Chapter 6 #2
Blaize glanced at Peter. “Is she a Chains member?”
“No, but her foster father was,” Peter said. “I don’t know if you knew George…he was a switch. My wife ran into Ray unexpectedly and turns out they knew each other in high school. Hope was thrilled to reconnect.”
“Ray?” Prescott glanced over his shoulder and froze. “That’s my Ray.” Turning, he headed straight for the women.
His Ray? Irritation drove a spike between Drake’s ribs. Was it because Ray hadn’t mentioned a boyfriend—or because he wished her to be free of commitments?
“Hmm.” Peter’s brows drew together. “I hope she’s not the girlfriend who broke up with him.”
Drake stiffened. Would Prescott be the cause of her trauma? Probably not. It hadn’t seemed as if whatever happened was recent. But still… “I’m in need of a beer. Anyone else?”
When no one took him up on the offer, Drake headed for the drink table…conveniently close to the women and Prescott.
Surprisingly, Ray was enjoying herself. The day was lovely, and the guests at the party were interesting and just plain nice.
A light buzz fizzed in her veins since she’d had a couple of the dark and malty Holy Mountain beers. Seattleites totally embraced local breweries. And coffee shops. And ethnic foods. Cold, damp weather turns us all into foodies.
Speaking of food, she’d sure eaten her share. Shrimp and veggie kabobs. Grilled salmon. Green salad, sourdough bread, corn on the cob.
It was a wonder she had enough room to laugh—but laughing she was. Hope was her usual irrepressible self. MacKensie had a wicked sense of humor.
Tess, a redhead in her forties, was married to a sheep rancher and seemed really sweet.
Right up until she told a very graphic story about their new high school interns who’d been helping with castrating lambs and docking tails. Too funny.
Although I’d probably throw up all over my shoes too.
Giggling, Ray noticed someone approaching from her left and turned slightly. “Theodore.” She stared at him. “How are you here?”
He gave her a look as if the screws holding her brain in her skull had fallen out. “I live in Seattle, remember?” After a second, he added, “Peter is an attorney at my law firm. He invited me.”
“Oh, well.” She couldn’t say it was nice to see him; it wasn’t. And he stood too close—like a lover, not a friend. Unable to step back with her friends behind her, she edged sideways. “You’re, um, looking well.”
“I don’t know how. I’ve been miserable. I miss you, doll.” He reached for her.
She took another step away, but her retreat was separating her from the women, which would result in her talking to him rather than with her friends. She planted her feet. “Theodore, we had this discussion. Several times. And this sure isn’t the place for arguing. This is a party.”
“I agree—this isn’t the place.” His expression turned stubborn. The man clung to his beliefs like a rusty, pitted bolt that would break rather than loosening. “We can get together and talk more privately.”
Her hands closed into fists. In counseling, she’d learned how girls who’d been programmed to be “nice” were easy to manipulate by male predators. Theodore thought she wouldn’t want to cause a scene, and he’d get his way.
Wrong, dude.
She spoke louder. “Did you know naked mole rats are practically deaf? You are totally a mole rat. Since you obviously can’t hear, read my lips. No. No private discussions. No discussions at all. We. Are. Done.”
“Jesus, Ray, shut it down,” he hissed. “You’re loud and hyper again. You’re embarrassing yourself.”
Her shoulders hunched as her confidence splintered like poorly dried wood.
No. No, he would not make her ashamed of who she was.
“Right there, those words, are why we are finished.” She drew herself up, regretting she wasn’t another foot taller.
I want to be the giant in The Princess Bride.
“Keep harassing me, and I’ll use your bones to craft toys for toddlers. Now go. Away.”
Turning her back on him, she rejoined her friends. When Hope put an arm around her, and Mac closed in from the other side, tears burned Ray’s eyes.
“As I was saying”—Tess’s alto was louder than before—“being ranchers, we castrate baby rams. Now my husband prefers to use a burdizzo to get rid of those pesky balls, but me—I’m old-fashioned.
I use a knife.” Her brown eyes held a wicked glint as she cupped one hand around an imaginary testicle and cut it open with an equally imaginary knife.
Ray’s mouth dropped open. “You are not the person I thought you were.”
“I had to find a threat to match your toys for toddlers.”
The others burst out laughing.
“Love the toddler threat.” Mac high-fived Ray and then Tess. “And Ms. Knife, every man within hearing squeezed their legs together...including the bastard who gave Ray grief.”
Ray grinned at the women. “Can I switch sexual preferences and marry the three of you?”
“Mmm, tempting,” Mac murmured before looking over at Alex who stood nearby with Peter and a couple other guys.
Alex was apparently close enough to hear her. His gaze didn’t waver from Mac’s as his lips formed the word, “No.”
There was so much heat in his gaze Ray wanted to fan herself.
Hope snickered. “You’re really asking to get yourself spanked, woman.”
“Duh.” MacKensie blew Alex a kiss and waggled her butt. “He has the best hands.”
Alex grinned—and the Dom had a devastating smile. Yes, the temperature had definitely gone up.
A few minutes later, Theodore left the party. Yes! She’d simply wait a while to make sure he was really gone.
“Hey, Ray.” Lynn was a slim brunette—and also a Chains member. “Have you hit the ice cream sundae bar yet?”
“Uh, no?”
Lynn grabbed her hand and pulled her over to the long table.
“My dear, this is a party. Sugar is mandatory.” With happy chortles, she filled a bowl with vanilla ice cream, added berry topping and fresh-cut strawberries, sprinkled on chopped nuts, and smothered it all in whipped cream.
“Besides, it has fruit so it’s healthy.”
“Sure it is.” Ray eyed the towering concoction. “Aren’t there laws against something so hedonistic?” The Chains police would surely arrest her.
Gods, it’d probably be totally fun. And hot.
“Nope. Although I might go straight to hell for the sin of gluttony.”
“Well I can’t let you be tormented down there all by yourself. Let’s see how decadent I can be.” Ray topped her vanilla ice cream with hot fudge—so yummy—nuts, and a token cherry. “Oh, yeah. Add whipped cream, and I’m for sure heading for everlasting punishment.”
“Indulging, Aralia?” The deep masculine voice was smoother than the ice cream she’d just scooped.
Turning, she stared into brown eyes so dark as to seem almost black. Whoa, did thinking about someone summon them? “Mr. Cop.”
“Oui.” His smile was wicked. “It appears I’m in time to deliver some necessary discipline.”
As if she’d been zapped by lightning, her skin turned super-sensitive. Waiting for a touch. His touch. Instead of backing away as she’d done with Theodore, she barely caught herself from moving closer.
On Ray’s other side, Lynn let out a snort of laughter. “I’ll be at a table when you’re…free, woman.”
Ray could feel a blush stealing up her face, drowning her freckles in red. “I’ll be right there.”
“Perhaps you should add some substance to your dessert. Did you see the brownies?” Drake asked.
If stomachs had ears, hers would have perked up. “I love brownies.”
“I love feeding women who enjoy their food,” he murmured and held up a piece of a brownie. “Open, ma douce.”
When she obediently opened her mouth, he popped the bite in, making a satisfied sound deep in his throat.
And the bones in her body started to melt.
Then he dropped a full-sized portion of brownie into her bowl of ice cream and fudge. “Enjoy, and I’ll talk to you later.”
He ran his thumb over her lower lip to swipe off the brownie crumbles, smiled into her eyes, and strolled away…leaving her hot enough to melt the entire ice cream bar all by herself.
A while later, Ray had finished her dessert and was chatting with Lynn and her Dom, Bob, as well as Hope and Peter. The conversation had turned to Chains, and she glanced around to see if any vanilla people were within hearing.
Huh. The few remaining guests were members of the BDSM club. My bad. She’d gotten so caught up in the discussion she hadn’t noticed people leaving.
At a break in the conversation, she took a step back. “I didn’t realize it was so late. I should be going. But it was wonderful meeting you, Bob and Lynn and Peter. And seeing you again, Hope.”
Hope caught her arm before she could escape. “Uh-uh. I can tell what you’re thinking. You realized most of the crowd was gone, and now you feel guilty.”
Ray’s brain stuttered. Was she really so obvious?
“You did the same thing in high school.” Snickering, Hope told Lynn, “She’s so fun. It’s even better when she pushes boundaries and then is terrified she hurt someone’s feelings.”
“But—” Ray shook her head. “The people still here are your good friends. I shouldn’t—”
“You’re my oldest friend, silly.” Hope tucked an arm around her. “And you’ve been to Chains, so it’s all good.”
“I was only there to finish George’s projects—not to, um, play.”
Peter studied her. “The question is: Would you like to…play?”
Oh my terrifying elder gods.
“Impressive, my Lord and Master.” Hope was laughing so hard her words came out almost garbled. “You silenced her completely.”
Some friend. Ray leaned in to mutter at her, “I’m going to shave you bald and tattoo mean girl on your shiny, hairless head,”
The threat wasn’t quiet enough. Everyone in the group started to laugh.
Peter cleared his throat. Waiting for her answer.
Yikes, he really was a Dom.
Do I want to participate in BDSM play? “Um. Maybe?” How could a person be so torn? She did want to…only what if she panicked? Again?
Last week, only Drake’s patience and understanding—and knowing Hope and MacKensie were there as backups—kept her from fleeing.