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He smiled and stepped forward, cupping the back of my head and planting a kiss on the crown. “And I guess if you want to bring . . . a friend, you can.”
I could tell the offer cost him something. I managed a smirk and ignored the longing ache the suggestion stirred. After this morning, I didn’t know if I’d even speak to Foster again. “Thanks. But uh, it’s not like that.”
Andre closed his eyes briefly and shook his head. “Oh, I wish there was a machine to help you go back in time and un-know things.”
I shoved his shoulder. “Grow up, bro. I have.”
With a God-give-me-strength sigh, he turned and headed for the door. “Try to stay out of trouble, Marcela.”
I gave him my best choir girl smile. “Always.”
—
Foster stretched out on the couch, his head booming and frustration wrapping around him like itchy rope. It was probably a good thing that Pike had gone to sleep in his room, because Foster was spoiling for a fight—an unjustified one—but at this point he didn’t really care about details like that. When Pike had put his arms around Cela this morning, Foster had wanted to slug him. He’d also wanted Cela to push Pike away, to come to him.
But instead of any of that happening, Foster had just stood there like an asshole and let it all happen. Cela had gone off to the shower to do devil knows what with his best friend, and he’d stayed there frozen to the spot. For a breath of a moment, Foster had found himself imagining more with Cela. The way she’d described her experience submitting to him had lit something inside him, had awakened the desire to have her under his hand for longer than a night, to show her what that kind of power exchange could really be like, to bring her submission fully to the surface.
But if he’d had any illusions about her even considering something like that, they’d been annihilated the minute she’d left the room with Pike. Last night had been exactly what she’d said—a good time, a way to lose her virginity, a one-off wild night. The whole reason she’d chosen them was because they were low risk. No feelings. No attachment. She was leaving in a few weeks, and he and Pike had made an offer that fit those requirements perfectly.
And now he was going to have to leave it at that. No way was he messing with that rattlesnake of a situation again. He’d tried once before to woo a girl who wanted a vanilla life. Darcy had been submissive, he’d seen it plain as day when they’d played. But she’d only wanted to explore kink for fun—for kicks. She’d had a preacher’s daughter upbringing and had wanted to rebel.
Of course, Foster hadn’t realized that while he was tumbling into the love abyss like an idiot. Pike had warned him, but he hadn’t wanted to hear it. He and Darcy had dated for a year, and he’d been sure she was the one for him, meant to be his. Fin
ally, someone who would stay in his life. He’d thought the only hurdle would be convincing her that she could have everything she wanted even if she fully embraced the submissive role with him. But it’d all been an illusion created by that lonely, hopeful kid that lurked inside him.
On their one-year anniversary he’d offered Darcy a ring and a collar. She’d offered him a good-bye.
Lesson learned.
Foster pressed his thumbs to his forehead, trying to exorcise both the headache and the bad memories, but a loud banging interrupted the effort. “Fuck. Not right now.”
But the sharp knocking came again, and Foster pushed himself up and off the couch. He rubbed his hands over his face as he made his way to the door, too mentally drained to face what he knew was going to be on the other side.
He swung the door open and stepped aside, letting the imposing force of Andre Medina stride inside. Foster didn’t know Andre personally, had never spoken with him. But he knew of him, knew he was in the tight inner circle of Grant Waters—owner of The Ranch, the BDSM resort Foster belonged to. And Foster had watched Andre scene.
“Sure, come on in,” Foster said dryly.
Andre spun around, arms crossed, pissed-off cop face in place. “Believe me, this won’t take long.”
Foster scrubbed a hand over his stubble. “Guess you figured out where we know each other from.”
The muscle in Andre’s jaw twitched. “The different name threw me, but yes. Ian.”
“Outside of those walls, everyone calls me by my last name.”
Andre didn’t even seem to hear him. “So what’s your game?”
Foster walked around the breakfast bar, heading toward the coffeepot. He didn’t have the energy for this conversation without more caffeine. “I don’t know what you’re asking.”
“Your kink, Foster. Is it going after vanilla girls? Because that’s about the only reason I could see why you’re messing with my baby sister,” he said, anger rippling like a deadly undertow below his calm tone.
Foster scooped coffee into the filter and poured the water in, refusing to snap at the bait Andre was waving. Sparring with Cela’s overprotective brother wasn’t going to get anyone anywhere. And with the foul mood Foster was already in, a fistfight was a distinct possibility if Andre got in his face. Last thing he needed to do was take a swing at a cop. Foster hit the On button to start the coffee then turned around to face his uninvited house guest.
“I’m a dom. But I’m sure you already figured that out. And no, going after vanilla girls isn’t a hobby of mine. Last night wasn’t planned. And what happened should, frankly, be none of your goddamned concern.”
Andre put his hands on the breakfast bar, palms flat, and leaned forward. “Maybe not, but I’m asking you, man-to-man, to stay away from Marcela. She’s leaving soon and doesn’t need any complications in her life. She’s worked hard and has a nice life waiting for her back home. I know how guys like you—like us—can affect a woman who’s innocent to our world. It can be overwhelming and exciting, can make them question what they want. Don’t do that to Cela. Have a fling with someone else.”
Being told what to do by anyone raised Foster’s hackles, but he couldn’t deny the truth in Andre’s words. Even if Cela had wanted something more than last night, which she obviously didn’t, it’d be irresponsible for him to open up that submission, expose it, with only a few weeks together. Discovering that side of yourself brought up a lot of shit, even for a dominant. Coming to terms with those feelings and urges often took time and a support system, someone to guide a person through the pitfalls.
