“He needed cover,” Branch bit out. “Now, baby, answer my fucking question.”
“My friends wanted me back,” she said.
“And the guy you’re sharing your bed with thought your ass was at home, watching TV.”
“Branch—”
“But instead, he saw you on the monitors hanging with a Dom who wants another crack at your pussy.”
She swayed back.
He pulled her forward.
“I know all that happened, Evangeline.”
“Okay,” she said softly.
“And I know that guy doesn’t give a shit you’re a Domme. He’d go sub for ten minutes to get on his knees and beg you to partner with him.”
“I don’t think Damian—”
“He wants you, Angie. Doms work together all the time, that work gets hands-on between the Doms and you know it and he wants that with you. Again. And again. And a-fuckin’-gain.”
Her eyes drifted to the screens as she murmured, “I was kind of getting that when he said he wanted to have dinner with me.”
Branch’s vision exploded.
“Say what?”
She gave her attention back to Branch. “I said lunch. He said dinner.”
“Babe, you’re not havin’ lunch with this guy.”
“I—”
“Repeat after me, ‘Branch, honey, I am not havin’ lunch or dinner or anything with this guy.’”
She went still and stared up at him.
“You’re not repeating after me,” he warned.
She jerked like he’d forced her from a stupor and shifted toward him, putting a calming hand on his chest.
“Branch, honey,” she started in that sexy voice of hers, “I’m not having lunch or dinner or anything with Damian.”
“You are correct. You’re not.”
“We’re exclusive,” she said, and Branch was too pissed to hear that it came shyly. “I don’t share. And clearly, you don’t share either.”
“Correct again. I do not share. Not you.”
She went silent and stared up into his eyes, standing close, smelling good, her hand on his chest.
Branch just stared back, trying to get a lock on his temper.
Eventually, she spoke. “You’re hot when you’re being all alpha-possessive.”
“You can show your appreciation of that by fucking me raw and draining my dick dry when I’m not this pissed at you.”
Her head tipped to the side with curiosity and not a hint of fear.
“You’re pissed at me?”
“Angie, you were in the hall of a sex club with another man.”
“He invited me to watch a scene. Sixx is working.”
“Angie, you were in the hall of a sex club with another man when I thought you were at home, alone, waiting for me.”
Understanding clearly fully dawned because she gave him that look he’d only had once, but he’d become addicted to it at a glance, the soft one, before she got closer, slid her hand up to his neck and whispered, “I’m sorry. You’re right. I thought, since you were out working, not knowing you were working here, obviously, that seeing as everyone has been asking me to come back, and to make them feel better and think I am back, I’d take this opportunity to come into the Honey. Gab with some friends. See and be seen. Then go home.” Her hand at his neck gave a slight squeeze. “I wasn’t going to do anything, not with Damian, not with anybody. I didn’t even think I’d go back to the playrooms. But Sixx is working and, well…” She grinned. “Watching Sixx, a girl could get ideas.”
“It goes without saying I’m all about you feeding your imagination, Angie. But if I’ve got shit to do that takes me away from you, you wanna hit the Honey, you let me know. I won’t hit it with you but I got an in to keep an eye on shit, and if it goes south, I’ll get a call so I can get my ass here.”
Her fingers at his neck squeezed hard, and for a second, what was wafting off her filled the room.
Then it cleared away.
“Nothing will happen to me here, Branch,” she said softly.
“I know,” he returned firmly.
She quieted but that soft look came back, it was also warm, and he felt both in his gut, his dick, his balls and all through his chest.
It felt phenomenal.
However.
“Are we understood?” he pressed.
“We’re understood, Branch.”
Hearing that, he walked direct to the wide-seated, comfortable rolling desk chair he’d vacated, dragging her with him. He sat in it, pulled her ass into his lap and leaned them both forward to turn the knob that would open comms to the earpiece Pat was wearing.
“You keep patrol until I tell you you can come back,” he ordered into the room.
“Sorry, repeat?” Pat’s voice could be heard asking.
“You keep patrol until I tell you that you can come back.”
“Doesn’t work that way, Dillinger.”
“Does tonight.”
“Dude—”
“I got someone in here with me and we’re settled in.”
“That is not on, Dillinger,” Pat returned irately. “No one but security and staff in—”
“You call Aryas right now and ask if he’s cool with me sittin’ the night in control with one of his members. He’ll know what you’re sayin’ and he’ll tell you that you keep patrol until I tell you that you can come back. Now are you comin’ here and gettin’ in my face about this so we call Aryas together so he can tell you to back off and be pissed you interrupted him in whatever the fuck he’s doing right now? Or are you gonna keep patrol?”
There was silence.
Then Pat replied, “I’ll keep patrol.”
“Good call.”
He turned off outbound comms, sat back and looked to the screens.
Evangeline fiddled with the collar of the dark-blue dress shirt he was wearing.
He was dressed like a member, suit jacket, slacks, nice shirt, nice shoes that weren’t all that comfortable. None of it was. He couldn’t imagine working in an office.
But to be part of the scenery, you had to wear camouflage.
“Your last name is Dillinger,” she whispered.
It was now.
“Yup.”
A beat of silence ensued before, “You look nice dressed up, Branch.”
He glanced at her to see her eyes to his shirt then he turned back to the screens.
“I’m counting the minutes I can rip this shit off.”
He heard her giggle and that hit warm in his chest too.
“You’re definitely a cargo pants and jeans guy.”
He grunted because he felt it unnecessary to put too much effort into agreeing to the obvious.
“Um … so, can you, well … explain what just went down with Amélie’s Olly?”
He looked down at her. “He’s a friend.”
Her brows rose. “He is?”
“A good one.”
“Oh,” she mumbled.
He turned back to the screens.
“I’m thinking he knows about us now,” she noted.
She was undoubtedly right.
And damn if he didn’t give a fuck about that either.
“Ol isn’t stupid, so yeah.”
“And he’ll tell Leigh.”
He didn’t have to.
She knew too.
“Yeah.”
“Are you okay with that?”
He looked down at her. “Those two. And you should know, Aryas knows.”
“Oh,” she mumbled again.
“Those two and Aryas only. I’ll have a word with Olly later. I’ll tell him to have a word with his woman. Tell them to keep it to themselves. But only those three, Angie.”
She nodded.
No discussion. No pushing.
She just nodded.
Like when he started their chat last night and he told her not to skip down the stairs. She seemed confused, but when she got it, she got it, agreed to be safe and there it was.
No argument. No bickering.
There it was.
She also didn’t push to know what was behind what he was saying now.