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“Yeah?” I raise one brow.
He gulps.
“I-I don’t think she wants you to hold her like that. I-Ivy, are you okay?”
I let her go, interested to see what she does.
Pollyanna turns toward the guy and puts her hand on my chest. I’m not even sure she realizes she’s doing it. But it’s a brand. Normally I’d tell her when and where she can touch me. I’d let her know in very explicit terms that she’ll never forget she needs my permission. Ever. Again.
Explicit like the heavy leather belt I’m wearing for that exact purpose.
But I let it go this time.
For now. Later is another story.
“I’m fine, Lachlan,” she says before motioning to me. “This is my?—”
“Not interested.” I turn my back on the kid and lead Ivy to the bar. I’m more than aware the move was beyond the asshole realm, and straight into downright rude, but I don’t give a damn. It’s only a matter of time before I cut her off from the people she knows.
Lachlan fucking who?
It’s part power play, part necessary for the job, and it’s going to make her dependence on me deepen faster.
I order two drinks, some disgustingly sweet cocktail for her, and whiskey neat for me.
“How did you know I was…?” Ivy stops, her normally full lips…the ones made for my cock…thinning. “You were watching me.”
“I’d say guilty, but it’s not a smart word to use around you.” Her lips part like she wants to argue that point but can’t. I move closer, otherwise I’d have to shout, and fuck that. I’m not a shouter. “I dropped by your place to talk and saw you headed out, so here I am.”
“Stalking.”
Not exactly. She was followed by one of my people. I don’t use bodyguards and I tend to utilize the networks set up by the Obsidian Knights, or when I need to,them. But I do have adriver, and a handful of Town Cars to provide dedicated, discreet service for me and whatever guest I might have when I need it. She doesn’t need details.
This is stage one of my carefully planned evening.
“I’ll take that as a yes.” She rolls her eyes. “Why are we still here?”
I shift closer, letting my hand settle on her hip.
“Because, Pollyanna, I’ve been making noise about you, my shiny new potential slave.”
She takes a swallow of her drink and nearly chokes. “Me.”
“Prettyandsmart.”
Ivy glares at me for that, but there’s a small spark in her eyes, too.
“I’ve been making noise since we were at Orb last week. That I was planning to see you again, and so here we are. Coincidentally running into each other. We’re going to stay here for a drink, and then I’m going to take you to a couple of other places so we can be seen together. We’re laying the tiles, Pollyanna, setting the fucking scene. It’s opening night.”
“Too bad I forgot to learn my lines,” she bites out sarcastically.
“It’s more improv.” I brush her ear with my lips. “Live freeform jazz.”
Ivy makes a small noise that hooks me somewhere inside, right into the alpha Dom part of me. The urge to clamp down and make the claim formal by tying her up, breaking her down and fucking her into something new is almost overwhelming.
But the shock of that near loss of control stops me from doing anything stupid.
I’m used to strong urges when I want something. I always manage them. But she…she’s on another level.
