Janine’s mouth dropped open. “But—”

“Now.” He snapped his fingers, and her mouth clamped shut. Head down, she stood and let Chris pull her away.

Kate knew better than to interrupt Janine’s dynamic with Chris, even if she did want to grill her friend. From a few feet away, Janine stopped and turned to look at her. Good luck, she mouthed.

Good luck? She wished she was more commanding and could demand answers from Chris, but the man could out-Dom James Bond.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a shadow hovering over her, holding out a red Solo cup. “I hope Pepsi is okay. It’s all they had left.”

She took the drink, smiling slightly. “It’s fine. Thanks.” Chris and Janine didn’t seem concerned he’d drug her drink at least.

He sat back in his spot on the couch, but Janine had moved her away from the edge so now their thighs touched. She tried to inch away politely.

“So you’re here to meet a Dom?” he asked, ignoring her attempt at escape.

“Yeah. At least, I think so.” She stared down at the bubbles in her cup. “I don’t really know what I want anymore.”

Silence again. She glanced up at him. He wore a white T-shirt that fit snugly across his wide chest, and plain dark jeans. Beautiful ink on his arms. God, he was huge. It was a good thing he didn’t have the Dom vibe or she’d be terrified of him. With the slicked-back hair and heavy brow, he almost looked like a greaser from the fifties. All he needed was a thick chain around his neck. And maybe a leather jacket.

Mmm. Leather.

Giving her head a shake, she asked him, “What are you supposed to be anyway?”

He looked down at his clothes then back up to her. A smirk hinted at his lips. “This is my vanilla costume.”

She laughed. “Jeans and a T-shirt? What’s your not vanilla getup then? Leather? Mesh? Duct tape?”

An eyebrow arched. “And here I thought you weren’t ready to play yet.”

Blood rushed to her cheeks.

“What about your costume?”

Slightly embarrassed, she straightened the cat ears she’d thrown on last minute. “The corset’s not mine.” It was too tight and too pink. Janine had insisted though. A matchmaker and a fairy godmother. Wasn’t she lucky?

His gaze roved over her naked shoulders then down to her waist and back up again. His smile was sinful but authentic. She could almost feel his fingers running over her exposed skin. But it wasn’t creepy, like other men, it was sensual and complimentary. And it made her feel all shivery inside.

“I like it,” he rumbled.

She tugged on the top, feeling self-conscious. “I’m not really the dressing-up type.”

“No? Well, cross that off your fetish list.” His eyes crinkled at the corners as he smiled.

She almost rolled her eyes. Not another pushy one. She wasn’t ready to talk turn-ons with this guy yet either.

“Relax,” he said, chuckling. “I’m teasing you. I’m not interested in bringing you home to fulfill your deepest desires or whatever bullshit line Vince fed you.”

For one crazy moment, she was offended. Why didn’t he want to take her home and recite cheesy pickup lines to get into her pants? Wasn’t she pretty enough?

“You’re a beautiful woman, obviously,” he said, “but I doubt you want what I do.”

That struck a nerve. It was the same sentiment Janine had expressed. Proudly, she straightened her shoulders and looked him in the eyes. How did he know what she wanted, anyway? He didn’t know her; she barely knew herself. She hated when people made assumptions—a product of working with the people she had as clients.

“And what’s that?” she asked.

“A slave.”

She felt the blood drain from her face. “Oh.” Janine had a friend who was a slave. She wasn’t allowed to talk, or sit, or even look at people without permission. No fucking way. That wasn’t for her.

He chuckled. “That’s what I thought.”

“It’s kind of hard-core for me. I mean, I don’t even know if I’m a sub or just a bottom or what.” She shrugged, a bit disappointed in the turn of events. “I could even be a Domme. I haven’t tried any of it yet.”

Knowing what he was into had moved him from harmless to slightly dangerous in her mind. His polite air was probably a smokescreen for what he was really like. Visions of him towering over a helpless girl, whip in hand, popped into her mind. She didn’t want to be the girl, but she’d buy tickets to watch.

“A kink virgin.” A sly smile appeared. “Well, if you’re serious about finding a play partner, you should take some precautions.”

“Don’t worry. I don’t plan to meet up with any cock-shot guys.”

He smiled. “I figured you were smarter than that. But what I mean is, you could probably use someone to look out for you. Someone who knows people in the lifestyle and can give you personal recommendations.”

“Well, that’s what Janine was doing. Or trying to anyway. I don’t know how that Vince guy slipped through.”

“It’s up to you. I have more contacts than she does. She and Chris have been out of the club scene since they got married two years ago.”

She snorted. “So you’re offering to what? Dom-shop with me?” She was half-joking and expected him to laugh and brush her off.

Instead he looked her in the eye and said, “Yes. I am.”

Was he serious? She eyed him again. Oh yes. He was the kind of person who never said anything he didn’t mean. Definitely the type to star in her fantasies. But Vince had put her on the defense. “Why? What’s in it for you?”

He shrugged. “Brownie points with Chris? The knowledge that I’m doing some good in the world? Boredom?” With a dark chuckle, he added, “I’m a sadist, so maybe protecting you will balance out my karma.”

There had to be an angle there somewhere. She continued to stare, trying to read the answer on his face. The way the light hit his cheekbones but shadowed his eyes, making them look sinister, was pretty distracting. She sighed, lost in his dangerous aura.

“You don’t have to answer now,” he assured her. “I’ll give you my number, and you can let me know after you think about it. Ask Chris about me too. You should always check people out before agreeing to anything.” He smiled. “Like secondhand car shopping.”

Chuckling, she pulled her phone out of her purse. “Are you saying you’re a sleazy car salesman?”

“Only sleazy enough to make me interesting.” His smile was enigmatic.

For some insane reason, seeds of trust started to root. A man who made fun of himself had some humility at least. She started to enter him in her phone as a contact, then stopped and laughed. “I just realized I don’t even know your name.” Sticking out her hand, she said, “I’m Kate.”

Smiling, he shook it, his big hand swallowing hers, making her feel small and dainty. Would he mind if she crawled into his lap and enjoyed the feeling for a while?

“Nice to meet you, Kate. I’m Banner.”

Her brows shot up. “Banner? That’s your first name?”

“Yes.”

“What’s your last name?”

“Jennings.”

Banner Jennings. Why did that ring a bell? She gave him a quizzical look. “What do you do for work?”

A sardonic smile graced his face as he hesitated. After a moment, he answered, “I run a family business. You?”

Work. Now, there was a safe topic. She sat forward in her seat. Before answering, she glanced around them for eavesdroppers. Talking work in the kink community felt strange. But it seemed most attendees had left, and the few stragglers were busy with other things. “I work at the rehab center downtown. I’m a drug abuse counselor.”

“Really?” His gaze flickered over her face. “You look young for that.”

“I graduated early.” She raised her chin. “You look young to run a business.”

“I grew up early.”

They had a brief staring contest, and then she looked away, fighting back a smile. Hot and he had his shit together? Too bad he wanted a slave. What a waste. Still, he could feature in her fantasies instead of the faceless men who were usually there, so tonight wasn’t a total write-off. The guys in her fantasies almost always wore suits though. Maybe there was a fetish for that. Doms in suits.