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“It was, though. Because you were real fucking quick to make judgments on me.”
“Do you want to hear what I have to say, or do you need to finish first? We aren’t going to get anywhere if you are constantly interrupting me.” I arched an eyebrow at him in challenge.
“Okay. I’m listening.” He sighed heavily, acceding his point, at least for the time being.
“I don’t think that male submissives are weak. I don’t think any submissives are. But that didn’t stop me from making judgments about you, based on your appearance and demeanor.” My words didn’t seem to faze him much. His expression remained unchanging, his eyes narrowed in on me.
“Why did you make that assumption about me?” he asked. I cringed at his question.
“Listen, I’m trying to apologize, here.”
“A sorry and a quickly rehearsed turn of phrase is not enough of an apology.” He scoffed, laughing at my words as he crossed his arms in front of his chest. I resisted the urge to roll my eyes at him.
“This is why, if you must know. This overconfident attitude? It reeks of a newbie Dominant who doesn’t know a butt-plug from a ball-gag.”
“Funny. I didn’t expect you to be funny.” He half-chuckled sarcastically.
“Well, maybe don’t be so quick to make assumptions, then.” I spat the words back, growing more annoyed by the moment.
“Assumptions are a bitch that way, aren’t they?” He mirrored my earlier expression, arching his thick brow high.
“Ok, fine. If I’m being honest, I’m not used to newcomers simply walking up to me, talking to me the way you did.”
“And what way is that?”
“Cocky,” I said with a short laugh. He smirked. “I had just finished a scene and was ready to get home and relax, and suddenly here’s this new guy approaching me… At the end of the day, I wasn’t thinking straight, and I made an assumption. This club has seen more than its fair share of overly confident men thinking they are badass Alpha Doms,” I explained, knowing the truth didn’t paint me in the best of lights.
“What is it that makes you think that only male Dominants can be assertive and flirtatious?” He leaned forward, elbows on the table between us.
“I don’t think that.”
“But you obviously do, because it was that exact thing that made you think I was a Dominant. I hate to break it to you, sweetheart, but anyone can flirt, Dominant or submissive, male or female.”
“Don’t call me sweetheart.”
“Don’t assume I’m a Dominant, or that I’m weak because I’m a submissive.” His words, just as harsh as mine had just been, hit hard.
“Thatcher… I really do not think you are weak because you are a submissive. What I said, what I assumed? That was wrong of me, and I can’t apologize enough for it. I promise you, that’s not the kind of person I am.”
“Now that’s an apology,” he said with that same smirk he’d had that first night at Haven.
“Well, I mean it. I wasn’t thinking straight. This cocky, charming stranger approached me out of nowhere, and it just caught me off guard.” I quipped flippantly, relaxing now that the tension was receding.
“So you think I’m charming.” There it was, that teasing flirtation that seemed to roll right off his tongue, just as it had that first night. That smirk was disarming.
“You’re a bit incorrigible, aren’t you?” I shot back, raising my eyebrow and pinning him with a look.
“Oof. And I have a feeling you are one hell of a Domme,” he answered, his hand clutching at his chest for a moment at the heat of my gaze. Wait, was my gaze heated? I hadn’t intended it to be, but here we were. He had this ability to brat just enough to keep me on my toes and make me want to put him in his place. But I didn’t want that. I was happy with how things were. I just wasn’t sure if I was being honest with myself or hedging against some deeper truth.
“You like pushing buttons, don’t you?” I asked, cocking my head to one side, my arms crossing over my chest. I knew how it made me look, my breasts pushing upwards against the confines of the corset, my long, red painted nails thrumming against my upper arm. And even with this knowledge, I wasn’t stopping.
“Better to push buttons than boundaries,” he said with a shrug, leaning forward until his elbows rested on the table. The look he was giving me was pure fire, his eyes roving over my form. I could detect a hunger there, even though he kept it almost completely hidden. Reading people was a strong suit of mine, and I could read him. I just couldn’t quite figure him out.
“And what’s to say this isn’t a boundary?” I was egging him on. I knew it. He knew it.
“If it’s a boundary, then please state it and it will be respected.”
His words hung in the air as the silence stretched on. I should have said something. I should have laid the boundary down for him to adhere to. It was the proper thing to do. But was it a boundary? Or was taking Jamie’s advice the right thing to do?
