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So why was she thinking of Griffin now?
“I’m sorry. How long was I out of it?” she asked.
Arms around her shoulders, Griffin cradled her tighter against his muscled chest and smiled down at her. “About a half hour. Close your eyes and rest. I’m in no rush.”
Kenna pressed her fingers to her mouth as her thoughts churned and realization finally set in. That memory of Griffin taking care of her had come after a particularly intense scene that had left Kenna flying so high she’d all but lost consciousness. Subspace, they called it, and with Griffin, she’d achieved it quite a lot. Nothing got her out of her head or sent endorphins racing like it.
“Oh, God,” she whispered out loud. An idea took route that threatened to shake up her whole world—for better or worse, she didn’t know. “Would it work now?”
That was only the first of the questions that came to mind. Would it work? Could she still engage in the bondage she’d once loved with an amputated arm? Was Blasphemy even still open? She’d met Griffin when the exclusive BDSM club had first opened six years ago. They’d frequently done scenes together for just over a year before she’d gone and gotten feelings for him that he didn’t return. And if Blasphemy was still open, was Griffin himself still there? Was he still unattached? Could she even begin to think about playing with him again, after everything that’d happened in the five years since she’d left Baltimore? Would she be up to finding a new Dom instead?
“Oh, God,” she said again, shaking her head at this madness.
“What the hell am I even thinking?” But as she settled back in bed, she had to admit that during the minutes she’d spent thinking about Griffin, she’d almost forgotten about everything else.
CHAPTER TWO
Master Griffin arrived early for his evening shift at Blasphemy feeling restless, though he didn’t know why.
Actually, that wasn’t true.
Tonight, he was scheduled to work the registration desk for the first two hours and then he had a bondage demonstration with Tara, a submissive with whom he’d occasionally played over the years. She loved Shibari, the Japanese form of rope bondage in which Griffin specialized, so she enjoyed doing scenes with him, but what she wanted was a 24/7 Master/slave relationship. Since that wasn’t his thing, they weren’t ever going to be more than just friends.
And Griffin wanted someone for more than just friends, just scenes, just sex. Badly.
He’d had a chance at that once and he’d screwed it up. Big time. He hadn’t seen what he’d had right in front of him then, but he’d sure as shit had seen it a million times since then, after it was too late to grab the incredible opportunity—the incredible woman—he’d let slip through his grasp.
Griffin made his way through the basement security and reception rooms to the main part of the club. Blasphemy was located in a big, formerly abandoned church that he and his eleven partners had purchased and rehabbed. The main part of the floor was situated in the long, rectangular nave, which still retained much of its original beauty and elegance, with massive stained-glass windows above, thick marble columns, a vaulted ceiling, and the remains of old frescos on the walls. Groupings of leather couches and chairs sat here and there, interspersed with dungeon furniture, some of which he’d built with his own hands, and other play areas. Griffin could still picture what it had looked like when they’d first visited the site—the floor littered with debris and trash, some of the beautiful stained glass shattered, the old pews overturned and broken, and a flock of pigeons claiming the space for their own.
Griffin crossed the big space to the large circular bar made of marble and iron in the center of the floor, where he found Master Quinton already setting up. “Hey,” Griffin said, sliding onto a bar stool.
“G, how the hell are you?” Master Quinton asked, extending his hand.
They clasped palms and Griffin nodded. “Can’t complain. You?”
With light brown hair and eyes, Quinton always wore a mischievous expression that appeared to be a moment away from breaking into a big smile or laughter. Right on cue, the man grinned. “I learned earlier today that I’m a new uncle, so I’m doing fucking awesome.”
