Ainsley
seventeen
The bar, Dionysus, is close to Olympus International Tower, so I’m not surprised Payton would come here.
It’s blessedly cool when I walk in. The walls are exposed brick, brass fixtures gleaming against black accents, with sconces casting warm light all around as I take in the room while looking for Payton.
I feel his presence and turn, finding him leaning against a booth across from me.
His large, powerful body perfectly relaxed, hands in the pockets of his immaculately tailored navy suit pants highlighting his thick thighs, muscled forearms showing below the rolled-up sleeves of his crisp white shirt, setting off his tan skin in stark contrast. My gaze travels up his body, making it to his strong jaw, faint dimples popping in his cheeks from his indulgent smile as he drinks me in and knows he affects me in turn.
Finally, I meet his stupid ocean-deep eyes that drown me and I can’t look away.
I need to be a better swimmer to spend time around Payton Olsen.
His head tips, beckoning me to the booth behind him where a man with cool blond hair and ice-blue eyes lounges, and my feet are moving before I realize I’ve decided for myself.
Traitors. I hesitate for a moment when I reach him, not sure what version I’ll be getting tonight after several days of not hearing from him.
Will he be the constantly joking, can’t-stop-smiling fool I met in a silly café, or will he be the Dom I’ve only heard about?
I look up despite wearing heels that usually help give me a bit of height to my short stature.
“Go with it,” he whispers in my ear as he bends down to pull me in close and molds our bodies together into a tight hug.
It feels lush and indecent, despite being a fully clothed embrace in public.
One of his hands slides down my back, resting just above my ass.
The other comes up to my neck and presses me close longer than friendly, ensuring we establish this is more than casual.
My arms naturally reach up to his shoulders, fingers threading into the soft hair at the nape of his neck like they’re meant to be there, eliciting a quiet groan from him that sends a tremor through me in return.
I sigh and relax in his arms, feeling restored just from this small bit of touch that I must have been craving.
I look up at his face in silent question while it’s so close to mine. Is he going to kiss me, right here like this? My lips part, and I breathe raggedly against the hold he has on me, my eyes dipping between his eyes and mouth. I don’t have to pretend very hard to enjoy this.
“I missed you, Muffin,” he says with a gentle brush of his lips against mine in answer before running his nose along my cheek to my ear.
“I’m sure you did.” My words come out quick and uncertain, still wanting to put up walls despite how good it feels to fit this well in his arms.
I shiver involuntarily in his hold, my body responding to him dropping kisses along my jaw and pressing closer.
He tightens his grip when he feels my reaction and I get a sick thrill that we somehow keep doing this to each other.
My eyes widen as he pulls out the pen that’s securing the bun at the back of my head, causing my hair to untwist and fall down my back in a heavy cascade.
“That’s some fucking hot-for-teacher shit, Ainsley.
Don’t wear your hair like that around me again unless you want me fantasizing about roleplaying a classroom scene with you, or better yet, setting up that scene for you,” he says, voice gravelly and low against my ear.
“Especially not in an outfit like that. Fucking hell, woman. Are you trying to kill me?”
He runs a hand over my ass in my tight pencil skirt and looks down as he finally lets me go, but not before I feel the effect I’ve had on him pressed tightly against me. I’m not the only one reacting to this embrace and he really likes my outfit.
This is a perfectly professional blouse that doesn't show any cleavage and a pencil skirt that hits just above my knees. It’s business casual and fine for the office.
I look back at him as he struggles to compose himself, smiling in triumph to see him lose a bit of the control he always seems to have over every situation.
I reach up and pat his cheek with satisfaction. “You’re cracked. There’s nothing wrong with what I’m wearing or using a pen to hold up my hair when it’s hot as balls out and I don’t have a hair tie.”
He catches my wrist and lowers it to my side, raising dark brows at my sassy attitude.
“Don’t mistake me, Princess. There’s nothing wrong with it.
I just like it a little too much to stay in a public place if that’s how you’re going to respond when I mention it.
Now sit down before I march you out of here and show you what I really think. ”
I smirk as I brush past him and slide into the booth, his hand smoothing over my ass before he follows closely behind me. I eye the other man in the booth warily before turning back to Payton for the introduction.
“Ainsley, this is Luca DaSilva, the SVP of operations at Olympus International. Luca, this is Ainsley Montgomery, my gorgeous girlfriend,” Payton supplies the introductions for us.
He officially claimed me. My heart races at the thought of people knowing for real now about our fake relationship.
“Nice to meet you,” I offer.
Luca nods and looks away without comment.
“Is he always that friendly?” I ask Payton without bothering to lower my voice.
“Don’t mind him. He’s an asshole on a good day. It’s not you,” Payton says at the same volume. Clearly, we’re not hurting Luca’s feelings by talking about him like this.
A flash of red hair catches my eye and I turn toward the door, just as Della takes a few steps into the bar. “My friend just arrived.” I wave and catch her attention, thankful for a buffer to this awkwardness.
She sees me and wiggles her fingers before heading to our booth wearing a green silk tank dress.
She’s dressed more appropriately for this classy bar than me in work clothes, no matter what Payton thinks of my outfit.
I need more details about his clothing preferences because this isn’t even sexy and if that’s a trigger, we’re going to have problems.
“Hi,” she says, sliding in on the other side of Luca, whose icy demeanor warmed a fraction at her addition.
He was giving me a thorough once-over with those cold eyes as if he didn’t care much for me.
I thought maybe I was invading boys’ night or something, but seeing his reception of Della, it appears he wasn’t pleased with being the third wheel.
“Hey, Dells, thanks for coming,” I say. “Payton, Luca, this is Della Byrnes, my best friend.” I provide the introductions this time, but I’m not as loose with the titles as Payton was.
Della raises her eyebrows at me suggestively as if saying we’ll talk about all this later, regardless of my lack of titles.
I’ve given her the barest details about our dates, and I mentioned the kinky stuff Payton is into that I learned more about on our date at Rare.
She threw herself on the couch in a fit of despair that I found a man who’s willing to spank me in private and treat me like a princess in public before she could.
She says hello to Payton with a knowing grin before she turns her attention to Luca.
Luca grasps Della’s hand and kisses it, giving her a smile he held back earlier, causing me to snicker.
Payton catches on and slips his arm around my hip, pulling me against his side, where I fit perfectly.
I try not to appear too awkward since this is supposed to be a two-way thing, and it’s not a bad spot to be, tucked into Payton’s warm body with his big arm around me.
I try out leaning into his chest like I want to be there, and it’s not awful, either.
I feel him chuckle against me. I poke his thigh under the table.
He squeezes my hip in response, then begins to draw lazy circles that have his long fingers brushing across my thigh and the outer part of my ass.
I keep my hand on his thigh for good measure because damn, it's thick and muscular and two can play this game.
I flex my fingers against his thigh and he presses his leg closer to mine, giving me more access to anywhere I want to explore, it seems. Goddamn, this man is shameless.
I keep my hand safely on top of his thigh and stay away from the monster I know is lurking between his legs.
“Burns? Fitting with your hair,” Luca says. He speaks loud enough for us to hear across the large booth.
“Luca, intrusive thoughts stay in your head, please,” Payton admonishes with a laugh.
I tilt my head as I look up at Payton’s profile from my position tucked into his side.
The casual way he said it seems like it’s a regular occurrence for them, with Payton having to remind Luca of this fact, so maybe Luca lacks a social filter and they’re quite close outside of their working relationship.
It wouldn’t surprise me that Luca needs a reminder to be nice with how cold his reception was when I arrived.
I definitely didn’t get the warm fuzzies from him.
“Byrnes with a Y, not a U, but you are playing with fire,” Della says, leaning into the humor and giving him a wink. Della loves that joke and obviously likes the vibe Luca is giving off if she’s willing to be this playful off the bat.
I smile and shake my head, leaving her to it. She’s more than capable of handling herself with a new guy she finds attractive, and the way she’s looking at Luca, she does. Maybe he’ll be the kind of guy she’s looking for who’ll treat her like a queen in public and spank her in private.
My cheeks heat, thinking about Payton’s descriptions of a spanking and how he’d make me forget the sting but I’d have the marks to remember him by. Okay, more than my cheeks are heating and my hand has slid the length of Payton’s thigh and back.