Little Tease (2 page)

My gut told me she wasn’t the age-playing ‘little girl’ she’d appeared to be at first glance. And I wanted to know more.

An hour or so after she’d reluctantly given up her seat, sitting on the floor as far as possible from my feet as she could, a few people left our corner in favour of the dungeon area. As soon as there was free space, Lena took a spot on the couch opposite, her posture relaxing a little once she was back on a level with me.

More people headed to the play space in the dungeon, or off to dance, and soon there remained only a couple playing their own murmured mental scene, Lena and me.

Her eyes widened a little as she realised it, and for a second I thought she’d excuse herself and find somewhere else to be. To her credit, she decided against it, shooting me a fleeting smile.

Taking her cue, I leaned forward and offered her my hand. “Lena, right?”

Her skin was warm against mine, and the handshake brief. She was on her guard. “Yeah. Sorry about earlier. I’m kinda stubborn when I want to be.”

“
Know the feeling. Don’t apologise.”

Her husky, distinctive voice had a soft Southern undercurrent, which I hadn’t noticed before. I didn’t let myself ponder what it would sound like in different situations; made breathless by my kiss or reduced to a plea under my hands.

Lena offered to buy me a drink before I could make the same gesture. I opted for a beer, and spoke her name as she jumped up.

She turned, expectant and a little nervous. I told her, “When you got back, if you sit on the couch, we’ll get to know each other as friends. If you sit on the floor…”

She bit her lip as the unspoken implication sank in, and I shrugged, ending the moment. “The offer’s there.”

With a nod, she fled toward the bar, and I watched her go with a small smile. Somehow I doubted she’d sit at my feet that night, however much I wanted to bend her to my will. She’d be worth waiting for, though, and she was definitely interested.

Lena lingered at the bar for a little longer than she needed to, chatting with the bar staff. There was a lightly-held tension in her shoulders, despite her feigned casualness; I didn’t need to hear her thoughts to know there was a debate waging within her.

And the more I pursued her, the more she’d run away. She seemed to have made up her mind about me already. Let her; I could be patient when I needed to be, and when I wasn’t working, I had nothing but free time on my hands.

When she returned, she set down our drinks before sitting on the couch a couple of feet from me. Curling her feet under her and nestling into the corner, she gave me a smile that was a little more relaxed. “So where have you been the past couple of years? I’ve been on the local scene for a while, and I don’t remember seeing you anywhere.”

I let her lead the conversation; something she seemed more than comfortable with, once time and alcohol had lowered her defences a little. A genuine passion filled her face as she described her work as a computer programmer, and I didn’t interrupt her, more than a little fascinated by the way she gestured and spoke.

Maybe she was even a little too much for me to handle. As she’d informed me earlier, she was
seventy-one point two percent Domme
, and if she hadn’t subbed in a couple of years—hadn’t felt the urge to do so—then she might not want to start again now. I knew better than to act as though this was inevitable.

I couldn’t take her for granted.

* * * *

Lena

“
I can’t believe it!”

If it was possible, my friend Alex—also known as Smurfette, for her bright blue hair—was more hyperactive than a five-year-old on a cola high. She was practically bouncing up and down, staring at me as if I should already know what she couldn’t believe. “Huh?”

“
I go to Alaska for two weeks, and not only does a new fet club have its grand opening, but you and Josh have the most charged introduction DC has ever seen?”

I stared at her, blindsided. In the couple of weeks since Rack and Ruin’s opening night, I’d tried to forget Josh. Tried not to regret sitting beside him on the couch, rather than at his feet. Tried not to wonder how the night would had ended if I’d knelt for him. “What did you hear?”

Rolling her eyes, Smurfette picked up a flogger from the stall in the corner of the club, trailing the suede tassels through her fingers. “Only that when you guys faced off, the sexual tension was so thick that everyone within ten feet spontaneously orgasmed…”

For a few moments, I was struck speechless by the blatant overstatement. “Did
he
tell you that?” I demanded finally.

“
Nah.” The voice was male, amused, and all too familiar. Josh’s arm brushed against mine as he leaned around me to pick up a wooden paddle from the stall. “Made for a good story, though. Hey, Alex,” he added, and Smurfette stepped forward to gave him a quick hug before excusing herself.

After the hour or so we’d spent talking at the opening night, I’d realised Josh wasn’t a bad guy. Right then, though, I was conveniently putting that knowledge aside. “You’re loving this, aren’t you?”

He shrugged, testing the paddle’s weight. “Never much cared what people think.”

Oh, I’ll bet you don’t, not when it’s something like this
. I didn’t need to say it; he read the thought from my expression.

“
And you’re behaving like a petulant brat,” he said matter-of-factly. “But there isn’t anything I can do about that until you ask me for it.”

“
I will
never
ask you for it.” I meant it, too. Part of me regretted it, but I was too riled up to back down now, not when he was acting like my eventual submission was a foregone conclusion.

Instead of giving me the cocky bullshit I was expecting, he just shot me an impassive sideways glance. “Shame. I think it’d be interesting… for both of us.”

What was I meant to say to that? If he’d tried to make it all about
my
pleasure, then I could at least have called him an egotist. But he seemed genuinely regretful that he’d never know what it was like to top me, and it was really hot.

No, not hot.
Irritating.

He set down the paddle he’d been examining, and I changed the subject. “Not buying?”

“
I make my own paddles,” he told me, and damn it, that was even
hotter.

I mean, more irritating.

Oh, who was I kidding? I wanted him. A lot. But I couldn’t back down now, not a couple of minutes after telling him I’d never play with him. “How?”

“
Out of wood. With hand tools. In my garage.”

I bit the inside of my cheek to resist asking him what else he had in his garage. I had an image of an entire handmade dungeon—St. Andrew’s cross, vault horse, rack… But I didn’t need to know. Didn’t even want to. Nuh-uh.

“
You make anything vanilla, or do you just have the tools on hand in case a kinky urge strikes you?”

Rolling his eyes, he motioned for me to follow him toward the bar. “Just the occasional DIY project.”

At his enquiring glance, I ordered a vodka Red Bull from the bartender, and Josh followed it with a request for a shot of neat bourbon, paying for both.

“
Like putting up shelves?” I asked.

“
And making them.”

“
You must be good with your hands.”

Wait.
Why
had I just said that?

He glanced over, smirking a little, and I narrowed my eyes. “You
know
what I mean.”

“
I do,” was all he said, innocently, and then we were greeted by a couple of mutual friends, and I didn’t get the chance to pursue it further.

I hated that I didn’t hate him.

* * * *

Josh

There was no subs-on-the-floor rule this week, so Lena wound up sitting a couple of people away from me, falling deep into conversation with the girls on each side of her about something completely vanilla, technical and beyond my comprehension.

Between contributing here and there to conversations, I studied her, trying to figure out if her resistance had increased or decreased since our last encounter.

Lena was part open book, part enigma. She was easy enough to read in some ways—enough that a lot of people probably judged her by initial appearances. But beneath the pigtails and girlish mini-dresses, I was starting to get a sense of what made her tick.

It was only the tip of the iceberg, though. We hadn’t discussed kinks; that would be too much like negotiation to her right then, and she’d only shut me out. But I was curious; maybe a little
too
curious.

When Lena jumped to her feet to dance, pulling Alex and a girl whose name I couldn’t remember with her, I avoided the temptation to watch her go. God knew I’d been staring at her enough already.

“
Earth to Josh.” Mel was grinning at me, and she nudged Ben aside to sit beside me, settling down to ply me for gossip.

“
That obvious?”

“
We’re already placing bets on when you two are gonna play.” I frowned at her, and she rolled her eyes. “Getting pissed off isn’t gonna stop the speculation. Watching you two last time was pretty memorable, and word travels.”

She was right, and I reluctantly let go of the urge to tell her to shut down the impromptu betting shop. They’d only start another one the second my back was turned. “You know, if she hears about it, she’ll probably decide never to give anyone the satisfaction.”

“
And no one would care about getting the satisfaction more than you, huh?” she purred suggestively. “If you decide to make her jealous at any point, just say the word.”

I wasn’t even going to step a foot down that road. I’d had my fill of opinionated redheads for a while—my ex-wife, for one. Cocking my head noncommittally, I watched Lena shimmy and sway to the beat. “So what are the odds right now?”

“
Popular opinion says about a month.”

Something told me it’d take longer than that. A lot longer. “Popular opinion seems pretty confident in my abilities.”

“
Oh, come on! She might be mostly Domme, but when she goes down, she goes down
hard
.”

I tore my eyes from Lena, focusing on this new titbit of information. “Yeah? When was this?”

Ben chimed in, nuzzling Mel’s neck. “About a year after you vanished off the radar. Maybe six months after Lena moved up here? Something like that. The guy’s name was Matt. He was up here for some post-grad degree in some complicated area of math no one’s ever heard of. Anyway, she subbed to him for almost a year.”

“
You’re stealing my story, honey…” Mel tugged his earlobe in rebuke, then continued, “Lena has a thing for exhibitionism, so they did a lot of dungeon scenes. She’s a feisty one, but the right hand on her at the right time, and wham—she’s on her knees and halfway to floating. Dunno if Matt just had the special touch, though. I haven’t seen her kneel for anyone else.”

I ignored the deliberate attempt to goad me, getting up and taking a step toward the bar. “Insider’s tip? I’d say longer than a month.”

I didn’t wait for them to reassess their bets. I’d heard enough for one night.

* * * *

Lena

I’d definitely been losing ground against Josh two weeks ago. I didn’t know whether I’d liked it or not—I didn’t know him well enough to trust him, and it had been so long since I’d subbed that I wasn’t even sure I
could
any more.

Okay, that last part was a lie.
I could definitely sub to him. But I shouldn’t.
And just because I wanted to, that didn’t make me any less into topping.

Josh didn’t seem to be around this week—not that it mattered. I didn’t come here for him; I came here to talk kink, watch kink and sometimes even
do
kink. So when Tamara gave me a sidelong glance and asked if I still felt seventy-odd percent Domme, I turned to Izzy with a grin. “Can I borrow your toy-bag for an hour?”

I’d topped Tamara before; she was bad around needles and didn’t go in for much stingy pain. After a quick run-through of her limits to make sure nothing had changed, I grabbed her by the hair and pulled her through to the dungeon, making sure she didn’t stumble too badly.

There was something calming about acting Domme. When I subbed, there was never much going on in my mind—just the instinct to obey and the hyperawareness of sensation. When I topped, it was all about observation, reading body language, figuring out what was too little, what was too much… My focus was narrowed, but there was so much to pick up on that it felt like I was noticing everything, all at once.