Chapter 13 #4
As the two headed down the hall, Ray concentrated on drinking her water. Untensing her muscles. Staying in the present.
Later she’d think some more about that voice. Although everyone had worn masks that night. She wouldn’t recognize anyone who’d been there, except for Crypto, the college student who’d taken her to the play party. But she wasn’t even sure he’d stayed for the…rest. He might well have abandoned her.
A while later, after finishing the water and using the restroom, Ray felt her phone vibrate.
The text was from Drake. “Want to eat a late lunch with me?”
Her heart leaped. Here was what she needed to forget the last hour. And face it, he made her feel so very secure, simply by being himself.
“Sure, where r u?”
“Meet u in the con lounge.”
How easy was this? She was already in the lounge. She sent back a thumbs-up icon.
A couple of minutes later, she spotted Drake entering and felt the buzz of anticipation and pleasure she got every time she saw him. His black hair was swept back. His eyes were dark under equally dark brows.
Everyone seemed to know him, calling greetings.
And then he frowned and stepped right in front of a person. Folded his arms over his chest.
Uh-oh, someone was in trouble.
The person he’d stopped had a precision-cut stubble beard, glitter eyeshadow, and dangling earrings. They wore a pencil skirt and a bright fuchsia corset low enough to show chest hair. And freckles.
Ray smiled. Colors and courage—whoever this was, she liked them already.
But why was Drake giving them a rough time? Her smile faded. He’d never seemed narrow-minded. Could she have been mistaken?
When Drake finished talking, someone called him over to a table—and Ray made a beeline for the colorful person. She checked the name tag. “Are you all right, Neon? Drake looked irritated with you.”
“And you were worried? Bless your heart, my dear.” She got a warm smile.
How could Drake possibly have picked on this sweet person?
“No need to worry.” Neon shook their head. “Master Drake noticed I’d signed up to be a demo model for two whipping sessions. Back-to-back so to speak.” Eyebrows waggling, Neon gave a booming laugh. “He said I needed a break between sessions and to trade with another masochist.”
“Oh.” The Chains cop was guarding…everyone. Her heart simply melted. More than melted.
No, no, no. I am not falling in love with the owner of a BDSM club. No, absolutely not.
Oh Gods, she was.
Neon looked over her shoulder with a fond smile. “You’re way too protective of us all, Master Drake.”
“Occupational hazard.”
The sound of his smoky, dark voice sent sparkles fizzing through her bloodstream.
Drake wrapped an arm around Ray, drawing her in until her side was against his solid frame. Looking down, he studied her for a moment. “Are you all right, ma chérie?”
Yikes, could he see she’d had a panic attack earlier? “Fine. Ready for food.”
“We’ll be off then.” He smiled at Neon. “I take it you’ve met Ray?”
“It’s rare to find someone as sweet as she looks.” Neon waved their hand in a showy benediction. “I approve.”
A corner of Drake’s mouth rose. “But, of course. I knew you would.”
“She has other attributes too.” Neon eyed her. “Like me, your skin must show handprints quite nicely.”
Ray’s eyes went wide. “What?” She sputtered, looking for a suitable retort.
“Yes, it’s most satisfying.” Drake laced their fingers together and started toward the exit. Laughing.
The sadistic jerk.
No, she didn’t love him at all.
“MacKensie, how about this one?” Ray held up a set of pajamas with teddy bears, knowing the veterinarian loved clothing with animal prints.
“Teddy bears, fun!” Mac’s eyes narrowed as she moved closer. “Wait… Teddy bears in bondage? Frak, that’s just wrong.”
Furry paws cuffed together. One teddy bear wore a blindfold. Another held a paddle.
“Seriously?” Hope laughed maniacally and pointed. “This one is holding up a paddle.”
“Bad bear. Me, I prefer a barehanded spanking,” Mac said. “But to each bear his own.”
“Barehanded spanking?” Unexpected carnal curiosity heated Ray’s blood. “Um. It does kinda sound more intimate than paddles.”
“Oh look,” Hope’s voice rose. “This one has a ball gag.”
“Interesting.” The man’s voice came from behind them. “Someone doesn’t want Teddy using a safeword.”
Mac spun around. “Alex.” She hugged him. “How’d your panel on domination go?”
He hugged her back and kissed the top of her head. “Quite nicely. Drake picked a diverse group of people to be on the panel with me, which made for good discussions.”
“Hope. Ray.” But when he nodded at Ray, his expression held amusement. Like… Gods, he hadn’t heard her talking about spanking, had he?
Turning away, he eyed the pajamas and told the vendor, “We’ll take a women’s size ten.”
Mac laughed. “Butler will be appalled. He’s so straightlaced.”
Ray blinked. Wasn’t Butler the dog?
“You know, some people wear pajamas to go shopping. Or to work.” Hope’s eyes danced with merriment. “You could—”
“Bears in bondage at the vet clinic? Absolutely not.” Mac shook her head. “I can’t believe I thought you were a nice person when we met.”
Hope snorted and murmured to Ray, “Considering I met her at one of Alex’s private play parties, I really doubt that.”
Ray could only laugh. Hope, with her big blue eyes and pixie hair, did look sweet. Cute, even.
After paying, Alex took the sack. “After that panel, I feel the need to release some dominance.” He took Mac’s hand. “Come with me, my little submissive.”
And he led MacKensie straight out of the vendors’ room.
“Huh.” Ray glanced at Hope. “She sure didn’t fight back.”
“Not even a little.” Hope sighed. “I’m the same way when Peter pulls out the Dom card.”
“Mmm, I get it.” Drake never lost his seamless air of authority, but when his voice got a little slower, softer, deeper—and the look in his eyes changed, she felt it right down to her toes. As if her stomach got on an elevator going down, down, down.
What would it be like to live with someone who had such power over her? In the past week, she’d had a bit of a taste. “Is Mac happy with Alex being a Dom?”
“Definitely.” Hope dragged Ray to the next vendor and a rack of colorful corsets. “She wouldn’t be comfortable being submissive to just anyone though. But Alex is a really good person. Trustworthy, you know?”
“Trust takes time…” Ray said slowly.
“And enough occasions where trust might be broken—and isn’t.” Hope’s serious blue eyes met Ray’s gaze. “A lot of us have suffered when a Dominant ignored our boundaries or broke our trust. Afterward, it’s tough to let someone in again.”
“Isn’t that the truth,” Ray said under her breath and absently started looking through the rack of corsets. How rare was a trustworthy person—let alone a man.
But…she was discovering she could trust Drake. Even if it was really annoying how he managed to tell she’d had a meltdown and got her to talk about it during lunch.
While he’d held her hand and simply listened. His ability to focus completely on a person—on her—was devastating.
Wonderful.
She shook her head, realized she was flipping through the rack of corsets without seeing them—and then stopped. “Hey, this blue is a match for your eyes.”
The corset was a beautiful, royal blue in a floral, overbust style. Hope held it up against herself. “Mmm, it’d hold the girls up. Pull my waist in. I like it.”
“Of course you do—I have great taste.”
“Peter loves me in corsets.” Hope’s lips tilted up in a smug Cheshire smile. “He considers them almost like bondage. Like how you can’t really bend except at the hips, and when you get bent over—”
“No, no, stop.” Ray stuck her fingers in her ears and tried to drown out the images. “La, la, la.”
Her laughter died when she spotted Drake’s beautiful ex, Justine, whose plump upper lip was raised in a contemptuous sneer.
Ray turned her back…and felt her happiness dying. Damn the woman. She’s totally an assassin of good moods. Or no, maybe something uglier like an exterminator. I should find her a gray coverall and—
“What should I wear with this?” Hope held the corset out at arm’s length to study it.
“Maybe a short, frilly—” Ray’s eyes widened as she spotted Theodore approaching. In her head, she could almost hear the warning cry of: “Flee for your lives. Incoming…”
Her mood spiraled downward. “Theodore, what a surprise.”
Moving too close, he ran his gaze over her, head to toes. “I heard you’d be here. But I was hoping to find you in fetwear, doll.”
If she rolled her eyes as hard as she wanted to, she’d sprain something in her head. “Fetwear is for dungeons, not classrooms.”
“Speaking of dungeons, I’ve been practicing. I’ll pick you up at your room and we can—”
Freaking hell. “No. Don’t you listen? We’re done.”
“But—I can be your Master. Give you what you want.”
Under the frustration, her heart ached slightly. He probably thought he was trying, but he still didn’t have a clue.
Because he wouldn’t listen.
“Theodore, I already told you no when you asked if you being a Dom would make a difference.” She shook her head. “And I can tell you from experience, a good Dom listens—and hears—what a submissive says.”
“I knew it.” He tried to stand straighter. “I knew you were submissive. You’re made for me.”
“No.” She could feel her face flushing. Her voice rose. “No, I am not made for you.”
“Dammit, if I hit him, Peter will get mad,” Hope muttered from behind her. “But I’m up for it if you want.”
A fistfight between Theodore and Hope. Ray burst into laughter, half-snorting. But no. “Go away, you idiot.”
“Shhh.” Palms down, Theodore made lower-it motions. “Don’t go all drama queen and loud here. Shut it down, doll.”
“You shut it down.” When she poked a hard finger into his chest, he stepped back. “I have had it with you. Stay away from me.”
“Christ, you act like a toddler having tantrums. What is wrong with you?” Realizing people were watching, Theodore stomped away.
Ray shook her head as anger warred with frustration.