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“Hello, miss,” the man behind the counter said, smiling but not making eye contact. A sub.
Did she look like a Domme or was he just being polite? Sometimes her fetish wear came off a little intimidating, but it was just her style. Tonight, the short black skirt, hot pink tank top, and stockings shouldn’t read one way or the other. Maybe if she’d worn pigtails she’d have been approached by now.
“How can I service you today?” he asked, eyes still lowered, his lashes so long they seemed to brush his cheekbones.
Maybe he was a service sub and got off on treating everyone like they were above him. Some people were into that. “Just a Diet Coke, please.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
A moment later, he handed her a plastic cup. She put a few bills on the counter and sipped her drink. A man walked in the door, catching her eye. Long, dark hair, sinfully handsome, he was trailed by two women who looked like they were fighting over who stood closest to him.
She recognized him. Ambrose’s friend Konstantin. Eyes narrowed, she fought the urge to approach him and demand answers. Why had his friend acted like such a chickenshit the other night? But she resisted. It wasn’t any of her business. If Ambrose didn’t want her,
she wasn’t about to get all desperate and clingy about it.
Konstantin stopped just inside the door and surveyed the room, like he owned the place, then his eyes landed on her. He walked toward her, his girls following behind him. His stride was cocky, like most Doms’, but it didn’t do much for her. He was too pretty. She liked Ambrose’s rough edge better.
“Hi,” he said when he reached her. “Nice to see you, Everly.”
“You too.”
He ran his gaze over her, but not in a lustful way. More like he was taking notes about her. “Are you here with Ambrose?”
“No. He made it pretty clear he wasn’t interested,” she said bitterly. The sudden anger surprised her. But there it was. And now Konstantin knew.
He nodded slowly. “You should know, he was . . . hurt in the past.”
“Yeah, I don’t have time for guys who have shit to deal with. By my age, you gotta work that stuff out.”
“I see.” He frowned, and for some reason, guilt speared her.
She scoffed at herself. Why should she care what this guy thought of her? She wasn’t about to let him get into her head and make her doubt herself. She’d given Ambrose a chance.
“So you are here looking for another Dom?”
“Just someone to play with tonight.” She tilted her chin up to hide that he’d made her question herself.
After another long, assessing stare, he said, “Well, good luck and be safe. And if you run into any trouble, let me know.”
“I will.” She smiled slightly. Okay, that was kind of sweet. Maybe Ambrose had good taste in friends. Didn’t mean he had good taste in subs.
Konstantin and his girls retreated to a booth in the corner, and Everly returned to her pity party. She must’ve been giving off some major pouty vibes, because a man appeared at the seat next to her and gave her a sinister look. Pouting always attracted the predatory types.
“What’s a pretty thing like you doing over here all by yourself?” he purred.
Unashamedly, she ran her gaze over him. Brown eyes, warm and trustworthy. Plain hair cut short and styled in spikes. Fitted black T-shirt that showed off a decent body. Leather pants. Ugh. That was almost a hard limit. Still, she didn’t get dolled up and drag herself here to give up already.
She batted her lashes. “Waiting for someone to call me pretty.”
He chuckled. “Can I sit?”
“Sure.”
After perching on the bar stool next to her, he grinned, revealing a gorgeous smile. “I’m Troy.”
“Everly.”
“Cool name.”
