The idea of her playing with another man awoke something dark in him. Something deep that he had to quell. “Another man who thinks you really want to be a sub for the night?” His tone came out a little grittier than he’d intended. “You sure you want to go that far undercover?”

She was having a hard time meeting his gaze. “Good point. I’m not exactly the submissive type.”

“It’s up to your dom to get that from you.” Yeah, he was having a good time messing with her.

She frowned. “Are you—I mean, I have no problem with alternative lifestyles, but are you really a dom?”

Was she scared or interested? Either way, he wasn’t going to start lying to her now. “No. I’m undercover, looking for a source, and you of all people know I don’t like clubs or group activities.” He took another cinnamon roll. Why not run extra miles? “I also don’t like labels. Or rules.” He chewed thoughtfully. “Or contracts that govern intimate relationships.”

She finished her breakfast. “I think the contracts are necessary when you’re talking trust and pain.”

“Oh. I also don’t like pain. Giving or receiving it.” He pushed the pan closer to her. “However, if I eat another one of these, punch me in the nose.”

She chuckled.

He cleared his throat. “You don’t have to come to the party. I can do enough investigating for both of us.” Although, as a sub, she’d be allowed in different areas than he, and she could talk to other subs.

“Oh, I’m going.” Her chin lifted. “I just wish I could wear flannel.” Her smile jolted electricity through him.

He had to stop looking at her lips. “I’d pay to see you in a flannel corset,” he murmured, meaning every word. He had no doubt she’d conducted extensive research before going to the first party, but she seemed uncertain. “Do you understand the dom/sub dynamic, these types of parties, and Captive in general?”

“Yeah, I understand how clubs like Captive work and the appeal to some folks. I’d rather take a date fishing or rafting down the river, you know?” She sipped at the coffee.

He couldn’t agree more. Peace and quiet with few people around was his idea of a good day. It was too bad he was damaged and probably going to get killed taking out his enemy. Why couldn’t he have met Dana before the explosion that had sent his life to hell? He shook his head. Even as a kid he’d known not to play the what if game. Reality was reality, and he couldn’t change it. “Let’s talk about your story. Why were you looking for the dead guy?”