the opportunity to play, so a ride have to do.

Though, taking Blue up to his room remained an option. She could take a mean throat fucking. That might do it for him. It was no caning, but it did mean shooting his load. None of his brothers had claimed her as their own, and she had her apprenticeship. She still flirted with him. Hell, she even asked him if he wanted to go with her when she got her hair dyed. And fuck him if he hadn’t considered it just out of boredom and curiosity.

He needed something. Celibacy wasn’t for him. Fuck, it wasn’t for any biker. There wasn’t a damn one percenter on the planet that wasn’t getting some kind of ass. He hadn’t become a monk when he added kink to his alternative sexual life choices. Why in the hell was he denying himself any damn way?

Shaking his head, disgusted with himself, he leaned into a turn. Lack of pussy had seriously made him stupid or something. Too much jizz in his system, and he’d forgotten the benefits of nutting. Twisting the throttle, he headed home, back to the clubhouse.

Once he released the pressure, he could make plans with Gingersnap for a play session. He’d be able to concentrate on her and not think with his little head. Being a cliché horny dominant was not the impression he wanted to make. His focus needed to be on her. Taking the edge off with a club whore would be beneficial.

Stopping at a light, he put his feet on the pavement and took out his vibrating phone. Hopefully, he’d see a text from Gingersnap. He grinned in anticipation. Perhaps she was eager for a session too.

The string of numbers deflated his good mood. He didn’t store club brothers’ contact information in the burner phone. They all used disposables to send messages. Anything communicated was club business, so it didn’t matter who sent it.

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