Collaring Chaz (Dante's Infernal #2) - Joel Abernathy Page 0,3
me from across the room.”
The remark took me off-guard, since I had been too lost in my thoughts to be watching anyone, but there was no need to tell him that. I’d spent plenty of time ogling him at the club, anyway.
“You beat me to it,” I said, forcing a smile as I offered my hand. “Rafael Martin.”
“I know,” he answered in a silken voice, returning the handshake. “Maxwell Clark, but there’s no reason for you to know that.”
“Oh, I’d remember if we’d met before,” I told him, taking a sip of my drink. The line made him blush, even though it was more a force of habit than anything.
“You are a charmer. You know, you’re pretty famous at the club.”
“That so?” I asked, leaning against the pillar in the room.
“Maybe we could have a session sometime,” he said, running a hand down my chest. The touch didn’t spark what he seemed to expect. What it would have, if I was in a normal frame of mind.
“Yeah,” I said, because I had no reason to refuse. I’d been watching him forever, and it was only a matter of time before we finally connected. And yet, I found myself grasping for a reason we wouldn’t be compatible for reasons I couldn’t even begin to understand. Or didn’t want to. “That would be great, but first, you should probably tell me what you’re into. My style’s not for everyone.”
“Oh, I’m very flexible,” Maxwell said, his lips quirking. “You’re into pup play, right?”
“I am. Exclusively, more or less,” I admitted, hoping that would be a turn off. Most subs liked to experiment, but I went into sessions knowing exactly what I wanted, and expected my partner to be the same.
“Sounds fun,” he answered without hesitation. “I have my own gear. Or I could wear whatever you prefer.”
More words that should have triggered the instinctive need I felt to dominate and control. Another tick in the perfect sub checklist. “You can wear whatever you want,” I said, hoping that being a bit wishy-washy would dampen his interest. It was only then that I consciously realized what I was doing.
Up until Maxwell, it had been possible to dismiss as a combination of wanting to make the most of my limited free time, and pickiness, but there was nothing to pick apart with him. No flaws or incompatibilities I could point to as an excuse.
He was the perfect sub for me, but even he couldn’t measure up to the one standard I was unwilling to budge on.
He wasn’t Dante.
The moment the realization came crashing down, it took any hint of arousal that might have been forming with it. I set aside my drink on the nearest table and cleared my throat. “Shit. I’m sorry, I just remembered something I have to do.”
Maxwell’s eyes widened in confusion. I felt like a dick for bailing under such a thin pretense, but if I didn’t get out of this place, the self-loathing was going to consume me.
“Is everything okay?”
“Yeah, it’s fine. Just a studio thing I completely fucking forgot about,” I answered, grabbing my jacket off the back of the chair I’d left it on. “I’m really sorry. We’ll continue this later?”
“Sure,” he said, still watching me in a daze. “But you don’t have my number.”
Shit.
I spent a couple of minutes I didn’t have exchanging numbers with a guy I had no intention of fucking before I got the hell out of there. At least when I left, he seemed to believe me, and he was coming onto me again.
The cold night air wasn’t the relief I thought it would be. Then again, the thing that had triggered a rare flight response was something I couldn’t run from, and fighting it was getting harder by the day. I took the long way back to my apartment anyway.
Looking back, it was obvious enough. My waning interest in the kink that had once occupied almost all my free time just so happened to coincide with Dante’s engagement to Cash.
Damn, I was pathetic.
I wasn’t even sure when it had happened--when I had gone from seeing Dante as a brother and occasional friend with benefits to being in love with him. It wasn’t the kind of thing where I could point to a specific moment in time or action that had sealed it. It was more like a dark cloud that had been looming over our friendship for a long time, even before Cash came into the picture.