Finding Master Right(41)

Life, pain, suffering, hope—the concepts turned and mixed. The canvas reflected the human condition, taking his small problems and showing him what they meant in comparison to what other people were going through. It was easy to wallow in self-pity, but the painting showed him how shallow and pathetic he’d become.

So she didn’t love him. So what?

His world had narrowed to the point where he sat in the dark in his house, moping over a girl not liking him. Was he twelve? Hell, Rook had bigger issues than he did, and he didn’t mope around whining about them. He hadn’t even said anything about the idiots at school for a couple of weeks now. Maybe things were improving.

Suddenly self-conscious, Banner wiped eyes that were about to overflow. His throat was tight. He glanced at Rook, but the kid was keeping it together better than he was.

“How did we not know about Archange Lapierre before now?” His voice sounded hoarse even to his own ears, but Rook wasn’t judgmental about things like that.

“He’s new.”

They both stared at the canvas again, and Banner lost track of time.

Life was too short to love people who didn’t love you back. Maybe Kate was out of reach, but part of his problem lately was that he’d been avoiding Ambrose to avoid her. He had to stop being stupid and immature about it. Ambrose and Konstantin were too important to him to let a girl come between them. Hadn’t they promised not to be “those guys” since high school?

Ambrose was throwing a welcome home party for Konstantin the next night. He’d seriously thought about coming up with a work excuse, but he’d been avoiding Ambrose so much lately, he knew the lie would be obvious. Time to bite the bullet and reclaim his best friends. And if Kate was there being . . . Kate, he’d just have to learn to ignore that. Maybe exposure to her and Ambrose together was the key to desensitizing himself to her charms.

He was going to go. He was going to hook up with some random sub. He was going to have fun, even if it killed him.

“I’m going to look at his sculptures upstairs. Are you staying?”

Banner’s attention focused back on Rook, who was staring at him. People around them were drinking champagne and eating hors d’oeuvres, their voices a cacophony compared to the stillness the painting had spread through him. He wasn’t ready to part with the artwork yet.

“Maybe for a few more minutes. What time is it?”

Rook pulled their father’s beaten old pocket watch out of his pocket and handed it over.

“It’s almost eight. Here.” Rook pressed the archaic timepiece into Banner’s hand. “You should keep this.”

“What? No. You love this thing.” Banner frowned at him.

Rook laughed airily. “I have no idea why Mom gave it to me in the first place. You’re the businessman. Artists don’t need to know the time.”

“I can’t keep this, Rook. Dad would have wanted you to have this.”

His brother shrugged. “Just keep it for now, then. It’s safer with you anyway.” Rook gave him the finger guns and strolled off. What was getting into him? Maybe things were going even better with Dylan? He was almost afraid to ask. He watched Rook’s retreating back, wondering if the boy had gotten taller.

Archange Lapierre’s work was calling to him, so he turned his attention back to the series of brushstrokes that conveyed so much meaning. He’d have to find someone later and ask if the piece was for sale.

***

The woman at the boutique had called him “sex on a stick”—whatever that meant—but as he walked into Ambrose’s party he felt like an aristodouche. Leather pants? How had he ever let the saleswoman talk him into leather pants?

The guys would mock him, and he’d pick up some poser sub, and he’d burn the pants when he got home. Whatever.

He walked in the door without bothering to ring the bell. The driveway was already full of cars, so he knew that if he was interrupting anything, it was meant to be seen anyway.

Konstantin, looking like his casual yet evil self, was standing in the foyer talking to two women in short latex costumes. He caught sight of Banner almost immediately, dropped the conversation, and came to him. They hugged hard and thumped each other’s backs.

“Banner, you ugly fucking bastard! I got into town last night, and there wasn’t even one message from you. Why do you hate me?” Even though he was ignoring them now, the women lingered nearby. His rough good looks attracted them more than his money. Something about Konstantin whispered about danger and perversion, and women were always trailing in his wake. That and his accent, which was always heavier when he came home from seeing his babushka.

“Because you don’t make me feel pretty anymore.” He headbutted him with moderate force, and seconds later they were wrestling each other on the floor. The women gasped and got out of their way.

“Children, children. This is an adult party. Do I need to call your parents?” They paused, midgrapple, and Banner saw Ambrose looking down at him. “You never got back to me. I was wondering if you were going to come up with another lame excuse to bail on the festivities.”

“And miss rolling around with a sweaty man in your foyer? I wouldn’t dream of it.”

“If only there was Jell-O.” Kate sighed wistfully as she stepped out from behind Ambrose.

Ambrose and Konstantin guffawed, but Banner just stared.

Kate caught the way he was looking at her and reddened. She glanced at Ambrose, who had started talking to Konstantin about something and ignored her. She knelt at his side, out of the way.

Unlike the two girls Konstantin had been talking to, Kate wore a simple black dress that clung to her lush curves. Around her throat there was an elegant black leather collar. He wanted to rip it off of her neck and shove it down Ambrose’s throat.

His friends were discussing something, but their words weren’t registering. How could Ambrose ignore her for so long? Didn’t he want to touch her—or drag her off somewhere private?

Kate avoided his gaze, but her cheeks were pink, as though she knew he was watching. She shivered, even though it wasn’t cold. Her lips parted, and the urge to kiss her, take her, fuck her mouth, make her come, overwhelmed him.

As if Ambrose wasn’t all over her! Idiot. Although if he was, Banner probably would have wanted to hit him. Was this how things were between the two of them? Their connection seemed nonexistent, even though the relationship was still new. Ambrose should have been very attentive, but he was ignoring her. Banner had talked to them individually, and they both said they were crazy about each other, but seeing them together was telling him a different story.

What was the world coming to when he couldn’t trust his best friend to dom Kate properly?

Worried about what he might say if he stayed, he walked past them into the great room. People mingled, chatted, checked out the equipment Ambrose kept exclusively for parties. The music blaring from the sound system and the low lighting lent the room a dungeonish feel. Did Kate like playing in public or pseudopublic? Was Ambrose going to strip her down and flog her in front of guests? Sometimes Ambrose liked to show off.

“Hi, are you Banner?” A tiny slip of a girl appeared his elbow. Had Ambrose checked her ID? She looked like a teenager.

“Yes. Can I help you?” It came out colder than he’d meant it to, but there was no fixing that.

The girl flushed and bit her lip, which only made her look younger. Creepy. He knew Ambrose had a schoolgirl fetish, but even he wouldn’t play with a girl that looked this underage.

“I’m Gwen. Ambrose said I should introduce myself.” She looked around as though she hoped someone would save her. “Sorry, this is very forward of me.” Her gaze dropped, and he felt bad for being standoffish. She was a guest at Ambrose’s party. There was no need to be rude.

“Sorry, Gwen. I was off in my own little world. I don’t remember seeing you around before. Are you new to the area?” Keep it businesslike and maybe she’d wander off.

“I’m from D.C. I just moved here for work about a month ago. I was surprised there’s such a big kink community here.” She smiled carefully, exuding submission.

“No offense, but are you old enough to be here?”

Her chuckle was quiet and innocuous. “Yes, Sir. Sorry for laughing. I get asked that a lot, but I’m twenty-three. I graduated from Washington State and worked at government offices there before being relocated here.”

Smart, cute, apparently interested—so why wasn’t he even slightly interested in her? Because of how young she looked? If she was at the party, Ambrose had checked her background. If he’d suggested she introduce herself to Banner, she was probably deeply submissive and available. There was no harm in playing with her for a while, if she was into public play.

Banner opened his mouth to ask her if she wanted a soda. “I’m sorry. You seem really nice, but I’m not in a good place right now.” Where had that come from?

She smiled sympathetically and laid a hand on his arm. “Recent breakup?”

Automatically, he scanned the room and found Kate kneeling at Ambrose’s side. He was talking to yet another guest and when her gaze found Banner, she quickly looked away, as though he’d caught her. She bowed her head.