by Joya Ryan
Which told her all she needed to know. She’d been overthinking this on a level she shouldn’t. They were barely friends. And this was only lunch.
Snap of out this!
She smiled at Cindy. “Thanks for the offer, but it looks like I’m going in a pasta direction today.”
“Okay,” Cindy said happily, not hiding her appreciation of Nolan…a long drawn out appreciation that turned into a full on stare. Ava wanted to snap her fingers to break the trance of Cindy undressing him with her eyes.
“Bye,” Ava said, a little sharper than she’d meant.
“Oh, okay. Yes. Bye,” Cindy said, as she slipped past her cubical and down the hall.
“So, this is where you work?” He glanced around her cubical, then that icy gaze landed on her. “And that’s what you wear to the office?”
She looked down at herself. Her black dress was form fitting but professional. Paired with her favorite red heels, matching lipstick, and a tight up-do, it was one of her favorite outfits. Not that she’d been dressing up for Nolan. She wore similar things to work all the time.
“Is there something wrong with how I’m dressed?”
He smiled and shook his head, and his heated eyes made another lazy sweep of her. “Not a thing, sweetheart. Just cementing it to memory. You’ve got a naughty teacher thing going on, and I love red stilettos.”
She crossed her arms and sat back in her chair. “You done?”
“Well, I don’t know. Are you going to punish me?” She laughed and playfully smacked his arm as she stood. “Oooh, that hurt so good, Miss Webber. May I please have another? Then tell me I’m a bad boy and you’re going to fuck—”
“Are you ever serious?” she asked with a smile, gathering her purse.
“More often than you know.”
She glanced at him, and something in his expression made her believe him. He was a flirt. His humor and conversation always lightened her mood. Just a minute ago she’d been stewing over what “lunch date” meant and staring at her phone. Now she was relaxed and excited to hang out with him.
The guy was just…easy.
Easy to be with. Easy to engage. And he made her feel like every horrible moment of her life before she’d moved here and joined Serve was fading further away.
Just lunch. Just friends. Sort of.
Surely Nolan as a friend—or whatever label was appropriate—was harmless. Flirting wasn’t bad. Unfortunately, he paired that flirting with a hot body and wicked smile.
She wondered if her mystery man was half as sexy as Nolan.
Whoa, where had that thought come from? She shook her head. Myth was anything she could imagine, and that was the greatest appeal. He wasn’t real in all the ways that counted, and so her commitment to no commitment stood. He could be one of the guys from Magic Mike and it wouldn’t matter.
“Wanna tell me what has your mind working? Or do you just want to continue staring at my”—he cleared his throat and subtly thrust his hips—“cock.”
Shit. She’d totally been staring and hadn’t even realized it! Heat burned her cheeks.
“I’m fine either way, sweetheart. But if you stare too long, I’m going to assume you’re trying to use the Force to remove my pants. Just say the word and I’ll save you the headache.”
She scoffed. His charm was unmatchable. She was starting to realize that he gave her power in subtle ways. All she had to do was “say the word.” Any word. Yes, no, please…he left everything up to her.
Something she liked.
She smirked. “I’m hungry, and you said you’d feed me.”
“I like where this is going.” He winked.
“Maybe if you stop crowding the exit, I can actually get on with this lunch and stop having to stare off into space, strategizing a path around you.”
“Ouch.” He put a hand over his heart in fake pain, then leaned and whispered, “I’ll let you say what you need to, but we both know what you were really looking at.” He looked her up and down. “And I’m hungry too.”
The prick of lust he’d just delivered strung her into silence.
“Shall we?” He straightened to his full height and opened his stance to let her pass.
She did and walked down the hall and toward the exit with a hot wall of muscled man on her heels. What was worse was that his hand rested on the small of her back, as if guiding her and keeping her close as they walked. But the worst part was that her body responded, and she actually liked it.
Keep it together, girl.
Though she was with Nolan, she needed to keep the focus on her next scene at Serve with Myth.
It’s just lunch.
How bad could it be?
Chapter Seven
After a few bites of amazing pasta and even fewer words, Ava finally decided to go with her gut and start talking.
“How do you like your job?” she asked.
Nolan sat across the restaurant table from her, cutting at his meal with his fork. “I like it very much.”
“So you prep the scenes and vet people? Do you participate?”
“Yes.”
Well, that was simple. “Yes to all of it?”
“Yes.”
She frowned. “Are you being a pain in the ass on purpose?”
He smiled and took a drink of his beer. “I’m answering you, sweetheart. You want more details? You have to ask.”
Fine, she could play this game. Because the truth was, she did want more details. Not just on Serve, the process, or even Myth. But details on Nolan. He fascinated her, and she enjoyed his company. As long as she kept the friendship strictly that, the blurred lines of attraction and flirtation were fine to walk. Because it would never be more. She wouldn’t allow it.
“What are you into?” she asked.
“Outside or inside the club?”
“Both.”
Gripping his beer, he sat back in his seat and thought for a moment. “Inside the club I’m pretty versatile. I have several kinks, but nothing overly specific. Outside the club…”
He took a drink of his beer, and a faint flush came over his face. Her eyes widened.
“Outside the club?” she pushed, really interested in what he was going to say that seemed to embarrass him.
He muttered something so low that she couldn’t make it out.
“Huh?”
He sighed and looked at her. “I said, I’m into baseball cards. I’ve collected them since I was a kid.”
She looked at the large strong man sitting across from her and tried picturing him as a boy. She smiled thinking of his dark hair and blue eyes on an eight-year-old version of himself.
“Why baseball cards?”
He shrugged. “It was the one thing I had of my dad’s before he split. He left this binder with the entire set of Topps from the year I was born. I used to just want the packs because they had gum in them.”
Her breath hitched a little. The normally laidback Nolan was being…real. He’d always been direct, but not about anything personal.
“He left?” she asked quietly.
He nodded and took another swig of his beer. “Yep. My mom is amazing though. Raised me on her own. I barely remember the guy anyway.”
There was that casual façade he wore so well. He seemed to erect it effortlessly whenever he needed. She wasn’t fooled, though. He might say he barely remembered his father, but collecting baseball cards to this day said the man had affected him more than he would admit.
“Well, your mom must be amazing, because she raised a good man.” She meant it. She didn’t know Nolan well, but now his charm and protective spirit made sense. He’d learned those qualities from women at a young age. “So your adorable little hobby…” she began. “Does that make you a Mets fan or Yankees?”
“Yankees all the way, baby.” He grinned. “Let’s talk about you now.”
“Hold up,” she said and twirled her pasta. “I’m not done with you yet.”
“As long as you don’t ask me
anymore about my adorable hobby,” he said with an exasperated groan.
Okay, she could work with that. “Fine. New subject…sort of. You said that inside the club you have kinks but nothing specific. Explain that.”
“Some people are into the BDSM lifestyle. Some have more limited kinks. I’m just middle of the road.”
She frowned. “I’m going to need a little more than that.”
He grinned. “Well, for example, in BDSM, there are a lot of different directions you can go.”
He put his beer back on the table and returned his attention to his plate.
“Like spanking and binding?” she asked.
“Yeah, or collaring.”
“Collaring?”
“That’s right.” He took a bite of his lasagna and she was momentarily hypnotized watching his jaw move. “When you’re a claimed submissive and have a Dom, you get a collar to let others know you’re owned.”
Owned…
That word vibrated off her mind. She wasn’t out to judge anyone’s lifestyle. Hell, she was going to a sex club herself. She knew that however it appeared on the outside, bondage partners always had each other’s explicit consent, but she couldn’t stomach the thought of giving up control. Not when it came to sex, and most definitely not when it came to life. The idea of choice being taken away was the thing she feared the most.
That was why this arrangement at Serve was so perfect. Nothing would happen that she hadn’t asked for.
“What happened?” Nolan asked, and her eyes lifted to meet his. “You look sick all of a sudden.”
Great, glad he’d noticed.
“I’m just not into bondage. That’s all.”
“Which part?”
“The collar.”
“It doesn’t have to be like a choker or even a necklace. Some people use cuffs or bracelets.” He shrugged. “It’s like an intense wedding ring. The symbolism is what’s important.”
Exactly. Which was why anything along those commitment lines made her stomach turn.
“Not for me,” she said quietly, then took a bite of her pasta. A regular wedding ring had been too much. Too confining, along with the man that had come with that ring. She closed her eyes for a moment and forced the storm in her stomach to calm down.
“If it’s not for you, then you should have told me. You don’t like being spanked and bound? That’s not on your form.”
His concern for her safety and wellbeing chased off the chill of her previous thoughts.
“Spanking and tying me up is fine. I meant I was okay with anything, and I stand by that. But collaring goes beyond a scene and beyond the bedroom. That’s not a form-type question.”
“Fair enough,” he agreed. “So does that play into why you like things staying anonymous? It doesn’t allow you to go beyond the scene?”
Great, he was astute, too.
“I’m just a middle of the road girl,” she said, using his words from earlier. “Those four walls inside Serve, when I’m with Myth, are all fair game. Outside, it’s different.”
He nodded and looked at her. His intense blue eyes were dark, as if they were seeing straight into her soul.
“I see.” He cocked his head, like he was thinking of another question.
That wouldn’t be good. She’d come here for a casual lunch, comfortable because she figured he wouldn’t pry. Yet he seemed genuinely interested in her and how she worked, and the hell of it was, she felt tempted to spill her guts. Time to change the subject.
“So, tell me more about you. You’ve used the word ‘prep’ before. Do you prep women for a scene?”
His expression held a heavy lust. “If the person is right for my services.”
“Details please,” she said with a smile, anxious to get back to the sexy, flirty way they normally chatted instead of being on the brink of confessing her soul to him. Never mind that she wanted to spare him the details. She wanted to spare herself, too. She was done with those memories. Done with the person she used to be.
He grinned. “I make sure requests are fulfilled, desires met, like last night.”
Her mind skated to the memory of him talking to her.
“If your mystery man can’t do everything you need, I’m happy to oblige.”
“Are you?” she asked.
He nodded.
“Do you ever get embarrassed?”
He raised an eyebrow. “What do you think?”
She swallowed. I’ll take that as a no.
While she was trying to be more direct in general, it was tricky to not blush sometimes. Everything in her world, including Nolan and her job—which as of recently dealt in sex toys—had the ability to heat her cheeks every now and again. But she had questions and the man before her was the one she wanted to ask…and to know.
“Does your prep work ever leave you…cranky?”
“Are you asking if getting women close, only to pass them off to their scene, makes me cranky?”
“Yes.”
“Sometimes. Depends on the woman.”
Her chest flickered with heat. “So, for example, last night—”
“I got so hard from talking to you, the damn thing wouldn’t go down for the rest of the night.”
For some reason that made her stomach flutter. He really wasn’t embarrassed, and she liked that. It was refreshing how honest he was. He made her feel comfortable in his world.
What had he done after he left her last night? She hated the thought of him rock hard with no relief in sight. Had he made himself come? Found another woman to slake his needs?
The thought annoyed her, and she had no right to such an emotion. She was having sex with Myth, after all. Which was what she should steer the conversation back to.
“You said that you’re the go-between when it comes to Myth and me.”
He nodded. “That’s right.”
She intertwined her fingers and rested them on the table. “I’d like to set up another scene. Since I leave our time together up to him, I wonder if I’ll need prepping.”
“Is there something you have in mind?”
She lifted a shoulder. There was one thing she hadn’t ever done. Something she wanted to experience. But she had no idea how to go about saying it out loud. She wasn’t a prude, but in the light of day, with Nolan starring daggers at her over a bowl of pasta, the words refused to be spoken.
“I just want him to know I’m open to him…however he needs me. Even if it’s something I’ve never done before.”
Nolan stared at her for a long moment, as if mentally rattling off all the possible things she could mean. Surely he wouldn’t guess—
“You don’t have a virgin mouth or pussy…” he started. Damn, he was really good at deciphering her.
It’s what he does for a living, moron.
She should have guessed he’d be on to her.
He raised his eyebrows. “Do you have a virgin ass?” He said it both intrigued and totally normal. Like this was standard lunch conversation.
“Y-yes.” She hadn’t meant to stutter over the word. But the slight tremble in her voice was unmistakable. “I just…” She cleared her throat, determined to present herself as the woman she needed to be. The one that went for what she wanted. The one that was strong. “I just didn’t know what kind of prep, if any, was involved with that.”
He ran his hand over his jaw, and she couldn’t tell if he was on the brink of grinning or frowning.
“There is prep, especially if you’ve never done it. And it’s up to you on how to go about that. Whether it’s with me or Myth, I can assure you nothing will happen until you’re completely ready.”
There was that protector voice again. What she couldn’t tell was if he had a preference who prepped her.
Me or Myth.
Did Nolan want some kind of sexual encounter with her? One that involved him actually touching her? She couldn’t read him, and she didn’t want to put herself out there either way. It was one thing to give herself to he
r anonymous lover, but Nolan had seen her face, and she’d seen his. If he thought she needed something in his professional opinion, she’d acquiesce. But asking for him to be with her—or knowing he wanted to be with her—would cross the boundary she needed to keep herself safe.
“Well, I’ll leave it to the professionals to determine.”
He frowned. “You are the most frustrating woman.”
“Why?”
“Because you want something, and you know you want it, but you’re very, very good at not asking for it while at the same time begging for it.”
That was because she didn’t want to make this more than it was. He was her club liaison. And maybe something of a friend. But she knew better than to cross the line with him. Best to keep anything personal with him on a surface level.
“If you’re willing to talk to Myth, that would be great. However you two want to handle this is fine with me.”
There. She’d said her piece. She’d put out there what she wanted, and she knew no matter who actually prepped her for such an event, she’d be taken care of. Because one thing she trusted was Nolan’s judgment. It was up to him and Myth to decide how the rest of this played out. And when she thought about Nolan touching her body, she couldn’t help but buzz with excitement.
Which, realistically, was why everything sexual needed to be kept strictly with Myth.
Yet looking at Nolan across the table from her, she couldn’t bring herself to say it. If he decided it ought to be him who prepared her for the scene, she wouldn’t be able to refuse him.
“Why don’t you come to the club this weekend? Everything will be arranged.”
She nodded. “Sounds great.”
It was only as she was leaving that she realized he still hadn’t answered her question. She had no idea if when she went to the club this weekend it would be Myth preparing her for new pleasures…or Nolan.
Chapter Eight
“Easy man, or you’ll give yourself a hernia,” Oliver Preston said.
Nolan just ignored him and went for three more reps of bicep curls. Meeting Oliver at the gym had become a weekly ritual, a way for Nolan to blow off steam and catch up with his friend. They used to see each other at Serve all the time, but Oliver hadn’t been to the club since he’d met Eliza.