“Fuck. Shit. Fuck. Did you think I would hit you?”
She managed to get herself under control enough to look up, right into his strained face. It was clear from the tension in his body that he was holding himself in check. From doing what, she wasn’t sure.
But once her gaze met his bright blue one, she couldn’t look away. He anchored her. Kept her in the here and now.
“You really thought I would hit you?”
“You . . . I . . . guess so.” She winced. Closing her eyes, she waited for him to explode.
When she next opened her eyes, he was gone.
Well. Fuck.
8
Webb:She’s still not talking to me.
Webb:You asshole.
Webb:Answer my fucking texts.
Webb:Urgh, motherfucker, next time you need someone to beat on you in the ring, I volunteer!
Zander slidhis phone back into his pocket. He’d left Webb in charge tonight while he and Ammo went to the club. He needed something to distract him. Sparring with Ammo hadn’t worked, so he’d convinced the other man to come with him to the club.
Three days.
Three days since he’d seen her, since he’d scared her into another panic attack. And it was eating him up inside. He needed to unwind. Work off some stress.
Ammo left him to find one of the subs who liked as much pain as he enjoyed dishing. Thing was, as soon as Zander was inside the large BDSM club, he knew he’d made the wrong decision. None of this felt right. He didn’t feel the urge to play with any of the subs who
approached him to negotiate a scene. He’d tried to be gentle, but he knew he’d probably been too blunt when they’d appeared crestfallen.
Finally, he decided to get a drink at the bar and just watch.
“There a reason why you’re breaking all of my subs’ hearts tonight?” a deep voice asked.
He glanced over as Butler, the owner of the club, came up next to him. He was a big bear of a man. Tonight, he wore a red and black flannel shirt, jeans, and black boots.
“Breaking hearts?” he asked, confused. “What do you mean?”
“You’ve turned down four different subs wanting to scene with you.”
“Yes. I hardly doubt their hearts were involved, though.”
Butler gave him an amused look. “No, I guess you’re right.”
“And if they were, I never led them on.”
Butler held his hands up. “You’re right. I apologize. I worded it wrong. You intending to play tonight?”
“I was. I find I’m not in the mood now, though.”
“Woman problems?” Butler asked.
“What did Ammo tell you?” he demanded.
“Nothing. It was just a guess.”