Finding Master Right (28 page)

“You know, just because you’ve never asked for her back doesn’t mean it couldn’t happen.” Konstantin was watching them, too.

“You’ve been talking to Ambrose?”

“Ambrose picked me up at the airport. I know all of it. Maybe more than you.”

Of course. They didn’t keep many secrets from one another.

The noise was starting to give him a headache. Kate was leaning against Ambrose like a woman in love. He pulled her to where the girls were dancing and started to move suggestively with her.

“Look at her. She really likes him.”

“I don’t know about that. She really liked you more, from what he’s told me.”

“So what? I’m supposed to stroll over there and ask him to give her back? Like she doesn’t get to have an opinion?”

“Why don’t you try asking for permission to play with his sub, to start with? She is wearing his collar. Just because it’s Ambrose, doesn’t mean the rules change.”

“I never should have let her go. What the fuck is my problem?”

“I think you spend too much time worrying about other people.” Konstantin draped an arm around his shoulder and watched the two girls he’d been with earlier as they danced together provocatively and cast sidelong glances at him. Like always, Konstantin had an audience trying to keep his attention. “If you want something good in your life other than Rook, you can’t wait for someone else to hand it to you. You gave up art to be a good son. Ending things with a girl because you think you’re no good for her isn’t giving yourself, or her, much credit. Trust me—I’ve been watching her stare at you. I think you broke her heart.”

Fuck. Trying to be suave about it, Banner glanced back at Kate. Ambrose spotted him, then grabbed Kate by the back of her hair and kissed her, hard.

Bastard. Ambrose was mocking him.

When they broke away from each other, Kate stepped back and crossed her arms.

The two girls Konstantin would likely fuck later came over and led him onto the dance floor where they made a show of kissing and groping him to the throbbing beat.

What would be worse—letting Ambrose have Kate or admitting that he’d been wrong? Did she actually want him though? Ambrose’s words about Kate being a grown woman who could make her own decisions repeated in his head.

The next time he looked over, Ambrose was taking Kate into the hall that led to the bedrooms. Banner booked it across the room, then followed their retreat down the hall, determined to ask to play with her, even if he was cock-blocking his best friend.

“You have a lovely little thing on your leash,” he called to Ambrose’s back.

Ambrose turned and measured him with a neutral gaze. “Thank you. She was a gift from a friend. One of my two best friends, in fact.”

“Konstantin suggested I talk to you.” Smooth had deserted him this evening. The hallway was dim, making it difficult to make out Ambrose’s expression.

Choice time. Did he say he had to leave, or did he man up?

“Why? Is Kon the next one in line for Kate? Line forms to the left. Mind the velvet ropes.” Sarcasm made the statement bitter and ugly.

“I was just wondering if you’d be interested in . . .” The pause hung clumsily in the air. “Loaning her to me.”

The request seemed to surprise Ambrose. “As soon as these people leave, I’m going to fuck her. Do you think you can get her back to me before then?”

He didn’t need that visual, but there it was. “Yes.”

“I don’t know. You never did return my Metallica CD in tenth grade.” Ambrose leaned against the wall, almost bumping the framed print of the dogs playing pool. It went well with the velvet Elvis farther down the hall.

“I won’t leave her in a Discman at the park.” Banner kept his words light, trying to cut the hostility he could feel coming from his friend. “I promise.”

“No sexual contact.”

Banner winced. He never would have taken such a liberty with anyone else’s collared sub, and Ambrose knew that.

His friend unclipped the leash from her collar. “Go with Banner. But don’t give him one of your hot, nasty blow jobs, even if he begs.”

Jealousy and irritation streamed through Banner, and he held out his hand to Kate. She took it, even though she was frowning in confusion.

“What do you want from me, Sir?” Her gaze shifted uneasily between Banner and Ambrose. “Where are we going?”

“You’re going to come play with me in the other room. Are you okay with that?”

She nodded, but her hand shook in his. Ambrose went up the back stairwell, leaving them alone.

“Have you and Ambrose done any impact play yet?” There wasn’t much he could do with her BDSM-wise that didn’t involve sexual contact. Impact play seemed the most impersonal. He could get through that without losing control. Couldn’t he?

“No, Sir.” Her eyes were luminous even in the dim light of the hall.

“Take off those damn shoes.”

Her whimper as she kicked them off gave him an instant hard-on, and he let himself crowd her, but only slightly.

Not mine. Not mine.

Kate turned her face aside, exposing her neck. The scent of her shampoo, mixed with her own scent, coy and teasing, made him want to pick her up and fuck her against the wall—party be damned.

“What’s the matter, Kate? Do I make you nervous?” He growled, not quite in her ear, but apparently it had the desired effect. She melted against the wall, her posture abject submission.

“Yes, Sir. Well, maybe. But it’s not just that.” She was so close that he could feel her breath on his face when she spoke. Minty, warm.

“What, then?” He caged her between his arms, his dick begging to be pressed against her, if nothing else. Even that was against the rules though. He wouldn’t betray Ambrose.

“You’re not allowed to touch me,” Kate whispered. “But I need to come.” She begged him with her eyes.

He frowned. “Ambrose said no.”

She sagged. “I know. He doesn’t let me.”

“Fuck other men? Of course not.”

“No, I mean he doesn’t let me come.”

Anger rose, even though it was none of his business. “Why?”

“I don’t deserve it, I guess.” She shrugged.

He wasn’t above using a girl for his pleasure, but to
never
let her get off? That didn’t sound like Ambrose’s kink. And was it affecting her self-esteem? He could almost hear it in her voice—doubt mixed with frustration. His heart twisted. What was Ambrose thinking? Maybe he’d talk to him about it later, if he could figure out how to ask without seeming like an interfering ex-boyfriend.

Not that he wanted Ambrose to touch Kate ever again. The statement about fucking her later nagged at him. It had been crass and obviously designed to bother him, and it had worked.

“That’s between you and Mr. Fabulous,” Banner grumbled, then walked away. What he wanted to do was hold her, tell her how perfect she was, then make her come all night so she knew it without a fucking doubt. He pushed those thoughts away. This was going to kill him.

He could feel her walking two steps behind, like a good girl. Everything she did now was just fucking perfect. Almost as though she’d been trained to suit his preferences.

Damn it, Ambrose.

The great room had turned into a different party. People had begun shedding clothing while he’d been down the hall. A few women walked around topless now, wearing only underwear, and Banner was one of the few men still wearing a shirt.

Kate smothered a laugh. “I think you’re overdressed.”

“It’s funny you should say that.” He unbuttoned his white dress shirt and removed it, sticking it on top of the entertainment unit. When he turned to Kate she was staring at his chest as if she’d never seen it before. “What?”

She averted her eyes and smiled to herself. “Uh, nothing. You’re just . . . well-made.”

“Well-made?” He barked a laugh. “Thanks. I’ll have to remember to thank my mother.”

Her gaze drifted lower. “I thought you had a no leather pants rule.”

“It was more a guideline than a rule.”

“Hmm.” Kate had gotten over her momentary bout of shyness and ogled him. She reached out a hand and drew a tickling line from his side to just below his navel, following the waistline of his pants. Hopefully she wouldn’t notice the bulge she was encouraging.

“Do they look stupid?”

“No. On a lesser man they’d look pretentious, but on you they’re . . . quite . . . fitting.” Her eyes had slid to his obvious hard-on. Amused, she covered her face with her hands, as though she couldn’t believe what she’d said.

“Ha-ha, funny girl. Are you wearing a bra under that?”

Her amusement faded instantly. “Well, no. I couldn’t with this dress.”

“Take your dress off.”

“What?” she squeaked. “Here?”

“Now.”

“But . . .”

“Are you wearing underwear?”

Her mouth opened but no sound came out. “I . . . Yes.”

“Take off the dress.”

“No, I couldn’t.” She clutched the bodice of her dress as if she thought he’d tear it off. The thought had crossed his mind.

He lowered his voice to a growl. “Are you going to be a bad girl, Kate?”

Her gaze flew to his, and he was lost in the warm, green depths. The rebellion there faded, dissipated, and was gone.

“Such a good girl. Are you going to let everyone see your pretty body?”

Kate dropped to her knees, but didn’t break eye contact.

“Noooo.”

“No, what?”

“Please, no, Master.” It was said so quietly he almost missed it. But there it was. The word buzzed between them like a hornet’s nest.

His erection was tucked uncomfortably down one leg of his pants. Kate rested a hand on his thigh, right under the distinct outline of his cock against the snug leather. She stared at it, then bit her lip and looked back up at him.

Fuuuuuuck. She was hotter in real life than she was in his spank bank. If she made one wrong move, his dick was going to go off and fill his boot.

It looked as though no one was paying attention to them. Some people were dancing, some were watching the Dom flog the sub on the saltire, a few were watching a girl getting spanked by a Dom who looked displeased. They had privacy in the small crowd since they weren’t doing anything with visual interest.

Banner cupped her chin. “I want to see you.”

“But . . .” She groped for words. “I’m not very sexy compared to some of these girls.” Kate glanced at the girls dancing with Konstantin.

Before she could say another word, Banner grabbed her arm and hauled her roughly to her feet. “What did I tell you would happen if you insulted yourself again?” He frog-marched her to a vacant chair. This lesson seemed to be harder than any other mental adjustment for most female submissives. What was it with women being so hard on themselves? Didn’t they know that most men didn’t expect them to be perfect? Men weren’t.

He sat down and sighed, then hauled the hesitant woman facedown over his lap. Although she squeaked, she didn’t fight. In this position, the edge of her dress barely covered her ass.

Slowly, he lifted her hem revealing lace boy-leg panties that showed a lot of cheek.

“Everyone is looking at you, Kate. You might not like your body, but there are several men in the room fantasizing about coming on this ass.” He smoothed a hand over it, and she groaned in embarrassed arousal. “The girls in the latex are checking it out too. I wonder what they’d do to you if I let them have you.”

“Don’t let other people touch me. Please, Master.”

No one? Not even Ambrose? He doubted she meant it that way.

“If I was allowed to, I’d shove my finger in your pussy and make you come in front of all these nice people. Would you like that?”

“I don’t care who’s watching, Master. I need to come.”

Why was he doing this to himself?

He smacked her ass. She gasped then pressed back, looking for the next blow.

“You like this too much. It’s supposed to be a punishment.”

“I’m sorry.”

“You will be.”

Kate cried out even though he hadn’t hit her again, and she squirmed on his lap. The scent of her arousal was making him crazy—urging him to do what he wanted. Shoving his cock into her a few hundred times wouldn’t break the no sexual contact rule, would it?

He barely tapped her the next few times, and he chuckled at her adorable growl of frustration.

“What’s the matter?”

“I . . . uh . . . remember you hitting harder than this, Master.”

“And when do you remember that, Trouble? Do you think of me punishing you when you masturbate?”

“Oh, fuck.” She groaned and hid her face from onlookers.

Seriously? He’d just meant to embarrass her. From her reaction, though, it was true. She thought of him when she masturbated?

Banner peered around them, glad that Ambrose wasn’t close enough to hear, even though he was back in the room and watching.

Rather than force a traitorous answer out of her, he punished her ass, spanking her until she submitted.

“Should you ever insult the way you look?”

“No, Master,” she whispered, hanging docilely over his lap.

He pulled her up and sat her rosy ass on his knees. Although she gasped, she didn’t try to get away. When he wrapped his arms around her, she laid her head on his shoulder, and he almost melted, even though he was horny as fuck.

“Don’t insult your body. Insulting yourself implies your Dom has bad taste.”

“See?” said a man standing near them with a collared girl in the crook of his arm. “Next time you do it, this is what you’re going to get.”

“Yes, Sir.”

The people around them dispersed. Show over.

Banner gave her a squeeze. “Now, you need to look at me and say ‘I’m sexy and everyone wants me.’”

She looked deep into his eyes, and he wondered if he’d be able to pull away if she tried to kiss him.

A spark of amusement glinted in her eye. “You’re sexy and everyone wants you.”

Brat.

Before she could react, he leaned her back, yanked up her dress, and smacked her pussy.

The gasp he won from her was almost a moan.

“You’re lucky I don’t have a cane within reach, Trouble. Now say what you’re supposed to say before I make you a very sorry girl.”