Page 19 of Whatever Lola Wants

“Hmm.”

Lola turned the laugh into a cough. She’d bet her Ferragamos that Grant was going to be reading up on electrical play very soon.

Anna reached out to pat her on the back. “Are you okay?”

“Sure,” Lola managed, and cleared her throat. “Went down the wrong way.”

Grant’s eyes laughed into hers as he tugged Anna closer. “I’m going to go get my bag, sugar. Stay here.”

“We’re going to play?” she asked, delight lighting her face.

He drew a finger down her nose. “We’re going to play.” He tapped her nose once before he walked off towards the locker rooms.

Lola chuckled. “I assume you’d rather I not hang out and watch your scene.”

Anna grimaced. “I know I get off on people watching, but you’re like my sister, and that’s just weird.”

Lola laughed. “No worries, sweetie. I’ll find something to occupy my time.”

“Ladies,” came a deep voice from behind them, and they both turned.

Michael smiled at them, looking every inch the Dom.

“Hello, Michael.”

“Lola. I trust you’ve had a chance to do some exploring?”

“Grant and Anna gave me the grand tour,” she told him. “You have a fantastic place.”

“That’s what we like to hear.” He shifted his attention to Anna, his smile warming. “And how are you this evening, Anna?”

Anna smiled. “Just fine, Sir. Thank you for asking.”

“And Grant?”

“He’s good. He went to get his bag from the locker room.”

Michael’s smile turned subtly wicked. “In that case, have a lovely time.”

Anna laughed, eyes sparkling with anticipation. “Thanks.”

“Do you mind if I steal your friend away for a moment?” he asked, gesturing to Lola.

“Oh. Um…no. No, of course not.” Anna shot Lola a smile. “I’ll just wait here for Grant.”

Lola nodded, her eyes on Michael. “If he comes back before I do, let him know I’ll entertain myself while you two play.”

“Okay.”

Lola sent her a smile, then turned to Michael. He’d taken a few steps away and was standing with a grey-haired man with warm brown skin dressed in leathers, the leash in his hand attached to the collar of a young white man kneeling at his feet. Aside from the collar, the boy wore only a pair of black vinyl shorts, and his eyes were cast respectfully at the floor.

Lola kept her eyes on the man standing as she approached them. Michael turned. “Lola, this is Richard.”

Lola took the proffered hand. “How do you do?”

“Well, thank you.” Richard didn’t introduce the boy at his feet, and Lola didn’t ask.

“Richard and his boy Jamie have been interested in trying needle play for some time now.”

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