She set a peanut butter sandwich and a glass of water in front of me.
I mumbled, “You made me a sandwich. Sometimes I think you care.”
“Of course I care, you silly man.” She perched on my lap and fed me bites, making sure I drank the water too.
“Mmm, now what do I get for dessert?” I kissed along her shoulder, slowly working my hand up her thigh, under her skirt but over her panties. “Your panties are soaked. Were you thinking about me at your dinner? Or was it your mystery date that got you worked up?” I meant for it to sound teasing, but it came out sounding insecure. Drinking was a bad idea when I was feeling this raw.
Dammit, I wasn’t this guy. I was in knots and couldn’t even find the words to explain the real issue. Maybe I didn’t want to because I was scared of what she’d say.
She snatched my hand away, but held on to it. “You’ve been drinking, so I’ll let that slide precisely once. The jealousy is not a good look. I had dinner with Victoria. I needed to chat with her about my schedule since I go back to work in a week and had some stuff I wanted to discuss with her.”
“I’m sorry,” I said gravely, shaking my head. “I don’t want to be that guy.”
“Then don’t be that guy. Be my guy. The one who got off watching me with someone else a few days ago.”
I groaned and nuzzled her neck, sliding my hand back under her skirt.
She slid off my lap. “Oh no you don’t, Mister. You’re going to bed.”
“Mmm…we can go to bed if you want.”
“No, drunkie. You’re going to bed and sleeping it off. I’m sober and not having sex with you when you’re buzzed.”
“You don’t have sex with me when I’m sober.”
“You know what I mean. Come on.”
Once we were both ready for bed, we climbed under the covers, finding each other in the dark.
I said, “I only met Victoria once. Is she as terrifying as she seems?”
“I wouldn’t cross her. But she’s a decent person and she looks out for us at work.”
“Here’s another thing I’ve been wondering,” I mumbled. “Why do men as wealthy and powerful as your clients settle for the no-sex rules? Surely, they want everything you provideandto have their dicks sucked.”
“Some of them do. Some are relieved those things are off the table because they can get the other stuff they want without that pressure. Some have arrangements with their wives that allow for dungeon rules but not anything goes. I’m sure some of them also work with private dommes who let them do more. And that’s fine. We just can’t operate a business that way in California. The trade-off is that with us, you know it’s secure, that you’ll get the highest level of service, and your privacy is guaranteed. Had the VP conducted his session in the dungeon, he wouldn’t be in the mess he’s in now. With a private domme, you might get laid, but who knows about the rest of it.”
“Have you dated any other clients in real life?”
A teasing smile tugged at her mouth. “Are we dating in real life, Mr. Chase? I thought this was a contract relationship…”
Dammit. I’d broken our unspoken rule and acknowledged out loud that there was something more happening between us. “I’m too tipsy to bullshit, smartass. We’re pretending to fake date. Or fake pretending to date or…something.”
She looked like she was smothering a laugh, but there was tenderness in her expression. “No, I’ve never pretended to fake date or any other kind of dated any clients. Coworkers, yes. It’s an incestuous business.”
“I know how that goes.”
“Have you ever fallen for a costar?” she asked.
Fuck it. I needed to tell her before it was too late. “No. But I’ve fallen for you.”
She froze.
“Don’t say anything back. Not now. I don’t want you blaming any of it on me being drunk. But we’re going to talk about it.”
She laid her head on my chest and ran her fingers through my hair.
Did she pity me? Was I just one more pathetic schmuck who’d lost his mind over her? Joshua Tree felt like something real, but now she’d shifted her focus to what came next, back to work and her clients. Maybe it was real, but it wasn’t enough for her.
