Finding Master Right (27 page)

“Yeah, that was a bunch of bullshit,” Janine said, catching her attention. “You’re both being stupid.”

“What?” Janine was the one person she could count on for support. They bitched about men, vented about work, and watched trashy reality TV to make themselves feel better about their lives. They definitely didn’t call each other out on stuff.

“You two are good together. You just don’t see it.”

“I’m not what he wants.”

“Bullshit!”

She shook her head. “You don’t understand.”

“I’d spank you myself if I had an ounce of dominance in me,” she scolded.

Even the lame threat didn’t make Kate laugh.

Janine stuffed a bite of ice cream in her mouth. Kate had let the rest of hers turn to soup, feeling nauseated with anxiety.

“I’d get Chris to spank you if I didn’t think Banner would blow a gasket.”

Kate froze.
What?

“It’d be hot to watch anyway,” Janine said, more to herself.

“Why would Banner care what anyone does to me? He’s the one who threw me at Ambrose.”

Janine scraped the bottom of her bowl, then licked the spoon clean. “Yeah, well, he’s been moping around for weeks. You should see him. It’s so obvious he’s jealous.”

Kate rejected the idea immediately. She didn’t mean that much to him. If she did, he wouldn’t have been encouraging her relationship with Ambrose every time she called or dropped by. He always seemed so happy for them. Maybe she’d been exaggerating about how well things were going because she wanted to show she’d moved on and that they could still be friends. But really, she was lying to herself. According to her fantasies, she hadn’t moved on. And staying friends was killing her. With Ambrose not putting out, and her constantly comparing him to Banner, her sex drive was through the roof. It was a good thing they hadn’t seen each other in a while or she’d have trouble not jumping him.

“No.” She shook her head. “There must be another reason.”

Janine grinned. “It’s all about you, baby.”

If that were true—and that was a big “if”—if she told him she was ready for more, maybe not twenty-four-seven, but more dominance, would he consider taking her back?

But they were never really together to begin with. She was supposed to be learning from him, not falling in love with him.

Shit. Did she love him? Her emotions were too fucked up to say for sure. Right now, she just wanted to feel his arms around her, to breathe in his scent of soap, to know that there was someone in the world who would protect her at any cost. She fought back the urge to drive to his house just to see his face and hear his voice. Sexual frustration mixed with self-doubt and too much chocolate was a recipe for bad decisions.

“Keep resisting if you want to,” Janine said. “But it’s only hurting you both.”

Chapter 16

Around them the hum of the crowd faded, leaving Banner and the artwork on the wall in a swathe of silence. At his shoulder, Rook stood, and Banner could feel his brother become similarly mesmerized.

The subject of the piece knelt, androgynous in its suffering, a supplicant to a higher power. A sliver of hope lay behind the figure, a subtle beam of sunlight filtering through heavy cloud. Banner wanted the subject to turn and look, but s/he was too immersed in what was being experienced to see anything external. Or was the ray of light actually the subject? He could almost feel its frustration at being ignored.

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.

“Ah, that’s rough. She’s here with someone else?”

Damn, he’d forgotten about the girl. “Yeah. I fucked things up, and now she’s collared to my best friend. We were never really together, exactly.”

A more adventurous couple had claimed the biggest piece of equipment, and the man buckled the woman’s wrists and ankles to the solid wooden X. Watching kept him from oversharing all of the words that fought to free themselves from his mouth. This girl didn’t need to listen to his problems. She was there for a party. He refused to be the guy who got drunk and talked about his unrequited love all night—not that Ambrose served alcohol at this type of party.

“Well, maybe I’ll see you around. Nice to meet you.” Gwen nodded politely and walked off toward the kitchen.

He didn’t bother to watch her retreating back, or even check out her ass. Maybe he should just go home.

“What the fuck, man?” Ambrose was suddenly there, looking pissed. “That girl has been waiting to meet you for days. Did you blow her off?”

“She’s . . . not my type.”

“Is she too hot for you? Too submissive?” Kate was two steps behind Ambrose, which meant his friend couldn’t see the strained awkwardness on her face.

Ambrose followed Banner’s gaze to Kate. “Oh, for fucksakes.” He fished in the pocket of his cargo pants and pulled out a leash, then clipped the end to Kate’s collar and glared at Banner. “Don’t stare at my girl, unless you want a black eye. You had your chance.”

He led her away, and Banner noted the way she walked. Graceful, submissive, proud to be on Ambrose’s leash. Fuck, had he been wrong about her? The back of her little black dress was cut away, leaving her skin bare right down to just above the cleft of her ass. Ambrose slid his hand up her back. The small sign of affection seemed so much more intimate when it was skin on skin. She leaned into him and Banner groaned.