Page 31 of Pressure

Laying his hand on Marissa’s shoulder, he said, “This is Riss. She’s also my sub now.”

Jodie’s mouth opened and closed again. Speechless.

Marissa stuck her hand out. “Nice to meet you, Jodie.”

Jodie didn’t take her hand. “Um. Yeah. Definitely. I should go apologize to Isabelle now.”

“Third parlor room in ten minutes girl,” Lance said, warning heavy in his tone.

When Jodie was gone, he turned back to her and cupped her cheek, his lip caressing her still tender lips.

“Sorry,” he murmured. “I got carried away with the kiss and then…” he trailed off as he looked in the direction Jodie had disappeared to.

She cleared her throat and looked out over the balcony. “It’s… it’s OK. I mean, don’t do it again. But it’s OK. I always enjoyed making out with you.”

He let his head fall back as he laughed.

“Come on then. I need to deal with Jodie. I’ll settle you at the bar.

The music grew louder again as he opened the curtains. She gasped when he grabbed a fistful of her hair and tugged her along with him instead of holding her hand.

“Just keeping up appearances,” he said with a wicked grin.

She gave him her best glare and he eventually let go of her hair only to reclaim her hand.

Back in the bar, they sat at the counter where Lance introduced her to Mitch.

“He’s our head bartender and makes a mean drink.”

Marissa grinned. “Nice to meet you, Mitch. How long have you been part of Solitaire?”

“I’ve been here since opening night. I’m here so often I got an apartment in town. I co-own a handful of bars with Hunter and that’s how I got the invite.”

She nodded. These people were so intertwined in and out of the club. It was like one big family. A family she would love to be part of, but it just didn’t seem possible.

She stared at Lance as he made small talk with Mitch. Letting him kiss her had been a mistake. Delicious, but still a mistake.

The guilt and self-loathing simmered in her gut as she half listened to the conversation. Spinning on the barstool, she caught sight of Jodie making her way to what must be the parlor room. She had a feeling that’s where house subs received punishment. A shudder flitted through her as she thought about it.

The rest of the bar was mostly empty since the party was in full swing in the dungeon. As she scanned the room and landed on the lobby door, it opened, and a tall black man stepped in wearing a bespoke gray suit. He oozed Dom as his eyes darted around the room. They landed on her and Lance and he strode with purpose in their direction.

Marissa tapped Lance. “You know him?”

Lance turned in the direction she was pointing.

“Son of a bitch.” Lance jumped off the barstool and met the stranger halfway. “Where the hell have you been, Samuel?”

“Not now. We’ll talk later. I just came to tell you I’m here now and you can stop worrying.”

Marissa watched as Lance begrudgingly accepted the man’s answer. He turned and motioned for her to join him.

“This is Marissa, my new sub.”

“What happened to Jodie? I thought we weren’t taking new members.”

Lance winked. “If you’d bothered to check-in, you would know the details. She’s not really my sub. She’s working for us a bit undercover.”

The guilt and self-loathing returned as he uttered the words, “she’s not really my sub.” It was harmless and true, and she knew Lance meant nothing by it, but she couldn’t help but feel his rejection all over again.

“Excuse me. I need to leave. It was lovely to meet you.”

“Wait,” Lance said with that same tone he’d used on Jodie. That just made it fucking worse.

She shook her head. His eyes narrowed and he lifted a hand to her cheek.

“Firewall,” she whispered.

---