CHAPTER 4 #2
I completely understood the disbelief my two best friends expressed when they talked about the fact I still proudly carried my V-card.
In this day and age, it was unusual for a twenty-four-year-old woman not to have been in some sort of physical relationship with a man or two.
It was true, nonetheless. Not only had I not had intercourse with a man, I also hadn’t done anything else.
No beneath-the-clothes groping in the dark, no oral sex.
Most people probably wouldn’t buy that I’d never even been kissed, but it was true, too.
The one time Billy Boyd snuck up on me and smacked his lips on my cheek during my senior year of high school did not count.
As far as I was concerned, there were two reasons I was still a virgin: First of all, my brother was none other than the ruthless Sadist who could melt lesser men with a simple look.
While my brother’s intimidation factor helped, I wasn’t giving him all the credit.
I was, after all, a smart woman, and I could make decisions for myself.
Who I slept with was certainly a decision I wouldn’t be taking lightly.
Secondly, I hadn’t found the guy I wanted to give it up to yet.
Evidently, basing my answer on my reaction, Tiffany shook her head. “Well, that’s too bad.”
I took a huge bite of my sandwich to avoid blurting out that I honestly hoped Edge and Cav would be the ones to take it in the very near future.
There were some things a girl needed to keep to herself.
Although our classes didn’t align well, our schedules always seemed to.
Like me, Tiffany was pursuing her doctorate in psychology, a major she’d chosen after she’d taken a psychology class her freshman year.
We actually met on campus, in a study group.
We’d become fast friends, along with Jonah Watson, another student in that study group.
It hadn’t taken long to realize how much the three of us had in common, and since then, we’d spent countless hours in each other’s company.
“What’s his name?”
“Gregory Edge,” I said, not bothering to pretend not to know who she was talking about.
“Master Edge,” she said dreamily. “Has a nice ring to it.”
That it did.
Tiffany leaned closer. “Did he spank you?”
I laughed through my embarrassment. “No, he did not.”
“Too bad.”
“We talked,” I explained. “He showed me around. His friend showed up, and the three of us wandered the club together.”
She pointed a French fry at me. “He has a friend?”
“I’m sure he has a lot of friends.” I grabbed the Coke we were sharing.
“Is he single?”
“Yes.” I didn’t bother to tell her that I was also interested in him. I couldn’t. Not yet.
“Did you guys talk about sexy things?”
“We did.” I went on to explain how I’d mentioned that I was working on my dissertation and that I needed their help. I didn’t go into detail about the theme room or the way Edge had gone all alpha on me. I was still trying to wrap my head around that myself.
“So they agreed to help you with your paper?”
I nodded. “They agreed to let me get a glimpse into BDSM.”
“You’re so lucky. Why didn’t I do something on human sexuality?” she asked absently. “You get to have all the fun.”
This coming from the girl who’d had at least one date a week for the past couple of years.
Okay, maybe not that many, but Tiffany certainly had a more active social life than I did.
Despite the fact she was frequently going out with men, she wasn’t interested in settling down.
According to her, she was playing the field.
And though one date a week would equate to roughly fifty-two men per year, Tiffany was extremely discriminating when it came to who she slept with.
“How’s Mark?” I asked, referring to the only man she allowed herself to be intimate with. According to Tiffany, they were friends with benefits and mutually exclusive when it came to sex. She insisted that it was safer that way.
I had to agree with her. I liked Mark. He was a nice guy, but he certainly wasn’t the type of guy I would see Tiffany with in the long run.
She smiled dreamily. “He’s good. He came over last night.” She grinned widely. “We spent some time studying.”
Did I mention Mark O’Conner was a professor at the school? Well, he was, and Tiffany was enjoying the time she spent with him.
“Of course you did.” I wrapped up the other half of my sandwich, tucking it back into the bag. I would save it for dinner since my classes ran late on Monday night.
“When are you going back to the club?”
I shrugged, finished off what she left me of the chocolate shake. “Don’t know.”
“Are you seeing Master Edge again?” The way she said his name, all breathless, made it sound like a taboo relationship.
“He wants to get together,” I explained. “To assess whether or not I’m a good fit for his training class.”
Tiffany slapped her hands on the table. “Shut. Up.”
I giggled, loving her reaction.
“You’re gonna be a submissive?”
I offered another shrug. “Not sure yet. He has to make that decision.”
“Oh, my God. You’re so lucky.” Her eyes shot across the food court to the clock on the wall. “Damn it. I have to get back.”
When she started to gather up the trash, I waved her off. “Go,” I insisted. “I’ve got this.”
Tiffany nodded, grabbed the Coke as she stood. “You’ve got class tonight, right?”
I nodded.
“Text me tomorrow. We need to get together with Jonah so you can give him all the juicy details. He’ll go nuts.”
“I will,” I assured her as she was walking off.
As I watched my friend leave, I couldn’t wipe the smile off my face, my thoughts drifting back to Edge and Cav, to Friday night. I’d heard from Cav on Saturday, a few short texts completely innocent in nature. I’d been thinking about texting him again, but figured I didn’t want to appear too eager.
Unfortunately, I hadn’t heard from Edge yet. I was waiting, hoping. Strangely, I was enjoying the anticipation, because for the first time in a very long time, I had something to look forward to.
CAV
Zeke Lautner was a giant of a man. Six foot eight, probably close to three hundred pounds of solid muscle, not to mention the sinister glare that seemed to be his default expression. I could see how he intimidated people.
However, since I was on the path to working for the man, my main objective was to keep us on an even keel.
I wasn’t the sort who was easily intimidated, and I think he figured that out early on in our interview when we’d engaged in a few minutes of small talk.
What did I think of the Chicago traffic?
It sucked. How long had I been back? A couple of days.
Was I interested in working for Chatter? Yes, I was.
Since then, we’d moved on, but I could sense this was the part of the interview Zeke wasn’t all that comfortable with. As of yet, he hadn’t delved too deeply into my past experience, but I got the feeling he was trying to work around to it.
“You ever manage people?” he asked casually, leaning back in the leather executive chair.
We were sitting in a conference room that held at least fifteen people, just the two of us. He had prefaced the interview by telling me I’d be meeting with a couple of the partners, but I had yet to see anyone other than him.
“I have,” I told him, although he would’ve seen that if he’d looked at my resume.
“Did you enjoy it?”
“Managing people?” I asked, more to give me time to formulate an answer than from a need for him to clarify.
“Yeah.”
“I don’t mind it.”
“How many have you managed?”
“A team of five was the largest,” I admitted.
“How do you feel about fifteen?”
Before I could answer, there was a quick rap on the door. It opened without a response from Zeke. We were joined by a well-dressed black man with a bald head and eyes that were bright against his dark skin. I recognized him instantly.
“Ben Snowden,” he introduced himself, not bothering to wait for Zeke to say anything.
I pushed to my feet, shook his hand. “Nice to see you again.”
Ben studied me momentarily, then grinned, his white teeth flashing. “Cav. I didn’t recognize you without the hat.” He motioned toward my chair as he moved around the table. “Please. Sit.”
Straightforward and efficient, that was how I remembered Ben. Seemed he was still that way.
I eased back into my chair, dividing my attention between the two of them as they sat across from me.
“Sorry I’m late,” Ben said. “I had a meeting that ran long.”
“We were talking about him managing people,” Zeke explained. “Said he can do it.”
Ben smiled, staring down at a sheet of paper in a folder he’d brought with him. A quick peek at it told me he was looking at my resume.
“Says you graduated from Columbia, then went on to be a police officer?” Ben looked up.
Since he didn’t ask why the career choice, I answered with a simple, “I was.”
He glanced down again. “For six years. Why’d you leave law enforcement?”
I leaned back in my chair, relaxed as much as I could. This topic generally had my insides churning, but I knew it was unavoidable.
“I was shot,” I told him straight. “My partner was killed.”
Ben’s expression softened. “I’m sorry to hear that. How old was he?”
“Four,” I told him.
Understanding dawned on his face. “Canine.”
“Correct.”
“That sucks,” Zeke muttered. It was possibly the first time I’d heard a sympathetic tone from the man.
“He’s got a dog,” Ben explained. “Probably close to the same age?” he asked Zeke.
“Yeah. His name’s Tank.” Zeke’s dark eyes locked on my face. “What happened?”