Chapter 25 #2
I am never going to achieve his type of posture. I would probably have facepalmed at least once by now.
“Master Fire and Ice.” Everett ducks his head, offering the tray.
D’Angelo takes off two small cakes. “The club looks spectacular. Good job.”
“Thank you, sir.” Everett raises his head, and his honey eyes fill with pride.
“Yeah,” Shay says, “bloody brilliant. But where’s Axel? He promised to show me his moves on the dance floor.”
“Are you sure that you’re up to dancing?” When I tap Shay’s ass, he blushes.
I would love to see him try.
“Permission to speak to your sub, sir?” Everett asks.
“Always. Even on event nights, you’re under no restrictions when it’s just us,” D’Angelo replies.
Everett’s shoulders relax, and his gaze flicks up to Shay’s.
“You’ll have to wait until midnight to be schooled by Axel on the dance floor.
He was impressed by your skills when he taught you for the demonstration.
I bet that he’ll be dragging you back to the poles himself with your sir’s permission.
Now, however, he’s getting ready for a pole dancing performance that will start after Master Shibari’s.
Excuse me, I must get back to my duties. ”
Everett weaves back into the crowds.
My brow creases. “Does he ever get a day off?”
“Of course.” D’Angelo holds a cake up in each hand in front of Shay’s mouth and mine.
We both allow ourselves to be handfed. Shit, that’s good.
I enjoy watching the way that Shay licks at a crumb on his plush lips, humming in satisfaction at the same time that I am enjoying the same taste.
“But not in the way that you mean. He enjoys working for his mistress. But he has one day a week where he can talk to her outside that dynamic to check in if everything is working as they both need it to. He’s under her authority but he’s not controlled. ”
I nod.
Shay looks thoughtful.
Longing.
This morning, when we woke up tangled together in bed like I have come to love, Shay was bouncing with excitement that this was our first Valentine’s Day together.
We were still dressed in our sleepwear, apart from Shay who had predictably found an excuse to sleep naked.
We sat in a circle together on the bed, drinking the morning coffee that D’Angelo rather than Eden brought up, since Eden is still recovering from his injuries.
I was also stuffing my face with the delicious heart shaped chocolates that Eden had presented on the side of my coffee as my gift.
It meant the world that he had taken the time and effort to make them himself.
“This is our first Valentine’s together,” Shay said in wonder like he was holding something precious in his hand that he was terrified of breaking.
“It’s my first Valentine’s Day with anyone,” Eden added.
D’Angelo’s gaze was piercing. “My first with Robyn. I have dreamed so many times of this. In fact, every Valentine’s Day for a decade, I have wished that I was spending it with you.
I would refuse every invitation or offers for dates and spend it alone because it felt so wrong that I wasn’t able to be with you. ”
My breath hitched.
Sometimes, I forget just how many years D’Angelo has spent alone, obsessed with me, waiting for me.
Loving me.
His love is all-consuming.
I am his first and only love.
I am so fucking grateful that we have found each other again. No matter what obstacles kept us apart, we have overcome them. It makes me believe that we can overcome anything.
I reached for his hand. His strong fingers entwined with mine.
“I’m here now,” I swore. ““This is for a lifetime, remember?”
“And not a single day less,” D’Angelo replied, low and possessive.
When I glanced at Shay, I noticed that he was staring flatly into his coffee.
I didn’t mean to exclude him.
Immediately, D’Angelo let go of my hand and placed his coffee down on the nightstand. Then he crawled toward Shay, startling him.
He knelt over him, gripping him by the chin. “It is my first Valentine’s with both of you, cucciolo.
Shay’s expression was fragile. “I didn’t think—”
“Well, I thought that kissing you on the ice was a big enough gesture. I’ll just have to fuck you over the goal next time.”
Shay’s mouth fell open.
I smothered my laugh behind my hand.
D’Angelo leaned down, swiping his tongue between Shay’s open lips, before drawing back. Then he pulled something that glittered out of his black pajama pocket.
Two simple gold bracelets with the name JUDE D’ANGELO woven into the design.
“Happy Valentine’s.” D’Angelo gripped Shay’s wrist and clasped one of the bracelet’s around it, before tracing over his name three times.
Shay swallowed. “I love it, darlin’.”
“Wouldn’t want you to forget who you belong to.” D’Angelo pressed closer to Shay, at the same time that he held their hands together against the bracelet. “Plus, if you wander off, a stranger will know who to return my pet to.”
“Very funny.” Shay’s pupils were blown wide.
“I do my best.” When D’Angelo turned to me, I raised my wrist.
“I love you, Jude D’Angelo.” I smiled. “I wish that I could take back all those lonely Valentine’s that we missed being together but I can promise a forever of Valentines from now on. We shall all be together, showing our love not only on this day, but every day of the year. And no more hiding.”
Eden and Shay exchanged a glance. “We have something for you both.”
Shay scrambled to grab something that he had hidden in the nightstand. He must have put it there the evening before, or D’Angelo would have found it.
It was impossible to hide presents from D’Angelo. He should have been the gift detective.
Shay carefully laid the Guide next to a small arctic blue photo album that matched it.
His ears were tipped red. “Dee did most of the work. He’s the talented one who took the photos.”
Eden narrowed his eyes at him. “This was Shay’s idea.”
“I’m sorry that it’s not… We haven’t done this before and weren’t sure…” Shay looked frustrated with himself.
I flicked open the photo album.
“Oh.” my smile widened. “This is perfect.”
D’Angelo peered over my shoulder, before his smile became as wide as my own.
I didn’t even know when Eden took the photograph, but it was of Freedom Mansion, when we were all in the lounge together. We were deep in conversation, laughing and relaxed.
We looked like a real family.
My eyes burned with tears, as I flipped through the album.
Some of the pictures were official ones that Eden had taken as the Bay Rebels official photographer. Others were casual ones that he’d snapped over the last five months. Eden was occasionally caught in them, when Shay must have snatched the camera from him.
Somehow, I loved Shay’s manic selfies with Eden looking mildly confused in the background the best.
Dad stopped taking photos after Mom’s death. I’d forgotten how Cody and I missed out on something as simple as family photographs.
How much having them now suddenly makes me feel less neglected and like I matter.
D’Angelo couldn’t have had anyone but the press take his photo after he was abandoned by his family when he was seventeen.
He looked as close to crying as I was.
“Thank you,” I whispered.
“I love it.” D’Angelo traced over a photo of the two brothers baking together in the kitchen, while being covered in flour. “I will enjoy filling it with plenty more photos.”
Then Shay opened the Guide as well and resolutely wrote out another entry:
Love is…
And we each added our Valentine’s entry.
I wrote:
Love is being seen.
Shay wrote:
Love is feeling alive.
Eden wrote:
Love is safety.
D’Angelo wrote:
Love is acceptance.
It’s why we’re not wearing masks tonight.
There is no photography allowed at On the RACK events. Everyone here has signed contracts that binds them legally to full discretion. Partying here are actors, singers, and CEOs, as well as locals from Freedom.
If there wasn’t trust, then there couldn’t be a community like this.
It’s fucking liberating.
Also, it’s mutually assured destruction.
Smart.
“Want to discover why Ty is called Master Shibari?” D’Angelo points toward the raised stage where an audience has already gathered.
Shay perks up. “Yes, Sir.”
D’Angelo’s pupils dilate.
D’Angelo may be teasing Shay with the bunny tail, but Shay can take his revenge simply by the use of his polite, submissive Sir.
It has a greater impact on D’Angelo than stroking his cock.
D’Angelo straightens his shoulders. “Follow me, pets.”
He marches toward the stage.
I nudge Shay. “You’ve triggered his dominant gene.”
“I know.” Shay winks.
He grabs my hand and tugs me after D’Angelo, grimacing on each careful step.
As we cross the club, a number of subs glance at us with curiosity.
They greet D’Angelo enthusiastically or stop for a quick word with him.
I can see how Shay’s shoulders tighten each time. Yet it makes me happy to see how liked D’Angelo is.
He’s a protector.
I understand that with Heine now.
D’Angelo (along with his friends The Kinks), has been looking out for this community quietly, while being ripped apart in the press as a cocky, uncaring playboy.
My lips thin.
I am even more determined to turn around his reputation in the press and work on his PR.
D’Angelo has been keeping Freedom’s failing economy alive for years. I won’t allow the sport that he loves to kill him.
My eye is drawn to the area next to the stage, however, which is filled with large wooden and leather equipment.
Kay is seated on a tall wooden throne, as if ruling over the plush spanking bench, set of stocks, pillory, cages, and a St. Andrew’s Cross.
She is dressed as a Gothic Red Queen in a scarlet and gold ball gown with a dramatic frilled collar. She is wearing a spiked crown, and her face has been painted white with a red heart over her right eye. She is tapping a red heart riding crop threateningly on her thigh.
Cassian sprawls on the arm of her throne in a cute one piece PVC stripy pink and purple Cheshire Cat outfit.