Cowboy Casanova - Lorelei James [10]
Layla shot Murphy a contrite look and he snorted. “Puppy dog eyes ain’t gonna get you out of the doghouse, woman.”
“Whatcha got planned for our wannabe Domme?” Cody asked Ben.
“Charm, tempt, seduce—convince her to let me be her submissive tonight.” He lifted a brow at Layla to get her butt moving.
“Putting your plan into play now, Sir.” She grabbed the drinks and flounced off.
“I better go help Trace and Riley set up for tonight,” Sully said, stepping away from the bar.
“Make sure room four is saved for me,” Ben said.
“Will do.” Sully disappeared through the side door.
Cody laughed. “You sneaky son of a bitch. You’ve picked a no-view room. Don’t want any of your fan club chicklets to see the almighty Bennett at a woman’s feet?”
Ben offered another cocky grin. “Make no mistake. She might think she’s giving the orders, but I guarantee I’ll be the one in charge.”
The first thing Ainsley noticed as Layla sashayed back was her strained expression. “Is everything all right? Looked a little tense up at the bar.”
“It was.” Layla sank onto the barstool. “See the buff guy with the dark blond hair?”
Ainsley nodded.
“That’s Cody. The bar owner. He asked about you.”
Her hand froze above her drink. “He did? Why?”
“Well, you’re not exactly inconspicuous in that wig. And you’re wearing a gold bracelet. So he asked me if you were a lesbian.”
She choked on her gin. “Why would he think that?”
“Historically in this club, gold bracelets are worn by men, because ninety-nine point nine percent of the submissives are female. Cody wondered if you were here to perform a public scene with another woman.”
“What?”
“He and the other guys—Doms—wanted to know if you had a specific time in mind for that performance so they could watch.”
“But…I’m not… I…can’t… I don’t like…”
Layla leaned closer. “I know that. So in trying to save your ass from, oh, having a woman willing to go down on you in public in front of a couple dozen horny guys, I told them you were choosy. So choosy in fact, that you might not find a man you want to play with at all tonight.”
She noticed Layla no longer wore that smug expression for pulling one over on them. “What else?”
“They reminded me of the club rule: if you pay, you play—regardless if you’re a member or a guest. No exceptions.”
“But you gave me this gold bracelet so I’d be top of the food chain, so I wouldn’t have to play.”
Layla bit her lip. “Then you’ll have to fake it, A, because the consequences of me lying to Murphy and trying to slide you under their noses as a real Domme?” She shuddered. “Not only will Murphy be mad at me for weeks, it could jeopardize his job. If they think I, a lowly sub, can manipulate him into letting anyone into the club, then they won’t trust his judgment. In the bar, or with club business, or with club members.” Her eyes shimmered with tears. “So you see the position I’m in.”
Guilt sideswiped her. She’d never intended to put Layla at risk. “Okay. I’ll do it. If you tell me what to do. What are my options?”
“No chance you’ll pick up a female sub just out of curiosity?”
Ainsley shook her head. Not something on her sexual wish list.
Layla glanced around. “More members will show up, but if you insist on a man, you’re screwed.”
“Please don’t use that phrase in this context, okay?”
“There’s only one guy I know who…um…isn’t a submissive but…um…a switch.”
“Meaning he likes men and women?”
“Bennett?” Layla snorted. “God no. He worships women with a single-minded intensity that’s slightly scary. He’s highly sought after here. And he’s very, very picky.”
“So why is he a switch?” Since Layla took such a long time to answer, Ainsley suspected her friend’s response would be a total lie.
“Sometimes he just wants pain.” Layla rattled the ice in her glass distractedly before meeting Ainsley’s gaze. “An experienced Dom is the safest way to get it.”
“Oh.” Not the answer she’d expected. She scanned the guys lounging at the bar. Which one was Bennett? Her gaze passed over the buff blond owner, lingered on the tall, dark and handsome guy