Dream Chaser (Dream Team, #2)(10)

As soon as I could when I was away from the club, I pulled over, and reached to my GPS.

I was involved in a few BDSM groups. It wasn’t frequent, but it was regular that there were parties happening and we’d get the news of them via group texts.

Parties as in scenes. Get-togethers of tight-knit, vetted players, where you could find a play partner and they were safe.

I’d searched out these groups and jumped through their hoops after that Dom who was a little too into pain and did not play by the rules got done with me (or I got done with him).

I didn’t go often, but a girl had to get off, and if she could, she had to do it the way she liked.

Pepper knew about this arrangement and didn’t like it. She thought it was dangerous.

She also knew about Bad Dom, and she wasn’t in the life, so this was why she thought it was dangerous.

It wasn’t.

At least these folks weren’t.

That said, truth be told, I was only twenty-nine, not exactly ancient, but still, I was kinda done with the scene.

I wanted a man all my own.

And in that particular capacity, I wanted to belong to somebody who did it for me.

Variety, I was finding, was not the spice of life.

But I’d had a tough day and finding someone who could put me through my paces, even if he wasn’t great at it, as long as it ended in a climax…

Well, I needed it.

I needed to let go.

I needed to give over.

I needed to let someone else work it out of me.

Tonight’s party was at Corinne’s. Small, intimate, but there would be a new sub, and two new Doms.

Man, I hoped one of those Doms held promise, and he was into me, because I was a deft hand with my vibrator, and that baby got a lot of use, but lately, it was getting old.

I also hoped, even though it was officially tomorrow, my shitty day would have a decent end.

I’d only been to Corinne’s place a couple of times, so I needed to find her address in the GPS.

She lived out in Englewood in a massive six-thousand-square-foot house. She was married, she and her hubby were swingers, they liked to watch other people going at their spouses, among other things, and even though she was a Domme (so she rode the other side of my fence), we got on and I liked her.

We had a lot in common. And I admired the fact they were in that six-thousand-square-foot house not only because her husband owned a mortgage company that specialized in jumbo loans, but mostly because she was an attorney that specialized in kicking ass in the courtroom.

I found her address in my GPS, scheduled the route guidance to GO, and pulled back out onto the street.

It was late, but I hadn’t received the text the doors were closed, and with functions like these, they didn’t start getting really going until midnight or later, so I thought the party was not over.

But when I arrived, there were only five cars in their massive drive.

It happened that people connected and took off to do their thing elsewhere.

Corinne had a playroom where she allowed multiple-person play, so it also happened that folks connected in her basement and, when they were done, they’d come back up to the common areas to have a drink.

She further had a guestroom where she allowed private play, and ditto with the done and drink.

The previous parties I’d been to at her pad had ended in Corinne laying out an expansive breakfast for stragglers, of which there were several, including me, and I hadn’t left until nearly 10:00 in the morning.

True, it was 3:30 in the morning now, but all the lights were on.

As I was sitting in my car, I saw the front door open, Corinne silhouetted in the light coming from the house behind her, and she was giving me a beckoning gesture.

Okay.

Weird.

She was a friendly person and I hadn’t seen her as a Domme (I didn’t do the multi-player gig), but even though I RSVPed earlier that day, it seemed strange that she was waiting on me.

Being hostess and participant, even with only a few guests left, I couldn’t imagine why she was looking out for me.

Maybe it was because she’d scoped out the new Doms and she thought one of them would suit me.

On this thought, suddenly, I wanted to put the car in reverse and go.

This wasn’t right.

Because it wasn’t Boone.

And that thought was just plain stupid.

He wasn’t mine.

He would never be mine.

And after that morning, I wasn’t even sure I liked him.

And he was less and less sure he liked me (buh).

What I knew, though, was I no longer felt like getting laid.

I didn’t feel like socializing either, going in for a drink, getting looked over.

This was a bad idea.

I didn’t even know what’d I’d been thinking.

But there was no getting out of it now. I’d RSVPed, Corinne saw me and was waving me in.

It’d be rude not to go in for a drink.

I’d do that, then I could go home to my vibrator and later, get my ass to a kickboxing class and work the rest of it out of my system.

I got out and walked up the winding flagstone walkway.

“Hey there, I think I texted this, but had a shift at the club, that’s why I’m so late,” I greeted when I got close.

Corinne opened the door further, and I wondered if she’d done her thing with whoever she’d chosen, because she was not in her normal, classy, form-fitting dress and heels. She was in lounge pants, a tank and a fashionable, zip-up sports hoodie, with bare feet.