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“Don’t worry. We can talk plenty at dinner tonight.” Loren turned and raised a hand to a man who’d just walked in from the lobby area. “In fact, there’s Tony now.”

* * *

Tony didn’t see either Ross or Loren’s vehicles at the club when he pulled up, but suspected that meant Ross had dropped Loren off earlier. He recognized the young woman working the front desk.

She waved him through. “Loren’s inside. Class just broke up. Go on in.”

“Thanks.”

He continued through the door leading from the lobby into the main area. Over half of the dungeon consisted of equipment and play areas, including a couple of smaller rooms in the back, curtained off for patrons to change or do more private play. And upstairs, an open loft area visible from the lower floor held play spaces for more specialized activities, like wax play, electrical play, and other things, to keep them out of the more heavily trafficked downstairs play areas.

The other downstairs half of the space contained tables and chairs for patrons to sit and socialize. It also did double-duty as classroom and meeting space when the dungeon wasn’t open for play. And it’d even hosted a wedding or two, such as when their friends Tilly and Landry got hitched.

He spotted Loren just as she raised her hand in greeting. She was sitting at one of the tables with the woman he suspected was Shayla Pierce. He walked over.

He’d Googled Shayla Pierce the night before and found her byline on many articles from The Plain Dealer, and a few on Sunshine Attitude Magazine articles, but not much info other than that.

He’d located her profile on Facebook, but she’d set her privacy so you had to be a friend to see any updates. Her LinkedIn profile listed her college degrees and her time spent at the newspaper. Based on her college and work experience, he guessed her age around thirty-two or thirty-three, because she didn’t have her birthday or age listed.

And that was it. She didn’t even seem to have a Twitter account.

Nice to see she doesn’t splash her life across social media.

Loren stood to hug him. The other woman stood and turned to face him. He sucked in a breath and prayed she didn’t spot the erection that suddenly strained against the front of his jeans.

As he’d suspected from the picture he’d seen on the magazine’s website, she looked guarded, sad despite the practiced smile she immediately fastened into place when Loren introduced her. Her hazel eyes looked hidden behind her glasses.

“Shayla Pierce, this is our friend, Tony.”

He extended his hand. “Tony Daniels. Nice to meet you.”

Her grip felt light, but not weak. “Nice to meet you, too. Ross gave me your name and e-mail. I’m sorry I didn’t contact you this week, but it’s been busy.”

He offered her a smile. “No worries.” He longed to figure out whatever it was that happened to her. She didn’t just look sad. It was an invisible cloak surrounding her. Something she used as armor against the world, he suspected, from the way her arms immediately crossed in front of her, hands clasping her elbows, as if to both comfort herself and throw up a barrier between herself and him. And the way she kept nudging the bridge of her glasses with her index finger.

Unconscious nervous gestures, if he had to guess. “Loren tells me you’re going out to dinner with us?”

She nodded. “I really appreciate you all talking with me. As I told Ross and Loren, I won’t give away any personal or identifiable information unless you specifically okay it. I’m going to let those mentioned in my articles read them first before I turn them in, just to make sure I don’t get anything wrong.

“Appreciated.”

Together, they walked out to the lobby just as Ross walked in. “Ready for dinner?” he asked them.

“I know I’m starved,” Tony said. He extended his arm, indicating for Loren and Shayla to go first while Ross held the door for them.

Admittedly, he wanted to get a rear view of Shayla’s sweetly rounded, plump ass. Her dark blue denim jeans were a blessing and a curse. They showed off her curves perfectly.

As he followed the group to Ross’ car, Tony realized he no longer cared if this was a setup or not.

He wondered how much hands-on learning Shayla might be up for that night.

* * *

Shayla blinked and quickly cut her gaze away from Tony’s green eyes as she released his hand. Something about him drew her to him in what she knew could be a dangerous way. Dark brown hair with a little grey along the temples, and a full goatee and moustache neatly styled and trimmed. A few inches taller than her, probably around six feet. While not a ripped gym rat he appeared to be in shape. He wore jeans over black motorcycle boots, and a light blue short-sleeved Oxford shirt.

He had an air about him of quiet confidence. If she’d met him in any other place under any other circumstances, she wouldn’t mind chatting him up for a phone number. He looked like Joe Anybody.

Albeit on the pleasing end of the scale.

As she followed Loren into the parking lot to their car, Shayla mentally smacked herself. Duh, he’s a Dom. He’s probably married or dating or whatever. Loren had a slim, trim figure Shayla knew she could never compete with. While a few of their fellow students in the class had larger builds than Shayla did, the majority of the women were younger, prettier, and thinner.

I look like a frump compared to the rest of them. She’d opted for jeans to be on the safe side, and a black, long-sleeved, button-up shirt open over a royal blue cami top.

At the car, Loren immediately headed for the backseat, but Tony stopped her. “I’ll sit in back with Shayla,” he offered.

“But my legs are shorter,” she countered.

“I don’t mind.”

Shayla didn’t miss how Loren looked to Ross for a ruling. He tipped his head toward the front door.

Without further argument, Loren opened the front passenger door and climbed in.

Tony opened the back passenger door for Shayla and held it while she got in. One more misconception blown to hell. She was glad to see being a Dominant didn’t conflict with gentlemanly manners.

He walked around the car after closing her door and slid in behind Ross. “So how did you enjoy the class?” Tony asked her.

She swallowed, silently cursing herself for letting her gaze dart away from his green eyes again. Normally she didn’t have problem maintaining eye contact with someone. She nodded. “It was good. Enlightening. Lots of information to digest.” She quickly opened her notebook, as if to browse through it. “I’m not sure where I’ll start my first article because there’s just so much to cover.”

“How many articles are you planning?”

She shrugged and made herself look at his face again. What the hell’s wrong with me? She focused on his chin. “I don’t really know. I don’t have a word count limit. Since it’s a web series, length and space aren’t an issue.” She closed the notebook and wrapped her fingers around it to have something to do with them. “My publisher gave me free rein. There’s a big fetish convention in Tampa in a few months. All the articles sort of lead up to that.”

“FetCon,” the others said at the same time before laughing.

She blinked. “Oh. You know about it?”

Loren turned as far as her seat belt would allow, a smile on her face. “It’s an annual tradition with our gang,” she said. “They have a huge vendor floor.”

“Lots of fetish models,” Tony added.

Shayla felt a little ill and shoved a memory back into its hole. She wouldn’t let thoughts of her experience with James spoil what had been an otherwise nice experience so far. “Models?”