Chapter 17
Chapter Seventeen
Drake’s deck was made for parties, Ray decided as she sat cross-legged on one of the loveseats and watched the ferry crossing the Sound to Seattle. It moved slower than a turtle on a wide highway.
It was a shame Hope and Peter wouldn’t be able to join them until later, but she was enjoying the time with Mac and Rona. She tipped her face to the noon sun as she listened to the two women debate the merits of various protocols.
Mac rolled her eyes. “Alex sometimes goes for strict protocol when we’re in the club or at a party. It bothered me at first, but I must admit it does push me into a submissive headspace.”
“So how did you meet Alex?” Ray waggled her eyebrows. “Maybe at the club where he told you to kneel or something?”
“I wish. Alex and I had a dreadful introduction,” Mac glanced at the open door. The rumble of men’s voices came from the kitchen where they were preparing lunch.
“You seem to have overcome a rough beginning,” Sitting on the facing loveseat, Rona smiled at Mac.
“A dreadful intro? Now, we really need to hear how you met. C’mon, Rona, aren’t you curious too?” Ray leaned forward.
Rona laughed. “Crom, yes. Can you share, MacKensie?”
MacKensie’s face went slightly pink. “Well, let me start by saying an abusive foster home left me with a couple of neuroses. Since one of the punishments there was to lock us in a tiny closet, I can’t stand locked doors. I even carry lock picks.”
“That is abuse.” Rona’s expression was furious. “Let me tell Simon their name. He’ll—
“I’ll go after them,” Ray said at the same time. “They’ll never—”
“You two,” Mac interrupted. “It’s okay. The foster mom had her license taken away years ago. Anyway, I wanted to move away from the Midwest, but funds were tight, so I went through an agency to do house and dog sitting. My first job was here in Seattle. For Alex.”
Whoa, this was…was better than a book. Ray bounced on the couch. “Go on.”
“Well.” Mac had a rueful smile. “There was a locked door, and… Locked doors are bad things. So, my bad, I opened it.”
“You didn’t know Alex at all?” Ray asked.
“Nope. He’d mailed me the house key. Circumstances forced him to cancel his trip. He came back and found me testing out”—her face turned red—“the spanking bench in his dungeon room.”
Ray started snickering and couldn’t stop.
Even unflappable Rona was grinning.
“I know. What a beginning. It gets worse. Foster care left me with another problem…and Alex figured it out.” Mac sighed. “I had the unshakeable belief that being spanked means you’re loved.”
“What?” Rona set her glass down with a thud.
That was way wrong, Ray thought. Wait…wait…
wait. “I get it, I think. I was in foster care too. No real punishment, not like yours—thank you, universe—but the foster mom’s pampered prince and the foster boys got all the attention.
Us girls were pretty much ignored. I bet your foster mother had a child who got spanked, right? ”
Mac pointed her finger at Ray. “You nailed it.”
Rona leaned over and set a hand over Mac’s. “Alex must have helped you with this, or you wouldn’t even talk about it. Did you get counseling?”
“You bet. Master Alex insisted, the bossy butt.”
“I heard that,” came from behind, and Ray jumped.
Pitcher of iced tea in hand, Alex refilled their drinks, then leaned over and kissed MacKensie. “Just so you know, it won’t be my butt burning later.” Without waiting for an answer, he strolled back to the kitchen.
“Guess that means he loves you, huh,” Ray said in a low voice.
Mac laughed. “We’ve been together a while now. It’s not always smooth sailing, but I know he loves me.”
“How about you, Ray? Drake said this morning your relationship is new?” Rona asked. Ray knew it wasn’t from curiosity but more like her being big sisterly. The woman cared about people.
“Only about a month. We’re still learning about each other, but it’s good, at least when we’re alone. I do worry about…” Her voice faded. “Never mind.” Complaining would make her sound petty.
“Friends here, girl,” Mac said. “Let us help.”
“I don’t think you can.”
But they waited, and she sighed. “It’s just… I don’t fit in with the other members of the club. Or not some of them, anyway. And I don’t know what to do.”
Mac’s eyes narrowed. “I bet Justine is riling people up.”
“Justine?” Rona asked.
“A submissive Drake was with for a few months last winter. He broke it off, but recently, she decided she wants him back. Only…he’s gotten involved with Ray.”
Ray sighed. “Loud, forgetful, impulsive, socially inept Ray. I’m sure people see me and can’t believe he’s really interested.”
“I know how you feel. I’m not a gorgeous twenty-something.” Rona cupped her breasts. “Things aren’t perky; other parts are soft rather than toned. I get the same kind of disbelieving looks.”
Ray’s mouth dropped open. “But you’re amazing; you and Simon are perfect together.”
“Why, thank you. Simon’s friends agree. The ones who don’t can be problems.” Rona smiled at Mac. “What do you see when you look at Ray and Drake?”
“He adores her; it’s obvious.” Mac pursed her lips. “But it’s more. He’s more…him…when she’s around. More awake, more interested in life, laughing. Happier.”
“There you go, sweetie,” Rona said to Ray. “His friends know what’s important.”
Ray stared at Mac. And felt pure contentment. Drake was happier…because of her. Then she huffed. “If only I didn’t have to deal with club members. Maybe we could live on an island?”
Mac snickered. “You do live on an island.”
“I meant a tropical—”
Laughing, Rona interrupted. “Ray, you’re stronger than you know. I saw you in action with the aggressive flogger in class and with your ex. You were firm without being mean or vindictive. You’ll take care of this Justine when the right time comes.”
Mac nodded her agreement. “I got your back—and so will Hope.”
Ray blew out a breath. She sure didn’t feel strong. Then she straightened her spine. But she was a tough, smart person. Her friends were right. I can and will deal with Justine if she keeps pushing. “So, let’s go see if the men have managed to make us lunch.”
“I think I missed out on a lot of fun, having a foster father who disliked visitors,” Ray said to Hope and Rona as they went into Drake’s kitchen that evening. She started uncovering the pies she’d brought.
“You really did,” Hope said. She and Peter had come over on the ferry for a late supper. “This was fun—and Drake is sure a great cook.”
“That was yummy shrimp fettucine alfredo,” Rona agreed.
Even better, everyone had pitched in to make the Caesar salad and garlic bread.
Dessert would be equally simple. Rona was already getting the vanilla ice cream out of the freezer. Hope grabbed plates.
Ray smiled at them. “You guys are the best.”
“We know.” Hope grinned and motioned for Ray to lead the way out.
The rest of the group were still seated around the big dining room table. Drake, Simon, Peter, Alex, and Mac.
As they all turned to look, Ray held up the two pies. “It’s blueberry season, so I brought blueberry pie and vanilla ice cream as my contribution.”
And she grinned at the enthusiastic comments as she dished up servings. It really had been a great day.
She’d learned more about how BDSM worked outside of the club from watching the couples interact. Hope was very submissive to Peter, even occasionally calling him Master and kneeling when he was sitting. Were they a 24/7 relationship?
MacKensie didn’t seem to be as…as submissive. But when Alex gave her an order, she obeyed without even thinking about it.
Rona and Simon didn’t do any D/s stuff, though their scenes in the convention dungeon had been really intense. Rona said their play was mostly in the bedroom or clubs.
What kind of D/s relationship do I want with Drake? During the day, she’d felt him studying her, but he didn’t order her to do anything.
Earlier, she’d tried kneeling at his feet and calling him Master. She shook her head. It didn’t feel natural. Not at a casual gathering.
All the same, when he asked something of her or even held his hand out, everything inside her responded with happiness.
With a need to please him. When his chin lifted slightly, and his quiet voice got that deep, implacable tone, she didn’t even hesitate.
If she’d been a dog, she’d have gone belly-up to offer her neck.
So… Her reaction made her think she wanted more than dominance being confined to the bedroom and club.
With a grunt of exasperation, she called herself back to her task. Everyone was served. She took her plate and resumed her seat beside Drake at the table.
He put his arm around her. “Ma chérie, what has you unhappy?” His voice was soft enough no one else heard. In the low lighting, she could see concern in his eyes.
“I was trying to…to…label what’s between us. You said Justine didn’t want a power exchange outside the bedroom, and you want more than club and bedroom, but not a Master/slave relationship. But…what are we?”
When his chuckle was echoed by others, she realized she hadn’t lowered her voice. Dammit, Ray, you idiot.
Cupping her face, he kissed her, light and quick. “We are something between. No label needed. We’ll explore what we want. Any time you’re uncomfortable or if you decide you need more of something, we’ll talk and work it out.”
The knot of worry in her chest relaxed at his utter confidence. When he pulled her chair closer and put an arm around her shoulders, she leaned into his side. Her heart felt full. Yes, somehow, they’d work out what they each needed.
And eventually, she’d manage to tell him how much she loved him.
After they’d polished off dessert, everyone helped with cleaning up.
Everyone. And it was nice none of the men sat around, expecting to be served.
Huh. How weird was this? I do love pleasing Drake. But if he took her service for granted and expected it all the time…no, she wouldn’t be happy. Although there were lots of slaves and submissives who were.