Page 41 of What About Love

“Do I get to swat your ass for missed shots?”

“Think you can handle my ass?”

“Definitely.” Although she was behind him, he could hear the grin in her voice.

“You’re on, then.”

The lights flashed the countdown. Three seconds later, he instinctively reacted. Sixty rounds later, the lights flashed green as the simulation ended. When he turned, he saw Angie staring gape-mouthed at the screen, which flashed expert level and a score of 100 percent.

“You aren’t human,” she breathed.

He laughed, shutting down the computer and stowing the gear.

Reaching out, he hooked her around the neck as he began walking toward the door. “With eight years of training, more practice sessions than I can count, and real-life application, I for damn sure better be able to beat a computer simulation.”

“You really are a guru of the gunnery. I bow to your expertise oh, Maharishi of Munitions.” She gave him a little bow, waving her hand from her forehead with a flourish.

Softly chuckling at her daring after receiving sixty odd swats, he opened the door and with his hand on her backside in gentle warning, guided her through.

They met Cap coming down the stairs from the observation booth. Angie paled, two questions burning in her gut. How long had he been there and how many spanks had he seen?

But he didn’t mention it, all business, when he announced without a greeting, “We’ve had a change in plans. Eric called. A fourth girl is missing. You leave for LA tonight.”

Chapter 9

UNLIKE SAN ANTONIO, with the club in a discreet location on acres of private property without a nosy neighbor in sight, Decadence LA was smack-dab in the middle of downtown. Technically in West Hollywood, on famous Beverly Boulevard, surrounded by everyday stores and run-of-the-mill businesses whose owners and patrons did not know, or simply didn’t care, that an exclusive sex club had set up shop in their backyard.

Once inside, Master Eric, who was Dex’s counterpart here in LA, and his fiancée, Val, greeted them. Petite, with long blonde curls, killer curves, and the same sass, she reminded Angie of a slightly older version of Megan. Okay, maybe not quite the same level of sass, her cousin seeming to have come into her own since finding her dom. Val seemed a bit more discreet.

T had gone immediately to meet with Eric, while Val showed Angie to the third-floor apartment where she’d be staying. It was spacious and tastefully decorated. She was relieved to see there was no BDSM furniture or implements in plain sight, except for the eye bolts drilled into the head and foot boards of the king-size bed. And she wouldn’t have noticed if she hadn’t deliberately looked.

Her luggage had been brought up already and sat in the bedroom alongside T’s duffle.

“Um, Val,” she began, “there’s been a mistake. T and I aren’t a couple.”

“But I thought—” Her expression was one of complete surprise. “Eric told me you were here in the role of his submissive. Surely they wouldn’t expect you to, um...” She paused as her face turned cherry red. “I mean, as part of your job, you wouldn’t... Well, you know, if you two weren’t—” Stopping with a grimace, Val shook her head. “I’m usually more eloquent than this, sorry. I’m just surprised. Are you an experienced submissive, then?”

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