Chains and Canes (11 page)

Maybe it was
his
relief that he sought.

“
Mira!
Daniel!”

Naya dropped her giant dance duffel and sprinted across the penthouse’s wide, airy living space. He stood in time to catch her in a colossal hug. Jesus, he loved being strong for her. She was a petite, nimble rocket of a woman, and she trusted him to catch her every time.

She planted a kiss on his neck, right below his ear. “Missed you,
mi cielo
.”

“Missed you too,” he said. “Good show?”

“Almost.” She slid to her feet, hand still braced on Daniel’s chest. Her glance back toward Remy was sly. “
Some
body still thinks he’s in charge on stage. Partnership means partners,
pendejo
.”

Daniel breathed out. Apparently he’d wanted to see the proof for himself. Simply because Naya had submitted so easily to Remy’s sexual command, she hadn’t lost her stubborn self-assurance when squaring off against him under less erotic circumstances. He’d needed to know that whatever happened, she would remain the same woman he loved.

Remy dropped his bag next to Naya’s and strolled into the living room, hands shoved in his jeans pockets. “I get my wires crossed,
chère
,” he said with a grin. His chin was tipped down, and he peeked playfully at her through his lashes. “Can’t tell which is the real you.”

“I’m just me.” Naya held out her hand, beckoning him closer. “And people are just people.”

Remy twined their fingers. “That simple, eh? Most folk don’t think so.”

Daniel looked down at the woman who bridged them. He pressed his nose into her hair as she laughed and asked, “You’re still under the impression we’re most folk?”

“If I am, I’m dead wrong.” He released Naya’s hand and extended his to Daniel. “Good trip?”

Their grip was strong. Daniel applied extra pressure in order to feel Remy test him in return. He wanted that sensation of being bested. It was as exciting as it was terrifying.

“Good. But too long.”

“Too long,” Naya echoed. She turned to give Daniel a long, smoldering kiss.

Exactly what he needed.

He loved her taste, like caramel with a kick of pepper. She was still hyped up from her debut. He wished he could’ve been there, but the timing of his trip had shot that to hell. The shock waves, however, were nearly as good. Electricity zapped between them. Only, he hadn’t released Remy’s hand—or, to be honest, Remy hadn’t let go of him. The Cajun led the way up Naya’s back until they both grasped hunks of her lush hair. Pins that held that coffee-dark mass in performance style slipped and pinged away. Male fingers tangled together, gripping, twisting, as Remy pushed Naya more firmly into Daniel’s arms, more deeply into that smoldering kiss.

They consumed each other as they always did after business took him away, and Naya guided him home. For Remy to dictate the depth and strength of their kiss was an extra thrill. Sharing her again. Showing off what an amazing woman he claimed.

Her laughter bubbled into his mouth. He and Remy backed off as her glittering laugh strengthened. “Oh, chivalry. Art thee dead?”

He licked his lower lip, tasting her, as Remy lifted his eyebrows. That metal piercing still fascinated Daniel, along with the ink displayed on his shoulder. So new and exotic—so
different
. He sought those differences in Remy and found each one exciting.

“What’s that,
chère
?” Remy’s lips shaped a crooked smile. “We here for a poetry recital?”

“No.” She shook her hair, rubbed her fingers down to the scalp and stepped from between them both. “A lady likes a little finesse and maybe a drink and chocolate and flowers, you know, before being forced into sexual submission.”

“Daniel, do you know what your girl did to me while you were away?” He never took his eyes off Naya’s beaming face, and his own features never lost their humor. They were on the cusp of hard play, but right now…it was still play.

Daniel was breathing helium.
They
were helium.

“I imagine she tried to outdance you,” he said. “And if she didn’t, she definitely outtalked you.”

“Aaaand, she said I didn’t know how to fuck.”

“Naya.” Daniel affixed a mock scowl. “Telling lies?”

“Hell if you know whether he can fuck.” Subtly, her body had taken on a loose, inviting softness. Her laughter was quick and light, but she gave off a more potent vibe. “You weren’t the one he plowed.”

“Ooh, good one,
chère
.” Remy slid his hand up Daniel’s back in a move that echoed what they’d just done to Naya. Owning her and sharing her. Only now, Daniel was the one with possessive fingers tightening on his nape. “Points for talking filth
and
insinuatin’ your boy here could use a good plowing.”

“Daniel, you should see your face.”

“What would I see?” he rasped.
His
humor, at least, was completely lost. Remy’s hand. Why? What was the man’s hold over him?

The excitement of knowing they’d be each other’s first. Daniel’s first male lover. Remy’s first real taste of…
adoration
. Daniel could adore Remy Lomand, clutched by the man’s talent, arch humor, arrogance and deep, deep vulnerability. He knew because he’d felt the same pull toward Naya. It would be condescending and plain wrong to say he’d rescued her, or that he could rescue Remy. They were vibrant people, and no matter the obstacle, they were both strong enough to carve out a good life. Daniel was more ambitious, for them and for his own gratification. He wanted to hold them up for the world to see.

Look what you’ve been missing. You’ve overlooked priceless treasures.

He very much doubted Remy had ever been adored, or that anyone had ever thought him priceless. Daniel would be the first.

Naya braced herself on Remy’s shoulders and kissed the trim dancer. They kissed with the same intensity, but from what Daniel could see, with a different technique. Remy took and Naya ceded. There was no explosion of mutual fight. It was a one-sided battle, even though Naya had been the one to initiate the meeting of mouths.

Two hands now. Remy held them both. “Answer him, Naya girl. What would he see on his face?”

She breathed in short, steady pulses. “Same thing he sees on mine. Anticipation. Lust. And being a little lost at sea.”

“Why you lost?”

“Because you’re here and we’re all primed and ready, but…”

“But?”

“What are your orders, Sir?”

Daniel envied her ability to
ask
. Because yes, that question lodged somewhere between his gut and his throat. He couldn’t speak the words, but they were as true for him as for Naya.
What are your orders, Sir?
A shiver overtook him. He closed his eyes and tipped his chin to the ceiling, choking back a hard swallow.

It didn’t make sense. It felt right. It needed to happen.

Whatever Daniel had been waiting for, keeping him up during those long nights alone in London, was right there, hovering between their triangle of bodies. Three needs. None of it fit without Remy taking command.

“Daniel, you were very good at removing clothing last time. Hers and mine. Do it again. Me first.”

That implacable hand released him so that Daniel could do as he was told.

Do as I’m told?

Shit. No way.

Adoration was a damn sight different than being ordered around.

Yet the temptation—no, the impulse—was overwhelming. He stepped behind Remy. Daniel was taller, so his chin rubbed the Cajun’s temple.

“I didn’t say pet me, boy. Although that’s a lovely way to start. Strip me.”

Daniel reached around to grip the front hem of that trademark black tank top. No. He didn’t touch fabric. He slipped his hands beneath warm cotton and skimmed his palms up, up, glorying in the feel of every taut muscle and lean, tense sinew. Male perfection. A dancer in his prime. The tank gathered around Daniel’s wrists as he explored in one long upward slide. His chest was pressed flush against Remy’s back. His hard cock was notched between the man’s fine, firm ass cheeks.

Unfortunately, he needed to step away in order to complete his task. What a reward for doing so. Remy took a deep breath, which lifted and expanded his wide, magnificent back. It was defined by almost casual muscles—casual in that they were part of the whole, none any more or any less important. All of them blending into the perfection of Remy’s body.

Daniel needed to touch. His curiosity had become a raging animal after three days of waiting. He stroked down either side of Remy’s spine. A small shiver was a reward Daniel hadn’t thought to expect, but when it happened, he felt powerful and very lucky.

To affect this man…

“More petting,” Remy said with a chuckle. “I’m getting the impression you like me, Daniel. Do you?”

“Yes.”

“Come here.”

They faced one another, with Naya standing to one side, her expression enraptured. Remy used his knuckles to trace Daniel’s cheekbones. They were close enough to kiss. Daniel felt himself pushing nearer, but Remy held an invisible wall between them. A little matter of permission.

The cussing resistance in Daniel’s brain was growing softer and softer. He was being guided, choreographed, made into something bigger than himself. Remy made him feel like art, even as he stole Daniel’s control.

No.

He didn’t steal. He granted Daniel’s deepest wish.

Remy relieved him of his burdens.

Those choking burdens were unflagging. Daniel loved being powerful and respected, but that fifteen-year journey had come with unexpected drawbacks. There were times he wanted to flush the whole shebang—the height of selfishness when so many people depended on him.

Remy pushed everything away with each stroke of knuckles over skin. “She manages it well enough. Eagerly, even.” His dark blue gaze held on and wouldn’t let go. “She calls me
Sir
. I want that from you by the end of the night.”

Naya gasped quietly. She covered her mouth with both hands, her eyes wide.

“I’ve waited three days to see more than a few teasing glances of the pretty marks I laid on your girl,” Remy said. “But I hadn’t realized I was waiting for something else. Normally I’m more honest with myself. I’ve had to be.” Wry sadness knitted his brows and flattened his mouth—more of the pain he couldn’t completely conceal. He leaned in and lightly brushed his lips over Daniel’s. “You took me by surprise.”

Being praised so openly pulsed warmth behind Daniel’s sternum. He could breathe easier. He sucked in freeing gulps of air, which held the added bonus of Remy’s scent. Clean, sharp, intoxicating.

“Thank you.”

“See?” Remy grinned, his mischief intact despite the intensity of their gathering hunger. “That was a perfect opportunity. ‘Thank you, Sir.’ I thought you were sharper than that, boy. To have missed something so simple. You wanted to say it, didn’t you?”

Daniel nodded rather than risk being called out again.

“Good enough. For now.” Another taunting slip of a kiss. “But…now you know what will make me happy tonight.”

Naya moaned low in her throat.

Remy glanced at her with an indulgent smile. “Down you go, sweeting. You know where you belong.”

With growing fascination, Daniel watched how effortless Naya made submission appear. He’d seen her behave that way with their paid Dominas, but her chocolate-colored eyes had never lit with such bright fire.

“Her turn to get naked, Daniel. You know what to do.”

Daniel took less time to remove Naya’s blouse. His control was slipping. Underneath, she wore a glittery bra that must’ve been part of her costume. That quickly joined her shirt on the floor. Her back was a circus of bruises, all different colors and shapes.

Remy stood facing her. “It’s time,
non
? I get to see the full picture. Finally.”

“
Si
, Sir.”

“All that lip and sass. Gone.” He squatted, pulling her hair back from her face with no finesse. Her neck arched to accommodate the force. “I like that. You have no idea how much. So much stubborn sparkle. Mine now.”

She licked her lips. “Yours now.”

Remy looked up at Daniel, although his power wasn’t diminished for having lowered his body. He was celestial. Daniel and Naya were caught in his orbit. “And you, Daniel. Are you mine tonight?”

Do it.

The voice in his head wasn’t protesting anymore. It was
urging
.

“Yes, Sir. I am.”

Remy’s mouth went momentarily slack. Daniel had taken him by surprise again. He yearned for more of that subtle power, and more of the praise that surely followed.

“Good boy. Very good. Now join your girl.” He nodded toward an ordinary patch of beige pile carpeting. Ordinary, but a place that took on life-changing significance when Remy issued his demand. “Kneel, Daniel. Kneel for me.”

Chapter Eleven

Naya forced herself to breathe evenly through her nose. She used the same technique when welcoming intense pain. This was different. If she didn’t breathe calmly, she’d lose her shit.

The pieces were in place. She understood. All these years together, Daniel had been missing something—something she would’ve been missing too, had her early history not provided that rough, important lesson. Patrick had pried open her world in a matter of months. More than breaking up with her, he’d spent no time finding another submissive.

To say Naya had been devastated was a massive understatement. She’d been cast adrift, heartbroken and purposeless. The breakup had coincided with landing a role, the lead in her second off-Broadway musical—her saving grace. Until meeting Daniel, work had been the only thing she could trust. His combination of sexuality and safety had healed her. He gave her another kind of calm. That and the intense energy of a new lover had meant months passed before she’d felt the return of her deeper cravings—and the need to share her secrets with Daniel.

She’d never believed he could share those cravings with her so completely. No way he had either.

Not like this.