I scoff, the irritated sound getting lost in the ocean breeze. “I didn’t even like him that much.”
I close my eyes against the burn the lie causes and settle back into the lounge chair. If going out and having fun will speed this pain along until I can breathe without feeling like I have a knife in my heart, then going out is what I’ll do.
***
“This is not what I had in mind,” I hiss after the man in the front room places a white band around my wrist.
“You should learn to ask the right questions,” Sarah chides with mirth as she presses her hand to the gold band around her own wrist.
“You would’ve lied even if I had.”
“Maybe?” She shrugs as she walks deeper into the room, forcing me to follow her because staying close is the only goal I have tonight. “You could’ve gotten a different color.”
I look down at the white band circling my wrist but knowing what it stands for doesn’t set me at ease.
“Yellow would’ve been more fitting.”
“I don’t think jumping in feet first on my maiden voyage in a sex club is smart,” I argue. “When you said we were going out, I figured we were going to belly up to a bar so I could drink my sorrows away.”
“Look.” She points across the room and my eyes follow the tip of her finger. “A bar. So, let’s belly up.”
Relief washes over me when I find only a couple people chatting at the bar. Ignoring the activities going on in plain sight, I smile at the bartender.
“Two drink limit. What can I get you, gorgeous?”
So much for drinking all of my pain away. Two drinks won’t even touch the issues I need to deal with going on in my life.
“Whiskey. Neat.”
His charming smile widens. “First time?”
“No,” I shake my head indignantly. “I’ve had whiskey before.”
Sarah chuckles beside me. “He means coming here.”
“Oh.” Embarrassment heats my cheeks, and it only proves that I’m so far out of my element. “Yes. First time.”
“For you, Lady Persephone?”
“Same,” Sarah answers, her eyes growing serious once again.
The bartender licks his lips before backing away to fill our drink order.
“He’s terrified of you,” I whisper. I love seeing her power and control.
The low lights of the bar shine off the gold on her wrist, and it makes me wonder if just the sight of it there is what caused such a reaction in him. The bartender’s thick, corded muscles work along his back as he lifts the whiskey bottle, tilting it to fill our glasses.
“He knows his place.” She winks at me before turning her back to the bar to scope out her surroundings.
“He’s submissive?” I keep my eyes on the side of her face, wanting to judge her reaction. “There’s no way. I mean look at him. He’s got probably seventy pounds on you.”
“Size doesn’t matter in this world,” she says as her head turns and she levels me with a stare.
“Don’t look at me like that. You know those eyes don’t work on me.”
Her grin is quick and genuine. “Too bad that band isn’t yellow. I’d show just how much of a reaction I can get from you.”
My skin tingles, the threat of being dominated by a woman a little thrilling, but I know it wouldn’t work between the two of us. Firstly, although I can appreciate her sexiness, I’m not into women. Secondly, there’s only one person who could make my skin tingle. Only one person I want commanding me, and as it turns out, he’s a lying asshole.
I turn back toward the bar, thanking the heavens the bartender dropped off our drinks before going to help another person.
I down the whiskey, pinching my eyes closed against the burn. When they reopen, my white band glares like a beacon. It makes me a coward, wearing a band that tells everyone around me that I’m off-limits, that I’m only here to watch. Yellow, as Sarah suggested would express my desire to be dominated by a man. Alternatively, an orange band would indicate my need for a woman to step in to get the job done.
“You don’t have to babysit me,” I find myself saying, even though the thought of her leaving my side even for a second makes my heart rate increase.
“And leave you here for the wolves to descend? Not likely.”
“I thought this,” I hold my arm up so she can see the white gleaming from my wrist, “was supposed to prevent that sort of thing.”
I’d doubted the ability of a colored band to control a group of oversexed-up people, and now she’s just confirmed it.
“No one will touch you, but that won’t prevent them from talking to you, trying to convince you that you can switch that band out for another color.”
The guy at the front had told me as much, but I knew when I selected the one I have, that I wouldn’t be changing my mind. It had nothing to do with being shy at first glance, and everything to do with the fact that I can’t even imagine anyone touching me but Wren. And that pissed me off nearly enough to make me go grab the black band that tells everyone around that I’m willing to do everything under the sun.