you?” he asked.
“Whiskey neat,” Kyler said.
“You got it,” Griffin said, smacking a napkin on the bar top. “How’s your night going?” He peered at Kyler as he reached for a glass and the bottle.
Shaking his head, Kyler sighed. “I don’t even know, my friend. I don’t even know.”
“Well I might have an idea,” came a deep voice. Quinton leaned into the bar right beside him, his big beefy arm braced against the marble.
“Meaning?” Kyler said, the other man’s tone raising his hackles.
Quinton tilted his head and gave him a hard look. “Saw Mia on her way out a few minutes ago.”
Griffin put the amber-filled tumbler down in front of Kyler. “Mia’s a sweetheart,” the bartender said. “Sure hope she joins full time.”
“You knew she was a temp?” Kyler asked. How had Griffin known that but he hadn’t? Kyler couldn’t decide if he was pissed to have let that catch him off guard, or if it was a blessing in disguise. Because now he wouldn’t have to keep fighting himself to stay away from her—and losing.
“You didn’t?” Griffin’s expression was skeptical, then incredulous. “I guess you two weren’t doing a whole lotta talking.”
Kyler tossed back a swig of the liquor, the heat tearing down his throat a needed distraction from the shit storm in his head.
“I wouldn’t be too sure about her joining,” Quinton said, his light brown gaze not letting up one bit. “She didn’t seem too happy when she left.”
What had Quinton seen or heard to make him come to that determination? Guilt slashed through Kyler, and worry, too. Goddamnit.
“Why? What the hell happened?” Griffin demanded, looking between the two men, anger rolling off of him. The guy had a raw spot when it came to a submissive being hurt or injured, one that he’d come by honestly.
“Dunno. Was hoping Master Kyler might shed some insight on that.” Quinton raised an eyebrow.
“Kyler?” Griffin asked, nailing him with a dark stare. “What am I missing here? Why was she unhappy?”
Barely restraining a groan, Kyler took another drink. “She can’t afford the membership.”
Griffin froze, a confused expression on his face. “Can’t afford…? But aren’t you…” Kyler didn’t need him to finish the thought. When a Dom claimed or collared a sub, he would pick up the membership costs for her. Clearly, the fact that Kyler had dominated Mia’s time here had been noticed. And conclusions about what that meant had been drawn.
“Yeah, I kinda thought so, too,” Quinton said, that damn eyebrow still arched.
“I don’t do relationships. You know this,” Kyler said, a big rock parked in his gut. The last thing he wanted to be doing was publicly hashing out the mess he’d made with Mia. He knew perfectly well what he’d done. And his chest felt fucking hollow for having done it. “So you thought wrong.”
“That’s some bullshit right there, Kyler. But tell yourself whatever you need to sleep at night, I guess.” Quinton turned toward Griffin. “Gimme a bottle of water, Griffin?”
“You know what, Quinton? When I need a life coach, I’ll fucking hire one.” Kyler emptied his glass and slammed it down on the bar.
“Yeah? By the time you do, one of the best things you ever had will be long gone. But suit yourself.” Quinton grabbed the water and saluted Griffin with the bottle. “Thanks, G.” He walked away.
“Damnit,” Kyler said, feeling like an asshole. He was batting zero tonight, wasn’t he? He looked up to find Griffin staring at him. “What?”
Griffin scratched at his jaw. “Saw that scene you did with her. The one where you took her while watching my demo. And I’ve seen you play with other submissives, too. Mia? You and her are like two sides of a coin. Perfectly fucking matched. She’s the one you keep, Kyler. She’s the one you collar . Take it from someone who let the right one get away.” He stayed for just another moment, his whole expression darkening,
“Whiskey neat,” Kyler said.
“You got it,” Griffin said, smacking a napkin on the bar top. “How’s your night going?” He peered at Kyler as he reached for a glass and the bottle.
Shaking his head, Kyler sighed. “I don’t even know, my friend. I don’t even know.”
“Well I might have an idea,” came a deep voice. Quinton leaned into the bar right beside him, his big beefy arm braced against the marble.
“Meaning?” Kyler said, the other man’s tone raising his hackles.
Quinton tilted his head and gave him a hard look. “Saw Mia on her way out a few minutes ago.”
Griffin put the amber-filled tumbler down in front of Kyler. “Mia’s a sweetheart,” the bartender said. “Sure hope she joins full time.”
“You knew she was a temp?” Kyler asked. How had Griffin known that but he hadn’t? Kyler couldn’t decide if he was pissed to have let that catch him off guard, or if it was a blessing in disguise. Because now he wouldn’t have to keep fighting himself to stay away from her—and losing.
“You didn’t?” Griffin’s expression was skeptical, then incredulous. “I guess you two weren’t doing a whole lotta talking.”
Kyler tossed back a swig of the liquor, the heat tearing down his throat a needed distraction from the shit storm in his head.
“I wouldn’t be too sure about her joining,” Quinton said, his light brown gaze not letting up one bit. “She didn’t seem too happy when she left.”
What had Quinton seen or heard to make him come to that determination? Guilt slashed through Kyler, and worry, too. Goddamnit.
“Why? What the hell happened?” Griffin demanded, looking between the two men, anger rolling off of him. The guy had a raw spot when it came to a submissive being hurt or injured, one that he’d come by honestly.
“Dunno. Was hoping Master Kyler might shed some insight on that.” Quinton raised an eyebrow.
“Kyler?” Griffin asked, nailing him with a dark stare. “What am I missing here? Why was she unhappy?”
Barely restraining a groan, Kyler took another drink. “She can’t afford the membership.”
Griffin froze, a confused expression on his face. “Can’t afford…? But aren’t you…” Kyler didn’t need him to finish the thought. When a Dom claimed or collared a sub, he would pick up the membership costs for her. Clearly, the fact that Kyler had dominated Mia’s time here had been noticed. And conclusions about what that meant had been drawn.
“Yeah, I kinda thought so, too,” Quinton said, that damn eyebrow still arched.
“I don’t do relationships. You know this,” Kyler said, a big rock parked in his gut. The last thing he wanted to be doing was publicly hashing out the mess he’d made with Mia. He knew perfectly well what he’d done. And his chest felt fucking hollow for having done it. “So you thought wrong.”
“That’s some bullshit right there, Kyler. But tell yourself whatever you need to sleep at night, I guess.” Quinton turned toward Griffin. “Gimme a bottle of water, Griffin?”
“You know what, Quinton? When I need a life coach, I’ll fucking hire one.” Kyler emptied his glass and slammed it down on the bar.
“Yeah? By the time you do, one of the best things you ever had will be long gone. But suit yourself.” Quinton grabbed the water and saluted Griffin with the bottle. “Thanks, G.” He walked away.
“Damnit,” Kyler said, feeling like an asshole. He was batting zero tonight, wasn’t he? He looked up to find Griffin staring at him. “What?”
Griffin scratched at his jaw. “Saw that scene you did with her. The one where you took her while watching my demo. And I’ve seen you play with other submissives, too. Mia? You and her are like two sides of a coin. Perfectly fucking matched. She’s the one you keep, Kyler. She’s the one you collar . Take it from someone who let the right one get away.” He stayed for just another moment, his whole expression darkening,
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