Ensnared (Brutes of Bristlebrook, #1)(54)

I take a breath and start again. It’s not the right explanation, but it’s all I can work up right now. “Yes, I enjoy pain and being dominated. I also enjoy dominating, sometimes. I switch, depending on my mood and who I’m with.”

Although, now I think of it, the thought of dominating anyone—even with gorgeous and clearly submissive Eden laid out on a platter—somehow doesn’t seem so appealing as it once did. Not that the attraction isn’t there, because it is. I haven’t been this attracted to anyone since, well, since Jasper. But I would much rather both of us be under him, at his mercy, than have her at mine.

But that might be a bit much to cover on a first date.

“I don’t enjoy giving pain. Yes, I’m bi. No, I haven’t had sex with any of the guys. As far as I know, the others are at least mostly straight.”

I think of the way Jasper pinned me today. The way he looked at my lips.

What he asked of me.

To be fair, he’s never exactly said that he was straight. . . I just assumed because he was married to Soomin, and because he’s never tried to take pleasure with me, even while he had me spread and naked and begging beneath him. I mean, I know he gets worked up—it’s impossible to miss his arousal during our scenes—but I always put that down to his kink rather than me.

More of a “whipping subbies until their sobs soothe my cranky temper” boner than a “Lucky is my one true love and I’d give anything to brand his soul with mine” hard-on.

Heart-on?

I wish I gave him a heart-on.

I shrug it off for now. Plenty of time to torture myself some more over that later.

“Yes, I have bottomed for Jasper before when he needed a release. We don’t have sex”—I push one of the books open, and the hard cover hits the table with more force than I intended. I think of how Jasper was looking at her when I walked in, and how she stared up at him. His perfect, submissive thing. The two of them heart-twistingly beautiful together—“and we . . . we aren’t interested in each other that way.”

The lie tastes like ash on my tongue.

I shrug like it means nothing. “But he’s a sadist, and he occasionally needs to work out his shit on someone who likes to take it. Which I do. So, you know.” I want to knock my face into a wall at how I sound, and yet I can’t stop my dumb mouth from adding weakly, “It makes sense.”

My emotions were just splattered around the room like a toddler throwing mashed peas, but sure, it makes sense. No one usually lets me talk for this long. Apparently it’s because the longer I talk, the more I let the stupid out.

She’s staring at me, but I can’t for the life of me tell what she’s thinking. All in, balls out, though, I guess.

“Anyway, my point is that Jasper knows what he’s doing. He won’t push you beyond what you can take, and the two of you will set out your boundaries before he even touches you.”

The thought makes me sick. And hard.

If only I had a psychologist to help work this shit out . . .

Idiot.

Her eyes narrow. “Then what was that before about teaching me a lesson? It sounded to me as though he was willing to punish me if I don’t do as he says. What exactly would have happened if I had turned down his chess game?”

Damn, I like it when she gets all snippy—though I know enough about women not to say so.

“If I had to guess, he wanted to turn you over his knee and spank your ass until you agreed to do what he wanted.” I snort.

“Though I think he’s regretting that hard-ass approach right about now. Jasper won’t touch you, not without your permission.

He’ll set out the rules before he punishes you for breaking them.”

I watch her face as I talk about Jasper spanking her. Her color is high and, despite the pursed displeasure of her full lips, the hollow in one cheek makes me think she must be biting it.

So, not quite as against the idea as she’s saying.

“As for the obedience thing—and I really hate to say it since you’re making that face at me—but it’s kind of a given with these guys. Dom, Beau, and Jasper are all gonna be pulling that card, so you probably should prepare for that. I mean, Jayk too, I guess, but he’s got more of that caveman clobber-you-over-the-head style.”

“Don’t speak about him like that,” she says absently.

My brows fly up, though she isn’t looking.

Right. Okay. Go Jayk, I guess.

Then she sighs, looking exhausted. “I suppose it doesn’t matter, huh? I’ll just take it as it comes.”

I shove my tongue into my cheek to stop myself from making a crack about her word choice, then grab her hand and tug.

When she finally looks up at me, a new wariness in her eyes, I wink at her.

“Come on, we have some strength training to do.”

Ignoring her spluttering, I drag her out and down to the music room where I set everything up and shut the door behind us.

“Lucky, I don’t want to work out. Why are you making me work out? What are you— Oh.”

A Twister mat in a six by four grid of red, blue, green, and yellow circles is laid out on the floor, and a pitcher of my famous orange monkey master mix is perched on the table. Eden is staring at the mat in horrified bemusement. I snicker, and she blushes.

The more we talk, the more I think maybe we can try this without kink. Maybe we can be together, just the two of us, without thoughts of Jasper and pain and tears. Maybe she and I can be enough for each other, and she’ll drown out the way I ache for him.