Yeah, she got it. That wasn’t what he wanted, so she couldn’t blame him for not trying to keep her around. Still, it hurt.
Stupid heart.
Mitch
Looking around Stronghold, he didn’t know whether to feel relieved or disappointed when he didn’t see the familiar riot of curly hair he automatically sought out. As usual, there were plenty of beautiful submissives in the Lounge area, all chatting with their friends while they waited for interested Doms to come by, but he didn’t feel the slightest inclination to initiate a scene with any of them.
Just like he hadn’t for weeks.
Instead, he headed toward the bar where he saw Kincaid sitting, looking at the Lounge area with a contemplative expression. He was wearing his usual leather pants and vest combination, his dark hair waving back from his face. Mitch knew a lot of the subs at Stronghold and Marquis had massive crushes on him.
“What’s up?” Mitch asked, settling onto the stool next to him.
He glanced over and realized Kincaid was watching Zach talking to one of the subs in the Lounge. The pretty blonde was a pain slut and long-time member who Mitch had played with before and made a good play partner. She was engaged, but her fiancé was vanilla and let her come to the club to get her needs met. Perfect for not getting attached. If Mitch hadn’t made his arrangement with Domi, he might have considered one with Amy, but… well, he also liked sex.
And he’d really liked sex with Domi.
“Not much,” Kincaid said, bringing his scotch up to take a sip. He glanced at Mitch and frowned, refocusing all the attention he’d been giving to Zach and Amy from afar. “What’s wrong?”
Shit, was it that easy to tell something was up? Mitch shrugged but felt his shoulders tighten at the question.
“Domi ended our arrangement today.” He stared out over the club. The dance floor had a few participants, bumping and grinding, but they didn’t provide much of a show. No wonder Kincaid had been watching Zach and Amy. Well, that and because Kincaid had a thing for Zach.
Mitch didn’t know exactly how far that went, and it wasn’t his business, but he knew it was true. He was pretty sure Zach had a thing for Kincaid, too, although he was harder to read.
“I’m sorry, man, I know you liked her.” Kincaid spun around on his seat, holding up his hand to draw one of the bartenders’ attention. A moment later, Master Andrew appeared in front of them; his dark black hair waved back away from a tanned face, dark eyes intense as always. Mitch always thought he looked kind of like a bulkier, more muscular Antonio Banderas.
“What can I get you?” Master Andrew asked, eyeing them speculatively. There was a small group of Doms who were friends with the owner of Stronghold, and they all had a certain air of authority about them, even compared to the other Doms within the club. Master Andrew was one of those. As a Master Sadist, he’d helped give both Mitch and Zach some extra training once they’d made it through Stronghold’s class for new Doms.
“Mitch here needs a breakup drink,” Kincaid said, his hand coming down on Mitch’s shoulder in commiseration. Master Andrew’s face changed to an expression of sympathy.
“Aw, I’m sorry to hear that, man. You and Domi were good together.”
“We didn’t break up,” Mitch said, scowling at Kincaid and shrugging his hand off of his shoulder. “We weren’t really together, so we can’t have broken up.”
Both Master Andrew and Kincaid gave Mitch a questioning look, their expressions so alike, it was a little unnerving.
“How long has it been since you scened with anyone other than Domi?” Kincaid asked. Mitch’s lips tightened, and he scowled harder, crossing his arms over his chest.
“Didn’t you go on dates to Marquis?” Master Andrew asked, a smile starting to grow. Part of the reason he and Mitch got along well was they had similar senses of humor, so Mitch wasn’t surprised to be teased, but he didn’t have to enjoy it. “Even before you stopped scening with anyone else, she was the only one you took there.”
“Does it feel like you’re broken up?” Kincaid poked his shoulder. “You don’t look like you right now, man. You look all sad and shit. How do you think I knew something was wrong?”
“Yup.” Master Andrew nodded. “In fact, I know exactly what to make you. You need a breakup drink.” He turned away to grab ingredients off the shelves behind him.
Groaning, Mitch let his head fall to the smooth wooden surface of the bar and banged it a couple times.
“What’s going on? Why is Mitch banging his head?” Brian asked from behind him. A hand patted him on the back. “You okay, buddy?”
“Domi ended their arrangement today,” Kincaid said blandly, his tone neutral, mimicking Mitch’s words.
“Aw, Domi broke up with you? I’m sorry, Mitch.”
Mitch groaned and banged his head again. Today sucked. Hard.
“Here you go.” Master Andrew slid something next to Mitch’s head. He turned and looked at it.
The drink was pink on the bottom, yellow through most of it, and had an umbrella sticking out of it with a maraschino cherry stuck on a little toothpick. Brian and Kincaid were looking at it with something akin to horror—they didn’t do mixed drinks. Heck, Brian barely drank liquor.
“What is that?” Kincaid asked.
Mitch smiled. Master Andrew knew him well. “Pineapple upside-down cake.”
“Will your man card be revoked after drinking that?” Kincaid quipped, his lips twitching.
“Hell, no. Only the bravest men drink these.” Mitch straightened and picked up the drink with a flourish, feeling a bit more like himself. “The ones completely secure in their manliness.”
“And those without tastebuds,” Brian muttered, his lips twitching. The drink was sickeningly sweet, but it was also exactly what Mitch needed right now—something sweet to soothe the beast.
Chapter Six
Domi
“Do you think the green is unprofessional?” Rae asked, peering into the bathroom mirror. Even the bathrooms in Marquis were posh, with lots of gleaming black-and-ivory tiles with red accents, a couch, and a little sitting room with extra full-length mirrors just inside the main door before reaching the actual bathroom. Rae was standing in front of the gilt mirror above the sink, more drunk than sober, staring at the lime green braids threaded through her hair almost suspiciously.
“I’m the last person you should ask,” Domi said with a snort. “I wake up and put on ‘work pajamas.’ Sometimes, I don’t even do that.” One of the many benefits of working from home.
Rae rolled her eyes.
“You still know what looks professional.” She frowned into the mirror.
“Is someone at work giving you a hard time?”
“Not exactly, but Sheila from HR has made a few comments about keeping hair colors more to natural colors.” Rae made a face. “As if her fire engine red is natural. That’s only natural on the Little Mermaid.” Domi giggled.
“I don’t think the green is unprofessional,” Domi said, tilting her head and looking at it. It wasn’t as if the green was all over Rae’s head, just a few braids scattered against the black. Though Domi had to admit, she didn’t think she’d seen too many accountants with green hair.