“Let’s sit there.” Chris headed for the table near the end wall.
Both men sat, and Scott broke the silence. “What happened?”
“I don’t know, but I wasn’t into it,” Chris answered. “Maybe submitting isn’t for me after all?”
“Let’s not jump to conclusions. Submitting tomemight not be your thing, but you liked it with Kate.”
Chris scrubbed the back of his head. “Yes, I did.”
“So, what was different?”
Chris shrugged. “You’re not Kate.”
Scott laughed out loud, and Chris grinned.
Stating the obvious, always one of my strong suits!
“I wasn’t having fun, and I wasn’t aroused. I just wasn’t into it,” Chris said.
Scott nodded. “Did you trust me?”
Chris didn’t hesitate. “Yes, I did.”
“So, apparently, you need more than trust to submit,” Scott stated. “Could it be you need to be sexually involved to enjoy it?”
Chris made a thoughtful sound and rubbed his chin, his fingers rasping over his beard stubble. He’d forgotten to shave before coming to the club. “Could be. I guess I need to think things through some more. Thanks for the scene and the talk. I appreciate the help, although I think I have more questions than answers. Is that the way therapy works?”
“Frequently.” Scott picked invisible lint from his sleeve. “If I’ve helped you think about your issues in new ways, then this has been worthwhile.”
Both men fell silent. In the back of his mind Chris realized Scott was content to let him ponder. With no need for small talk, Chris let his thoughts wander to Kate and what it had been like to submit to her. Meanwhile, club life continued around them, the music switching from a pounding techno beat to the seductive sounds of Enigma. He barely noticed when Scott went to get them another beer or how Mitch took one of the newer Doms through the paces of some intricate bondage.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
PRESENT DAY
Yvonne stood in the elevator at the Kansas City Police Department headquarters building. It seemed like her insides were vibrating, and her stomach was in knots.How can I be anxious and exhilarated at the same time?
She stole a glance at Suzie and the gorgeous wedding cake they had made and mentally went back three days prior.
“Yvonne, I have Suzie Carmichael on the phone for you.” Tante Wilma held out the portable phone.
Yvonne rubbed her hands dry on the top of her blue jeans. “Hi, Suzie. How much do I owe you for the dishes?”
“What?” Suzie’s voice rose at the end of the word. “No. We told you we didn’t expect you to pay for those. Broken dishes are part of running a restaurant.”
Yes, she’d said so after the party, and when Yvonne had tried to refuse the pay, she’d insisted she take it.
“Hmm, okay. So, why are you calling, then?”
“Friends of ours are having an impromptu wedding. Sonja and I are giving them a big wedding cake, but we’re short-staffed again. Could you help?”
“Umm, probably I can. I need to check with Tante Wilma. What do you need done and when do you need me?”
It turned out Suzie needed help with making and delivering the cake. Yvonne enjoyed the preparations, but what had been the icing on the cake hadn’t been icing at all—but the top decoration.
When Suzie had produced them, Yvonne had sucked in a breath. “Cuffs?” Yvonne blurted.
Suzie’s face colored red. “Yes, Paula and Jackson are—umm, they’re police detectives.”
