Rae, on the other hand, was totally a babygirl, she just couldn’t bring herself to admit it. Just coming to the submissive classes had been a struggle for her. A strong feminist who believed women should be able to do whatever they wanted—including submitting to a man—she’d had trouble with the idea of her submitting. After the class where Rae had tried out age play with Daddy Dom Brian, Domi had thought her bestie might quit, all together.
But Rae had insisted on joining Domi if this was what she really wanted to do because she wasn’t going to let her face “all that kinky shit” alone. Loyalty had outweighed her struggle with her own desires. That or she was using Domi’s interest to give her an excuse to keep exploring kink as well. Probably a bit of both.
“Stupid stairs,” Domi muttered under her breath as her heels sank into the plush carpet. They could have used the elevator, but she would have felt lazy doing so for only one floor when there were people who actually needed the elevator.
“Should have worn shorter heels,” Rae said, snickering at Domi over her shoulder. In her much shorter heels, she was having no trouble climbing and got to the top in half the time it took Domi.
“Shut it,” was Domi’s super creative comeback. By the time she made it to the top of the stairs, her thighs and calves were burning, and she was panting slightly. That last part, she was going to blame on her corset.
Rae was already chatting with Freddy and Tracey, who were manning the front desk. Show-off. Pretending she didn’t feel the burn in her legs, Domi sashayed her way over to the front desk, tugging her pleather skirt back into place. Greeting Freddy and Tracey, she chatted with them a bit before Freddy led her and Rae into the showroom.
The booths were already filling up, most of them with groups rather than couples, interestingly enough. Domi glanced around the room, looking to see who was there. They were mostly familiar faces, a few people with the curtain drawn across their booth for more privacy before the show started, and... Master Mitch.
Not just Mitch. Brian was sitting next to Morgan in a booth, Mitch across from her, while Kincaid and Zach were standing on either side, leaning in for the conversation. As usual, Morgan was the center of male attention, just like she had been during class.
Domi didn’t get what the Doms saw in her. She was superficial, shallow, and constantly hanging off of the guys to get their attention... Hmm. Okay, maybe she did get what the Doms saw in her, but she really expected better from them—especially from Mitch.
Wasn’t he supposed to be at work? That’s what he’d told her. Domi hadn’t thought twice about it, knowing he worked some crazy hours.
A thread of jealousy wove its way through her, making her stomach churn. Was he here with Morgan? Domi thought she was the only one who came to Marquis with him. That’s what he’d said, but he was sitting across from her... although when he brought Domi here, they always sat in the back of the booth, right next to each other.
Except the first night—when they’d been negotiating their dibs.
“What, are they her harem now?” Rae asked, her footsteps slowing alongside Domi’s. There was a note of possessive jealousy in her voice. No matter how she insisted she wasn’t a baby girl, and she didn’t want a Daddy Dom, she could never hide she had a thing for Master Brian—aka Daddy Brian.
He was the only Dom whom Domi hadn’t had sex with during the classes because she’d known how that would make Rae feel. The others had been fair game, but not him. Even if Rae wouldn’t admit her feelings, Domi respected that boundary.
Too bad Morgan didn’t respect anyone’s feelings. Something else that had been made clear during the classes.
“It must be the boobs,” Domi said. “When you pay for them, you can make sure there’s enough for four men to handle.”
Rae snickered. “Hair color from the bottle, boobs from the surgeon... do you think any part of her is real?”
“I’m sure her feelings are.” The low, sharp voice interrupting their observations made both of them jump guiltily. Domi hadn’t realized they were talking loudly enough for anyone else to hear, but Freddy must have come back to fetch them when they’d slowed down to ogle Morgan’s table. Domi had never seen that particular expression on his face—unfriendly, cold, and censuring. Shameful heat rose, turning her cheeks red. Freddy crossed his arms over his chest. “Is there a problem between the three of you I’m unaware of? Something that she’s done to you?”
“No,” Rae and Domi both whispered at the same time. Domi’s gaze dropped to study her shoes, and out of the corner of her eye, she could see Rae doing the same. Freddy was one of the nicest people in the world unless he saw someone stepping out of line, and the fact he’d caught her and Rae was mortifying. Especially because she really had no defense. Everything Domi could think of to say to try to excuse herself sounded hypocritical and judgmental, even in her own head.
She’s always trying to get attention from the Doms.
So what? Most of the single submissives were. On any given night, Domi might be, too. Just because lately, she’d been focusing her attention on one particular Dom didn’t mean she hadn’t been part of that in the past. Rae still was.
She really does have fake boobs.
Yeah, Domi didn’t think that was going to fly with Freddy. He didn’t seem like he cared. Domi didn’t really either; it had just… come out—something that made her feel slightly sick now that she was thinking about it. She really didn’t know anything about Morgan… If she’d had breast cancer or something, Domi was going to feel like a total asshole.
She’s not friendly. Or at least, she’s only friendly with the Doms.
Morgan wasn’t the only submissive who could be described that way, either. Some of them were kind of aloof. Recently, Domi had overheard someone talking about her and Rae that way—they tended to stick together at the club and hadn’t really branched out. They’d been like that in their daily lives as well. As long as they had each other, they hadn’t really needed anyone else.
Yeah, Morgan had annoyed her a little during classes, but back then, Domi had just rolled her eyes and ignored her. She definitely hadn’t felt the need to trash talk her.
So why was she being such a catty bitch tonight?
I’m jealous.
The realization hit her like a freight train.
After months of being Mitch’s first dibs, months where she’d scened with other people, months where she’d been totally fine knowing he was scening with other people, she simply wasn’t anymore. When was the last time she’d even scened with someone else? A month and a half ago, or about that, with a new Dom to the club, Master Law. Lawrence was his real name, but one of the subs had called him Master Law when she found out he was a lawyer, and it had stuck. Since Domi hadn’t scened with him before, they’d agreed to no sex. She’d been relieved he hadn’t expected or wanted that from her.
She hadn’t wanted to have sex with anyone but Mitch. She just hadn’t known it at the time or hadn’t been willing to admit to it—even to herself.
Fuck.
Years of not wanting a relationship, of not finding a single guy she was interested in having a relationship with, and now she had to go and develop feelings? And for Master Mitch, the playboy Dom, of all the Doms she could have gotten a crush on.