“Stop,” she blurted. Fuck. Why had she done that?
Troy stepped in front of her, blocking her view of Ambrose. “Are you safewording or is this how you like to play?”
Leaving him hanging for a minute, she tried to focus, to pull her attention away from Ambrose, to forget he was there. He wasn’t hers, she wasn’t his, and he wasn’t there for her.
Focus on Troy.
She had a chance for a good bottoming experience. What did it matter that Ambrose was there? God, she could practically feel his gaze on her body, hot and weighted.
Ugh! It was too hard to concentrate. She squeezed her eyes shut and pressed her forehead against the cross.
“Red,” she finally said with a sigh.
Troy gave her a mildly annoyed look then started untying her. She wanted to apologize, but the words wouldn’t form. From the corner of her eye, she watched Ambrose stalk toward them, seeming to get bigger and more menacing with each step.
Damn. Maybe she could stay here and he’d play with her.
She gave her head a shake. No. She shouldn’t let him play with her until he answered some questions. She so wasn’t up for a repeat of what’d happened with Scott.
Once untied, she turned around, just as Ambrose reached them.
“Hey,” he said.
“Hey.”
Troy looked back and forth between them. “You didn’t tell me you had a Dom.”
“I don’t.”
He looked again then snorted and shook his head. “Sorry,” he said to Ambrose, who merely nodded.
Silent guy code? With an angry grunt, she turned to Troy, who was already walking away, “I said—”
“Can we talk?” Ambrose asked.
She crossed her arms over her chest and glared. “You totally just . . . cane-blocked me.”
“I didn’t make you safeword.”
“I couldn’t concentrate with you watching me.”
“Well, I can’t take my eyes off of you. It’s not my fault.”
Flattery will get you nowhere. Sighing, she uncrossed her arms and let them hang at her sides. “What do you want?”
“To talk. In private.”
The hot/cold routine wasn’t going to work for her. It had been a week since he’d bolted, and now here he was, acting like it was the next day. She was a bossy, demanding sub with high expectations. He’d already broken communication when he’d shut her out and left with a cold good-bye. “I’m the kind of girl who knows what I want, Ambrose. I won’t let you hurt me.”
He flinched. “Hurt you?” His gaze held hers, steady and a little shocked. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
Tears pricked at her eyes, surprising her. She hadn’t realized how much it’d messed her up until she’d said it out loud. Memories surfaced, and with them ugly emotions. When she’d fallen for Scott and he’d started to play with others, the humiliation had hurt worse than the betrayal. If she was going to get into another real relationship, she wasn’t going to be the first one to fall head over heels. Everything needed to be spelled out so she wouldn’t embarrass herself again.
“Jesus. I’m sorry, Everly.” He glanced around them then gestured to a quieter area in the back. “Can we please sit? Just for a minute?”
Her resolve faded with the apology. She hadn’t expected that. A lot of Doms were too cocky to say sorry when they fucked up. It meant a lot that he had. Nodding, she followed him to a booth and slid in across from him.
“I didn’t mean to hurt you.” The honesty in his eyes softened her anger. “I have issues. You rattled me, and I got . . .”