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She sucked in a breath, the change in his demeanor and stark authority in his voice almost knocking her off her feet. Everything was happening too fast. Her thoughts and hormones were whirling into a firestorm in her gut, and she couldn’t process any of it.
He frowned. “Answer the question, sub. It’s not that hard. You want Colby or you want me?”
Ha. There was the question of the day. Physically, she wanted Jace so bad her arms strained to bust out of the bindings just so she could touch him. She couldn’t remember ever having a kiss affect her so intensely. But how could she risk being with him even in a casual way? Nothing with Jace had ever been casual for her.r: Roni Loren
The woman was even more enticing close up. Her dark hair spilled forward, shielding her face as she kept her eyes down from Colby’s. She was wearing a simple black bra and panty set—standard issue for an unclaimed sub who didn’t bring her own fetish wear. Jace allowed his gaze to travel down—creamy skin, breasts that looked to be the perfect handful, and legs . . . shit.
“What’s your name, sub?” Colby asked.
“Sasha.”
Andre cringed and leaned toward Jace’s ear. “The no-ménage chick.”
Jace’s mouth had gone dry as he stared at the faint jellyfish scars that striped “Sasha’s” leg. What in the hell was Evan doing here? Then the words from the bio sheet came back to him. Ah, fuck. The engaged chick with the vanilla fiancé.
Evan thought she was a sub?
His burgeoning erection turned into a raging hard-on. God, how he’d love to find out if that was the case. Be the first to draw out the submission if it was really in her. But complicated didn’t even begin to describe getting involved with Evan. Not only was he doing business with her fiancé, but she’d made it clear in South Padre that she wanted nothing to do with him, couldn’t even bear to have lunch with him. And hell if he could blame her.
Plus, even if she had been open to him and ménage, sleeping with her again would be ten kinds of stupid. Especially after how he’d felt when he’d walked away from her the last time. She’d been his first lesson in heartbreak. Even way back then, they’d always had this dangerous vibe between them—one that had scared him shitless. She wasn’t a fuck ’em and forget ’em kind of girl, and he was a cut and run kind of guy.
Colby’s lazy Houston accent snapped Jace from his thoughts. “What makes you think you could be a submissive, sweetheart?”
Evan dipped her head a bit, like she was afraid to answer the question.
“Answer, sub,” Colby said, his accent not hiding the natural authority in his voice. “Now’s not the time to be shy.”
Jace stepped closer and had the urge to tell Colby to back the fuck off even though the guy was doing exactly what he would’ve done in the same situation.
Evan cleared her throat. “I’ve, uh, had fantasies about being dominated.”
Jace nearly groaned aloud. He should’ve been disturbed. At one time he’d seen this girl as a little sister, had promised his parents he would protect her from the dangers of the world and from guys like him. A promise he’d fucked up royally. And there was still a deep protective urge that rose when she was around. A possessive one that had been there from the beginning.
But God, somewhere along the way his view of her had warped into something entirely different. He knew the night she’d come to him at sixteen that his feelings toward her were far from familial. But now that the barrier of the strange situation was lifted all he could see was a beautiful woman there for the taking. A beautiful woman who wanted to be dominated.
Colby glanced up at Jace, noticing him now that he’d stepped next to Evan’s table. “Better move on, J. The lady isn’t looking for what you guys want to dish out.”
Jace’s jaw clenched. “Fuck off, Colby.”
Evan’s head snapped up, her eyes going wide when she saw Jace.
Colby’s brows lifted. “What’s your problem?”
Jace eyed Colby. The guy was his friend, an excellent dom and one of the trainers here. Evan would be in safe hands. But hell if he didn’t want to choke the guy at the thought of him touching her, bending her to his will, drawing out her submission. His fists clenched.
Andre shot Jace a don’t-do-this look. “No, Colby’s right, man. She’s not down with ménage.”
Jace clenched and unclenched his fists, an urge he hadn’t had in as long as he could remember surfacing. The words were out before he could stop them. “Maybe I’ll go solo tonight.”
Andre’s eyebrows rose, but before Jace could respond, Colby was pulling out a collar and laying it on Evan’s table, letting her know that he was offering to take her on. Jace’s hand, as if acting on its own accord, yanked the strip of leather from his own back pocket. He squeezed the collar in his hand, inches away from laying it down and making his first solo claim in two years.
Colby stared at him, waiting to see what Jace’s move was going to be.
Shit. Shit. Shit. Anxiety rose in Jace like a tidal wave, drowning the surge of bravado. What the hell was he doing? He didn’t do jealous or possessive. Not anymore. The fact that he was feeling either was a glaring sign he should back the fuck off. Now.
His good sense screamed for him to bail. To back off. His body and mind warred, but finally, he forced himself to step backward, leaving Evan to Colby, the concession almost physically painful. He had to give her up. Do the smart thing.
But before Jace could take another step back, Evan looked down at his clenched hand and looked . . . disappointed.
