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I felt a whole mix of things when some of the women looked at him. Including a little possessiveness. And pride. He was holdingmyhand, and they saw it. Not the ones on their knees; those women didn’t seem to look at anything but the floor or the person holding their leash. But other women… I could see others looking at him with open longing. Appreciation. Lust.
Submissives? Or not?
I saw men looking at me like that, too. Men who noticed how Shane held my hand and guided me through the crowd.
They know what you are to him. And they like it.
That, also, was getting me hot. The idea that other men might want me like this—but I was only withhim.
He asked me if I wanted to dance. I told him, “Only if you dance with me.”
He asked me if I wanted another drink. I told him, “Only if you drink with me.”
He wasn’t drinking alcohol tonight, yet again, but that was okay. He seemed to choose the bar over the dance floor. And as he led me that way, I suddenly saw someone I recognized.
Lamborghini woman.
I stopped short, and Shane stopped with me.
She stood on the other side of the bar, across from us, but she wasn’t looking our way. I wouldn’t have thought I’d recognize her. I didn’t think I really got that good a look at her that night. But it was her. I knew it instantly.
I wondered if they’d noticed each other yet. If he knew she was here.
“Something wrong?” he asked me.
“Your friend. She’s right over there.”
He looked. “She’s not my friend, Jolie.” He was still holding my hand and I was terrified he was going to drag me over there. That he was going to say hello and I’d have to meet her. Or worse, stand there while he talked to her and she flirted with him, right in front of me.
I was paralyzed.
And man, was I stupid.
In all my excited curiosity about coming to this place with him, it hadn’t even occurred to me—until the moment he mentioned that “trainer” woman he’d had sex with—that I should probably prepare myself for the fact that we might cross paths with women he’d been with in this place.
So stupid.
And now that I was looking right at one of them… I wasn’t prepared for it.
He said he didn’t have sex with her. But I still felt grossly uncomfortable, and she wasn’t even looking at us. I was looking at her, and it was all too real now. That he’d met other women in this place. Maybe a lot.
“I hate her.”
Wellshit, that just slipped right out.
“Why?”
“Uh…” Crap. Did I really just say that? I didn’t even know much about the woman.
But all I could think about right now was that awful night, and that moment when I’d fallen on my ass and humiliated myself. I had no idea if she’d actually seen my boob pop out or what, but it didn’t matter.
I met Shane’s eyes. “She made you laugh.”
Christ. I was really not trying to sound like a pouty jealous baby, but come on. He was totally on to me.
His thumb drifted over mine, back and forth, as he studied me. “There’s no need to be jealous, little dove.”
“Why?” I forced myself to hold his gaze. “I’ll leave here in two weeks and maybe you’ll be back with her, spanking her on her Lamborghini.”
