He cleared his throat gruffly. When Avi didn’t immediately respond, he repeated the noise violently enough he sounded like a damn hacking cat.
Finally she glanced at him. “What’s wrong? Something stuck in your throat?”
“I need to ask Francesca something.”
“And…what? You need a written invitation?” Avi’s expression cleared at his pointed look. “Oh yeah. Guess you do.” She made a dramatic show of gaining Francesca’s attention. “My sub wishes to ask you something.”
Francesca eyed him coolly. “By all means.”
“Mistress, judging from the masks, I take it not all of your members are ready to expose their identities, much less their inner sexual beasts?”
“A valid observation,” Francesca conceded. “There are many who’ve walked through Rapture’s entrance who desire privacy at all measure, and I do my best to ensure that.”
“You have hosted some important people within these walls, I imagine.” Hopefully stroking her ego would get him what he wanted. Because god knows, his charm wasn’t bloody likely going to do the trick with this one.
“I’ve had my fair share. Doctors, professors. Not to mention several powerful business leaders.”
Bingo. Precisely the opening he’d needed. “Ah yes, I remember an article I came across in last quarter’s edition of Dark Desires.” He deliberately scrunched his forehead, pretending deep contemplation. “I believe the title was ‘The Science of Submission’. A fascinating read.”
Francesca nodded. “A dear friend of mine contributed to that article. He was a brilliant man. Certainly the smartest to grace this establishment.”
He poked Avily in the side, her cue to jump into the conversation. Fortunately she had no problem instantly getting with the program this time around. “My condolences. I didn’t realize your relationship went beyond casual acquaintanceship with Casper Winston.”
A flash of sadness softened Francesca’s features before her expression became shuttered. There was something about the brief pain Jerrick detected in her eyes that clued him in to what her next words would be.
“He was my sub.”
He certainly hadn’t factored in this curveball. Ah hell.
Avily felt like a powder keg of nerves charged to detonate at any second while she stood between Jerrick and Thane at the club’s entrance. How long did it take to get their coats anyway? Maybe the attendant had decided to indulge in a quickie. Damn inconsiderate, considering the quickie she most wanted currently was a swift getaway.
And to think, she’d be faced with this insane sex den all over again tomorrow night. But hopefully she wouldn’t have the added complication of Thane next to her the whole time.
Good gods. How in the world was she going to explain any of this to him? He’d been surprisingly cooperative about the whole thing—no doubt because of Jerrick’s unsubtle threat—but Thane’s head must be buzzing with a million questions.
The girl in the mesh bodysuit finally appeared with their belongings. There was an awkward moment when Thane risked his fingers being broken for attempting to usurp Jerrick’s job of helping Avily into her cloak.
His expression positively territorial, Jerrick snapped the jeweled clasp shut and gently tugged her hair free of the collar. He’d been acting excessively growly and possessive all night. Was their cover strictly responsible for his behavior? Much as she wanted to cling to the delusion of him harboring real jealousy where Thane was concerned, it made little difference. He wasn’t about to give in to his possessiveness, the stubborn bastard.
Their trio bid the club good night and departed the premises together. Conscious of the proximity of prying ears, they chatted about inconsequential things until they safely passed through the gate. The second they reached the Air Racer, she peered up at Thane. “I have some explaining to do.”
“I dare say that’s putting it mildly.” Unperturbed with the murderous glare Jerrick beamed him with, Thane leaned against the Racer.
“I don’t know where to start,” she began weakly.
Jerrick slashed her a warning look, instigating her deep desire to whack him in the head for thinking she’d be foolish enough to reveal too much.
Thane held up a hand. “Please, no need to be embarrassed. I’m not one to judge what others do behind closed doors. If anything, I confess to being more intrigued by you now.”
He thought she was an actual dominatrix? I don’t know whether to be relieved or disturbed by that. “Err…”
“I am surprised, however, that you allowed your sub to speak to you so highhandedly the other day,” Thane said, his lips twitching.
It took a moment to recall the scene in her shop, when Jerrick had walked in on her kissing Thane and then groused about not getting his damn dinner. She narrowed her eyes on Jerrick. “Yes, unfortunately sub Bill has a tendency to forget who’s in charge.” Tuning out the grumpy chuffing noise that slipped from Jerrick, she cleared her throat and offered Thane a tentative smile. “Anyway, thank you for not busting our true identities back there. It isn’t that I’m ashamed of my secret lifestyle, but I’d rather not advertise it.”
“Of course. Completely understandable.” Thane glanced at the antique luminar timepiece strapped to his wrist before granting her an apologetic grin. “I’d love to continue our conversation, but I’m afraid I have an appointment I can’t miss.”
“Pity,” Jerrick muttered.
His mouth adopting a humor-filled slant again, Thane straightened from the vehicle. “I look forward to Saturday.” He paused, his attention roving between her and Jerrick. “Assuming we’re still on for it?”
She felt the intensity of Jerrick’s stare heating the side of her face. It wasn’t her problem that he didn’t trust Thane. And he had no right to throw out his opinions on who she dated in the first place. At least Thane wanted to be with her. It was more than she could say for Jerrick. “Absolutely.”
Jerrick remained a mute stone statue while she and Thane exchanged goodbyes. Barely offering the man a rigid nod as he departed, Jerrick scowled at Thane’s departing back. The moment they were alone, he pinned her with a peevish look. “I distinctly remember telling you I don’t trust him.”
She tossed up her arms. “You don’t trust anyone.”
“Yeah, and with good reason.”
“Do you have the slightest notion how frustrating you are?” Indulging in an irritable huff, she clomped to her side of the Air Racer and tried the door. Still locked. “I’m freezing my boobs off out here.”
He strode next to her and freed the locks. Before she could shake off his assistance, he swept her into his arms and practically tossed her into the seat.
Gritting her teeth, she glared up at him. “Thank you.”
“Certainly, my precious.”
The exaggerated sweetness in his tone triggered her chuckle. Damn it. She hated when he made her laugh when what she really longed to do was clobber him. Smiling like a fiend, he buckled her in and tickled her in the rib cage.
“Stop it, you despicable ass,” she gasped in between giggle fits.
“Despicable, hmm?” He nuzzled her neck, the rasp of his beard scruff amping up his devilish onslaught. “Is that why you insisted on exposing it in these damn pants? Because you despise my cute cheeks so much?”