Page 34 of Black Light: The Crossover
“I don’t give a shit about fancy,” Jaxson quipped. “We just need to blow off some steam before I bend one, or both, of my subs over in front of Emma’s parents.”
A louder laugh burst past Lukus’ lips at the visual, but the chuckle lingered as his brain started turning over everything that he needed to do.Talk, dumbass.“Well, I guess it’s a good thing our party is coming up.”
Nailed it.
Tiff’s side-eye was not welcome, but Jaxson’s warm, “Definitely,” told him the other man hadn’t picked up on the chaos on his side of the phone. “Thanks again. I’ll reply to the official email so your admin team doesn’t bitch. We’ll see you guys on New Year’s Eve.”
“Sounds good. See you then.”
He waited until Jaxson hung up before he tossed the phone toward the end of the couch and let go of Tiffany’s mouth. He’d expected her to launch into a lecture, but she just propped her chin up on her hands and tilted her head to look up at him, a tiny, irritating smile tugging up the corners of her mouth.
“What?”
“Nothing,” she replied, voice sing-song sweet, and he brought his hand down on her welted ass with a crispPop!that erased the sarcastic look.
“Wanna try that again?”
Pushing at the couch, she gestured toward his leg. “Can you let me up?”
He let her off his lap without argument because his head was already spinning about the room— No. Not room.Suite.He’d just promised the Cartwright-Davidsons a suite at The Punishment Pit.
“Can I ask a question?” she asked, and before Jaxson’s call he would have pointed out she just had asked one, but instead he just nodded. “Do… we… have a suite? Available, I mean?”
“No.”
“Ah.” Tiffany’s lips popped as she curled up against the other end of the couch, studying him, which was probably why he was suddenly sweating.
Had she turned up the damn heat again?
“So… do you want to talk about it?” she offered, still butt naked and flushed, but not even her gorgeous body could derail the slow spiral his brain was on. “Lukus?”
“Maybe someone will cancel.” There was no fucking chance of that, he already knew that, and he shoved himself off the couch to start pacing as Tiff’s gaze followed him.
“I’m pretty sure we have a waiting list…”
“You’re not helping,” he snapped, pointing at her, but his wife was in problem-solving mode, not submissive-mode now — not that she’d been submissive at all that day.
“You’re the one who covered my mouth while you offered the owners of Black Light a suite that doesn’t exist.”
“I mean, we do have Suite 7 empty.”
“The one that’s under construction?” Tiffany asked, crossing her arms. “The suite that has the old bathroom vanity sitting in the middle of what should be a bedroom?”
“Yes,” he hissed through clenched teeth. “That suite.”
“Oh yeah, I’m sure they won’t notice,” she snarked, shrugging her shoulders as she fought a smile. “Who needs running water at a BDSM club, right?”
“I think you need a ball gag.” Muttering to himself, he aimed for his toy bag that was still lurking near the couch, but Tiff grabbed his arm as soon as he got close.
“Okay, okay, calm down. We can fix this.”
“How!” he shouted, immediately regretting raising his voice, but he knew he’d fucked up and all of Tiff’s little barbs had only made it clear that he’d made a huge fucking mistake. “You’re right, the suite is a fucking mess, we’re about to leave for Michigan to spend three days with your family, and I don’t think it would matter if we were here because the likelihood that I can find a contractor in Chicago willing to work the week between Christmas and New Year’s is crazier than Derek wearing one of Rachel’s diapers.”
“Baby…” Tiffany held out a hand toward him, but he didn’t move. He was trapped in a hell of his own making, and it seemed like the vise around his chest was just getting tighter. “Lukus… I know the holidays can be stressful, but maybe a spanking would help you relax?”
“Excuse me?” he breathed, stumbling over a surprised laugh as he met her gaze again. The little minx was smiling like an angel, even though they both knew she’d just poked the bear, but as much as he wanted to introduce her ass to another paddle he had to admit she’d succeeded in making him laugh.
And if he could laugh, he could admit that spiraling in a panic wasn’t going to help him solve this situation any more than Tiff’s freak out over her holiday cookies.
