Crossing the Lines (26 page)

God, no. Showing Henry what a pushy, whiny, needy submissive he’d contracted sure as hell wouldn’t make him inclined to extend her greater participation in their relationship. Arrangement. Whatever the fuck she should call it now.

Jay’d do it, too. Not to piss her off, but because he hadn’t been able to fix the situation himself and he’d rely on Henry to know what to do. “Stop that. I’m coming to bed.”

“No more arguing?”

“No more arguing.” She didn’t want to leave him alone anyway. Not if Henry had gone to the sex club where he’d met Jay.

“No more clothes?” His hopeful voice teased. His best puppy eyes pleaded with her. If her laughter sounded forced, he didn’t mention it.

“No more clothes.”

Zipping forward and down, he wrapped his arms around her thighs and lifted her over his shoulder. He took a playful bite of her ass though her pajama pants as she hung upside down. She slapped his ass in retribution.

“Caveman style, really?”

“I caught a feisty one. If I don’t carry her off quick, she might leave me.”

He could’ve carried her to his room, to his bed, but he passed his own door and stepped through Henry’s at the end of the hall. Maybe he missed Henry tonight more than he would say. He just buried it under his familiar happy-go-lucky demeanor.

She let his exuberance lift her mood, cuddling and teasing in the big bed. When he would’ve disappeared to handle the results in the shower himself, she stopped him. Pushed him back against the pillows and delivered a hard-and-fast blowjob that had him calling her name as she swallowed. Licking him clean, she traced his disappearing veins and the wrinkles reforming as steely satisfaction retreated to sweet sensitivity. The closeness, his intimate vulnerability, all heavy-lidded eyes watching her and fingers curling softly in her hair, made her ache.

“C’mere,” he murmured. “Sit on my face. I’ll make it good.”

His softening cock slipped from her mouth. She pressed a kiss to the crease of his thigh where it would settle. Sliding upward only far enough to lay her body alongside his, she tucked herself against his boneless warmth.

“I know you would. I’m just not in the mood.” Partly to ease the sting of rejection for him and partly to ease her own loneliness, she added, “Hold me?”

He rolled on his side, pulling her back against him, and dropped his arm over her stomach. Head dipping, he sprinkled kisses on her back and shoulders. “S’good?”

“S’good,” she agreed. “Sleep, Jay.”

He hugged her tighter. Eventually, his relaxed stillness and steady breaths signaled his successful arrival in dreamland.

She drifted on the border between sleep and waking for hours, gaze continually flicking to the bedside clock. Nearly two AM, and though Jay’s long form remained curled around her back in slumber, no head occupied the pillow in front of her.

Henry was still out with someone else, surrounded by beautiful men and women, ones trained to perfect submission, and she lay in his bed, imperfect and unwanted.

The tears she’d held back in front of Jay clogged her nose and dripped to the pillow. She stifled her sobs. No need to wake Jay with her weakness and insecurity.

He seemed to take it as a given that Henry would go out and leave them behind. Did not asking questions make Jay a better submissive? Was that what Henry hoped to get from renegotiating their contract?

Above Jay’s soft snores came a new sound. Footsteps on hardwood, soft padding thuds. Henry. He’d have left his shoes at the door to avoid waking Jay. He wouldn’t expect her here. He might be angry.

The door pushed open.

Henry stepped inside by moonlight. She’d run out of time to wipe her face in the pillow to hide the tears or sniff to clear her nose.

He stood near the door for a long moment. Stripped off his tie and rolled it neatly, unbuttoning his shirt one-handed as he moved to the dresser and laid the tie atop it. His watch and cufflinks followed.

Pulling his belt free of his slacks, he coiled it and set it aside before dropping his pants. Those, he folded over his arm and hung on the back of the chair beside the dresser. Boxer shorts and socks were draped on the chair seat.

She let her eyelids drop fully closed as Henry approached the bed in the nude. He was unaroused. Had he found satisfaction at the club?

She waited for the bed to register his weight, but instead his voice rumbled in the silence.

“Were you lonely, dear ones?” A musing question, a hint of curiosity and compassion.

He’d gotten it right, too, without even knowing. Half a sob hitched in her throat before she could call it back.

“Alice?” The bed dipped, and a quiet
click
heralded the coming of muted light, a brighter shade of blackness inside her eyelids. Fingers touched her cheek. “You’ve been crying. Why?”

The pillow rustled with her movement. She didn’t want to talk about her overblown fears, least of all with Henry.

“I require an answer, Alice. Open your eyes, now, please.” He typically reserved that commanding voice, quiet but firm, for scenes.

Would he punish her for refusing? They weren’t technically playing, but she lay in his bed. That was as good as consent, an invitation, the implicit understanding that she’d be guided by his voice.

He might reject her. Replace her. As much fun as she’d been having, as emotionally entwined as she’d gotten, Henry considered her a temporary plaything. He might’ve found a woman tonight he’d rather have in his bed.

She squinted at the light and blinked until her vision cleared. The bedside lamp silhouetted Henry’s form but hid his face from her.

“Much better. Now, why have you been crying?” His firm gentleness urged her to let go. Let the words tumble forth before she could lose her nerve.

“Are you ashamed of us? Of me?” Her tears had thickened her voice. It didn’t matter. He’d seen the evidence on her cheeks. “Is that why you go alone?”

He flinched, his head jerking away. “Oh, my dear girl, no.”

He brushed her hair aside with his knuckles and stroked her cheek. “Would you like to go? Is that something you desire? Are you ready for all of the eyes staring at you? To follow my instructions exactly and perform for a crowd? To have them see you in such an intimate moment? Or is that something you would prefer to share only with Jay and myself for now?”

She squirmed, wanting to please him but not wanting to be so exposed. Not yet, at least. “No, you, you’re right, I’m not ready. But if I was…”

“I would take you with me in a heartbeat, dearest. I will be delighted to show you off, if and when we both agree it suits your needs. Until then, I will go alone.”

“But…” In matters outside the bedroom, she wouldn’t have hesitated to question him. But sexuality was his territory. He made the rules.

“It’s all right, Alice. Ask your question.”

“I get why you didn’t take us with. But why did you go at all? Aren’t we enough for you?” Didn’t he want her? Had she fucked up beyond repair?

“More than enough.” He chuckled.

“I go because I enjoy observing and for…continuing education, you might say. To help me keep up with the two of you.” Cradling her face, he stroked her lips with his thumb and caressed her ear with his fingers. “I’m not so immune to the same fears you battle as you might imagine me to be, Alice. Someday, you and Jay may decide to move on. I would very much like to postpone that day for as long as possible.”

His naked admission of vulnerability wasn’t something she’d considered. The fault of her own selfish blindness, or his expertise at concealing himself behind a composed, confident exterior? He wrestled with doubt. Worried her affections might turn.

That was silly.

Like her fears.

She should…let them go. And help him let go of his.

She raised her hand to his where it grazed her cheek, holding him still and turning to press a kiss into his palm. “I don’t want anyone else, not as a dominant and not as a lover. Just you and Jay. Let me show you?”

Henry’s hand slipped away as he stood.

She lifted the edge of the blankets, the oddity of inviting him into his own bed while another man slept at her back a piercing note of uncertainty shrieking at her. But he settled on his side, facing her, without evidence of hesitation or concern.

His hand brushed her stomach. With a gentle touch, he unwound Jay’s arm from her body. Trapping her gaze with his, he spoke in his low, commanding tone. “Jay. Roll over.”

The warmth at her back disappeared.

Past her shoulder, Jay sprawled on his stomach on the far side of the mattress. He seemed asleep yet, despite the bedside light and their voices. Maybe he slept as deeply as she often did in Henry’s bed. Obeyed Henry’s voice on instinct. Would she do that? Had she?

Henry and Jay might’ve made love as she slept beside them. Fearing they’d left her out would be a step backward. If they had, she wouldn’t begrudge them. If they hadn’t kicked her out, her waking to find them together didn’t concern them. She was welcome here. She belonged
.

Henry touched her cheek, turning her to face him. “All right, Alice. Show me, dearest.”

She shoved the covers down past their hips, her eagerness to explore him the way he explored her pulsing with every heartbeat.

Running the back of her hand over his chest, she memorized the smoothness of his skin and the not-quite-roughness of his hair. She treated his body as if every inch were new. It
was
new, the idea that he wanted to keep her here, contented and in his bed, so much so he’d seek out new activities and games for the three of them. Had he planned to bring a promise of more adventure to their negotiation Monday?

She turned her hand over and traveled the same expanse with her palm, the familiar firmness of his chest and softness of his stomach with a hint of roundness. Whatever might’ve gone on at the club, she’d damn well reclaim anything that—

“So serious.” His voice soothed.

He flattened her hand beneath his, against his sternum. With his fingers shielding her own, she seemed to disappear into him.

“No one has touched me tonight, Alice. Not even a kiss of greeting or a clasp of hands. Only you.”

The tightness in her throat eased. Leaning in, she kissed him, tentative and searching. As if it were their first kiss, as if he’d walked her to her door and might expect to be sent home with nothing more than this.

She pulled back long enough to drag air into her lungs and kissed him again as she pressed her weight against him, her hand firm on his chest. She couldn’t push him over without his cooperation, but he followed her silent signal. His arm came around her waist to rest on her spine when he allowed her to tip him onto his back.

Now she had both hands free to stroke his arms, his shoulders, his neck. To cup his face as she kissed him, to run her fingers through his hair, nails dragging over his scalp.

He kneaded her back and buttocks as she squirmed atop his thigh. She bent her leg to better straddle him and his cock hardened in response.

This was making out like she’d never done it in high school. Henry’s bed offered infinitely more comfort than the bed of a pickup with a sleeping bag thrown open. His devoted attention made her proud to share her body, and he wouldn’t be apologizing in five minutes for coming in his jeans.

The highlight of those experiences, when second base was the best her boyfriend could hope for, had been the forest of stars above her and the cool breeze washing over her. They’d have to try it sometime, the three of them. This summer. Jay had camping gear. He’d expected she would join them. She’d suggest it to Henry. Later.

Right now she busied herself staking her claim to his neck. Nudging his face to the side, she sampled the spice of his skin, the savory hint of leather akin to the scent of her flogger, the citrus zest as sharp in its perfection as the meals he served her. She nibbled on the cord of muscle leading to his shoulder. Taking her time, she pleased herself, gratified when his breath caught or a moan rose from his throat or his hands clenched on her ass.

She moved leisurely down his body. The muscles of his neck and shoulders. The hollow of his throat. The line of his collarbone. All became well-acquainted with the suction of her lips and the stroke of her tongue.

His cock stood hard and ready for her long before she’d finished her attentions to his chest, the slopes of his ribs and the softness of his stomach. When she knelt between his legs and covered the points of his hips and the creases of his thighs with nipping bites and teasing kisses, he groaned low and thrust at the air.