Page 58 of What About Love

Third, he wasn’t looking forward to another night of watching a stranger put his hands on her. His fingers moved to check the bright-orange armband he wore around his biceps. Eric had slid him into the schedule, but he was an extra man on the floor, meaning, he wouldn’t have to divide his attention between monitoring the scenes and Angie. And, since the members and guests would know not to disturb him unless necessary, it would decrease distractions from chatty members and kneeling subs.

He added a fourth reason to his list as soon as he spotted her across the room, looking as stunning as ever. He wanted her, more so since the kiss they shared in the stairwell that morning. But wanting and having were two different things. He needed to stop giving her mixed messages like she’d accused him of, too.

Gazing at her across the already crowded play space, he noticed how she stood out like a glittering star in a black sky. She wore a clingy dress of cream-colored satin. It hugged her curves, though not blatantly so, and was short, coming only to mid-thigh, showing off much of her long shapely legs. Her shoulders were bare except for thin straps holding the shimmering sheath in place. Delicate black lace edged the scooped neck, which drew the eye to the hint of cleavage on display. Enough to be noticed, yet still left something to the imagination.

It was exactly how he would have dressed her if she were his. Not in ubiquitous black leather or anything gaudy like the PVC skirt or purple bustier Dan had picked out. Angie was beauty and subtle elegance, and he would keep it that way.

“Damn. Your sweet little newbie is hot as fuck, T. You sure you don’t want a go at her?”

He grunted noncommittally at Samson who had come up behind him.

“Just sayin’, man. A woman that fine is going to be scooped up fast. It’s not often we get in a prime piece like her who’s unattached.”

Bristling, he snarled over his shoulder. “She’s not a piece, Sam.”

“No offense meant, bro,” he replied, a little snarly himself. “You’re awfully touchy about a woman you claim is a friend. If she’s more, decide in a hurry because the vultures are already circling.”

*****

HER SATIN CHEMISE SLIPPEDlower, the neckline held up only by her nipple. A deep breath and it would be history. When the lash fell once more, it slipped free, whooshing down her body to puddle at her feet. Her dom for the scene wasted no time sending the tails of his flogger zipping sharply across her newly bared ass cheeks.

Heat, like a flash fire, ignited along her skin. Her body jerked hard, swaying in the wrist cuffs linked to the chains above her head. The subsequent clank and rattle were what she expected to hear in a torture chamber. Her mouth opened, struggling to speak in her breathless state. This was nothing like the sensual flogging T had given her.

What had she been thinking? She should have listened to Val. But it was getting late, nearing eleven o’clock.

Eric had been called away to deal with an internal club problem, and she was wasting valuable time hanging with Val and a few of her friends waiting for his return. What’s more, their booth was in a dimly lit back corner. She wouldn’t attract any attention there.

“Eric asked that you wait for him,” Valerie had reminded her when she slid off the bench seat.

“I’m only going to mingle and watch a few scenes. Seen and be seen, as the saying goes.”

She glanced behind her for signs of Eric. Taller than most, his blond head would be easy to locate, but like every time they’d searched the crowded room for the past hour, it was nowhere to be found.

“He should be back soon,” she assured her. “You really should wait.”

“It’s okay, Val. I’ll stick to the doms you pointed out. I swear.”

“Angie—”

Like a fool, she’d ignored her warning and walked away.

The lash landed again. This time, the blow was different. Heavier, more penetrating, with bone-jarring intensity. It was too much.

“Yellow!” Her cry came a split second too late as the thongs once again exploded in a blaze of fiery pain across her lower cheeks. To make it worse, the tips wrapped around her body and bit painfully into her hip and thigh.

Unable to hold back, she cried out again. “Yellow,” then, wrongly, “Please, stop!”

“Safeword, motherfucker. Twice. Are you deaf?” T’s voice, sharp with anger, cut through the haze of her pain.

“I was too far into the stroke to pull it back. I tried. That’s why it wrapped her hip.”

“She’s had enough.”

“But I’ve barely warmed her up.”

“I wear the badge. It’s my decision. You didn’t honor her safeword. This scene is over.”

“I’ll talk to her.”

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