Page 61 of Masters of Control

There was her dad and his new girlfriend, and Sam’s upcoming holiday alone. Even though she didn’t say so, he could tell she felt a little weird about it.

There was Noelle and Iris. She’d mentioned that Noelle had gotten upset with her and was convinced that Iris was telling Connor stories about Noelle. That had been easy for Q to deny. Connor just didn’t connect easily with people—which apparently, was what Sam had told Noelle.

Q had bitten his lip against commenting that maybe Noelle was projecting since she had plenty to say about Iris. Sam didn’t need any more pressure on her right now, so he was stepping carefully until he figured out what was bothering her.

It could also be her job and the financial stuff, which he really hated. He could help her but he didn’t know how to offer her money without it sounding skeevy. He was also pretty sure she wouldn’t take it if he did, which was why he’d gone the slightly underhanded route with talking to Patrick about her club membership.

At least tonight, he was able to give her something that she couldn’t turn down because it was a Christmas present.

“I know we’ve been here every week for months now, but this feels different,” Sam said as they walked up the stairs. They’d gone in through the rear entrance of Marquis, skipping the restaurant portion, though they could still hear the people in there having dinner.

“Maybe because it’s a Friday instead of a Monday, and you’re not having dinner with Morgan and Noelle beforehand.” Q squeezed her fingers as he made the suggestion, glancing over to meet her gaze.

She laughed.

“There is that. It’s a little weird knowing we’ll be eating in the upstairs room and watching rather than participating… but like, good weird,” she quickly tacked on to reassure him, and Q smiled.

He wasn’t worried that she’d called it ‘weird.’ She was right. It felt different, and a little odd to be doing something different but in a good way.

When they reached the top of the steps and moved into the lobby, Q helped her with her coat and barely held back a low whistle. When he’d picked her up, she’d come down from her apartment, all he’d been able to see were her fishnet stockings but her coat had hid the rest of her outfit.

It was worth seeing.

She hadn’t worn a corset to class since that first one, but tonight, she was wearing a dark blue one that made her skin and hair glow gold in contrast. Her breasts were pushed up into a tantalizing shelf, the deep cleavage inviting further inspection. Below the corset she had on a tight leather skirt that clung to her curves and ended maybe an inch or two below her ass. The fishnets she was wearing turned out to be thigh highs, and the tops hugged her thighs, leaving several inches of bare skin between the stockings and her skirt.

Whether she was wearing anything under the skirt was up for debate, but she definitely didn’t have anything under the corset.

Q’s fingers itched to stroke all that smooth, satiny skin.

It didn’t matter that they got frisky, one way or another, most nights they spent together. When she was partially covered up and partially exposed, he wanted to touch everywhere that was exposed, then peel off all her clothes so nothing was covered.

“Damn girl, you look amazing!”

Turning slightly, Q mock-glared at Freddy for stealing his line. Standing behind the podium, looking especially dapper in a light blue suit that matched his eyes perfectly and made his blond hair appear even blonder, Freddy grinned back at him, unrepentant.

Laughing, Sam twirled in between them, so they could both see all sides of her.

“Thank you,” she said to Freddy.

“I was going to say the same thing, but I was struck dumb for a moment,” Q complained, making her laugh again.

Pink tinged her cheeks in a blush at the compliment.

“Well, thank you, too,” she said, leaning forward to give him a kiss. The heels she was wearing made her just a touch taller than him, which he liked. Put his face closer to her boobs. Definitely not a bad thing.

“I can take your coats and bags. We’ll get your bags to your room while you enjoy dinner.” Freddy came around the desk to retrieve them, his eyes sparkling with mischief. He winked at Q. “You look pretty amazing, too.”

“Uh huh. I’m not going to forget that you stole my thunder.” Q handed over the coats, shaking his head as Freddy laughed, and Sam giggled again. “But thank you, anyway.”

“You’re welcome,” Freddy replied cheerfully. “I’m assuming you heard that we have guest performers tonight?”

“Yeah, all the way from Pittsburgh.” Sam grinned. “Master Mitch is having a fit about it, last I heard.”

“I can’t blame him.” Q shook his head. “If my parents were kinky, I wouldn’t want to know about it, much less having them perform at a club I belonged to.” The very thought made him want to scrub his eyeballs with bleach.

“Did you know there is science behind the idea that genetics play a part in whether we’re kinky?” Sam asked. Turning away from hanging up their coats, Freddy froze and stared at her. Q felt his jaw drop as he stared at her. She shrugged. “What? I read an article about it.”

“I’m pretty sure I could have gone my whole life without knowing that,” Freddy said fervently. “As a grown-ass adult, I have accepted that my parents had and probably still have sex, but I have never, ever wanted to think about what kind.”