of wine.
“Hey, how are you?” Avery said. She looked just as nervous and Domi and Rae. Domi couldn’t even remember the last time she and Rae had tried to make a new friend. Which just made it even harder—they needed to prove they could. And not make her feel like a third wheel while they did their usual thing so she would want to hang out with them again. On the other hand, after this, going on a first date with Mitch would probably be a breeze.
A lot less pressure.
“Good! Still trying to figure out what to wear on Tuesday.”
“Do you know where you’re going?” Avery asked, handing the wine bottle over to Rae. “That should breathe before serving, but it’ll go well with the pizza.”
Oh, right. Shit. Avery was a chef… who they’d invited over for pizza. In their heads, it had seemed like a good idea to invite her over to a good old-fashioned girls’ night/date planning dinner, but was DiGiorno going to be good enough for her?
“Uh, right.” Rae glanced nervously at Domi, looking as though she was having similar thoughts. At least they were all dressed the same. Rae had on a pair of leggings and an oversized shirt, while Domi and Avery were both in yoga pants and t-shirts. Avery’s had the Marquis restaurant logo on it, and her hair was up in its usual ponytail. Seeing their expressions, Avery looked uncertain.
“It’s a good wine,” she said as if she was trying to reassure them.
“I’m sure it is, I just… I just realized we’re serving a chef frozen pizza.” Domi gave her a lopsided grin, hoping she took it in good fun. Thankfully, Avery laughed, leaning her hip against the counter, and some of the tension leaked away from the room.
“Trust me, I’m no food snob,” Avery said, grinning. “Half the stuff I make for myself at home is microwavable. Cooking for other people all the time doesn’t really leave me in the mood to cook for myself.”
“Well, next time you come over, we’ll cook a real dinner for you,” Rae said, pulling the wine key out of their junk draw with a flourish. She cut the foil and peeled it off with practiced movements before starting to screw the opener into the cork. It had been a while since they’d had wine that didn’t come with a screw cap, but some skills were never forgotten.
Avery’s expression brightened at the idea. “That would be wonderful.”
That seemed to break the ice, and by the time they sat down to the pizza and wine, it almost felt as though Avery had always been part of their little group. She clicked with them in a way neither Morgan nor Samantha had.
“So, did you ever talk to Olivia about becoming a member of Stronghold?” Domi asked. Olivia was the manager of Marquis—the upstairs kinky part—and also the instructor for the new submissives class. A badass both on the streets and in the sheets, she was the kind of Domme nobody wanted to tick off. She was also incredibly protective of ‘her’ subs, which included almost every submissive to walk through a Stronghold or Marquis’ door, and not just her actual submissive and boyfriend, Luke.
Avery made a face, looking down at her pizza.
“No,” she sighed, taking a big bite of pizza and chewing as though it was comforting. Heck, it might be. Pizza was one of Domi’s comfort foods. She wasn’t sure why not talking to Olivia would get this kind of reaction. “I uh… well, Nick and I have been flirting a lot more, then this weekend… he kissed me, and…” She was turning beet red as she spoke, but she didn’t look entirely happy about the situation. “It was hot, and he’s very take-charge, but… I don’t think he’s kinky.”
“Is kinky a requirement?” Rae asked, glancing at Domi. Rae hadn’t completely sworn off the idea of a vanilla guy, though she’d prefer to find a kinky one, especially once she’d figured out where to look. Which was how they’d ended up at Stronghold in the first place. Domi hadn’t wanted a guy—at all—but now she couldn’t imagine herself with someone who wasn’t at least a little into the same things.
She didn’t need wild, kinky sex every time, but she couldn’t imagine giving it up entirely now.
“Maybe?” Avery shrugged. “It’s been so long since I’ve even had sex, I don’t know if I care.”
Ouch. Domi knew how that felt.
“So, your dry spell may be affecting your judgment,” she teased.