Page 6 of Whatever Lola Wants

“Like what?”

“I like restraints, impact play. Sensual pain.”

“As a top or as a bottom?”

Lola’s smile was wicked. “Both.”

“You know, I’ve been to the club a lot in the last several months, and I don’t think I’ve ever met another switch there.”

“Well, that’s another thing. BDSM clubs can be pretty segregated into subs and Doms. Switches can throw off the balance, make people uncomfortable.”

“I’d say that kind of thing wouldn’t fly at Odyssey, but the truth is I don’t really know.” Anna looked up, her gaze thoughtful. “You should talk to Michael.”

“I plan to.”

“For what it’s worth, I hope you join. I’d love to have my best friend to hang out with there.”

Lola let her lips curl into a smirk. “Even though I might see you having sex?”

Anna cleared her throat and started chopping again.

“You put her on her ass.”

Simon sipped his beer and watched Henry shuffle over to the edge of the patio to sniff at the grass. “Shut up. It was an accident.”

Grant chuckled and strode to the grill built in to the outdoor kitchen on his back deck. “How does that happen?”

“I was looking up at the house numbers and didn’t see her.”

The grill lid slipped out of Grant’s hand, slamming shut with a bang as he stared at his friend. “You see everything.”

“Yeah, well. I didn’t see her.” Simon sipped his beer again, hoping it would wet his dry throat. “She’s so fucking little. Five-foot nothing and maybe a buck ten soaking wet.”

Grant grabbed the lid again. “Probably a bit more than that. I get the impression there’s a lot of muscle in that tiny package.”

Simon frowned at his beer. The arms he’d grasped to help her to her feet had been firm, toned. And soft. He loved soft skin on a woman, and hers had felt like silk. Dammit. To distract himself, he turned his attention to where Grant was fiddling with the dials on the grill. “Are you sure you know what you’re doing with that thing?”

Grant shot him a scowl. “I’ve got it.”

“I was just asking.”

Grant gave a grunt, and apparently satisfied with his fiddling, flipped a switch and closed the lid. “It’s got to warm up,” he said and gestured to the chairs grouped around the portable fire pit nearby. “Have a seat.”

Simon settled into a fat, cushioned chair. “You seem happy, Grant. Content.”

Grant propped his bare feet on the edge of the empty fire pit and scratched his dog behind the ears. “Weirdly enough, I am. I never thought I’d be here.”

“Here?”

Grant gestured with his beer. “Here. House with a yard, woman cooking dinner. Domestic bliss.”

“It looks good on you.”

“It feels good. Of course, it helps that the house has a basement I can turn into a play space, and that the woman a is sassy, mouthy submissive who likes pain.”

Simon laughed. “Truer words.”

“I haven’t seen you at the club much lately.”

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