Page 2 of Ctrl Me
“There’s a case with darts in the glove box,” Gabe said. “Grab that will you?”
“I’m pretty horrible at darts.” I opened the compartment and my breath caught. Besides the normal stuff—car manual, paperwork, spare sunglasses—there was a neatly coiled bundle of light-blue rope. I moved it to grab the darts, and stroked my hand against the soft, sensual fibers.
I loved rope. Scarves, cuffs, whatever could be wrapped around my wrists and ankles. Anything to tie me down.
I closed the box and handed Gabe the case.
He smiled as he often did, but this one made my skin tingle. His gaze bound me up until I wanted to blurt out my desires and fears.Why is there rope in your car?
“I’ll teach you.”
Teach me? My breath caught. Darts.Darts. Not the damn rope. “You might find me a hopeless cause.”
A huff of amusement. “It’s all about discipline and control.”
Those words echoed in my skull and went straight to my balls. Did the corner of Gabe’s mouth turn up a bit before he opened his door? “Come on.”
Holy hell, was Gabe flirting with me? Or was this casual guy banter in Pittsburgh? Fuck if I knew. I was glad I hadn’t worn my tight jeans. My dick ached, and I couldn’t wait to get a beer into me. At least then I could blame my swimming head on booze.
Gabe was the last person I should be fantasizing about. We shared a fucking cube at work. That bundle of soft blue rope in the glove box didn’t mean a damn thing. It couldn’t.
I followed Gabe out of the car and into the restaurant. The place had a faux–British pub feel that was a bit too bronzed and sanitized. Top 40 thumped in the air and all kinds of sports flickered on a dozen TVs. I chewed on my tongue and tried not to sigh. A beer was a beer, right? But man, I’d have preferred an honest-to-God bar somewhere, smoke or not. This place was too loud and bright. I curled my hands until my nails bit into my palms.
“Relax.” Gabe’s breath grazed my ear, and he gripped my shoulder. “Trust me.”
Like a lightning rod straight to my submissive side, those words. He probably didn’t even know why, but I relaxed under his touch and nodded. “Okay.”
He slid his hand away as the brunette greeter came back to her podium. “Hey, Gabe! You brought a friend!”
“Hey, Angela. This is Thomas.”
She smiled brightly at me, and I answered with as much of my own smile as I could. “Hi.”
Thomas?Gabe called me Tom in the office. Damned if I didn’t like the way my full name sounded on his lips.
She turned back to Gabe. “Darts?”
“Of course.”
Angela led us past the wall of flat-panel TVs to a smaller room with no screens, less music, more appropriate lighting for a bar, and three two-seater tables. Two of those electronic dart machines too. No one else was sitting in the room.
“Julie will be by to take your order,” Angela said, then left us alone.
Gabe leaned back in his chair. “Better?” He gestured to the small room.
“Yeah. Quieter.” My brain was still stuck onThomas.
Julie came by to get our drink orders. “Gabe! My favorite customer! Your usual?”
Well, Gabe was a popular guy with the women here. That little twang in my chest was not jealousy, not at all. Especially since I wasn’t even on Gabe’s radar.
He nodded. “And a second for Thomas.”
I stared at Gabe. Who had just ordered for me.
“Guinness on tap,” he said, as if that explained it all.
“You going to order my food, too?” I was aiming for annoyed, but it came out, well, breathless. Again.
