“My mother said I’m supposed to put myself in your hands because I can’t be trusted to pick for myself.”

Had that come out weird?

The way the owner Conner was staring at me with his mouth open said I’d been awkward in some way. Taking a guess, I smiled and expounded. “The last Dom. Well, he said he was a Dom—wait, where was I? Oh, yes. Well, he stole my TV, and the guy before him tried to get me to do some sort of auction where I’d submit to a Master for a month, and that just didn’t seem like a good idea. I have to work and my mother said the whole thing sounded fishy.”

She was probably right, but he’d been wonderful at giving me attention.

She kept saying that attention whores attracted trouble—and she would know.

I thought explaining my questionable dating history would clear up the curious looks I was getting from the half-naked club owner.

Joseph,

I’m going to have to admit that I’ve started this email several times with everything from To Whom It May Concern to Dear Joseph, and it’s just gotten more graceless from there. First introductions should always be done in person so chemistry can, hopefully, override awkwardness. But since that isn’t the case here and Conner is insisting that I email you (because he couldn’t find a smoother Daddy at the moment?), I’ve given up figuring out how to start this without it sounding inelegant or overly professional.

My goal from here on out is overly professional in case you’re wondering.

“Could you be a bigger fucking dork?” Who just randomly showed up with food and said “Date me”?

I continued to mumble to myself. “He’s going to think I’m insane.”

And he’d probably be right.

This was all that wide-eyed sub’s fault.

He just had one of those faces that seemed too earnest to question. It hadn’t felt like he’d been lying. No, he’d been telling the truth. Fuck. Please let him have been telling the truth—because walking up to Warner’s door wasn’t the time to start second-guessing bringing dinner to the sexy man.

This was definitely all Asa’s fault. He’d turned my life upside down in a matter of seconds. One slightly awkward conversation at a coffee shop had been all it had taken to have me walking up to Warner’s house with a pizza in hand when he had no idea I was coming, much less that I was interested in him.

“You’d look sexy dressed up like that.” Bailey must’ve been deep in thought when I spoke because instead of focusing on the sub, who was decked out in leather straps and not much else, his gaze jumped to a little in overalls that had an elephant on the front.

Bailey’s eyebrows went up, making me chuckle. “No, not him. The sub behind him. That’s not what I would call sexy.”

Cute was probably a better word for someone who was sucking on a binkie and dragging around a three-foot rabbit stuffy by the ears.

Anywhere else the sight might’ve had people asking questions, but at Bound & Controlled, a gay BDSM club, it was par for the course.

Bailey was still giving me an odd look, so I nudged his shoulder and grinned. “You’ve got the body to pull it off.”

He was muscular but lean rather than bulky, not what I’d call a twink, but he looked damned good in everything from a suit to nothing at all.

“There is nothing wrong with finding competence sexy.” Sitting up straighter, not that it helped make me look taller, I stared at the wiggly, nearly naked man. “You asked what traits I find sexy in a man and I told you. Competence. Intelligence. Emotional stability.”

This was not rocket science.

Conner didn’t seem to agree with that sentiment, however. He was gaping at me like I was a bizarre new species of bug he’d just discovered. But since that was an improvement over his initial reaction to my clothing, or just the fact that I was wearing them, I didn’t worry about it.

Shaking his head, he gestured around the room. “Those are important characteristics in a good person, especially a good Dom, but what about looks?”

The expression on his face said he had no idea what I was talking about, but he was trying to be polite. Unfortunately, it was one I was familiar with.

“Is Landon going on a date or helping someone move? I can’t tell if he looks chic or homeless. The tattoos make it go either way.” My mother meant well, she really did, but she wasn’t exactly helping my confidence any.

“Shh, he’s going to hear you. Be nice.” Laura shouldn’t have wasted her breath. Nice had never been my mother’s default setting.

“I’m being honest, not mean.” That had been my mother’s mantra so long she believed it.

I heard her moving around the kitchen. “Where did he say he was taking his date? Do you even know her name? He’s being stubborn and won’t tell me.”

Because she was somewhere between a bulldozer and an unhinged moose.

Walking louder up the basement stairs, I called out so they could stop the painful discussion. “All fixed.”