Page 46 of What About Love

She relaxed, comforted further by Eric’s squeeze of reassurance, before he released her. Not so for T, who went nitro again, tossed back the rest of his drink—his last with the two-maximum limit if a member wanted to play—then slammed his empty shot glass on the bar top. He rose and said in a growl to Eric, “I’ll be waiting in administration for us to finish our meet.”

He then stomped away.

“Everyone’s seriously pissy. What’s that about? Full moon? PMS?” Samson grumbled, apparently not expecting an answer because he turned to leave, too.

Eric issued a quiet reminder though. “Four missing women will do that, my friend.”

Samson stopped dead in his tracks, drawling, “I’ll be damned if it don’t.”

With a sigh heavy enough to part her hair, Master Eric helped her from her stool and led her back to the conference room and, as Samson had so charmingly put it, a seriously pissy Lil T.

***

“I’LL PICK HER PLAYpartners.”

“The hell you will. I’m her handler on this mission.”

“When you’re, you usually play. If you suddenly turn into a matchmaker and start grilling potential doms, people will notice. You’ll risk blowing her cover. Whereas I can be her mentor. With Val on my arm, we can vet an easy, friendly dom for her tonight. If they don’t hit it off, or he doesn’t do it for her, she comes back tomorrow and we’ll give it another go.”

“I don’t think a scene with a friendly dom will draw his attention,” Angie cut in softly.

“Brat it up,” Eric advised. “You’ll get a spanking, but I’ll find you a dom who won’t be severe, no matter your sass. Be loud though. And lose your top. The other four were exhibitionists, remember?”

“Yeah, I remember.”

T could tell by her expression she more than remembered it. She dreaded it.

“What about the carousel? It’s a few days until Saturday, which gives the bastard a few more days to torment the victims, or worse. Maybe I should break a few rules right off the bat and secure my spot.”

“No. We’ve already ruled that out,” T barked. To Eric, he clarified, “She isn’t going there. Think of another way.”

Eric’s phone buzzed. Glancing down at the screen, his brows gathered a little. “LAPD, I better take this.”

When he left the room, Angie turned to T, her hand clutching his forearm. “The clock is winding down for these women, T. They don’t have weeks for me to play nice in hopes I’ll get his attention. I don’t like the thought of riding the carousel, either, especially with a stranger—”

Her voice broke, and she halted. With her head bowed, her hair falling forward to conceal her features, he couldn’t see her expression, but he could feel her nails digging into his skin. He looked down at where her pale hand gripped his tanned arm. It was trembling.

Angie might show the world a brave, tough exterior, but this was too much for her.

“You’re not doing it.”

“I have to.”

“You don’t, and you’re not,” he insisted.

“I could if it was with...you.”

His head fell back, and he stared up at the ceiling. What she was suggesting might just be too much for him.

He dipped his head, trying to see her face and determine if she was serious, but all he could see was the top of her head. Reaching for her jaw, he tipped up her face, finding her eyes tightly closed.

“Look at me, darlin’.”

Troubled hazel eyes met his.

“You’re not riding with me or anyone.”

“Four women’s lives are on the line. He might have another lined up already. This is a small price to pay to save them. Besides, I owe you one.”