AllFreeNovel
Share Us
He knew she loved him—as a friend—and that she was sexually attracted to him, but her refusal to enter into a serious power exchange relationship was impossibly frustrating. She had explained it wasn’t about him, but who ever believed that? Maybe he was too intense and scaring her off? Or maybe it was legitimately something about the ex she never talked about.
“I’m telling you first because you’re my best friend, bitchface.”
She rolled her eyes. “So are you going to ask me to go check the place out with you, or are you going alone? I’m assuming you’re not taking Will with you, considering this was supposed to be about making space for yourself.”
“Will hated summer camp, so he’s going to think this is the most fucked-up idea he’s ever heard.”
“It is pretty out there. I mean, you’ll have to find people with disposable income who can afford to fly in, but not people who are too fancy. I’m assuming it’s not like the swanky old hotel the Fitte guys own.”
“Right.” He gritted his teeth, trying to banish the visual of her at the mercy of the three strapping Norwegians. She’d played with them several times, he knew. There were some things he just couldn’t compete with.
“If you market it right I don’t see any reason why it won’t make money.” She chewed at her bottom lip and began to nod to herself. “I know people who’d love a vacation like this. Hell, I’d love a vacation like this. I’d choose a kink lodge—even if it is up north—rather than some all-inclusive in Mexico. Being able to be yourself and not having to worry about people complaining to the hotel manager? Or the cops? Shut up and take my money.”
“So will you come with me to check it out?”
“Wouldn’t fucking miss it.”
For a moment all he could do was grin at her. One of the bonuses of buying the place had been to get away from her and get her out of his head. Now, instead, he was looking forward to getting her alone there for a few days. Maybe it would give him time to seduce her and finally sneak a collar around her pretty throat.
All’s fair in love and mastery.
As soon as he thought it, he felt like a fucking douchenozzle.
Get a grip, asshole. This is Arabella, not some sort of Viking conquest.
He should count himself lucky she was agreeing to go at all. They’d go as friends and he wouldn’t push the envelope. He could be such a fucking bastard sometimes. Machiavellian. It was hard to stop himself.
Wait a minute.
He eyed her suspiciously. “Is that my shirt?”
She looked down at herself and shrugged. “Doesn’t everyone have a Catacombs shirt?”
“Probably most of the people we know, but if you look closely the one you’re wearing says Grant on the sleeve.”
“Oh, is that your name? I just assumed someone granted me this T-shirt.”
“I haven’t seen it since before the reno.”
Her dark eyes gleamed with mischief. “It wasn’t doing you much good hanging off the back of your chair. One of the baby Doms cut my shirt off during a scene. It was a little unplanned and I needed something to go home in.” She smiled coquettishly. “But by all means, if you want it back feel free to come over here and see if you can take it.”
An answering growl rolled in his chest. He didn’t even care about the shirt. He would have given her the thing if she’d asked. Hell, he didn’t even care if she went through his office and stole everything he owned. They were that close—or had been at one time. It was the bratting that she never used to direct at him that he couldn’t handle. When she’d done it to other men, back in the day, he’d thought it was hilarious, but now that he’d had her and knew it was like having all of that teasing energy directed at him it was like a drug.
He imagined shoving her back hard against the couch and ripping the fucking shirt off her sweet little body. His lip curled with the ferocity of his reaction to her and the satisfied gleam in her eyes only upped the ante.
This was exactly why they’d stopped hanging out. He couldn’t control himself around her when she got like this, and he’d be damned if she thought he was willing to be another mutt sniffing around the bitch in heat. He wanted her to be his bitch. He wasn’t willing to share.
“So I can keep the shirt?” she asked with feigned innocence. The finger that had been twirling her hair drifted downward, skimming the shirt from the collar to her breast. Her nipple was hard and as she flicked it, her expression amused, his cock stood at attention.
His dick had always been a bit of a joiner.
He pushed to his feet, trying to turn his expression cold, but he had a feeling he wasn’t that good of an actor.
“Sure, you can keep it. Actually, wear it to the club. I’d be only too happy for you to walk in there labeled as mine. You were the one who didn’t like that idea.”
She frowned at him and rose, stripping off the shirt in a long fluid motion that showed off her body to delicious advantage. How had he ever thought she was plain? Her tomboyish taste in clothing and penchant for lewd jokes, swearing, and discussing her sexual exploits had been like an elaborate smoke screen that had kept him entirely unaware of her appeal.
Brows lowered, she balled the shirt up and threw it at him. He managed to catch it despite the distracting way the motion made her tits jiggle. Now, in only a small pair of boy short panties—black with orange jack-o’-lanterns even though it was months away from Halloween, she looked like a model from a goth porn site.
