Gibson frowned. “I’m not sure I’d want that much trust from someone, that kind of responsibility. I just like having a good time. That level seems … heavy.”
“It is.” Foster shrugged. “But it’s the ultimate drug. At least for a dom.”
Pike watched Gibson’s expression change, the downshift, the doors closing. He should ignore it. He didn’t. “Maybe you just don’t see it that way because the dominant thing isn’t really your drink of choice, Gib.”
Gibson shot him a murderous look.
But Pike had a few beers in him and wasn’t in the mood to play nice, especially after Gib had taken so much glee in telling the Spike story. “Whatever happened to that chick you were subbing for—Sam? Wasn’t she Tessa’s friend?”
“I wasn’t subbing for her. I was helping her with her training.”
“To be a domme,” Pike clarified.
“I was teaching her how to top.” Gibson’s jaw flexed and he ran a hand over his dark, curly hair. “And it didn’t go further than that. We didn’t hook up. She needed a real bottom.”
“Mmm,” Pike said noncommittally, which, based on Gibson’s expression, pissed his friend off even more.
“Nothing wrong with switching,” Foster said, either oblivious to Gib’s tension or ignoring it. He reached over to scratch a napping Monty on the head. “Or bottoming. That girl you were with was a firecracker. I saw her at The Ranch the other day. She’s been topping Julian.”
“Julian?” Gibson looked like he could gnash rocks with his teeth. He gulped his beer instead. “Fantastic.”
Pike shook his head, but before he could annoy his friend more, his phone beeped. He’d included himself on the appointments he’d made for Oakley. He reached forward to grab his cell but Gibson swiped it off the coffee table first.
“Let’s see what’s going on in Pike world.”
“What the fuck, man?” Pike stretched toward Gib. “Give me that.”
“Are we keeping you from something? All this beeping. Sounds like you’re real busy,” Gib said, mischief in his eyes, revenge in his grasp.
Pike pushed himself off the couch to go for the phone but Gibson was already reading the screen. “‘Get out of the bath and put on something sexy. Allotted time: ten minutes.’”
“Give me the goddamned phone.” He yanked it from Gib’s hand.
Gib was already laughing. “What the hell? You reminding yourself to get pretty for us tonight?”
Pike flipped him off and sat on the arm of the couch.
“Or wait,” Gibson said, eyes alight. “Maybe all this talk of subbing is because you’re the one answering to a domme this evening.”
“Fuck off, Gib. Unlike some people, I’ve got no hang-ups about playing on that side if I get the itch.”
“No,” Foster said, leaning forward, shit-eating grin on his face. “That’s not it. You’ve been distracted all night. You’re the one telling someone else to do that, aren’t you?”
Pike didn’t respond.
“Is it that woman we saw at Wicked?”
“Wait, what woman?” Gib asked.
Foster’s smile went smug. “Pike’s got the hots for a mom at Bluebonnet Place. Sent her a big box of sex toys for a how-ya-doin’ gift.”
“Wait, what? You’re sleeping with someone who works for Tessa? Dude. Not cool.”
Pike scowled. “Hey, weren’t you the one who told me to find a normal woman?”
Gibson gave him the are-you-kidding-me glare. “Not one at the charity, idiot. I told Kade you’d be—”
“Look, I’m not sleeping with her, all right? Haven’t even kissed her. I’m just …”