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Kate made an appreciative sound and leaned forward. “Sounds interesting. I hope he isn’t a sadist. I don’t think any of the subs we have right now are serious masochists. We have plenty of subs looking for Dominants. Run it by Mitch or Scott.” She smiled, but her eyes didn’t sparkle like usual.
“What’s wrong, Kate?”
Kate sighed. “Since nobody is playing, I guess we can sit down.” They both went to the comfortable red couch that was often used for aftercare. Jackson leaned back and watched Kate. She folded her legs, uncrossed them, and sighed again. “I went home with Chris after the weddings.”
“Okay.”
“We’re both dominant.”
“Yes, you are.”
“It was the best night of my life,” Kate confessed.
Now, that was something Jackson could relate to, and he nodded.
She continued. “He’s a player, a womanizer.”
Jackson understood—sometimes all the pieces of evidence in a case came together to solve the puzzle. “You’re in love with him.”
Kate nodded sadly. “I’ve been in lust with that man since the first time I laid eyes on him. First, we were just friends, but I’ve been falling for him more every time we speak or I watch him with a sub. That night was the proverbial nail to my coffin. He was perfect inalmostevery way. It’s more than lust now. It’s love.”
“Almost?” It was a vague word in itself, but it became distinct in the way she’d used it.
“Yes.” For the first time this evening some of her fire returned. “He faked submitting to me.”
Jackson’s jaw dropped.
“I. Did. Not. Fake. Anything!” someone growled from behind them.
Kate pressed her lips together, and her eyes turned dark. She slowly turned her head around. “You’re a Dom,” she practically spat at the looming figure behind them.
“Not with you,” Chris threw back, “apparently.”
“How is that even possible?” she snarled. “You’ve never had a tendency to switch before!”
“Guys.” Jackson held up his hands, but before he could continue, Scott stepped between Chris and Kate.
“Jackson, man the bar, will you?” Without waiting for an answer, Scott directed his focus onto Chris and Kate. “You two come with me. This is not something you discuss where everyone can hear.” Scott marched away from the main room, Chris and Kate following him like two lost puppies.
Although Scott was a good therapist, Jackson had never witnessed him in full Dom mode, and it was a sight to behold.
CHAPTER FIVE
Jackson Cagney stared at nothing while he nursed a beer at Club Indigo. Paula had been gone for more than ten weeks, and all he’d been able to find out was that she’d gone undercover for the State Police. Who knew how long she would stay away? He’d been doing at least one DM shift every weekend to keep his mind off her absence.
He slumped onto the barstool, elbows braced on the polished wood surface as he exhaled slowly. Club Indigo hummed around him—soft music, murmured negotiations, the occasional crack of leather meeting flesh—but he barely registered any of it. Tonight, his usual refuge felt hollow.
If only he could talk to Paula.
But Paula had pulled a Houdini, vanishing like she’d never existed. No messages. No clues. Only silence.
He raked a hand through his hair, frustration curling in his gut like a slow burn. The worst part? Hegot it. He knew the job—knew the weight of it, the risks—but that didn’t make it any easier to accept.
When he was still in the same position an hour later, Scott came over to check on him. “What’s up, Jackson?
Jackson glanced up. Scott stood on the other side of the bar, wiping a glass that looked pretty dry to him.
He raised an eyebrow. “Am I talking to Scott the bartender or Scott the psychologist?”
