Amused, he nodded at her plate. “You finished eating?”
She glanced down at her plate. Her burger was gone, and she’d eaten all but a few fries. “I guess so.”
“Good.” He pushed back his plate and signaled for the check. “My turn.”
“Your turn for what?”
“You got to pick the batting cage, now we do what I want to do.”
“I don’t remember agreeing to that,” she said, anticipation shining in her eyes.
He sent her a slow smile and watched her eyes dilate. “I didn’t ask.”
CHAPTER NINE
Friday night at the club, Ginger wandered alone.
Michael had gone off to take care of a problem on the third floor, and Anna and Grant had gone off to play. Grant had invited her to observe, his eyes dancing as a gagged and cuffed Anna had squawked in protest. Ginger hadn’t had the heart to tease her, declining with speed, and Grant had grumbled that she would make a terrible Dom.
Duh.
She grinned as she walked through the bar area. She thought it was a very good thing she wasn’t a Dom—if she were, she certainly wouldn’t be with Michael.
And she liked being with Michael.
She settled into a chair in one of the more out of the way conversation areas with a happy sigh. The couple on the sofa next to her were negotiating and paid her no attention, so she was content to sit back and let her mind wander.
It wandered, as it often did these days, to Michael. The day at the batting cages seemed to have marked a turning point in their relationship. Though he hadn’t come clean about the Killingsworth Foundation, he’d been spending more time with her outside of the club. Bringing pizza to her place, taking her out to a Cubs game.
Tying her to the kitchen island and going down on her until she screamed herself hoarse.
He seemed to be on a mission to make her yell.
She smiled as she recalled the night before, and the evil little slapper he’d pulled out of his bag. He’d tied her to the ottoman, put a blindfold over her eyes, and used it on her breasts, her thighs, her ass, and finally, her pussy.
She’d come so hard she’d nearly passed out. And when he’d rammed his dick into her, she’d come again.
Then he decided she hadn’t yelled loud enough and did it all over again.
Really, the man was obsessed—but she wasn’t complaining.
She glanced idly around, hoping he’d be back soon, and spotted Simon heading her way.
“Hello, Ginger.” He leaned down to kiss her cheek, then sat in the chair opposite her. “Where’s Michael?”
She smiled at him. “Something came up on the third floor he had to handle. He left me to wander.”
“Not letting you wander far though, is he?” At her confused look, he pointed at her. “You’re wearing his collar.”
“Oh.” Her fingers came up to trace the soft leather. “Yes.”
“It looks good on you.”
“Thanks.” She dropped her hand and changed the subject. “Where’s Lola?”
“She’s talking with Edward downstairs.” His smile was just a little too knowing for her comfort. “He’s going to be giving her single-tail lessons.”
“Really? That’s cool. Um.” She paused, wondering how to phrase the question that came to mind. “Is she, ah…”