For The Love Of Sir (Doms of Decadence 3)

“Because you’re an annoying, immature bastard who likes to play stupid games.” Alex took a deep breath, shocked at himself. Where was his control? Sloan enjoyed needling him with cracks about his age and money, but normally he could ignore him.

“And you’re a wound-up old man. What’s wrong? Balls in a knot? I know a doctor who can help you with that.”

“Sloan, you might want to ease up, man,” Dylan muttered.

“Why? Because he’s mad that I’m going to play with Tara? What? He doesn’t want her, but no one else gets to have her either?”

“You don’t want her,” Alex growled. “You’re just toying with her to piss me off. I won’t let you use her like that.”

Sloan’s face grew dark. “I’m not using Tara. We’re going to do a scene together, we’re not running away to get hitched by an Elvis impersonator in Vegas. Although, I never say never. She is fucking hot.”

Alex clenched a fist, taking a step toward him. Dylan grabbed his arm, holding him back. Before he could push him away, Tilly stepped between him and Sloan.

“Can I get you something to drink, Master Alex?” she asked quietly, keeping her gaze on the ground.

“Tilly, what the fuck do you think you are doing?” Dylan asked in a harsh voice.

She flinched but stood her ground, despite the way she shook.

Alex immediately took a step back. He might be after Sloan’s blood but he would never put a sub in harm’s way. Why had she stepped in? Surely she had enough sense to keep away from a situation like this?

Dylan placed his hands on her shoulders, shaking her slightly. “You never, ever step between two fighting men.”

“I’m sorry, I thought Master Alex looked thirsty.”

Tilly kept her head down, but her shoulders were stiff and she was gripping her hands together tightly. She was scared.

Alex glanced around and noticed everyone staring at them. Christ, he couldn’t believe he’d been about to hit Sloan. Not exactly professional. Or rational. Two things he prided himself on being.

Dylan turned from chewing Tilly out to glare at them both. “Both of you take a time-out. On opposite sides of the club.”

With a grin and a mocking wave of his hand, Sloan wandered off.

“I apologize,” Alex said to Dylan stiffly. He was employed by Roarke to manage the staff, not get into fights with one of the members. He couldn’t believe that he’d let Sloan get to him.

“Just get it together, man. I don’t know what your problem with Sloan is, but this isn’t the way to deal with it.”

Dylan pulled Tilly away. Dylan might not be his boss, but he did manage the club and he had every right to be pissed off at Alex.

As much as it hurt his pride to be told off, he knew he deserved it. He was acting like a jealous school boy. Although he could be annoying, Alex had never let Sloan get to him until he’d started noticing Tara.

Alex had no claim on Tara. She could play with whomever she chose to.

“Alex? Are you okay?”

He glanced down to find Tara standing beside him.

“Is that how you address me?” he asked coldly.

She immediately dropped her gaze. “Sorry, Sir.”

“I suggest you get to work before I add to the punishment you’re owed.”

He felt like the world’s biggest asshole as she shut down, her face going blank. Tara didn’t open up much. The only time she’d ever asked for what she needed, he’d rejected her. She’d wanted him and he hadn’t been ready. Since then she’d been avoiding him.

He’d missed her.

“Tara—” he said as she turned away.