Page 69

When she’d listened to him reading off the menu for her, her eyes huge and focused on his face as though his words were holy, he finally sensed a missing piece of his dominant side slide into place. It took a few minutes for it to dawn on him that the missing piece was actually a simple one—being important to someone on an intimate, one-on-one level.

Not a submissive who paid the club to spend time with him, getting her body worked over with floggers or tied up in pretty ropes and swinging her way into subspace, but a woman who meant a great deal to him, heart to heart.

After she’d heard the entire menu, she’d carefully ordered spaghetti carbonara, and he’d just smiled and nodded in approval of her choice—Allan, Serenity’s head chef, made sure every plate that left his kitchen was perfect in presentation and taste.

It was clear when their meals were served, however, that she hadn’t quite gotten over her aversion of cream; she’d poked her finger in the sauce, eyed it suspiciously, before her tongue peeked from between her lips to dab adorably at the sample.

Once the food passed her test, they’d eaten in companionable silence, although he’d felt the undercurrent of her nerves ebbing and flowing. A few gentle brushes of his hand over hers, his fingers on her arm, soothed her, but he wondered if she was picking up hints of his own unease.

The transition to the bar was simple—through one set of swing doors, across the hallway, through another set of doors. It took only a minute, yet the contrast between the two locations was startling.

The restaurant was winding down service as they left; the bar was just picking up, with more people flowing through the doors in both directions. Liam was strict with the club rules, but he was also a fucking magnet, enticing his customers to hang around and chat even if they’d reached their drink limit.

“Think you’re brave enough to order our drinks, little owl?” he asked before Tamsyn slid into the seat opposite him.

She paused, glancing around the busy room, then shook her head. Pointing to her throat, she shrugged her shoulders… then sighed when he reached into his pocket, pulling out a palm-sized notebook and pen.

She flinched when he tossed it onto the table.

“It’s simple enough, Tamsyn. Write down what we want, take the notepad over to the bar and wait your turn. When Liam asks what you’d like to order, give him the pad and he’ll get you the drinks.” Merrick smiled at her and named the house beer supplied by a local brewery.

Tamsyn held his gaze for one long moment. Finally, she reached for the writing utensils and, with the concentration he adored, scribbled something resembling what he’d just said. In all likelihood, Liam would get the gist of it.

“Very good. What would you like?” He frowned when she wrotewaterdown. “Why don’t you try something more adventurous, darlin’? How about a soda? Hell, go wild and have a taste of alcohol. We’re not playing tonight.”

Baffled, she wiggled the pen indecisively.

“Leave the water on there,” he said quietly, “and add white wine. There’s ahafter thew, darlin’.”

Of course, she dutifully wrote down,white whine.

Close enough, he thought. They’d work on her spelling later when her hand wasn’t shaking. He gave it a quick, light squeeze. “My eyes will be on you the whole time, Tamsyn. No one is gonna bother you, but you won’t be out of my sight.” He pointed toward the bar, his arm straight. “See? There’s nothing blocking my view.”

She wrinkled her nose, set the pen down, and ripped the page from the notebook. With a soft huff, she whirled and stomped three feet away before stopping, turning back, and giving him the sweetest peck on the lips.

A kiss for luck?

He watched her leave a second time. She was hugely aware of the people around her, and he knew the moment it dawned on her that what she was wearing was completely different to what other women—other subs—were dressed in; she visibly shrank into her baggy jeans and sweatshirt, anxiously glancing back at him for reassurance.

Perhaps it was mean, sending her off on her own so soon, but this was about as controlled as a controlled environment could be. Both Liam and Jonah were keeping an eye out for her and wouldn’t make her wait too long once she reached the bar; Liam was going to escort her back and carry the drinks for her.

Fordham slid into the opposite booth, followed swiftly by Violet.

What the hell?

Merrick scowled at him and checked his watch. “Ten minutes lateandyou bring Vi?”

“I tagged along.” Violet tracked his gaze over to where Tamsyn tried to move around a group of friends blocking her route to the bar. “I figured your manly men conversation involves that sweet little thing, and manly men do stupid things when they get their heads together. A woman’s perspective comes in handy.”

Damn, now this wasn’t just going to be a friendly discussion and a potential proposal between two Doms—of all the Mistresses in Serenity, she was the mother hen, willing to take anyone under her wing. If she thought Tamsyn was at risk, she’d fight Merrick, Fordham, any fucking Dom who tried to stand in her path.

“All right, I need to lay this out before Tamsyn comes back. None of it gets back to her; I’ll talk with her if we reach an agreement.” Merrick nodded at Liam as his friend took pity on Tamsyn and gestured for her to step behind the pass, away from the throng of customers wanting service. “There’s a problem and I need to find a way around it. Been thinking of a solution for a week or two now, and I’m hoping you’re it, Ford.”

“Me?” Interest piqued, Fordham lifted his eyebrows.

“Things are heating up between me and Tamsyn. Sex is inevitable at this point, but…” He trailed off, leery about divulging her secrets but confident this was the right way forward. Lowering his voice, he said, “She’s a virgin.”

Dark eyebrows winged up. “Honest to God?”