Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 77249 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 386(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77249 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 386(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
I wasn’t poking that with even a fifty-foot pole, so I ignored it and turned to Cyrus. “Let’s go.”
I needed carbs and dessert to make up for not getting anything I’d come to the club for and for getting my fantasies dashed with reality.
“Sure.” Cyrus seemed content to leave but he wasn’t big on confrontation, so that didn’t surprise me. For a Dom, he was the least aggressive guy I’d ever met, but Doms came in all flavors like subs did. I simply had to keep reminding myself that my flavor wasn’t as fucked as I imagined it was sometimes. “Let’s go.”
Yep, just two buddies hanging out.
Nothing odd going on.
No weird conversations.
No possible oversharing.
No having to explain why humiliation turned me on or why I wanted someone to watch me.
Nope.
Nothing odd at all.
“God. It’s painful.” Shaking his head, Conner decided to go back to full drama queen mode and marched off through the lounge. I had a feeling he was going to track down his Dom, the other owner of the club, and I was glad I didn’t have to stay around for that.
I wasn’t sure if he needed a punishment or a hug, but it was definitely not my problem.
“I think I’m going to get the alfredo.” I was more than ready to shift the conversation as we headed toward the front of the building, but Cyrus had the nerve to sigh.
For fuck’s sake.
“What about you?” Food. We were going to talk about food. “You mentioned wanting chicken parmesan the other day.”
His muscles required a lot of fuel and I knew it was something he’d like, but the asshole sighed again.
Someone just needed to kill me.
“I know you’re ready to change the topic and pretend none of this ever happened, but I can’t do that.” Cyrus had a stubborn nice-guy side that was going to make me strangle him at some point. “I need to clear the air, and then if you still want to go to dinner, we can do that.”
Fuck.
Fuck.
Fuck.
“Afterwards, we can even pretend none of this happened if that’s what you want.” Cyrus stopped as we got close to the main doors, escape barely out of reach. “And if you need me to get a cab or ride home from someone else, that’s fine too.”
For fuck’s sake.
Wait.
Why would I be mad at him for me being a weird screwup?
God. Thinking was entirely too hard and so was I.
Again.
“I don’t like this and I’m not afraid to use my colors.” I really didn’t like being backed into corners…well…in reality, with the right person I did…but not in conversations that weren’t going to end in orgasms. “Let’s just get food.”
“If you safeword I’ll respect that, but I’m not going to ride home with you. It would mean you’re a lot more upset than I think you are and I’m not going to continue to stress you out.” Cyrus was patient as my mental fucks started softly spilling out and he completely ignored them. “We can come back to this when you’re ready because you’re important to me.”
Why was this something he was going to be stubborn about?
“I’m starting to hate this club.” I couldn’t be too frustrated with him but I wasn’t going to stop being dramatic anytime soon. “Fine. Let’s sit down.”
No one ever took the seats by the door, so I marched over and found two seats for us right away. “Go on.”
Cyrus actually smiled for a second before he sighed and let me get away with being obnoxious. “Alright. I asked Conner to help me approach you for a scene. I wasn’t sure what it should look like because I knew there was something you’ve been rolling over in your head, so when you talked to him, I think he felt it was the perfect time for my conversation too.”
Wait.
What?
He.
We.
What?
Chapter 2
Cyrus
“We don’t do that.” Weston sat there for several long moments before he managed a reply, but it wasn’t what I’d expected to hear. I’d been prepared for anything from that’s gross to I couldn’t submit to you but not we don’t do that.
“Correct but I was hoping to change that.” I knew he found me attractive, he peeked when he thought I wouldn’t notice, but he was careful to keep it as subtle as he could. “We’re friends, yes, but we click, and I think we could be more than friends.”
But something was holding us back and I was pretty sure it was coming from Weston.
Wessie had secrets and they were keeping us firmly in the just friends category.
“You don’t date guys like me.” Again, he kept throwing me curve balls.
“Explain what you mean by that.” Because I wasn’t sure if he was talking about something kink related or what he looked like or something else entirely.
His logic was confusing sometimes, so I wasn’t going to pretend to be able to read his mind on this one.