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It was Olivia’s third ‘uh huh,’ when normally she was quite vocal, that made Rick realize he’d started babbling. About Maria. And his voice had gotten warmer and more excited as he’d done so. He glared at the smirking redhead across the table from him.
“But she’s not submissive, so don’t even think about it.”
She just rolled her eyes. “How do you know she’s not submissive?”
Half an hour later he’d pretty much spilled his guts out, going over every detail of his initial interactions with Maria while Olivia listened thoughtfully. He’d even gotten a second beer to replace the warmed one. Olivia could probably have gotten work as an interrogator if she’d ever wanted to. It felt kind of good to finally unload everything to her.
“So you think she’s not submissive because of how she came onto you initially?” Olivia asked.
“Don’t ask that like I’m an idiot... she just doesn’t seem submissive.”
“Not all submissives are obvious. Remember Angel?” Olivia smirked at him. When he’d first met Angel, it had been at a different club, one closer to Rick which he’d wanted to check out in hopes his friends could meet him at a kink club halfway between them every so often.
Unfortunately, Chained had been a letdown, but they had met Angel there. She’d been posing as a Domme, trying to get comfortable with the scene and clubs on her own, and he, Chris, and Andrew had all been taken in. Only Adam, who was generally considered one of the best at reading body language, had figured out that something was off, and even he’d second guessed himself over and over again until she’d shown up at Stronghold for her Introduction Scene as a submissive.
“Bad example, she knew she was submissive and she was faking it. I haven’t seen any indication from Maria that she even knows what being submissive is.”
“She still came to talk to you after you threatened to spank her,” Olivia pointed out. A male sub walked by on his way to the Lounge, giving her a longing look, but she didn’t even notice. Too involved poking her nose into his business. Olivia did like to be a problem-solver; he sometimes suspected she liked it as much as she liked dominating submissives. “That means something.”
“Yeah, she has no sense of self-preservation.”
“Or... she’s not opposed to the idea.” Smirking at him Olivia hopped up from her barstool. “The only person stopping you from getting what you want, as far as I can see, is you.”
Patting his shoulder, Olivia turned and walked away, heading straight for the Lounge and the sub that had just walked by. The well-muscled man perked up the moment he saw her coming. Apparently, she had seen him after all.
Damn it was annoying when she did that.
Finishing off his beer, Rick returned to the bar for another, and chatted with the Doms, Dommes, and couples who ended up there throughout the night. Nothing serious. Nothing heavy. None of them asked him why he wasn’t playing down in the Dungeon although he could see in their eyes that they were wondering.
Andrew definitely was curious, but, unlike Olivia, he wasn’t the type to pry information out of someone. Which was good, because Rick wouldn’t have had a good answer for him if he’d asked.
I’m such a stalker.
She hadn’t meant to be, but she’d gotten home late from the restaurant and had recognized Rick getting out of his car. Friday night... she couldn’t help but wonder what he’d been up to. And instead of getting out of her car, she’d sat in the darkness and watched him. She wondered where he’d been that he was wearing what looked like leather pants—leather pants in the summer? As far as she knew he didn’t have a motorcycle. The only motorcycle in the parking lot belonged to some dude in the next building over.
So why the leather pants?
Not exactly date clothes. Thankfully, because she had the sinking feeling Rick on a date with someone else would crush her hopeful little heart.
Where had he been?
Or was he wearing them because he was expecting late night company? Even though it was after midnight, she’d waited in her car for half an hour, waiting to see if someone else showed up. Butterflies of nervousness had assaulted her the entire time. If someone had, she probably would have followed them into the building to see if they’d go to his apartment.
She probably would have been out there for another half hour if she hadn’t seen the lights in his apartment go out.
Because I’m a crazy stalker.
Crawling into bed a lot later than she’d intended, Maria decided she needed to do something bold. Something to show him that she wasn’t disturbed by the idea of being spanked by him—although she wasn’t entirely sure of the truth of that. Spanking could be hot, though, right? It didn’t always have to be painful. Not that she knew anyone who had actually been spanked since they were a kid, so she was going off of the few romances she’d read which had a bit of light spanking in them.
She liked him. She really liked him. Not just a “hey I want to hang out and be friends” kind of interest, although she’d settle for that if he truly didn’t want more with her, but she got the feeling his attraction to her was just as strong as hers to him. For some reason he was fighting it. So it was up to her to do something to push him past that.
Once she’d decided on a course of action, the pent up energy keeping her awake faded away. Rolling onto her side, she hugged one of her extra pillows, smiling to herself.
Surprisingly, she got a pretty good night’s sleep. That morning, for the first time in days, she didn’t go to the pool to see if he was working out. Nope. She spent the morning shaving, buffing and polishing and then going through her wardrobe. Every inch of her was all soft from her lotion, every inch of her except a thin landing strip of her pubes had been shaved off, and every inch of her was buzzing with excitement.
When was the last time she’d done something this crazy?
Had she ever done something this crazy?
