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Say what? “You have got to be kidding me. What the fuck is this, Ryan?” I wave my hand back and forth between him and the woman on the floor.
“Ask her to leave if you don’t want her here, although I’d very much prefer if she stayed,” his voice is thick with arousal.
My mouth opens, and a million questions pop into my mind. “As what? A spectator? A chaperone?”
The corner of his mouth lifts in a playful smirk. “It’s really not a big deal, Stella. I won’t touch her if you don’t want me to.”
If anything, that sounds even more annoying. “How very charitable of you,” I spit. I can’t believe this guy.
Ryan is silent for a beat, a muscle ticking in his jaw. Then his tone hardens. “Alright. He addresses the woman. “Cathy, you may leave.” Cathy nods quickly, but sends Ryan a look I can only interpret as utter longing, then she scrambles to her feet to do his bidding. I ball my hands into fists as the reality of what is happening dawns on me.
So Ryan is a dom. The woman is a sub. And what the fuck does that make me?
The village idiot? The snarky voice in my head suggests, and unfortunately, I have to agree with her.
“Hey,” I say to the woman. She turns but doesn’t look at me. She’s a good few inches taller than me yet adopts a subservient role for me.
A general sub? Is that even a thing? Okay, I’ve seen enough. I need to get the hell out of here.
“I think you’d better stay and…continue whatever it is you two had going before I interrupted.” I cock my head in Ryan’s direction.
Cathy looks conflicted, her gaze flitting toward Ryan and back to me. She badly wants to stay. Good, which is why I should let them carry on their party.
“This was a mistake.” I spin on my heels. “Excuse me.”
“Stella.”
I stop. There’s a wealth of need, of authority in that one word that makes my nipples bead beneath the tape I wore to keep them invisible under the gauzy material. I want nothing more than to turn and crawl to Ryan.
The thought alone is enough to shake me out of my sensual haze and I bolt out of the room and toward the bank of elevators like the horde of hell is at my heels.
It’s not until the doors close in on me before I finally allow myself to release the huge breath I hadn’t realized I was holding in.
My heart is still pounding, my face aflame. And I’m supposed to return to the party and act like nothing happened?
I pass by a small seating area facing a window and wearily drop into one of the modular chairs to gather my wits.
That man is such a jerk. Could he not have asked about my preferences instead of shocking me like that?
But if I’m being honest, the most confusing part was how badly I wanted to stay and do whatever he wanted.
I wasn’t interested in a threesome. I wanted the man all to myself. But if that was what Ryan needed from me, watching as he sat back on that opulent couch like a king, watching his erection thicken in his tan pants the moment I stepped into the room, I was willing to give him that moment.
I’m so glad shame and common sense won out. It’s just as well that the wedding is over. That should bring an end to our tête-à-tête. I don’t ever have to speak to him again. Or see him.
Although something tells me it’s wishful thinking. Because our best friends have just gotten married and are expecting a baby in a few months. I’m the godmother. He’s probably the godfather.
Crap. My life just got a lot more complicated.
Chapter Three
Ryan
Five Months Later
I stare at the amber liquid in the tumbler in my hand, refusing to process what the eagle-eyed man opposite me is saying. “McGrath, you’re telling me you spent weeks poring over these policies, and all you could come up with is the reason I needed a loophole in the first place?”
“Unfortunately, Mr Fairchild, your company policies are airtight. There’s no getting around it, not if you want to retain controlling shares of Ocean Gate in the coming months. You need to get married.”
