Page 53 of Going Deep
“I’m the newbie, here,” Ginger protested.
“To BDSM,” Anna said. “Not life. Get me a bowl.”
Annoyed, and more than a little insulted, Ginger slid off the stool and stomped around the counter. “I thought I was supposed to let him take charge. You know, because he’s the Dom.”
“You’re not supposed to be a doormat.” Anna shook her head at the bowl Ginger held out. “Bigger.”
“I’m not a doormat,” Ginger said and slapped a new bowl on the counter. “That’s the biggest one I’ve got.”
“It’ll do,” Anna decided. “Watch out, this is hot.”
“Do you want to know how he wants it?” Lola asked while Anna poured the popped corn into the bowl.
“I really haven’t thought much about it.” Ginger caught the skeptical look in Lola’s eyes, and Anna’s not so quiet snort. “I know how that sounds, but I really haven’t. I’m trying to figure out the rest of my life—where I'm going to live, what I'm going to do for work—and this thing with Michael has been a distraction from that. A nice one.”
“Okay, I can see that,” Lola allowed.
“Doing the ‘where is this all going?’ dance just hasn’t been on my radar,” Ginger continued, and considered it mostly truth.
“I’ll buy that,” Anna agreed. She crossed to the fridge and came back with a stick of butter. “But I’m kind of surprised Michael hasn’t had a talk about expectations with you. According to Grant, he usually does, especially with new submissives.”
Ginger blinked. “Really?”
Anna peeled the butter, dropped it in a bowl, and popped it in the microwave. “It’s pretty common for new submissives to fall in love with the first Dom they play with.”
Ginger grinned suddenly. “What, they imprint on him like a baby bird?”
“It’s more like they fall in love with the kink, and think they’re in love with the Dom,” Lola explained.
“Oh.” Ginger mulled that over. “That makes sense, I guess.”
“He hasn’t brought that up?”
Ginger shook her head. “No.”
“Huh,” Anna said and turned to the beeping microwave.
“What does ‘huh’ mean?” Ginger wanted to know.
Anna spooned melted butter over the corn. “It means huh.”
Ginger turned to Lola. “Translate, please.”
“Hmm,” Lola said, her eyes narrowed on Anna. “This is just a guess, but I think it means, ‘it’s very interesting that Michael is deviating from his usual script in this situation, and I plan to interrogate my husband as to the implications and possible meanings of this deviation, and will report back on same at the earliest possible opportunity’.”
Anna tapped a finger on her nose, then pointed it at Lola. “Boom.”
Lola preened. “I speak Anna fluently.”
Ginger just shook her head. “You’re so weird.”
“Her or me?” Lola wanted to know.
“Both of you.”
“We love you, too,” Anna said and, dashing salt over the popcorn, picked up the bowl. “Somebody grab the wine. I want to watch KPop Demon Hunters.”
Lola snagged the bottle off the counter and followed Anna into the living room. “What the hell is KPop Demon Hunters?”
