In a last-ditch effort to save the night, she blurted, “Do you have a dungeon?”
“Huh?” Ambrose muted the TV show.
“Do you have a dungeon like Banner’s?”
He narrowed his eyes. “You think you’re ready for that? It’s only been a month.”
She grunted. “I’m getting older every second. A month is long enough. Take me to your dungeon.” With a leer, she added, “Unless you’re scared.”
He laughed. “Banner warned me about your bratty streak. Lucky for you, I happen to like brats.” Sighing, he put the soda down, shut off the TV, and stood up. “Come on then, girl. Let’s go to the dungeon.”
For once, she wished he’d make her eat her words. A rush of excitement tore through her. Now she’d see what he was really like. They could test their connection and maybe, finally, she could get Banner out of her mind.
Ambrose’s house wasn’t as artsy as Banner’s. She could tell he lived comfortably by his giant TV and sound system, but he didn’t have style like Banner did. He took her through his dining room and into a room at the back she hadn’t seen yet. It was set up like an office, but there was an area off to the side with furniture she recognized. A coffee table with restraints dangling down and an O-ring hanging from the ceiling. A cabinet stood against one wall and an oversized couch was on the other wall.
“My dungeon is more like a playroom,” he said. “And it doubles as an office. I don’t have a big basement like Banner.”
She peered around, taking inventory of the items she liked. “It’ll do.”
Ambrose laughed. “It’ll do? Don’t you know talking about a man’s dungeon is like talking about his cock? We’re prideful folk, even in the kink world.”
“Well, I have yet to see your cock or maybe I’d have more compliments.”
He barked a laugh. “Sassy girl.”
Then do something about it, she wanted to scream.
She sashayed across the room, hoping to entice him with what Banner had thought was her best asset—her ass. Was Ambrose an ass man? It was hard to tell, since he hardly ever touched her.
“So, have I been naughty enough?” she purred.
“For what?”
Really? Playing coy, she shrugged. “A punishment.”
“Nah. You’d have to be much worse for that.”
Ugh! The man was impossible. What would he do if she just stripped right there, right then. If she stood here naked, then bent over the couch, showing off her clean shaven legs and pussy? Would he be able to resist?
She was almost brave enough to do it. Except that if he didn’t touch her, if he ignored her, it would hurt her already fragile ego. It made her wonder about Banner. He’d rejected her too. He didn’t want what she had to offer, which wasn’t twenty-four-seven slavery, but it was submission and devotion and maybe even love.
Her eyes watered. What was she doing there? Why was she putting herself through this hurt and humiliation just for some kinky sex? She could find a nice vanilla guy who never made her feel this way—unwanted. Rejected. Maybe the kink world wasn’t for her.
Her eyes stung from trying to hold back her tears. Feeling as though she might burst into deep sobs that left her even more humiliated, she looked for a quick escape.
Ambrose watched her, hands in his pockets, looking no more interested than when he had been watching the documentary about ants.
“I need to use the bathroom,” she choked out.
He nodded, and she barely managed to leave the room before the first tear fell. In the bathroom, she cleaned her face then texted Janine.
I need death by ice cream, posthaste.
She texted back right away. I’ll meet you at your place in 30 minutes.
Thank you.
Now she had to find a way to end her date with Ambrose.
***
Faking cramps worked to get out of the rest of their night together. He hadn’t even seemed that broken up about it, which only made it sting more.
At her place, she rubbed Pixie’s belly until Janine arrived, armed with her favorite flavor of Ben & Jerry’s.
“What happened?” Janine said after they doled out huge bowlfuls of ice cream. “Why the sudden crisis?”
Kate shook her head. “Nobody likes me, and I think I’m going to die childless and single with a vibrator as my only sex partner.”
Janine choked on a bite of ice cream and half coughed, half laughed for a minute. “That’s ridiculous. What would make you think that?”
“Ambrose won’t fuck me. I put out so many signals. The last step is a flashing sign above my vagina that says ‘For a good time, stick your cock in here.’”
Janine choked again, laughing at the same time. “Seriously. Stop it. I’m trying to help you wallow in ice cream here.”
Kate sighed. Even Cherry Garcia wasn’t making her feel better.
“Don’t be sad, Kate,” she said, sobering. “There’s someone out there for you. If Ambrose can’t see how hot you are, and how kinky, and maybe a little desperate . . .”
Kate tossed her a glare.
“Then he’s an idiot and not meant for you. Personally, I think you had more of a shot with Banner. At least you didn’t need a vagina sign for him to satisfy your slutty urges.” She winked.
“You know why that ended.” Though lately, she’d been questioning that. But it was too late. Banner had probably moved on. Plus, even if she did want the Master/slave thing, did he even want her? From the way he insisted on foisting her off on Ambrose, it seemed unlikely. He could have anyone. He was loving and sexy and a damn good Dom, and there were so many submissive girls out there who would do anything to be his. And what did she have to offer except a big ass and a hell of a lot of work when it came to submission? Maybe if she hadn’t challenged him so much, she’d have stood a better chance.
“Yeah, that was a bunch of bullshit,” Janine said, catching her attention. “You’re both being stupid.”
“What?” Janine was the one person she could count on for support. They bitched about men, vented about work, and watched trashy reality TV to make themselves feel better about their lives. They definitely didn’t call each other out on stuff.
“You two are good together. You just don’t see it.”
“I’m not what he wants.”
“Bullshit!”
She shook her head. “You don’t understand.”
“I’d spank you myself if I had an ounce of dominance in me,” she scolded.
Even the lame threat didn’t make Kate laugh.
Janine stuffed a bite of ice cream in her mouth. Kate had let the rest of hers turn to soup, feeling nauseated with anxiety.
“I’d get Chris to spank you if I didn’t think Banner would blow a gasket.”
Kate froze. What?
“It’d be hot to watch anyway,” Janine said, more to herself.
“Why would Banner care what anyone does to me? He’s the one who threw me at Ambrose.”
Janine scraped the bottom of her bowl, then licked the spoon clean. “Yeah, well, he’s been moping around for weeks. You should see him. It’s so obvious he’s jealous.”
Kate rejected the idea immediately. She didn’t mean that much to him. If she did, he wouldn’t have been encouraging her relationship with Ambrose every time she called or dropped by. He always seemed so happy for them. Maybe she’d been exaggerating about how well things were going because she wanted to show she’d moved on and that they could still be friends. But really, she was lying to herself. According to her fantasies, she hadn’t moved on. And staying friends was killing her. With Ambrose not putting out, and her constantly comparing him to Banner, her sex drive was through the roof. It was a good thing they hadn’t seen each other in a while or she’d have trouble not jumping him.
“No.” She shook her head. “There must be another reason.”
Janine grinned. “It’s all about you, baby.”
If that were true—and that was a big “if”—if she told him she was ready for more, maybe not twenty-four-seven, but more dominance, would he consider taking her back?
But they were never really together to begin with. She was supposed to be learning from him, not falling in love with him.
Shit. Did she love him? Her emotions were too fucked up to say for sure. Right now, she just wanted to feel his arms around her, to breathe in his scent of soap, to know that there was someone in the world who would protect her at any cost. She fought back the urge to drive to his house just to see his face and hear his voice. Sexual frustration mixed with self-doubt and too much chocolate was a recipe for bad decisions.
“Keep resisting if you want to,” Janine said. “But it’s only hurting you both.”
Chapter 16
Around them the hum of the crowd faded, leaving Banner and the artwork on the wall in a swathe of silence. At his shoulder, Rook stood, and Banner could feel his brother become similarly mesmerized.
The subject of the piece knelt, androgynous in its suffering, a supplicant to a higher power. A sliver of hope lay behind the figure, a subtle beam of sunlight filtering through heavy cloud. Banner wanted the subject to turn and look, but s/he was too immersed in what was being experienced to see anything external. Or was the ray of light actually the subject? He could almost feel its frustration at being ignored.