“Who’s ready to party?”
Five
Katrina’s cheerful greeting met with two of the weakest smiles she’d ever seen. Both of her dream men looked ready to hurl, and were seated as far from each other as the width of the limo would allow. Obviously she’d arrived in the wake of an argument. Or something.
Each man kissed her cheek and she settled into the seat opposite them, facing backward. Michael seemed to rally first, his dark eyes raking her from head to toe.
“I know I’m ready, especially in the company of a beautiful woman. You look stunning.”
“Ditto,” Bastian put in. “Absolutely ravishing.”
“Thank you,” she said, struggling to hide her surprise. Her bosses had never been so overt in their appreciation, and she wasn’t quite sure how to respond. Especially in light of yesterday’s interrupted play with Bastian. Had the blond god spilled the beans to Michael, causing tension? She should’ve thought of that before pouncing on the man, but there was nothing to do but make the best of it. “You two are quite mouthwatering yourselves.”
Indeed, the pair of them were raw sex. Light and dark, bold and mysterious. Now that she had a chance to study them further outside the work environment, Bastian was as outwardly free and comfortable with his sexuality as Michael was controlled and secretive. The contrast in their attire was subtle, but it was the mesh shirt and nipple ring that put Bastian over the top and made her wonder.
“Can I ask you something?”
“Sure. Doesn’t mean I’ll answer.” His playful tone spurred her on.
“Are you bisexual?” Obviously he wasn’t gay, because he’d been really into her at the office. Hell, she’d always been a direct person, sometimes to a fault. Inwardly she cringed, hoping he didn’t take offense. But his smile went from stiff to genuine in an instant, whatever had been bothering him pushed to the background for the moment.
“Yes, I am. Does that bother you?”
“Not at all. I think it takes a lot of courage to simply be who you are, with no apologies.”
“I appreciate that,” he said. He shot a quick look at Michael, who in turn took great fascination in studying his shoes. “I don’t advertise at work, but on my time, I live life on my own terms. More people should try it, and put less stock in what others believe is right.”
“I couldn’t agree more.”
Bastian’s face lit up, taking her breath away. Yesterday, when she’d said she found him sexy, he didn’t look convinced. The man couldn’t possibly know how attractive he was, inside and out. An angel. All he needed was a pair of wings.
“I don’t care what others think,” Michael said defensively. “But I know what’s right for
“Do you?” His friend’s voice held a note of challenge.
Katrina’s attention bounced between them. “Okay, someone want to tell me what’s going on with you two? Whatever it is, you haven’t done a good job of keeping it out of the workplace, because I’d already noticed the tension.”
For a long moment no one answered, then Michael let out a deep sigh. “Just a difference of opinion. That happens when a couple of guys have known each other as long as we have. Nothing to worry about.”
In other words, none of her business. She’d have to live with that, unless one of them saw fit to let her into the inner circle. But given her observations before and the exchange between them just now, she could venture an educated guess as to the crux of their disagreement. If she was correct, her heart ached for them. Especially Bastian.
The limo arrived, stopping under the awning at Shakers. She wasn’t easily impressed by wealth, but she had to admit it was pretty cool going out for an evening on the town in such a fine ride. The necessity of the fortified vehicle and armed escort trailing at a discreet distance didn’t escape her, but she planned to enjoy herself to the fullest.
Blaze and Emma were waiting just inside the club, and Katrina beamed at them. “You guys look terrific!” The couple was striking in matching leather outfits of deep purple, perfect for a night at the club. While Blaze wore pants, Emma wore a short skirt that showed off her long, toned legs, and a snug tank top.
“So do you!” Emma called, giving her a hug. Blaze kissed her on the cheek.
“Oh, thanks.” She felt slightly out of place in her staid black pants, though she’d attempted to make her outfit more fun by wearing a thin, gauzy blouse and black bra underneath. It wasn’t as if she went clubbing a lot, so her clothing was more suited to dinner at a nice restaurant.
“Hey, guys!” Emma greeted her bosses, followed by Blaze. “Drinks? We reserved a table in the corner.”
“Lead the way,” Bastian said.
Blaze showed them to a darkened corner where they could observe the action but were mostly hidden. They took their seats at a circular table, Blaze and Emma on one side, Katrina between her dates on the other. Katrina noted again the chain that Emma called her collar resting at the woman’s throat, and wondered what it would be like to be “owned” by a man in that way. Though she liked some kink, the D/s lifestyle wasn’t for her. But she’d be really happy to belong to someone special.
Or two someones.
A server hurried over and they ordered a round of drinks, settling into lively conversation. An outsider would never guess that her dates were everyone’s bosses; they were so fun to be with — once they decided to let go of their differences for the evening and let their hair down.
Blaze was sort of a nut, which was a far cry from the tough agent she’d infrequently glimpsed at work. While they sipped their drinks, he kept them entertained with stories of ops gone FUBAR, with the other two men chiming in on occasion. With his shoulder-length, dark hair, chiseled face, and muscular build, he was quite handsome. But he couldn’t hold a candle to Michael or Bastian.
“You did
Blaze shrugged. “Hey, they’re big and ugly, but harmless — unless you kill yourself getting away from one. You shoulda seen the guy dancin’ around, screamin’ like he was being skewered by Freddy Krueger.”
Emma smacked the big man on the arm. “That is so mean!”
“Speaking of dancing.” Bastian drained his martini and stood, holding out a hand for Katrina. “Would you like to?”
“As long as you’re all recovered from the wreck,” she said. A small, flesh-colored bandage on his forehead peeked from under a fall of blond hair. “I don’t want you to overdo it.”
“Oh, I think we both know how
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Michael asked, frowning.
She grabbed Bastian’s offered hand and they ignored the other man’s question. “In that case, yes!”
As he guided her to the dance floor, she caught Michael’s stare. He always appeared so controlled and distant that the fierce hunger in their dark depths surprised her, sent a shaft of awareness zinging through her body. Did he know what she and Bastian had almost done? Would he be angry? Or possibly turned on? Then Bastian tugged her through the crush, onto the floor, and the connection was severed.
The warmth, however, remained. Stoked to arousal as she and Bastian faced each other, they began to move to the throbbing beat of the music. It was a driving number with sexual lyrics, a standard club tune, but there was nothing common about the way her partner’s hips swiveled to the tempo. His body swayed with fluid grace, suggestive. Mesmerizing.
The man had missed his calling as a porn star. He had the moves and the beauty, that touch of soiled
