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Archer has dropped twice in the short time I’ve known him. He’s sensitive, emotional, and hugely empathetic which is both a challenge and one of his greatest strengths.
“People should talk about it more, you know.” Archer finishes his beer. “I think the fact everyone thinks dominants are invincible, strong as fuck assholes with no feelings really does us a disservice.” Not sure that he’s talking to anyone in particular, but he also isn’t wrong. Again. Fucker.
“So you’re telling me to get the fuck to bed, have a good breakfast, be patient and wait for her to be ready to talk it out, and hand over the paddle until she’s ready to use it again?”
Both men nod.
“I hate you both.”
Archer shakes his head, standing and picking up the three empty beer bottles. “If you hated us you wouldn’t have sent up the dom-signal.”
“That’s not a thing.” Jagger grunts.
“Should be.” Archer shrugs. “I bet the submissives all have some kind of association.”
“It’s called Sub club.” Standing, I stop dead in my tracks. Did I just breach the confidence of the three submissives in my circle? Shit. I can’t seem to stop putting my foot in it.
“Kenzie and Addison?”
“And Paige.” I walk them both to the door.
“Paige is a switch,” Jagger points out.
Shrugging, I step aside to let them out. “Still works though. Not sure if it’s a closed group or if they’re going to become a thing.”
Archer purses his lips. “I can see a whole line of Sub Club merch for the club.” He’s the marketing and PR director for Protocol—all of them, well, Minneapolis and soon-to-be Cedar Rapids, so far.
“I’d hold fire and talk to the girls first. I’m sure they’ll be down for the idea, and they’ll probably have suggestions of their own.”
He nods at my suggestion, but his brain is clearly already bubbling over with ideas. I predict we’ll have Sub Club merchandise samples within a week, and a full line available in the club and online before the end of the month.
While I don’t feel any better about my current clusterfuck, my mood is lighter for having spoken to my colleagues. I guess there’s a lesson in there somewhere, but next time something happens I bet I’ll still pace around my floor for an hour before calling in the cavalry.
Checking on Matty one last time before I climb into bed alone for the first time in weeks, my heart is heavy and my soul unsettled. The only thing I can do is hope and pray that Addison comes back to me, but right now, staring at the ceiling, I wouldn’t blame her if she didn’t.
CHAPTER26
Addison
Before I even open myeyes, my ass muscles groan. There’s going to be a giant bruise on my butt, and no amount of wishing it away will make it go anywhere. Rolling over onto my side, I stretch out an arm, knowing all I’m going to find is cool sheets and empty space.
Staying here was probably not the best idea, the only person I want to see this morning is Thor. And Matthew. But mostly Thor. My heart aches more than the tender flesh on my butt. He probably feels so bad for how things went last night. And all I could do was run away. Did he talk to anyone about it? Does he have friends to step up and help?
Was Austin supposed to go and help him and instead he was pinned under my sobbing ass on his couch?
My phone vibrates on the bedside table, lifting my spirit. Thor’s calling, and we’re going to make things okay. Except when I pick up my cell, it’s Mom’s face flashing on the screen. Biting back a groan, I pick up. “Mom?”
“Your sister says you’re shacking up with some guy with a child, Addison.” Her exhale is so heavy her phone probably buckles under its weight. “When will you learn? Are you pregnant? Is that what’s going on? Did you have an oopsie in the bedroom and now you’re stuck with some bartender waster?”
Oh no, she did not.
“Mom.”
She keeps talking, not stopping at my interjection.
“Mom.” My repeated word is louder, firmer, more commanding, but she doesn’t stop until I yell at her. “Mom, stop.”
Her words trail off, and it takes a moment for the shock of me stopping her mid-sentence to sink in. “Addison, what has gotten into you?”
