Page 33 of Second Go-Round

“Yes and no.” In the short time I’d known Cooney, I’d recognized him for the reserved, quiet type he was.

“That’s all you’re giving me?” I pushed, grinning.

“Yep.”

Chuckling, I grabbed a couple of beers out of the fridge and handed him one. We both popped the lids, clinked our bottles together, and took healthy pulls. Smooth, hop-infused coldness slid down my throat, and I made a noise of appreciation.

Rather than pushing, I strode into the living room where Micah and Sean had sprawled on my sectional facing the wide-screen TV anchored into the wall above my gas fireplace.

“How was your date last night?” Micah asked as I settled into my usual seat, a recliner angled on the couch’s opposite end from him.

“Hot as fuck. She’s also the type of woman I would give up my second job for.” I bit my tongue, not having meant to state the truth that had slammed into my brain within moments of catching sight of the fiery redheaded temptress.

“No fucking way, Zimmerman,” Micah shot at me, his brow denting into a scowl. “It’s bad enough Sullivan bailed on me after meeting Jessie. I still haven’t replaced the other half of your tall, dark, and handsome duo.”

While Micah had often joined up with me to fulfill client threesome wishes, we were polar opposites. He was a golden boy with blond hair and a shade darker close-clipped beard, impeccably groomed along his jaw like Cooney’s.

“Just said she was that type,” I grumbled. “Didn’t say I had any plans of quitting on you.”

Cooney and Micah shared a look as the bigger man dropped onto the cushion closest to me.

“What?” I asked, bottle halfway to my lips, my gaze jumping between the two.

“You’re fucked, that’s what,” Cooney stated as though sure of that fact.

“Don’t even fucking say that.” Micah glowered at him. “And”—he turned his attention on me— “don’t you even fucking think that.”

I shook my head and tried to focus on the coin toss happening on TV. “I’m not thinking that.” Liar. I chugged my beer.

Sean snorted. “Definitely fucked.”

I had left Christine’s a few minutes after taking her ass over the island in her kitchen. Exactly like the first time against her front door, she’d walked away with a sway to her backside as though unfazed by the fact my cock had been buried deep inside of it a minute earlier.

She’d come across as though unmoved by our rough exchange. Impersonal exactly like she’d claimed to want—like I’d silently promised. And fuck that goddamn hammer that had slammed me in the chest again as our gazes had met across the kitchen. Her breath had caught, but she’d quietly thanked me for the evening and told me to leave.

Literally ordered me to get out.

Coldhearted bitch…she lit unquenchable fires inside me. I pinched the bridge of my nose and closed my eyes, missing the kickoff.

“That’s right, Davis,” Cooney’s voice rose, showing a hint of passion. “Stiff arm that fucker.”

“Goddamn, what a return,” Micah said a second later, which lifted my head off the couch.

The punt return team exited the field, but my mind refused to acknowledge the beginning of the game. Was the memory of Christine going to haunt me all fucking day long?

“Didn’t you have a new client Thursday?” I asked Micah, desperate to turn my mind off of Christine.

“I got to wield my favorite cane.”

Like Cooney, Micah got off on different forms of kink too. He’d only recently taken on clients of his own after Sean had pushed him to expand Elite’s services. Sean had wanted a gay branch, but Micah went the route he understood and enjoyed. Cooney bound the women, and Micah gave them the pain they desired with their pleasure.

“Did she like it?” I asked, fighting off a cringe at the thought of getting whacked with a goddamn cane. I’d heard they hurt like hell.

“Dirty little girl couldn’t get enough.” Micah adjusted himself, grimacing a bit. “She came four times before I even took her virgin ass. She wanted it deep and hard—and that’s exactly what she got. All at once.”

Cooney stared Micah down—glared, actually. “She’s not going to file a complaint, is she?”

Micah rolled his eyes. “For fuck’s sake, Cooney, what do you think I am? A monster? She had a safe word—lollipops of all things. I checked in with her countless times, and yes, she’d begged me to wreck her. Seeing as how she’d paid for my Dom experience, I gave her what she’d wanted.”

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