Finding Master Right (26 page)

Of course. Damn.

Ambrose got up and closed the door, then reclaimed his chair. Great. This visit just kept getting better.

“I know it’s only been about a month, and Kate’s training has been going really well, but I think it’s stalled.” He scratched at his head. “She’s a dream sub, really. She does anything I ask her to without complaining. Sure, she brats sometimes, but you know I like that.”

Visions of Kate giving Ambrose a blow job in the parking lot of the farmer’s market sprung to mind. He knew the two of them had a standing date to go there every weekend, not to mention the fact that they’d gone to almost every classy restaurant in town together.

He should have taken her out on a date or something himself, when he’d had a chance. It was too late for that now. Hopefully, Ambrose was more of a gentleman with her than he’d been.

Did he hold doors for her? Did he bring her flowers? Or did he finger fuck her while the waiters weren’t paying attention?

“Are you okay?”

“I think I’m catching a cold or something.” Maybe that explanation would cover the jealous heat he could feel creeping up his neck.

“That sucks.” Ambrose grimaced. “So, she kneels like a pro, knows the positions I want her to know, walks at my elbow, makes good eye contact, pays attention to my cues.”

Fuck, what was Ambrose doing with her? She wanted to be a submissive, not a slave.

“I can imagine some of that went over like a lead balloon.” Banner tried not to look annoyed, but he really should have been paying closer attention to the girl’s needs. “Submissive, not slave. That’s why I gave her to
you
, remember?”

“Yeah, that’s mostly stuff she learned from you, though, dickhead. I’m not usually that thorough with protocol.”

She was still doing the things he’d taught her?

“I saved you some work. What’s the issue?”

Ambrose sucked at his even white teeth and leaned forward in his chair. “She’s not . . . fully submitting to me. You know what I mean? I can feel her holding back.”

Traitorous hope welled in his chest. Maybe she didn’t like Ambrose as much as she had been saying.

“She was doing that with me too. Maybe you’re not the right guy for her either.” They stared at each other in silence until it became uncomfortable.

“So now you want me to give her to Konstantin to see if
they
hit it off?” Ambrose’s expression went bland. With him that meant angry.

His guts twisted. Envy was making him say stupid things. “Well, no. I . . .”

“Just because you’re lazy and self-centered, doesn’t mean I’ll give up on her too.” Ambrose said quietly. Fighting words. “Kicking a new sub aside because she doesn’t learn fast enough is cruel. Not the behavior I expected from you, of all people.”

“It wasn’t like that!” Was that what Ambrose had been thinking? “I told you, she needs someone who isn’t as extreme. The idea of being a slave horrifies her. Would you force a girl you were in love with to try your kinks if she wasn’t into it? Kate deserves more consideration than that.” He hated the way his voice had wobbled when he’d said her name, but maybe Ambrose wouldn’t notice.

“She’s a grown woman. Why wouldn’t you let her decide for herself?” Ambrose grew quiet again, studying him. “You know what? I really like Kate. I enjoy domming her.”

It knocked the wind out of Banner’s lungs. “I can’t listen to details. Please.” He held up his hands, and Ambrose glared at him.

“It’s still early in my relationship with her. I’m not in love with her. Yet. And I doubt she’s in love with me.” Ambrose sighed and shook his head. “Why don’t you just talk to her and try to work this out? You’re being an idiot. What happened to your interpersonal skills?”

“I’m not good enough for her,” Banner blurted.

Ambrose’s brows shot up. “Whoa. Fuck. Where the hell is that coming from?”

“Rook.”

Several emotions registered on Ambrose’s face in succession. Mostly confusion and disbelief. “Your baby brother, the kid who idolizes you, said that you weren’t good enough for Kate?”

“No. He said he thinks that was why I gave her to you. That I think I don’t deserve her. Maybe he’s right.” Banner wrapped his hands around the cup of hot chocolate and realized that his hands had gone cold.

“See? Now that’s love talking. It’s a crazy, creepy love. But it’s love. You can work on your shit. She’s a patient girl.”

Banner considered that, but the truth was his crap shouldn’t be her problem. She was a counselor, but it wasn’t fair to expect her to be
his
counselor.

He struggled for words, but he drew a blank. “If you love something, set it free.”

Ambrose growled in exasperation. He crumpled a piece of paper and threw it at Banner’s face. It bounced off and landed in his lap.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake. You’re right. You are an idiot. You don’t deserve her.”

Banner brought his hand up to his chest, feeling as though he’d been stabbed.

Ambrose pushed his chair back, rose, and walked out.

Chapter 15

“That’s good. Now open them wider.” Ambrose bent down and tapped her thigh with his forefinger.

Kate rolled her eyes but complied. How long had they been doing this? Positions, protocol, form. She felt as if she were in fucking ballet class or something. Even Banner wasn’t this picky. Why did it feel like Ambrose was stalling? They hadn’t even played yet. No sex, no bondage, not even any spanking. Fuck, she hadn’t even taken her clothes off in front of him yet! Was the man a eunuch?

Ambrose nodded in approval, then sat back in the recliner, leaving her on the carpeted floor. “You’re a quick learner.”

“We’ve only been doing it a month,” she muttered.

He didn’t hear her, or at least pretended not to. She waited, impatiently, for his next command, trying her best to look sexy and desirable. With Banner, big doe eyes always worked. She looked up at him, widening her eyes, and bit her lip.

He looked interested for a moment. Hope blossomed. But then his expression went blank again and he said, “Will you get me a soda from the fridge, love?”

Her shoulders sagged, and she stifled a disappointed sigh. She hadn’t signed up to be a service sub, but at least it was something to do. “Yes, Your Majesty,” she grumbled as she rose from the floor.

The sarcastic remark would’ve earned a punishment with Banner. Of course, with Banner he wouldn’t be wasting their time together having her fetch him drinks. And if he had happened to ask it of her for some reason, she didn’t think she would have minded.

Ambrose only chuckled at her brattiness. She threw him a glare, hoping to get a rise out of him, something,
anything
. Things had grown stale between them fast. They’d had chemistry to start. He was Dommy like Banner had said, but they never actually
did
anything. It was just instruction. Over and over. He nitpicked every form, every position, every action. Frustration was mounting. If she didn’t masturbate to thoughts of Banner nearly every night, she’d have died from boredom by now.

She walked back into the living room to see the TV had been turned on and fought the urge to chuck the bottle of Jennings Cola at his head. Why didn’t he want to have sex? Was she unattractive? Did she smell bad?

Sighing, she knelt back on the floor. Ambrose was watching the nature channel. Something about ant communities.

I can’t believe I shaved my legs for this.

He’d wined and dined her. He was charming and funny and freakin’ hot. The first couple weeks, he’d taken her through his rules and the positions he preferred for his subs. She’d done exactly what Banner had taught her—complied with minimal resistance, acted submissive, asked what she should wear. But then things just stalled. Ambrose wasn’t as controlling as Banner, which was exactly what she wanted. Or so she’d thought.

But now she craved dominance. And not in the form of how many inches apart her knees should be when kneeling. She wanted a rough hand in her hair. She wanted to be bent over something and threatened. She even wanted to hear the sound of a belt being pulled from its loops. She could almost smell the leather, hear Banner’s ominous footsteps as he walked toward her.

Ambrose felt more like her teacher than her Dom. He didn’t take control like Banner did. He didn’t demand her submission. And he definitely didn’t take ownership of her.

God, she was losing her mind. Being owned was exactly what she’d been protesting—the whole reason she and Banner could never work. Maybe it was sexual frustration making her yearn for a Master. For Banner’s mastery. For the
click
of the leash onto the collar around her neck. His collar.

Her chest tightened. She felt so lost. She wanted to make things work with Ambrose. He had so much potential. Why was he avoiding playing with her? Did he find her ugly? Tears pricked at her eyes, but she blinked them back.

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.