Page 37 of Long for Me
“Fine.” I huffed. “But I’m not talking about the contract or Bennett or anything to do with sex.”
“Well, geez. Kill all my fun, would you? Shawn did this thing last night with his tongue—”
“Ah!” I slammed my hands over my ears and walked to my bedroom. “Not listening!”
* * *
The Wasted Bull was a total cliché country bar. Loud, twangy country music, wood floors, wood booths, American Pride flags and memorabilia covered the walls. It even had a mechanical bull, one I’d ridden multiple times.
I loved the place.
We were seated at a booth where we could order dinner and it wasn’t until we were seated, Miranda sitting across from me, that I noticed two additional menus had been plopped down next to us.
“Who else is coming?”
She was mid-sip in her beer and paused, keeping the glass to her lips. “Hmm?”
“You said we were kicking me out of my rut when you were at my house and rushing me to get ready and now there’s extra menus. Who else is coming?”
“Oh.” She shrugged and picked up her menu. Miranda was a lot of things, but tight-lipped wasn’t one of them. “You know, just some friends of mine I want you to meet.”
“Miranda.”
“Oh, fine. It’s Haley and Gabby from the club, and before your skin goes any paler than it already is, relax.”
Relax? She wanted me to do what? I’d been honest with Miranda. I’d told her repeatedly that Bennett and I would never work. We had good sex. Fine, great sex, amazing, unforgettable once in a lifetime sex, but we weren’t compatible in any other area. Sex didn’t make a relationship and when push came to shove, regardless of the way Bennett’s touches made me feel or how I went gooey when he smiled and talked all soft and warm in my ear, I needed more than orgasms from a man.
“Why would you do this to me?”
She sipped her beer and smiled. “Because they’re my friends and I needed to get out of the house tonight and I like the band and I like my friends so I wanted to enjoy all of them together. Besides,” she leaned forward and grinned salaciously. “It’s not like we just sit around talking about being whipped and bound and tied up when we’re out.”
“Which I’ve always said we should do more of.”
I jumped at the new voice, sloshing beer over the rim of my glass.
“Gabby, so good to see you. Meet my friend and neighbor, Rebecca Morales,” Miranda said, standing from the booth and hugging the pretty woman. Her platinum blonde hair fell around her shoulders highlighting the metal collar around her throat. I would have known she was a slave from that alone even without what Miranda said next. “Rebecca, this is Gabby, Master Dylan’s partner.”
“Hello.” I held out my hand, which she took, squeezing it warmly and covering it with her other one.
“Gabby. Lovely to meet you, Rebecca. Mind if I squeeze in next to you?” I scooted over and she turned to Miranda. “Haley’s on her way, but she texted and said she’s running about fifteen minutes late so not to wait for her to order.”
The reminder of food made my stomach rumble and I was thankful the noise in the bar was too loud for anyone to hear. I’d been so tied up—figuratively, not literally—all week long I hadn’t eaten well. I was starving and while Miranda and Gabby talked about Haley, someone I vaguely recalled them mentioning as having the flu on New Year’s Eve, I scanned the menu. Burgers and sandwiches, appetizers that all began with deep fried. It all sounded perfect. The fatter, the greasier and the more fried the better I always figured. After I decided what I’d get to eat and set the menu down, I turned to Gabby.
“So where do you work?” I asked Gabby as I heard her say her place had been busy earlier when she checked in on her way to meet us.
“I’m the bartender and owner of G’s Bar. Small little place—”
“On Vail Street,” I interrupted, grinning. “I’ve been there. Love the tin tiled ceilings and graffitied walls. It’s really unique.”
“Thank you,” she said, smiling so wide her eyes closed a smidge. “I love that you know it. It was my dad’s. I grew up in that place, was there almost as much as I was at home with my mom. When he died a few years back I took it over, so it really makes me feel good that people remember it and like it. What about you? Where do you work?”
“I’m an assistant at Ashby Enterprises.” Reaching for my drink, I was just taking a sip when she asked, “Oh, so do you know Bennett? He’s a great guy.”
I coughed over my beer and covered my mouth, glaring daggers at Miranda. “Yes, I’m his assistant actually.”
“Huh.” Gabby leaned back in the booth and shot me a conspiratorial grin. “What’s he like to work for? I think of Bennett and I imagine all that restrained power—”
“Gabby,” Miranda cut in. “Not the time.”
