happened.
“Then come somewhere else with me,” he tried. “Someplace that isn’t work.” Michael was finished with his fly, was shoving his hair back and capturing it in a band he’d had around his wrist.
“Rob, I forgave you.” It was impossible to tell what color his eyes were in the bar lighting; they looked as colorless as ice. “Hell, I forgave you a long time ago. But forgiving you doesn’t mean I want to have a relationship with you.”
Rob clenched his fists, resisting the need to grab Michael and make him stop, make him listen and make him give over everything he had, everything he was, to Rob.
“And I don’t think it’s a good idea for us to do scenes together, either.” Pants done, hair pulled back, Michael looked completely cool and unaffected. The only sign of the melting submissive of five minutes ago was the red, swollen mouth. The mouth Michael wouldn’t let him kiss.
Michael was walking away, turning his back on Rob and vanishing into the crowd on the dance floor. Rob stood, feeling stupid and slow, for a long time. So, he needed a Plan C. Because Rob would be damned if Michael was going to turn his back on him again without some serious consequences.
Chapter Five
Michael stood in the small dressing area set aside for club employees and dragged his hands through his hair. Maybe if he pulled hard enough, he’d shake loose some common sense.
A week had passed. Seven days. And he could still taste Rob. Could still feel the heat of the Dom along his spine. It didn’t help that the man was still practically living at the club. It seemed every time Michael turned around, Rob was there tempting, taunting.
He didn’t know how many more times he could say no to the man, not when he wanted to say yes so fucking badly.
Rob was out there now, in his customary position, leaning back against the bar, nursing a glass of mineral water and lime. Michael had managed to avoid him so far tonight, but he knew it was just a matter of time before that dark green gaze locked on him like a heat-seeking missile, and he’d be in the line of fire once again.
He needed a plan; a fail-safe way to keep his distance.
“You are well?” The deep voice startled Michael out of his obsessing, and he turned to face Gregori, Velvet Ice’s head of security and submissive to the lovely Mistress Megan.
“I’m fine. Just thinking too hard.” He managed what he hoped was a genuine smile, and tugged his hair back in its customary club at the back of his neck.
“The new Dom,” Gregori rumbled thoughtfully. “He’s bothering you. Should I intercede?”
That would be wonderful. Awful. Fuck. “No, man. Rob and I have some history, and it wasn’t all pretty, but there’s nothing you need to step in on.” His smile was a little more authentic this time. “Thanks, though. It’s good to know someone has my back.”
Gregori smiled back and cuffed him on the back of the head. “Well, my Mistress is fond of you, and I do not have so many friends that I would allow one of them to be harassed.”
“I’m fond of your Mistress, as well.” Michael gave Gregori a playful shove, which didn’t even make the man sway. The big Russian was built like a brick wall, and was about as solid as one. “And I’m proud to be your friend, you big brute.”
So, he was feeling a bit better when he left the changing area and slinked out onto the dance floor. Better enough that he barely flinched when he found himself dancing face-to-face with Rob.
This time, Rob’s eyes were narrowed, and there was something … stern in the man’s face that made Michael’s knees weak and his cock hard. Maybe that was why, when Rob took him by the arm and pulled him off the dance floor, he didn’t resist.
Rob waited until they were in a relatively quiet corner of the room before speaking. “I accept it when you say you don’t want to share a scene, or anything else, with me.” Okay, there was something wrong about that statement, but
“Then come somewhere else with me,” he tried. “Someplace that isn’t work.” Michael was finished with his fly, was shoving his hair back and capturing it in a band he’d had around his wrist.
“Rob, I forgave you.” It was impossible to tell what color his eyes were in the bar lighting; they looked as colorless as ice. “Hell, I forgave you a long time ago. But forgiving you doesn’t mean I want to have a relationship with you.”
Rob clenched his fists, resisting the need to grab Michael and make him stop, make him listen and make him give over everything he had, everything he was, to Rob.
“And I don’t think it’s a good idea for us to do scenes together, either.” Pants done, hair pulled back, Michael looked completely cool and unaffected. The only sign of the melting submissive of five minutes ago was the red, swollen mouth. The mouth Michael wouldn’t let him kiss.
Michael was walking away, turning his back on Rob and vanishing into the crowd on the dance floor. Rob stood, feeling stupid and slow, for a long time. So, he needed a Plan C. Because Rob would be damned if Michael was going to turn his back on him again without some serious consequences.
Chapter Five
Michael stood in the small dressing area set aside for club employees and dragged his hands through his hair. Maybe if he pulled hard enough, he’d shake loose some common sense.
A week had passed. Seven days. And he could still taste Rob. Could still feel the heat of the Dom along his spine. It didn’t help that the man was still practically living at the club. It seemed every time Michael turned around, Rob was there tempting, taunting.
He didn’t know how many more times he could say no to the man, not when he wanted to say yes so fucking badly.
Rob was out there now, in his customary position, leaning back against the bar, nursing a glass of mineral water and lime. Michael had managed to avoid him so far tonight, but he knew it was just a matter of time before that dark green gaze locked on him like a heat-seeking missile, and he’d be in the line of fire once again.
He needed a plan; a fail-safe way to keep his distance.
“You are well?” The deep voice startled Michael out of his obsessing, and he turned to face Gregori, Velvet Ice’s head of security and submissive to the lovely Mistress Megan.
“I’m fine. Just thinking too hard.” He managed what he hoped was a genuine smile, and tugged his hair back in its customary club at the back of his neck.
“The new Dom,” Gregori rumbled thoughtfully. “He’s bothering you. Should I intercede?”
That would be wonderful. Awful. Fuck. “No, man. Rob and I have some history, and it wasn’t all pretty, but there’s nothing you need to step in on.” His smile was a little more authentic this time. “Thanks, though. It’s good to know someone has my back.”
Gregori smiled back and cuffed him on the back of the head. “Well, my Mistress is fond of you, and I do not have so many friends that I would allow one of them to be harassed.”
“I’m fond of your Mistress, as well.” Michael gave Gregori a playful shove, which didn’t even make the man sway. The big Russian was built like a brick wall, and was about as solid as one. “And I’m proud to be your friend, you big brute.”
So, he was feeling a bit better when he left the changing area and slinked out onto the dance floor. Better enough that he barely flinched when he found himself dancing face-to-face with Rob.
This time, Rob’s eyes were narrowed, and there was something … stern in the man’s face that made Michael’s knees weak and his cock hard. Maybe that was why, when Rob took him by the arm and pulled him off the dance floor, he didn’t resist.
Rob waited until they were in a relatively quiet corner of the room before speaking. “I accept it when you say you don’t want to share a scene, or anything else, with me.” Okay, there was something wrong about that statement, but
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