Page 24 of What About Love

Having taken time to consider things—as Cap pointed out, there were few other options—he realized he was better suited for this mission than Dan in many ways.

First, as Angie had keyed in on, being an owner gave him an inside edge. He had complete access to membership files, personnel records, and the facilities. Not true for Dan.

Second, sending an operative in undercover was always dangerous, with a new one the risk increased. Although Dan was an excellent field man, he was closing in on forty. A decade younger, with added size, T had the advantage and was better able to keep her safe.

Third, she was submissive. He knew it, Cap knew it, and if he wasn’t blind, Dan knew it, too. Angie was the only one who hadn’t clued in to the fact. As a dom, he felt strongly that she needed to. Although long-term with him couldn’t happen, he wanted her, and he wanted to be the one who introduced her to the beauty of surrender. He suspected keeping it bottled up was the reason a woman like her, strong and independent in her professional life, but needing something different in her personal life, beyond commitment, love, home, and family, had never settled down. She needed someone who understood both sides of her, but she was looking for it with the wrong men and the wrong flavor.

Vanilla was always going to leave her wanting.

And finally, if this was his chance to have her, no matter how limited, he’d take it and hopefully purge the hazel-eyed beauty from his system. Knowing that she loved him, he’d have to be careful with her tender heart. Maybe the best way to do that was to prove to her he wasn’t the one that she wanted after all.

Dex had faxed over her limit list, which he had perused briefly ahead of their meeting this morning. It was a beginner’s list. She’d checked off interest in exploring typical BDSM activities like restraints, blindfolds, spanking, mild impact implements, and other toys. Sex with penetration, he’d noted straightaway, was off-limits. She hadn’t ruled out touching with fingers, lips, and tongue. That left a world of options for him to teach and explore.

Prior to moving on, however, there were a few points he needed to clarify. He closed the locker and turned with her gear in hand. Best to take care of it right away.

“Cap’s right. We’ve got to learn to trust each other, and we have to do it quickly. As soon as you step foot inside that club, you become a target. Wearing a corset and garters, you won’t have your Glock at the ready. That’s where I come in. I’ve got your back, but to keep you safe, you’ll need to do exactly as I say. Your job is to listen, observe, and lure in this motherfucker while me, Eric, and the rest of the LA team lower the boom, got it?”

“Yeah. I got it. It was the same with Dan.”

He could tell she didn’t like it. She’d like his next point, even less.

“Tell me something, Angie, are there any boyfriends who’ll be gunning for me if they find my handprint on your ass?”

“No, I’m single. For some odd reason, men get intimidated by a woman with handcuffs.”

Laughter rumbled up from his throat. “Not in my world.”

“And since you mentioned it, I have a similar reaction to handprints.”

T ignored that for the time being. She didn’t have a snowball’s chance of convincing the LA bunch she was a willing sub if she didn’t have a dom’s hands all over her round cheeks and full breasts, both of which she had put on display in her club wear the past two nights. The perp would have to be blind not to notice her. An unpleasant thought popped into his head.

“What about Dan? You two seemed pretty tight last night. Now that I’m clued in on the mission, is there anything going on between the two of you I should know about? Outside of work?” As he spoke, he crossed to her, approaching slowly as he would a skittish deer, but steadily closing the gap between them. She stiffened, although he noted she didn’t retreat as he came to stand within arm’s length.

“Dan was my trainer, nothing more, the same as you will be.”

As set downs went, that should have put him in his place. It didn’t. He pressed her further.

“Does he know that?”

“Yes. He acted like a professional, always.”

“That’s a tall order while spanking your bare ass on a bench?”

He suppressed a smile when a pretty pink blush rose in her cheeks. “He selected your club wear, didn’t he?”

“I, uh...yes. How did you know?”

“I recognize his taste. He chose it to entice and, I’m thinking, for his enjoyment. He has a thing for color and PVC. Beyond that, there is one surefire way to tell if Dano had more on his mind than training.” His voice pitched lower as he stepped closer, invading her space. “Tell me, darlin’, did he get you off? That’s the real kicker.”

“Please don’t make this anymore awkward than it already is.”

Admittedly, he was jealous—an ugly and unfamiliar emotion. With her, it burned deep because he couldn’t get the image of her with Dan out of his head. T realized he was acting surly and like a colossal ass. Taking this out on her was unfair.

On the other hand, if he could keep up the surly, asshole act, by the end of the mission, it would help his cause and hopefully keep her heart from becoming further engaged. Still, being a prick wouldn’t inspire the trust he needed from her, and he didn’t want her to hate him in the end. They had to work together at Rossi, for Christ’s sake.

Damn, which tack to take?

As he considered her newness to her job and BDSM, his protective instincts took priority. Honesty would have to prevail.

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