Page 91 of Going Deep
Anna nodded. “That.”
“The hypocrisy,” Ginger said immediately, her face heating as rage surged. “That he had the nerve, the goddamn gall, to tell me he couldn’t be with me because I’m not honest, when the whole fucking time?—”
“Okay, take a breath,” Lola urged, laying a calming hand on Ginger’s knee. “Your face looks like a tomato.”
Ginger obeyed, sucking in air and blowing it out like she was in active labor, not stopping until she felt the heat recede from her face. “Sorry.”
“It’s okay.” Lola patted her knee. “I’d be pissed, too.”
“So would I,” Anna said, looking thoughtful.
“What?” Ginger asked.
“I don’t want to ask,” Anna admitted. “Tomato Face Ginger was kind of scary.”
Ginger worked up a smile. “You can ask. Tomato Face has left the building.”
“Okay, well, I was just wondering if you were mad that he called the scene.”
“No. I mean, it surprised me, and it kind of scared me, because he was really acting strange.” Ginger frowned, remembering. “But if he needed to stop, then he needed to stop. Doms are allowed to safeword too, right?”
Lola nodded. “Absolutely.”
“I wanted to support him in that however I could, but it didn’t seem like he was ready to talk about it, so I was giving him some space.” She scowled. “Then he started in with the ‘we shouldn’t see each other anymore’ bullshit.”
“Easy, Tomato Face,” Lola murmured.
Ginger took another deep breath. “I’m fine.”
“That’s weird,” Anna said. “Have you ever had a Dom stop on you mid-scene?”
“No,” Lola admitted. “But it happens.”
“Yeah, sure. I just wonder what happened. Has he said anything to Simon?”
“If he has, Simon’s not saying.”
“Grant either. I know they’ve talked,” Anna said, sipping her wine thoughtfully. “But he’s not sharing with me. Doms before dociles.”
Lola blinked. “Huh?”
“It was a synonym for submissive in the thesaurus,” Anna explained.
“Yeah, that doesn’t work,” Lola told her.
Anna wrinkled her nose. “I know. It also had ‘dutiful’, ‘decorous’ and ‘disciplinable’, but none of those worked, either.”
“I think you’re going to have to let this go, sweetie.”
Anna’s mouth took on a mulish line. “There’s a word out there, I just have to find it.”
“Maybe you’re looking in the wrong place,” Ginger suggested, happy to set her anger aside for amusement. “Maybe you should be looking for a new word for Dom.”
“Did you have to do that?” Lola complained as Anna set aside her wine and began quick-thumbing her phone.
“Yes,” Ginger said. “I’m really mad, and when that wears off I’m going to be really sad, and I need joyful things.”
“Fine. At what point in the mad/sad cycle do you plan to acknowledge your responsibility in this mess?”
