Journey’s End Perfectly Imperfect

By P.A. Loder

One night, one girl, one dance, one kiss. He was the good-looking, cocky bad boy. She was the sweet, innocent with the starry eyes that gave him butterflies. She was everything he wanted, but she was young—too young. That night, he made the wrong choice.
Adam Jansante Comstock is wealthy, good-looking and purposely well-formed. Workouts release a lifetime of pent up disappointments and disillusions. Women seek him out for his assets, either as a wealthy man or as a well-trained Dominant.
Those few minutes twelve years ago determined his fate. Her beauty and innocence haunt him even now. He walked away from the innocence for a sure thing, but Becca brought with her a different kind of pain, and left Adam vowing to never trust in love. In self-defense, he remains alone.
And then he sees her. Twelve years later – twelve hundred miles from their first kiss. Angie is the phantom angel who has driven a wedge between him and any relationship he’s ever attempted.
Is she his second chance, or is she like the others? When the past revisits, will his Angel restore his faith in love or will that past indiscretion destroy any chance they have?

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Jun 21, 2020
• ISBN: 9781728364346

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© 2020 P.A. Loder. All rights reserved.

DISCLAIMER: None of the scenes in this novel are meant to be instructional and should not be used as such. Dominants practice diligently to perfect their skills. There are instructional manuals available.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

Published by AuthorHouse 06/19/2020

ISBN: 978-1-7283-6435-3 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-7283-6433-9 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-7283-6434-6 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2020910780

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models,

and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

Cover design by: MihaelaJoeDesign

Front cover photo by: Artem-furman

Back cover photo by: VitalikRadko

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Contents

Acknowledgment

Prologue

Chapter 1   Angie

Chapter 2   Adam

Chapter 3   Angie

Chapter 4   Adam

Chapter 5   Angie

Chapter 6   Adam

Chapter 7   Angie

Chapter 8   Adam

Chapter 9   Angie

Chapter 10   Adam

Chapter 11   Angie

Chapter 12   Adam

Chapter 13   Angie

Chapter 14   Adam

Chapter 15   Angie

Chapter 16   Adam

Chapter 17   Angie

Chapter 18   Adam

Chapter 19   Angie

Chapter 20   Angie

Chapter 21   Adam

Chapter 22   Angie

Chapter 23   Adam

Chapter 24   Angie

Chapter 25   Adam

Chapter 26   Angie

Chapter 27   Angie

Epilogue

About the Author

OTHER BOOKS BY P. A. LODER

JOURNEY FROM SEDUCTION TO SUBMISSION

JOURNEY FROM SUBMISSION TO LOVE

JOURNEY FROM LOVE LOST

THE JOURNEY BEGINS-HOLLY’S STORY

JOURNEY FROM DECEMBER TO MAY

Acknowledgment

I would like to thank my husband of 38 years. Without your love and support, none of this would be possible. Doug, I love you. Special thanks to my children for tolerating and supporting my obsession with writing. Brian, Kevin, Jessica and Aimee-I love you. Thank you, Misty, for being not only my proof reader, but also my sounding board, and to my sweet music guru Melissa: Each time I called and described a scene, you never failed to come up with the perfect music. Nina and Angie, your friendship and encouragement is priceless. My deepest love and gratitude to you all.

Prologue

F rom the top of the stairs, I strain to hear my parents discussing my first night of freedom.

We said Angie couldn’t date until she was sixteen. Mom is huffing and puffing, and I roll my eyes.

Elise, this is not a date. This is her best friend’s birthday party.

Yes, but boys will be there.

Gail’s parents assured me the party will be chaperoned, and it’s not fair to ban Angie from Gail’s party because boys will be there. She goes to school with boys every day.

Well fine, but I can’t say I’m happy about this.

Elise, Angie will be two houses away. Besides, we raised a smart girl.

Deep relief floods me, and I exhale the breath I was holding. Dad is fighting against my mother for a reprieve, and at this moment, I could hug him. Tonight, is the first girl-boy party of my life, and even though my stomach is in knots, I’m excited, too. Gail is my best friend, although I’m not entirely sure she considers me her best friend. She’s two years older and has her own set of friends, but we still walk to the bus stop together every day. No matter what high school insecurities strike, she’s always there for me and I for her. Mrs. Greenfield went to bat for me and convinced my dad to allow me to attend. I descend the stairs wearing my best jeans and Mom smiles.

Angie, you look nice. Come, I’ll walk you to Gail’s house.

Mom, I protest. It’s only two houses away.

Very well, I’ll stand at the end of the driveway. It’s dark, Angie.

I close my eyes, and my father comes to stand before me. Have fun, he whispers with an expression that warns it’s best to compromise.

Thanks, Dad.

Mrs. Greenfield opens the door. Quickly, she gives me a hug and points to the door that leads to the basement. Gail’s gift is clutched tightly in my hand, and even through it’s perfect, Mom thought the gift was a silly idea. She fails to understand that the delicate charm bracelet with a tiny school bus charm defines the beginning of our friendship.

Nervously, I inhale and open the basement door. The party is well underway. The music is loud, and the guests are loudly enjoying themselves. At this moment, I’m as out of place as I have ever felt. Gail is at my side the instant I hit the bottom step. With a wide smile, I hand her the gift bag and her hand slips inside.

Ooh, put it on me, she gushes.

Well, well, you forgot to mention you were inviting babies.

The voice is recognizable. With a glare, I turn to find the contemptuous face of every guy’s favorite girl.

Becca, knock it off. This is my party, not yours, and I can invite anyone I choose.

Becca marches off, and Gail turns back to face me. Don’t think twice about her, she reassures. Grab a Coke and try to enjoy yourself.

After opening the Coke, I find a corner and take up a stance I pray is aloof, self-assured and mature.

Hi baby, dance with me.

The ability to speak has suddenly vanished. He pulls me hard against him, his arms firmly around my waist and somehow, I manage to follow him step for step without an awkward stumble. The moves are unfamiliar and a bit off-putting. His hips grind against me in an obviously suggestive way. There’s no doubt my mother would be appalled, and would not hesitate to pull me out of here by my hair, but I’m thrilled. With a snap of his fingers, he could have any girl here or in this entire town, but he asked me to dance.

What’s your name, wild thing? His voice is smooth and deep, like a warm blanket on a cold night.

Angie, I murmur.

Ah, Angel, he says looking off into space. Just like the song we’re dancing to. How perfectly appropriate.

Ah, I whisper. I prefer Angie.

My name is A.J.

I know, I blurt and an uncomfortable blush warms my cheeks.

He pulls back, a cocky grin flashes and then slowly disappears. An oddly confused expression clouds his features as though I’m a stranger, or perhaps not the one he expected to be dancing with.

Ah Angel, how I wish you were my type.

I’m not your type? Why not? The question is out of my mouth before I realize how much better it would have sounded had it stayed in my head, and I cringe at my adolescent forwardness.

Too sweet, too innocent and not submissive.

What’s submissive mean?

Ah, that is my point.

The music ends. He leans to kiss me. Skillfully, his tongue invades my mouth and dances around my tongue. His moist, firm mouth demands a response, and every bottled-up hormone in my body bounces to life. A.J. steps back, bold blue eyes reflecting something unfamiliar, and without another word, he turns away.

Feeling embarrassingly abandoned, I retreat to the corner trying to absorb my first dance, and my first real kiss and the fact that they were with the most popular guy in school. Somewhere, I heard that no one forgets their first kiss, and I won’t forget this one—ever. Sighing, I scan the room, searching. A.J. is talking with Becca. He smiles and pushes his hips into her. She giggles and pushes back. The moves are indecent, and I can’t bear to watch. For the length of a song, he was mine, and I suddenly realize I’m jealous.

In that moment, the lights dim, and the music slows. Nearly everyone is dancing and some in a most provocative manner. This is not who I am. With one last glance in A.J.’s direction, I climb the stairs, and against my mother’s instructions, walk home alone.

Chapter 1

ANGIE

B rooding and dressed in black, he stands erect, the half-finished whiskey glass clutched in his hand. Deep in conversation with a man equally alluring, his attention is seemingly fixated on the conversation so I study him. This is the man I’ve dreamed of since I was fifteen years old. His stance is imposing, straight bearing, broad shoulders and slim waist all perfectly masculine and well-formed beneath his shirt. Twelve years have passed, yet the power and rebellion are still evident in his bearing.

The way I see it, I have two options. I could ignore him, act as though I don’t remember the evening he set my fifteen-year-old world on its head. Or, I could make an indelible impression. On the inside, a small evil part of me rubs her hands together and grins. I’ve never been one to pass up the opportunity to make an impression. Now, I simply need to wait for the perfect opportunity. Patience is another strong suit, taught by the Dominants who trained me. As I nurse my white wine, I change course and direct my attention back to Tasha and her flirty and clearly intimate interaction with the bartender. There is more to discover with those two than meets the eye.

Tasha and I met at summer camp when we were eight years old. We hit it off immediately and continued our friendship through the seven years at camp and our high school years only to lose touch when we both left for college. About six months ago, on a particularly boring Saturday afternoon, I plugged her name into the technical marvel called Facebook, and there she was.

Nathan and Tasha’s ongoing flirtation gives me a moment to take in my surroundings. This place is truly impressive. The elegance is the most difficult to wrap my head around. Everywhere I look, the same toys and similar equipment are recognizable, yet different. Everything in the immense room is bolder, more ornate and modern. The dungeon is elegant, just as the entrance with the crystal chandelier. There’s no doubt Paradise Isles is nothing like the rustic dungeon on the outskirts of Philadelphia.

Purposely, I pull my focus back to the glass of wine in front of me, and then I see her. I wait, willing her to glance my way. Finally, her eyes find mine and widen, and I fight a laugh. When Master Matthew suggested I surprise her here in the dungeon, I had my doubts, but he was right, as usual. Her expression is priceless.

Lissa wants you to meet her in the locker room, Tasha whispers.

How do you know?

Sub sign—if a submissive touches her nose, it means they need to see you in the locker room. Holly came up with the secret code. Honestly, I think the Dominants know, but they allow the charade to slide. Tasha turns to Nathan and smiles. We’ll be right back, Sir.

When I enter the locker room, Lissa grabs me up in a mighty hug, and we both squeal and laugh.

Wow, it’s so good to see someone from home, Angie. What are you doing here, and why didn’t you tell me you were coming to Florida?

Well, I moved here about a week ago. I’m Tasha’s new roommate. Surprising you was an order from Master Matthew.

I should have guessed. On Thursday, I talked to him and he said nothing.

How do you know each other? Tasha asks.

Ah, Lissa giggles. Angie is like a little sister. Years ago, she came to my father’s dungeon a complete newbie. My stepmother and I adopted her. Not legally of course, but we helped with her training.

Damn, it’s a small world.

So, it would seem. Angie is a natural-born submissive, but when she’s not being submissive, look out, Lissa laughs. Here’s my new cell. Angie, we need to catch up, but right now, I need to get back.

With a quick nod, I take the sticky note and follow Tasha back to the locker that holds our purses.

Tasha looks up from her phone. Arayna and Gates can’t make the dungeon tonight.

Okay, I reply, and wait while she tucks her phone inside her purse. My purse shares the locker and I shake my head when she silently questions if I need to check my phone. The only phone calls or texts I receive are from my parents and Tasha. No need to look.

From across the room, the deep, dark blue eyes capture my gaze. Those eyes have haunted me for years, and even now, I’m incapable of turning away. All hope of remaining impassive flounders.

Angie, what’s wrong?

Ah, nothing, I answer and focus on the empty wine glass.

Nathan leans on the bar and smiles wickedly. Adam said he’d take the bar. How would you like a nice flogging?

I’d love it, Sir, but I don’t want to leave Angie alone on her first night here.

I turn to protest, but Nathan winks, and I hold my tongue.

Adam said he’d look out for her, so run to the locker room and return appropriately.

Yes, Sir, she giggles and scoots off.

He saunters in my direction, head high and lidded eyes focused on me. Never trust a man with bedroom eyes. My mother’s mantra echoes in my head. He places a glass of wine on the bar and leans in close. Beautiful blue eyes reflect a mind working, penetrating, analyzing. Clearly, he’s attempting to distract and intimidate me.

Nathan mentioned tonight is your first, he murmurs smoothly, but I see it—the flicker of recognition.

Yes, Sir, I answer quietly, just as a proper and respectful submissive should.

Is this your first trip to a dungeon?

No, Sir. He’s waiting for more, but I choose to keep him waiting.

Arrogant Dominants are commonplace, and with Adam’s staggering good looks, I’m not surprised by the cocky. With the help of intense training, I’ve become immune to their inferred charm. Most are simply a legend in their own mind, but not this Dominant.

As a matter of fact, I begin audaciously. I’ve been a submissive for six years. I smile to sugar coat the attitude dripping from my voice.

Ah, have you now? Trained by whom?

Now that you ask, I was very well trained by Lissa, her stepmom and her father.

Master Matthew? Now I’m impressed.

My eyebrows arch. Thank you, Sir, I whisper. Upon hearing I was trained by a Dominant of Master Matthew’s reputation and competence, less talented Dominants tend to be intimidated. Arrogance can take one only so far.

Tasha is having fun, I interject nonchalantly.

I twist to watch Tasha. The brazen move does not go unobserved, and quite honestly, I’m surprised he doesn’t call me on it. Perhaps he’s not as dominant as he appears. By the time I pull myself from the scene, Adam is on the opposite side of the bar with Master Steven and Lissa, and Lissa flashes a subtle and questioning warning. I turn back and bite my lower lip and focus on the scene. There’s certainly nothing lacking in Nathan’s style. He’s as competent as anyone I’ve ever watched scene.

Just as Tasha returns, Adam disappears. She orders another wine, and I order water. Clearly, she’s shattered, which makes me the designated driver.

I’ll see you tonight, Nathan murmurs, his voice like warm honey, and that’s my cue. I stand, and Tasha follows.

When we step into the entrance, Adam leans against the door frame behind the front desk and with a conscious effort, I don’t react.

I’ll walk them, Bruce, he says smoothly.

Thank you, Sir, Tasha responds and hands me her car keys.

He follows me to the driver’s side of Tasha’s car. Boldly, I step forward, take his face in my hands and pull him into an aggressive kiss. My tongue dips between warm lips, and the moment I sense a response, I pull back, climb into the driver’s seat and close the door.

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As soon as we enter the apartment, Tasha grabs my upper arm and pulls me to the balcony.

Sit and I’ll get wine. It’s true confession time.

I take the glass with a quiet thank you and sigh heavily.

Okay Angie, what happened tonight?

Tasha, I’m exhausted.

Me, too. Now, ‘fess up so we can go to bed. There was undeniable tension between you and Adam. What’s the deal?

As a teenager, Adam used to go by A.J.

A.J.?

Yes, first dance, first kiss.

Adam? she squeals.

Yes, I nod, and the mind-boggling realization collides with the undeniable improbability. A.J. is here in the same city and the same dungeon.

Damn, it really is a small world. Holly nailed it when she said you can’t mess with fate. Did he recognize you?

Yes. I think so, but he tried to hide it.

Wow, this is hard to believe.

Actually, he’s the reason I became a submissive. While we danced, he told me I was not his type. When I asked why, he said I wasn’t submissive. When I turned eighteen, I was attending Temple and living in Philly, so after figuring out what he meant, finding a BDSM dungeon was easy. That’s how I met Lissa.

Holy cow, Angie, you never told me.

You knew I was in the lifestyle and a submissive.

Yes, of course, but I didn’t realize your training was so intense. You’re an established submissive.

The training was intense, but once I got passed the initial terror, I loved nearly every minute, I laugh.

What about the Dominants during the training? Were they hot? she asks with a lascivious grin.

Master Matthew placed me with several Dominants for training. My favorite was Master Zion. He trained me in high protocol, and his wife trained in the ways to skirt high protocol, I smile. I tried a relationship, but the chemistry wasn’t there.

Because of Adam?

No, I don’t think so.

But you kissed him.

Yes, I did, but only to throw his cocky ass off. I risked punishment, but left him speechless, I giggle proudly.

Well, you and the entire evening were full of surprises. Okay, if we run errands early, we can clean up after, she says, obviously satisfied enough with my explanation to allow me to go to bed.

I glance at the clock and realize it’s well past midnight. How early?

Relax, you don’t have to set the alarm, she laughs. Are you okay?

Sure I am. Why wouldn’t I be?

Well, maybe because tonight was eventful. How often does something like this happen? You’re reunited with your long-lost man crush, and you ran into Lissa.

Not exactly reunited, he only brought the drink I had already paid Nathan for, and I knew Lissa was here. Master Matthew made me promise to surprise her on my first visit to the dungeon.

Are you sure you’re okay with everything that happened tonight?

Of course, I am, Tasha.

Okay, then why are you chewing your thumbnail? You only do that when you’re either deep in thought or stressed.

It’s not a big deal. I’m just very tired.

Okay, I’ll lock up. Good night, Angie.

Tasha went to bed an hour ago. I lie wide awake as the evening that made such a long-lasting impression in my young life reruns in my head. Every moment and every word remain a vivid memory. Gail’s party was the moment my adolescent life took a turn that lasted a lifetime. Because of that evening, I am who and what I am. If it hadn’t been for A.J., I never would have pursued any of this.

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When I venture from my room on Saturday morning, Tasha is nowhere in sight, but Nathan’s jacket is flung carelessly over the back of the sofa. The instant the Keurig brews, I take a seat on the balcony and enjoy another beautiful morning in paradise. Last night, my dreams were filled with visions of A.J. The images were a flashing montage of Adam in a white t-shirt and leather jacket dancing with me along with a glimmer of the way he looked last night—older, dark and more commanding. His stare is a learned art, always with his head held high and gazing through sexy, bedroom eyes that are penetrating, unfathomable and arousingly threatening. The memories from so long ago did him an injustice, or perhaps he’s just gotten better with age. Whatever this is, the draw will be difficult to resist, but I must.

Tasha and Nathan step onto the balcony, and I fight to hide a grin. The Dominant Nathan seems a bit intimidated by Tasha’s morning personality. He sips his coffee rather hastily and stands.

I’ll see you ladies this evening. Have a good day.

Jeez Tasha, you scared him off, I laugh.

She turns a venomous glare on me, and I quickly retreat. Ah, I think I’ll shower.

I dash through the sliders, but a laugh bubbles before I make it safely behind my bedroom door.

Paybacks are hell, she shouts after me.

Hey, you didn’t scare me all those years ago, and you don’t now, I shout back and hurry to my room, and for a moment, I consider locking my door.

After a shower, I cautiously venture into the main living area. Tasha leans against the kitchen island and glares.

A few more mornings like this morning, and I may need to rethink our living arrangement. All I ask is two coffees before we interact.

Okay, I’m sorry. I’ll be more careful, but you were petulant at summer camp, and you didn’t drink coffee back then.

Good point. Lucky for you I drink coffee now. Shall we go?

Yes Tasha, I’ll drive.

Yes ma’am.

In that moment, I realize Tasha is simply temperamental. Her moods change according to the position of the sun and the rise and fall of the caffeine levels in her blood.

By mid-afternoon, the errands are run, and the apartment cleaned, Tasha turns to face me. I made chicken salad for dinner. Let’s have a wine on the balcony and then we’ll eat.

Okay, I reply, amazed and amused by Tasha’s roundabout way of apologizing for her foul morning mood.

I take the glass and follow through the sliders. We settle into chairs and quietly sip our wine. The afternoon is perfect, blue sky, wispy white clouds and a view of the river.

Oh, now you’re quiet, she teases.

I love this view.

Yeah, me too. Are you okay going back to the dungeon?

Sure, why shouldn’t I be? It’s a beautiful dungeon.

What about Adam?

Tasha, clearly there’s nothing to any of this except a young girl’s fantasy, and that girl grew up.

Yes, but are you okay with that? After that party, you walked away pretty devastated.

Of course, I am. It is what it is.

What are you wearing tonight?

I haven’t decided.

Well, worry no more. I have the perfect dress.

The reflection in the mirror slyly smiles back with a confident air. The floor length black dress is stunning. Long sleeves flair just at my knuckles and the plunging V-shape of the neckline and back negates wearing a bra. The form-fitting knit also disallows panties. With a deep inhale, I slip into my black sandals.

Damn, I’m good, Tasha laughs. Angie, you look amazing.

The moment we step through the dungeon door, Tasha squeals and hurries to the bar to hug the young woman sitting with an incredibly fine-looking older guy who is quite clearly a Dominant. He has that irresistible and implacable air I find alluring. After a round of introductions, Arayna pulls me into a hug and whispers in my ear. Grinning, I pull back.

Yes, I’ve been blessed with Medusa’s glare.

Tasha glowers playfully, and I take a seat sandwiched between Arayna and Tasha. Covertly, I scan the dungeon and sip my wine. Adam is deep in a conversation with the same good-looking man in black leathers he was talking with last night. A pregnant young woman stands just behind the man in a proper submissive stance, one step behind and one step to his right.

That’s Master Michael and Marilee, Tasha whispers. They own Paradise Isles.

I acknowledge with a nod, but my focus is on Adam. A subtle, shadowy stubble gives him a rugged appearance and draws attention to his full, pouty lips. The years were good to him. He’s the most beautiful man I’ve ever known.

Nathan approaches and Tasha literally glows. He places two white wines on the bar.

Tasha, this is from me, he murmurs. And Angie, this one is from Adam. He said to tell you it’s nice to see you again.

Please tell Sir I said thank you, but I don’t accept drinks from strangers.

I will, Angel, Nathan responds with an arched brow.

What are you doing? Tasha whispers with a hint of alarm in her voice.

Playing with the big boys.

Adam steps between Arayna and Gates. Both Dominants do the little acknowledgment nod, and he pulls Arayna into a warm hug. For absolutely no logical reason, I fight a small twinge of jealousy, but quickly push it aside.

Adam, this is Angie. Angie is Tasha’s new roommate, Arayna whispers.

Sexy dark eyes with the unique gray circle between the black of his pupil and the blue of his iris observe as though waiting for me to flinch first. His expression is serious with the tiniest hint of amusement crinkling the corners of his eyes.

Angel, he murmurs, and pulls my hand to his lips. The atypical show of chivalry throws me off kilter.

Angie, Sir, I correct.

Arayna, Angel and I have known each other for nearly twelve years. Even though he’s addressing her, his gaze is directed at me, and I shift in my seat.

Twelve? Wait, she’s your Angel? Arayna asks in disbelief. The girl you told me about?

Yes Arayna, the very same, he affirms with a playful grin.

Again, he flashes that dark, unreadable and sexy stare, and I fight not to squirm in my seat, not to show weakness. A slow smile plays on his lips and then he takes my hand.

Dance with me.

And for the second time in as many days, I’m transported back in time. With a shy nod, I slide off the stool and place my hand in his. On the inside, I quiver in excited turmoil. Tasha slides onto my stool, and I get the distinct impression Arayna is getting the entire story.

The moment we reach the dance floor, he steps back, deep blue eyes appraising from head to toe. My arms instinctively wrap around his neck, his powerful, well-muscled body leading me with an easy grace. Abruptly, he tightens his hold on me, and the air leaves my lungs in a loud gasp. A knowing chuckle leaves no doubt he’s aware of the effect he has on me, and I bristle and stiffen and call him an arrogant ass—only in my head, of course. No submissive I know is brave enough to utter those words aloud.

Relax, baby. This brings back memories, although you have grown up.

The cocky ass is playing games. I lean back with my best what-on-earth-are-you-talking-about look and boldly stare.

His brow furrows into an affronted frown. Seriously, he pouts. But you kissed me.

You kissed me and then left. Last night, I just returned the favor.

A laugh is building in my chest, and I fight, but the battle is lost. First there’s a small smile and then a quiet giggle. His pout is sexy and disarming. The small giggle blossoms into an unstoppable, body shuddering laugh and within a minute, we are both laughing.

Adam pulls me hard against him and the laughter instantly dies. With my eyes closed, my arms wrap around his neck, and I simply enjoy everything that he is. Burying my face in his neck, I savor his scent. The pleasing scent is masculine, subtle and arousing. A hard chest and strong arms surround me in a warm erotic cocoon. There’s no denying he’s a Dominant, and a master of the games Dominants play. My body is held firmly against him. He leans back, his smile sweet without a hint of arrogance, and I return the sweet smile with a smirk.

How’s Becca? I ask, a bit more biting than I intended.

I haven’t had the displeasure of Becca’s company in years. The night of Gail’s party, you were adorable and so sweet. I must confess, I came back to claim another dance, but Gail said you left. Why?

With a small shrug, I say nothing.

Angel? And the Dominant Adam now unfairly lays claim to my submissive soul.

Angie. I remind again.

Why did you leave the party?

Why were you so intimate with Becca? I shrug.

Ah, because you were innocent and Becca was not.

"If that’s the