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Goddammit, I needed a smoke.
I ducked outside and lit up, standing exactly where I’d been the night I’d met Alastair, inhaling the soothing smoke into my lungs. After a few long puffs, I felt better. I did want to quit this stupid habit completely. Just, not yet.
If Alastair fucking Kenney wanted to play around with half the men in Ottawa, that was his business. He was damned lucky he’d got that one night—er, morning—with me at the Chateau. Even though it had beenvanilla, it had rocked my socks, and I knew it had rocked his. He’d even said as much. We’d had an incredible connection, and maybe that was worth more than all the kinky shit in the world.
I was standing there smoking my ciggy, explaining to myself why there wasn’t anything to feel insecure about, when someone shoved the door open and stomped down the steps, almost crashing into me.
“Oh sorry,” I said, because I was Canadian, and it was instinct to apologize for being in someone’s way. Then I realized it was Alastair’s boy toy.
He turned and scowled at me, then went on his way, as I stared after him, wondering what had happened. Had Alastair used the wrong paddle?
The air out here was frigid, but I didn’t want to go back inside until I’d finished my cigarette. Since I didn’t smoke all that much during the day, I wanted to enjoy it when I did. I was curious now, but I just stood there, holding my coat closed with my free hand, listening to the ambient sounds of the city.
I heard the door open, and the edges of my lips tipped up even before I turned to see Alastair coming down the stairs. He was coatless and frowning, with worry marks etched into his forehead.
“I was looking for you,” he said.
I gazed at him and took a leisurely puff on my cigarette. Once I’d exhaled, I said, “Last I heard you were taking a pretty boy into the Bordello to spank into submission.”
Alastair cleared his throat and shoved his hands into his jean pockets, looking like he wished he’d stopped to grab his jacket. “Well, he left.”
“Yeah. He passed me. He looked pissed.”
Alastair sighed, and the worry lines on his forehead faded. “Hewaspissed.”
“What happened?”
“Nothing. That’s why he was pissed.”
I gaped at Alastair. “Nothing? You took him to the Bordello and nothing happened?”
Alastair looked embarrassed. “Well, it started to happen. We tried to get things going.”
I could just imagine.
“But I was distracted,” he admitted, gazing at me almost shyly.
“Really,” I said, taking another puff on my cigarette. I thought about offering it to Alastair, but I was still kind of mad about the boy toy, even if he’d left in a huff. Alastair wasn’t having much luck tonight, and that thought made me happy.
Alastair looked at his feet and nodded. He nudged a pile of slush with the toe of his boot. “I couldn’t stop thinking about undressing a gorgeous man in a chemise,” he said, suddenly breathless. “And how much I wanted to do it again.”
I rolled my eyes, even though his words pleased me more than I wanted to admit. “Oh, yeah?”
“Look… Can we go inside? It’s fucking freezing out here.”
“You should have worn your coat,” I said.
“Why are you so angry? You knew I brought men here.”
I shrugged, dropping the butt of my cigarette to the pavement and grinding it out with my heel. “I don’t honestly know.”
“Well, it seems you’ve ruined it for me…after one fucking night.”
“It was morning,” I reminded him.
He glared at me, and a frustrated Alastair Kenney was a sexy Alastair Kenney, even though I hated to admit it.
“I’m going in. But we need to talk,” he said.
