“Why?” she shot back. “I would think it was obvious. You’re here playing your wicked games with yoursub du jourwhen only yesterday you were with me.”
“I don’t have asub du jour, whatever the fuck that even means. I’ve been working until five minutes ago.”
“And now you want to go play,” she accused.
“Yeah, with you,” he bit out, voice rough with meaning.
“When Master Leland sent you over here, you didn’t know it was me.”
“What does Leland have to do with this? You’re not making sense. I wasn’t sent. I was going to grab a beer. The heat and humidity are murder out here.”
Emily crossed her arms, not sure if she believed him.
His hands curled around her shoulders, and he brought her closer. “I wasn’t playing you yesterday, sweetheart. I want you in my life. The club and the lifestyle are part of who I am. But I planned to introduce you to it slowly. Carefully. At your pace.”
“We hadn’t spoken in eight years, Alec. Eight. And the first thing you do is throw me over your knee! What part of that was ‘slow’?”
“That couldn’t wait,” he said simply. “And I’m glad I didn’t—because whether you realize it or not, you gave me the green light to move forward.”
Her mouth fell open, and she sputtered, “I did no such thing.”
“You agreed to start over,” he reminded her quietly. “You were also the one dripping wet and squirming all over my lap.”
She couldn’t deny it. Thank God the darkness hid her mortification and the blush flaring across her face.
He cupped her cheek, gentling the moment. “After yesterday, the last thing on my mind was another submissive. Now, let’s talk about why you’re here.”
She clamped her mouth shut, gaze averted as she tried to come up with a plausible explanation. There wasn’t one other than the truth.
“The chef I work for caters here twice a week. I worked Saturday night. What I saw…” Heat shot up her neck, and she was afraid she would spontaneously combust from embarrassment. “What I saw made me curious. Especially after you… after we… on my couch.” She cleared her throat and somehow was able to continue. “Then the invitation showed up—”
All softness vanished as he barked, “You got an invitation? From who?”
“I don’t know. It wasn’t signed. Julia said it was probably someone who noticed me the other night.”
“Who did you talk to?”
“Everyone. It’s kind of necessary when you’re serving food and drinks. But no one stands out in my head.”
“With some of these horny bastards, a glance is all it takes.” His hand closed around hers, possessive and firm. “We’ll shut that down right now.”
“Wait, Alec. I was serious about wanting to go home.”
He turned so unexpectedly, she collided with his chest. She rebounded, nearly losing her footing, but his arm banded her waist, catching her before she fell.
“Not yet. You came here for answers. I can give them to you. And make it clear to whoever sent that invitation that you’re with me.”
“Am I?” she whispered, unsure, hope and fear warring in her chest.
“Baby. Didn’t we just clear that up?”
She bit her lip, uncertain.
“We’ve always been honest with one another. Haven’t we?”
Emily nodded. She’d never outright lied to him—except after Ethan’s funeral, which was a biggie, but there were extenuating circumstances.
“Yesterday only made everything more confusing,” she confessed.
