Free Under His Command (For His Pleasure, Book 17) by Kelly Favor Page A

after twelve and she had no emails or messages from him.
    Kennedy wondered if he was going to stand her up. It would figure—he seemed like the type who would break plans based on nothing more than a whim. Maybe he was playing a new video game or found a new girl to flirt with.
    A waiter came over and she ordered a glass of white wine, if nothing else than to calm her nerves.
    About five minutes later a text came through from Easton.
    Is he there yet?
    She wrote him back.
    No.
    And then silence for a bit.
    Little shit , Easton wrote.
    Kennedy smiled, sipped her wine, and then boldly wrote him back.
    You should come in and have a drink with me instead. I’d much prefer it actually.
    After sending it, she instantly regretted it. Somehow, it came off desperate. She didn’t want him to think she was easy. Maybe that’s why he’d seemingly lost interest after the initial flirtation that night at the club.
    And then Easton’s text came through:
    If he doesn’t show in the next five minutes, you and I will have a drink instead .
    Kennedy took an extra big gulp of wine after reading his latest response.
    Suddenly, the entire room became so vivid—every clink of silverware, glasses being picked up and put down, tinkling laughter, muted conversation, the glow of an overhead lamp—it felt as though she’d been shot up with amphetamine.
    She was so alive, so aware that this all was happening to her, that she was actually experiencing life for the first time. And it was hers. Finally, she’d found an existence, a job, a path, a man that she could really give herself over to.
    But be careful, Kennedy—you don’t know this man at all. Don’t give yourself over too quickly.
    In reaction to that thought, she took another long drink from her wine glass, and then another and another.
    “Should I get you more wine?” someone asked, laughing, from nearby.
    She looked up and saw a man who could only be Travis Hill Jr., standing a few feet away with a smirk on his young, boyish face. He was wearing a vest, pleated pants, and boots. His hair had that spiky, messy style that seemed to be in fashion nowadays, and he wore thick hipster glasses that complimented the outfit.
    “I could use another glass, actually,” she said.
    “You’re drinking white?”
    She nodded. “Yes, thanks.” As he turned to go to the bar, she quickly texted Easton and let him know that Travis had shown up.
    Easton didn’t respond right away, and Kennedy put her phone out of sight so as not to make Travis suspicious. She was actually quite disappointed that he’d shown up after all. It had started to feel like something exciting might be happening between her and Easton, and now that was spoiled.
    Travis returned a moment later with her wine, as well as a glass for himself. He sat down opposite her, grinning. “So, here we are,” he said.
    She accepted the glass and sipped it right away. For a brief second, she wondered if he was crazy enough to try and slip her something. Either way, it didn’t matter.
    Easton would protect her.
    “Here we are,” she said, laughing. She’d started to feel a little tipsy.
    “You’re even more attractive in person,” he said.
    “Thanks, that’s very sweet of you.”
    “And,” he said, holding out his arms.
    “And?”
    “What do you think of me?” he said. “Not too shabby, right?”
    The truth was, Travis was okay, although not really her type. He wasn’t quite a man yet, and contrasted with Easton he was simply a nonentity. Although he was pleasant looking, obviously intelligent, his overconfidence struck her more as insecurity masking itself as arrogance.
    But she couldn’t tell him any of that. Instead, she lifted her glass and said, “Not too shabby at all, Travis. Not too shabby at all.”
    And then she realized she might be drunker than she’d first thought.
    Travis slugged some of his wine. “Good stuff,” he said. Leaning back against the seat, he looked her over without trying to hide it.