“It’s not like that,” Nate snapped. “I’ve known her a long time.”
“Let me commend you on your tasted then.” Loke laughed his silent laugh. “Go. Your suite or a generic one. You choose. Throw a shirt on her first so Anderson doesn’t get the vapors.”
Nate wanted to snarl at Loke for making things out to be more serious than they were, but then realized the man was right and Nate needed to cool the fuck off.
“Is there a problem?” Riley asked.
“The boss said to take you up to –” he paused, resigning himself to the worst possible scenario, “my suite.” Bad. He really shouldn’t be bringing her up there. Not in the mood he was in.
A server arrived at his elbow and handed Nate’s shirt to him.
“Okay. I need to tell my friend where I’m going.”
He nodded. “He’ll be your safe call?”
“I don’t need a safe call with you.”
“I wouldn’t be too sure about that, Leelee.”
Chapter 3
Leelee. She’d almost forgotten.
Only Nate had ever called her that. The pet name made her throat thick. He redressed her in his own, metallic-smelling T-shirt, gathered her clothes, and led her to Jack, who was on his back and tied to a bench.
“Jack, I’m going upstairs with Nate.”
Her friend frowned at Nate, but the full effect of his protective glower probably lost some of its effectiveness seeing as how he was bound and completely helpless. Playing with her in public apparently hadn’t required the same level of concern.
Adam struck up an amiable conversation with Nate who was inspecting his rope work and ignoring Jack’s ocular threats.
“I’ll give him your suite number later, when I let him up,” Adam told Riley. “If he’s not busy, that is.”
“Oh, I’ll make my own way home. No need to cut your night short on my account. I don’t need a safe call with Nate.”
How she’d gone from wanting to avoid Nate’s notice to wanting him to take her upstairs to be alone – all in the span of forty minutes – she’d never know. The fact that he was dominant, ten times hotter than in high school, and single, was far too tempting.
Walks of shame weren’t exactly new to her, but it was very different doing it in a BDSM hotel. As they made their way through the club, no one gave them a second look except to greet Nate and politely check her out. If anything, this wasn’t so much a walk of shame as a walk of anticipation. She had a million vivid recollections of how sex had been with him back when neither of them knew what they were doing, but now that he was older and they both knew more about sex and kink…
It had taken her ages to get over him the first time, but neither of them were the same people anymore. He’d gone from doting and loyal high school boyfriend to a guy who played at clubs and probably had countless submissives vying for his attention. As for her, she’d gone from somewhat dorky band chick in high school to…whatever she was now. In transition, probably.
Lonely. Dissatisfied.
Hell, it had been almost a year since she’d even gotten laid.
Moving back to Vegas had significantly narrowed her social and play circle, and it had been the swift demise of her already pathetic love life.
They got to the eleventh floor and he took her hand and led her to the door marked eleven twelve. He still handled her the way he had when he walked her to every class and carried her books. It wasn’t until after they’d split that she’d realized his reverence and attentiveness wasn’t common in the dating world. A guy giving her flowers couldn’t compare to the look Nate would have in his eyes as she came out of her classes, as though he’d been holding his breath until she reappeared.
He unlocked the door and held it open for her, following her into a bright, airy space that temporarily made her forget where they were.
She stopped dead and he bumped into her, apologizing and righting her before she toppled over.
“Are you…married?” His place wasn’t very bachelor pad-ish at all. Not even a little.
“No.”
“Girlfriend? There’s no way you decorated this. Not unless you’ve gotten fancy in your old age.”