James would be the first to admit he had a weakness for pretty women. He was a versatile guy, liked his women just as much as his men. But, sometimes, nothing beat the soft curves of a woman, the way they sounded. Sometimes, the part of him that craved control, craved submission, wanted to find such in a woman’s body.
Which was how James found himself at Nightingale again. How he hadn’t been permaban was beyond him. But, he did take all of his reckless fighting to the parking lot, at least. What he wasn’t an animal, no matter what the tabloids said. He had a code of ethics.
Mostly.
But, tonight, it seemed, he wasn’t the problem. Nah, it was some douche-canoe with reeboks on, of all things.
James helped his happy self to the drama, swinging his arm around the submissive and pulling her in tight against him. “No means no, buddy,” he said, crooked smile mean, eyes narrowed, but demeanor relaxed enough. “Move along.”
@dreamyfms
