Finding Their Balance (22 page)

“No mystery.” He cut his omelet, leaving a crisp diagonal behind. “It’s time.” Assessing her with a piercing stare, he chewed and swallowed. “As our dear boy has given us this opportunity, we mustn’t waste it.”

“We’re going to the club.” Certainty struck deep as a well-seated support post, straightening her spine. “On a play night.”

“On a party night. They’ve a Fourth of July soiree, an annual event.”

“Clever.” As they mingled with the contacts they’d made at tea and in class, they’d expand their anti-Cal reach among the membership. Twisting her fork over, she prodded the omelet. “Guess I’d better get all of my rebellion out at home.”

He hummed a discordant note. “You ought to be you, dearest. Whatever else our agenda holds, do you believe my primary concern would ever be other than your comfort and safety?”

“No.” Outfoxing Cal would please him, sure, as much as crushing the jackass’s balls beneath her heel would her, but Henry always had higher goals. “This is for me.” Since the night of her spanking, she’d only entered the club during off-peak hours. Morning classes, afternoon tea, and Jay’s painful, necessary breakdown. “Testing phase.” Without Jay at her side. “Isolate the variables for total focus.”

She’d ace this exam. Be the best goddamn sub in the place, Henry’s perfect companion.

“A monochromatic work, but lovely all the same.” He smiled his teasing grin, the one with the hint of white teeth behind kissable lips. “My bold adventurer is ever anxious to scale new heights.”

“Will you take Jay by himself—” No. The permutations had a best order, and that wasn’t it. “It’s not just that he isn’t here—you would’ve taken me alone first anyway.”

“Yes.” Eyes narrowing, he tilted his head. “Tell me why, Alice.”

“If I do well, you’ll have my support when Jay’s ready. Double the protection for him. Enough safety to satisfy you and let him have fun showing off his submissive side the way he wouldn’t do at basketball.” Better for Jay to have them reinforcing their pride and love for his true self the next time he attended the club during playtime. “And if I flop, he won’t bear witness. My faltering confidence won’t infect him with extra fear or shame.” The conclusion fit, though she lacked visual confirmation of the evidence chains. “Either way, you won’t let him play until I’ve proven I can handle a night out first.”

“Exquisite.” He folded his napkin and laid the rose linen beside his plate. “I yearn to capture the movements of your mind in color on canvas. Such a beautiful, rolling sea.”

No less than she ached to map his. With love and comfort, he coddled her when she needed and pushed her to grow in the times between.

“Alice.” A wolfish smile lurked in the corners of his mouth and his eyes. “Stand up and step to your right, please.”

Fuck yes.

Heart racing, legs trembling, she pushed back from the table. He’d delivered those words in her dreams since the night in August when he’d made her fantasies real. If she prayed before bed the way she had as a child, knees on the floor, elbows on the bedspread, hands pressed together in front of her face, she’d thank God every night for that moment.

Hands clasped behind her back, she waited for his next command. Close enough to prayer. He answered hers in uncounted ways.

As he stood, he displayed the best sort of surprise, his hardening cock rippling under his pants. He delved in his pockets and pulled out—

“My toy.”

He held the pouch on his palm.

She flexed with stubborn impatience, a rush of heat. “But I put it away like you said.”

“You did.” In his other hand, the black cap of the lube bottle peeked over the side as he rounded the table. “And I promised you would reap the rewards of your good behavior.”

The choice between staring at the bulge in his pants or the one in his hand proved impossible.

“I know you ache to progress with speed. But in this you’ve set aside your competitive desire for victory and your insatiable craving for comprehensive knowledge.” Boxing her in, he laid the pouch and lube on the table. “And why have you done that?”

“Because I respect you.” For so many reasons. He’d given her proof after proof. “I trust your judgment.”

“And because you’ve shown your willingness to follow my direction”—he gripped her hips, and thin cotton slid south—“I’m inclined to grant you latitude.”

“I get to wear it again?” Halle-fucking-lujah.

“For a short time.” Stooping, he swept her pants off. “We’ll increase the time—and your comfort level—incrementally.”

The idea felt pretty damn comfortable now.

He skimmed the backs of her legs and kissed her ass cheeks. “Practicing your lessons ought to be pleasurable.” One-handed, he continued upward, beneath her shirt, and bent her forward. “Lean on your elbows for me. Back arched, please.”

She shoved her ass in the air and wiggled.

The suede pouch gave up its treasure to his slender, penetrating fingers. Swish and flip, the lube opened. Heavy breaths sounded behind her, deep and focused. A man blowing to start a fire. Or to warm metal in his cupped hand.

As he pressed the tip of her toy between her cheeks, lube flowed in a steady stream from above. With slow rotations, he stirred anticipation in sensitive flesh while the plug gained a protective coating, slick against her skin. Her shiver owed nothing to the modest chill.

“Good girl,” Henry murmured. “Be aware of your movement and the feelings, both physical and emotional, wearing your toy inspires.”

Sliding deeper, growing wider, the toy burned, but oh God, what a beautiful burn. “S’good. Makes me want it all.” She stretched in welcome, her muscles beginning a satisfying workout. The slick suction and gentle
pop
of full depth came with familiarity, the thrill without the fear. “Giddy and expectant.”

“Proud of yourself, are you?” He returned the lube to the table. Massaging her ass, he made her toy shift and bump. “You should be.”

“Are you going to fuck me now?” God, she hoped so. He’d gotten her wet and clenching without a single brush of her pussy or clit, and the far side of the table beckoned in memory. “Is that part of my reward, too?”

“No, Alice.” Growling, he spun her by her elbows and hoisted her onto the tablecloth.

Her thudding ass rattled the plates. Rocking into weighted fullness, she moaned.

He silenced her with a hard kiss. “Your reward is firmly lodged in place. This?” As he spread her knees wide, he dragged her to the edge. “This dessert is
my
reward.” Sinking to the rug, he buried his face between her legs and inhaled. “Shall we see if I might make you come for me as many times as I denied myself the pleasure of taking your ass these last eleven months?”

The salon bustled with party-lured players eager to see and be seen. Not Alice yet, not until Henry commanded her. Moving through the crowd at his side, greeting a handful of familiar faces, she eased her fast-flowing currents of anxiety. No sign of jackass Cal, though she scanned for him in a relentless visual sweep. Henry wouldn’t let anything happen to her. But her first night had ended in disaster anyway. Not this time.

Men who’d taken Henry’s intro dominance class—“How Not to Be a Dick,” as she and Jay dubbed it—sauntered over and said hello as Henry circulated with consummate skill.

Henry acknowledged each with stern paternalism, an approving nod and a solid handshake. For those who kept their greeting to her brief and respectful, he made quiet, individual recommendations—“The lovely yellow-ribboned brunette in the floral stockings, do you see her near the rose settee? You ought to speak with her. Her play style would pair well with your own.” Those who stared too hard or ignored her presence had no such luck.

His no-hurry pace set her unstoppable adrenaline on a collision course with his immovable calm. She’d die—in comfortable shoes, at least—before they left the salon. Nearly an hour, and they hadn’t gone upstairs. Hadn’t flashed anything more alluring than her calves. Jay had better ones anyway. Muscular. Vivid and defined in their motion, a living machine with a deep tan, so fucking gorgeous walking naked to the shower—

“Ah, there we are.” Steeped in satisfaction, Henry ended their wandering.

“What?” She eased up on her toes, but nothing popped in the crowd. “Where we are?” A knot of corseted Amazons on ungodly heels parted, revealing a blond-bearded gentleman in a fine suit. “Santa!”

Heads turned, because
fuck
, she’d clamored as loud as a kid on Christmas morning. Her cheeks flamed.

Rolling out a belly laugh, Will snatched the attention. “Now that’s the eager welcome a man longs to hear.”

He strolled straight to them and exchanged a half-hug with Henry. They shared the brand of affectionate masculinity proclaiming the two brothers in arms if not in blood. Confident in their territory, unconcerned with power plays and posturing, enjoying each other’s companionship.

“Will, you remember Alice, I’m certain.” Touch firm and steady, Henry stroked her back.

Her embarrassment faded in the shadow of their comfort. If she’d done wrong, Henry would’ve corrected her. Or covered for her and saved his corrections for at home. In private.

“With fondness.” Santa Will inclined his head toward her. “She’s lovelier each time I see her. Radiant with good health.” His gaze lingered on the canary yellow ribbon draped around her neck. “Are you well cared for, Alice?”

“More than I thought possible.” Every day, she woke astonished and grateful for her men—even when one went missing. Henry had more than made up for Jay’s weekend defection. That man kissed and tongue-fucked like nobody’s business. She’d lost count of the orgasms, her world narrowed to his mouth and fingers and the rippling pleasure with every clench of her ass. Long after she ceased begging him to stop—but not with her safeword, because what if he’d actually stopped?—he’d gathered her and carried her to bed. She’d napped the afternoon away until he’d fucked her awake to shower, dress, and discuss how the night would go.

“Henry has you all buttoned up.” Waving upward, Santa Will left a generous handspan between his gesture and her body. “Such a pity.”

Her navy outer dress mimicked a long jacket, boxy and lined from neck to knee-length hem with half-dome silver buttons.

“Appearances, Will.” As he’d done while twisting her hair up before dressing her, Henry kissed her neck and breathed across her earlobe.

The temperature rose ten degrees. Maybe fifteen. No one else in the salon took note, though Santa wore a broad smile.

Henry smoothed her dress across her collarbone, wrapping her in his embrace from behind. “Tell me your safeword, sweet girl.”

“Pistachio.” Her heart trotted into a faster rhythm.

“And if you need others’ assistance?”

“Red.” The solution she hadn’t thought of in time to protect Jay or herself. Henry had reinforced club-wide safewords in class, and Emma had reviewed guidelines with everyone on staff. “I’ll shout
red
until a play monitor helps me, sir.”

“Excellent.” Kissing her cheek, he filled her with his scent. Dark, commanding leather and crisp, cordial citrus snaked into her lungs.

“She’s learned well.” Santa winked at her with one merry blue eye beneath a fuzzy blond brow. “You must be proud.”

“I am. And delighted to show her off.” Henry fingered her top button and pushed her dress open. “Unwrap yourself, Alice.” Slipping away, he claimed a post beside Will.

Each button a new tease and thrill, she worked slowly while nearby players turned and watched. She held a captivated audience for her obedience. Shrugging free, she revealed her underdress.

Santa sucked in a whistling breath.

Henry held out his arm.

She folded the overdress and laid it across his forearm. He’d chosen the play outfit beneath, too. No confining corset tonight. “The rest, sir?”

“My pocket is empty and waiting.”

Mmmf. His arch fucking tone and expectant eyes got her wet every damn time. Bending forward, pulses fluttering in her thighs and belly, she reached beneath the sides of her dress and pulled down the panties. Over the garters, over the hose, over her thin-soled shoes and off. Navy silk dangled from her fingers.

“Inside my jacket, dearest.” Clasping her wrist, Henry raised her outstretched arm to his face and inhaled. “Against my heart.”

She stepped into his orbit. Pressed to him full-length, with his fine suit and masculine breadth, she drew strength from his heat. Her own exothermic battery. Tucking her panties into his inner breast pocket earned her a forehead kiss.

“You’re stunning,” Henry murmured. “Give us the full effect.”

Her underdress swayed with her as she retreated, at once hidden and revealed to the crowded salon with its low-voiced chatter. Even in her shimmering curtain of sheer fabric and no undergarments, she qualified as fully dressed relative to dozens of others. Wide, opaque stripes of shadowed evergreen swathed her hips and breasts, and the whole of the dress floated slip-like around her on spaghetti straps.

“Marvelous.” Santa scanned her, chignon to slippers. “Might I steal a kiss from this vision of beauty, old friend?”

“A choice she may make herself this evening.” Yellow ribbon coaxed from her neck, Henry affixed it to her dress in a floralesque knot. “But mind your manners, Will.”

Her second test. She’d passed the exposure level without flinching.

“In your company, Henry? Always.” Santa’s flourishing bow to her came off with handsome grace despite the rotund body his suit didn’t entirely mask. “What say you, lady?”

Jay would’ve presented the same extravagant playfulness at home to make her giggle and make Henry growl and claim him. The night Santa’d visited them provided inspiration. Curtseying to her admirer, she shot him a saucy smile. “An elbow kiss, Santa?”

He guffawed, sending their nearest neighbors back a step. “Bested by my own words. Yes, then, an elbow kiss.” He rose to his full height, a good eight inches on her. “Your sweet is a delight, Henry.”

As Henry hummed, she extended her arm.

Santa Will lifted her upturned wrist with two fingers, ran his nose along her inner forearm, inhaled, and pecked her elbow with a beard-bushy kiss.