CHAPTER TWELVE
Kenna met Griffin at Blasphemy on Thursday night. They’d come to the club separately because he had to work a shift at registration, and she’d had a late-afternoon phone interview with Craig about the Assistant Director position.
And it had gone so damn good that she could barely stand still.
They wanted to bring her in for an all-day interview next week, but Craig had made it sound like that was pro forma, and that the job was all but hers.
Which was one more thing about which to feel excited—and equally anxious.
Between her anticipation about the job, her fear of going to Florida tomorrow to face George’s mom, and how overloaded with emotions she’d been all week, Kenna was one giant bundle of nervous energy. It was good, but it was also overwhelming. And it kept making her feel like she had something to panic about, when really, she didn’t. She knew she didn’t.
At least Master Quinton made waiting for Griffin fun, by telling stories about his new niece peeing on him and marveling about just how bad babies’ poop smelled. “I mean, she looks so damn angelic, and then that smell!”
He had everyone at the bar laughing.
Two men joined them, and by the black cuffs embroidered with a Gothic ‘M’ they both wore, they were Blasphemy Masters, too. The Doms looked familiar to her, but she couldn’t recall their names.
The man with the longish, dark blond hair turned to her first. “Are you Kenna Sloane, by any chance?”
Surprise flooded through her. “Oh, yes, I am, Sir.”
His smile was warm and inviting. “I’m Master Jonathan, and this is Master Cruz.” The other man nodded. With short black hair, dark eyes, and warm brown skin, the two were a delicious study in contrasts.
“Nice to meet you,” she said, shaking their hands, but also feeling a little awkward. Because if they were about to propose a scene—
“We wanted to thank you for your service. And your sacrifice. Master Griffin mentioned you were in the Marines. We both served in the Navy,” Master Jonathan said, gesturing between them.
Relief flooded through her, and then the sense quickly followed that she was among kindred spirits. In so many ways. “Thank you,” she said. “And thanks for your service, too. You Navy boys were always good for a ride.” She winked, preparing herself for them to throw shit right back her way.
Master Cruz smirked. “Know what Marine stands for?”
There it was. Kenna was already laughing, because the Navy and Corps had a long tradition of working together, and rivalry that could border on the hilariously brutal. “What’s that, sailor?”
“My Ass Rides In Naval Equipment.”
“Nah, Cruz. You got that one wrong. It means My Ass Really Is Naval Equipment,” Master Jonathan said.
Kenna made a face even though she couldn’t keep the humor out of her expression. “Yeah, well, at least the Marines—”
“Master Jonathan, why are you talking about your ass to my woman?” came a voice from behind her. Master Griffin.
Jonathan turned with a big grin and shook Griffin’s hand. “Just a little naval humor, Master Griffin. And did you know your submissive is a mouthy little thing?” he asked, but his voice was fully of teasing.
“Is she now?” His brow arched over dark, smiling eyes.
“I’m sorry, Sir,” she said, feigning innocence. “They were lamenting that their military service involved floating around on a toy in a tub, and I was just commiserating.”
“Damn,” Master Quinton said from behind the bar. Kenna was two seconds from busting into giggles.
“Spank her ass for us, would ya?” Master Cruz said, smirking at her. Of the two men, Cruz seemed more serious—and more intense—than Jonathan. But she liked them both right away.
“I’ll take it under consideration,” Master Griffin said.
“Hey!”
He nailed her with a stare. “Do you have something you’d like to say, little one?”
“No, Sir,” she said, glaring at Cruz who just grinned at her.
“Good, then, let’s go. Because I’ve been thinking about you all day.”
***
As they made for the playroom, Kenna couldn’t stop smiling. “You told them about my service, Sir?”