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“I was so pissed at Edith,” Carrie said.

“Why?”

“I thought for sure you had followed me and somehow managed to sneak in here. I’m incredibly careful about where I go when it comes to kink. Edith makes me feel safe. She assured me Gage was as protective of privacy as she is.”

“I’ve never been to Edith’s, but if I had to guess, I would bet that Gage is more protective.” Peter patted her knee.

Carrie shifted her leg away from him. “So what now?”

“What do you mean?”

“This has to be weird for you. It’s sure as hell weird for me. Especially since we’ve… you know.”

“You mean especially since I’ve fucked you? Sweetheart, you’re not the first woman I’ve played with who I’ve had to watch play with someone else at one of these parties. I’m sure I’ll survive.”

So he was a player. Of course he was. No man who fucked like he did wasn’t a player.

Carrie took a deep breath. “So, I’m going to go make sure Reggie is OK.”

Peter tossed his head back and laughed.

“What’s so funny?” Carrie asked.

Peter shook his head. “It’s nothing. Just the thought of Reggie needing someone to check on him. He’s practically my brother. I can assure you he’s fine.”

Carrie shook her head. This was getting weirder and weirder. “When I get back can we leave so things don’t get any more awkward?”

Peter looked surprised. “You sure Reggie won’t mind you leaving?”

“Positive. Tonight was the first time I’d ever met him and we were just seeing if we clicked. He’s fun, but I doubt we play together again.”

For a split second, Carrie could have sworn she saw a look of pleasure in his eyes. Was he happy she wasn’t pursuing his friend?

“Go talk to him. I want to stick around for a bit. But we can leave if it gets awkward. I promise.”

Reggie was already negotiating a second scene with another girl. Peter was right, he didn’t need to be checked on. She winked at him over her shoulder and moved to the kitchen where she found Peter opening a bottle of water. She grabbed a plate and loaded it with chips and dip and a cupcake before grabbing a soda out of the ice chest.

“Do you have a death wish or something?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Soda? Really? How many cups of coffee have you had today?”

She scowled. “Three and a Red Bull. Why are you so obsessed with my caffeine addiction?”

“So, you admit it’s an addiction?”

Her eyebrows furrowed. “Of course, it’s an addiction. It’s just not one I feel bad about having.”

Peter gave a disapproving shake of his head and took a long pull off his bottle of water. “And your plate. Do you ever eat anything healthy?”

“I had onion rings the other night. That counts as a vegetable.”

Peter laughed. “Not even a little. Just humor me and drink some damn water.” He pulled another bottle from the cooler and handed it to her.

She wrinkled her nose at the water but took it, anyway.

“Good girl.”

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