Bondage Buddies (Masters of Marquis #1) - Golden Angel Page 0,71

pretending she didn’t see the look Marcus and Julia exchanged as she focused back on Ana. “Dinner tonight is all about Miss Birthday Girl here.”

“Yay!” Ana beamed at her. “Can I have pudding and cake for dessert?”

“Sure,” Domi said. She had a feeling she was going to want to binge on her daughter’s leftovers later tonight. Ben and Jerry’s might not be enough to cut it.

Mitch

After leaving the restaurant, Mitch drove without really thinking about where he was going or even looking at the road. It was a freaking miracle he didn’t get into an accident.

Somehow, without thinking about it or meaning to, he ended up at Marquis. There was even a parking space right in front of the building as if it was waiting for him to arrive. Staring blankly at the front of the restaurant, Mitch wasn’t sure he really wanted to go in.

On the other hand, he didn’t know where else to go and could seriously use a drink. Somewhere to sit. Driving more probably wasn’t a good idea.

His stomach rumbled.

Food would be good. He’d left without getting his dinner, unable to stay in the restaurant and around his dad or Domi for one minute more. Food, a drink, and some time and space to think.

To hurt. Fuck. He’d broken up with Domi.

Mitch rubbed his chest, then started moving, getting out of the car, and going into the restaurant. He figured even if his dad came here with Master Patrick and the others, it wouldn’t be until later, and hopefully, they’d come in the back door.

Huh. He wondered if Patrick got the idea for Marquis from the Outlands. Mitch had never known Outlands was anything other than a regular restaurant during the day and a dance club at night. The idea seemed horribly possible.

Waving off the hostess, he headed straight for the bar, where there were thankfully still several open seats. Sliding onto one, he waited for the bartender, Shane, to notice him. He was an older gentleman who bartended because he liked it. He’d once told Mitch he enjoyed talking with all the different kinds of people who came by, though he wasn’t a fan of Mitch’s puns and bad jokes.

Bald with a salt and pepper goatee, broad shoulders, and a permanent half-smile on his face, he had the kind of aura that made people feel immediately comfortable around him. Seeing Mitch sitting down, Shane took one look at his expression and raised one eloquent eyebrow. He didn’t even ask what Mitch wanted, just turned around and started mixing.

Staring at the rows of liquor bottles above Shane’s head, Mitch wondered when his life had gotten so out of control. Had it been when he couldn’t let Domi go the first time she’d tried to end things between them? Had it been halfway through their bondage buddies’ arrangement when he hadn’t realized he was falling for her? Or was it from the very beginning, when he’d asked her to be his bondage buddy?

A multi-colored drink slid in front of him. Mitch stared at it.

“What is it?”

“Does it matter?” The half-smile on Shane’s face lifted slightly, turning a little fuller. “It’s a whiskey sour with a little something extra.”

Sour was exactly how Mitch felt. He hadn’t had one before, but he trusted Shane. The man was a master at mixology, and the few times he’d ignored Mitch’s usual preference for beer, he hadn’t been wrong.

Lifting the straw to his lips, Mitch took a sip, and flavor burst over his tongue. Sweet, sour, and a bit of a kick that spread warmth through his chest, loosening some of the tension there.

“Damn.” Mitch blinked. Shane’s smile widened. Lifting the glass in acknowledgment, Mitch took another long drink that emptied half the glass in one go. Shane’s smile slipped.

“I’ll be right back.” Shane stepped away, heading down the bar to someone else who needed his services.

That was fine. Mitch wasn’t sure he’d wanted the company, anyway. He was probably better off alone. That was why he’d broken up with Domi tonight, right? Alone. Party of one. The Playboy Dom.

So, why did it hurt so much?

Another long sip of drink. Sure, it had no answers, but it tasted good. All it needed was a little umbrella and a maraschino cherry, and it would be perfect.

A hand landed on his shoulder, making Mitch jump. Turning his head, he met the cool, grey eyes of Mistress Olivia—manager of Marquis, Domme extraordinaire, instructor of all introduction classes, protector of submissives, and ball buster of Doms.