Evan thought she was a sub?
His burgeoning erection turned into a raging hard-on. God, how he’d love to find out if that was the case. Be the first to draw out the submission if it was really in her. But complicated didn’t even begin to describe getting involved with Evan. Not only was he doing business with her fiancé, but she’d made it clear in South Padre that she wanted nothing to do with him, couldn’t even bear to have lunch with him. And hell if he could blame her.
Plus, even if she had been open to him and ménage, sleeping with her again would be ten kinds of stupid. Especially after how he’d felt when he’d walked away from her the last time. She’d been his first lesson in heartbreak. Even way back then, they’d always had this dangerous vibe between them—one that had scared him shitless. She wasn’t a fuck ’em and forget ’em kind of girl, and he was a cut and run kind of guy.
Colby’s lazy Houston accent snapped Jace from his thoughts. “What makes you think you could be a submissive, sweetheart?”
Evan dipped her head a bit, like she was afraid to answer the question.
“Answer, sub,” Colby said, his accent not hiding the natural authority in his voice. “Now’s not the time to be shy.”
Jace stepped closer and had the urge to tell Colby to back the fuck off even though the guy was doing exactly what he would’ve done in the same situation.
Evan cleared her throat. “I’ve, uh, had fantasies about being dominated.”
Jace nearly groaned aloud. He should’ve been disturbed. At one time he’d seen this girl as a little sister, had promised his parents he would protect her from the dangers of the world and from guys like him. A promise he’d fucked up royally. And there was still a deep protective urge that rose when she was around. A possessive one that had been there from the beginning.
But God, somewhere along the way his view of her had warped into something entirely different. He knew the night she’d come to him at sixteen that his feelings toward her were far from familial. But now that the barrier of the strange situation was lifted all he could see was a beautiful woman there for the taking. A beautiful woman who wanted to be dominated.
Colby glanced up at Jace, noticing him now that he’d stepped next to Evan’s table. “Better move on, J. The lady isn’t looking for what you guys want to dish out.”
Jace’s jaw clenched. “Fuck off, Colby.”
Evan’s head snapped up, her eyes going wide when she saw Jace.
Colby’s brows lifted. “What’s your problem?”
Jace eyed Colby. The guy was his friend, an excellent dom and one of the trainers here. Evan would be in safe hands. But hell if he didn’t want to choke the guy at the thought of him touching her, bending her to his will, drawing out her submission. His fists clenched.
Andre shot Jace a don’t-do-this look. “No, Colby’s right, man. She’s not down with ménage.”
Jace clenched and unclenched his fists, an urge he hadn’t had in as long as he could remember surfacing. The words were out before he could stop them. “Maybe I’ll go solo tonight.”
Andre’s eyebrows rose, but before Jace could respond, Colby was pulling out a collar and laying it on Evan’s table, letting her know that he was offering to take her on. Jace’s hand, as if acting on its own accord, yanked the strip of leather from his own back pocket. He squeezed the collar in his hand, inches away from laying it down and making his first solo claim in two years.
Colby stared at him, waiting to see what Jace’s move was going to be.
Shit. Shit. Shit. Anxiety rose in Jace like a tidal wave, drowning the surge of bravado. What the hell was he doing? He didn’t do jealous or possessive. Not anymore. The fact that he was feeling either was a glaring sign he should back the fuck off. Now.
His good sense screamed for him to bail. To back off. His body and mind warred, but finally, he forced himself to step backward, leaving Evan to Colby, the concession almost physically painful. He had to give her up. Do the smart thing.
But before Jace could take another step back, Evan looked down at his clenched hand and looked . . . disappointed.
NINE
Evan tried to wet her lips, but her mouth had gone arid the minute she’d seen Jace. What in the hell was he doing here?
“Sasha, do you accept my offer?”
Her gaze darted to the man standing closer to her—dark brown hair and hazel eyes, a friendly smile teasing at the corners of his mouth. Handsome. And built like a brick shithouse. The collar on the table meant he was offering to take her on, which meant . . . Her focus returned to Jace and the collar he gripped in his hand. He was offering, too?
No, Jace had stepped back and was half-cloaked in the shadows at the edge of the singles area.
“Jace, what are you doing here?” she blurted out before she could stop herself.
The other man turned to Jace with a questioning look.
“I’m a member,” he said, his voice tight.