Twisted Up Over You (Heated Holidays #1)

Chapter 1

Chapter One

Gray

“Is my street corn salad an appropriate thing to bring to the kinky potluck dinner?” was a string of words I never thought I would say, but here I was, saying them to my best friend, Tally.

She considered that for a moment, pursing her lips. If there was anyone I could voice this question to, it was my best friend since college who was the reason I was even attending this gathering in the first place.

She nodded. “Yeah, that sounds good. It’s going to be very casual. I brought my focaccia donuts filled with jam last time and they were very popular.”

Of course she had. Tally was into baking right now and I often got to reap the benefits of having her as a bestie.

“Fuck, those sound good.”

She grinned and opened her freezer. It was absolutely packed to the gills with leftovers in labeled freezer bags.

“Do you want raspberry or blackberry? I think I have some with lemon curd in the back.” Fuck me, all of those sounded amazing.

“Blackberry, please.”

Tally pulled one out and threw it in the microwave to defrost.

“Want some tea?” I was as comfortable at her place as I was at my own, so I knew where the cups and her tea stash lived.

“Yes, please.”

I filled her kettle and flipped it on to heat up for both of us.

“So you really think corn dip is okay? It’s not weird or anything?”

Tally put her hands on my shoulders. “Gray, my love, you’ve gotta relax. I feel like you think you’re walking into a dungeon. It’s not like that.” She could reassure me all she wanted, but until I experienced whatever the hell this was going to be, I had no idea what I was in for.

Two years ago, if you asked me if I’d go eat dinner with a bunch of kinsters, I would have said you had the wrong woman. Sure, I’d thought about a few things, but I was very vanilla, thank you.

Then I’d met my ex, Alina, and she’d completely opened my eyes to a whole new world of sex, pleasure, and intimacy.

Tally had been there for all of it, as my best friend that I shared almost everything with. Plus, she’d been very open about her own kinks with me and had shared her journey with figuring out what she liked a few years earlier than I had.

Now here she was, dragging me along with her again. I didn’t like to think of her as a leader and me as a follower, but that was sometimes how things went with us. I tried not to mind too much.

“I’m not going to a dungeon. Probably ever.

” Tally had been and had come back and filled me in.

All of it sounded entirely too overwhelming to me.

I couldn’t explain to her that it wasn’t my cup of tea.

But a potluck dinner where everyone was fully clothed?

That was different. That I could handle. Hopefully.

Tally grinned at me from under her thick bangs. “It’s going to be fun. I promise. And I know your safe word if you want to leave for any reason.”

My safe word with Tally was different from my safe word with partners. More people should have safe words outside of bedroom activities in my opinion. If I ever had kids, they were getting their own safe words they could use.

“Well, a few years ago you had never owned more than one vibrator, and look at you now.” She wiggled her eyebrows.

It was true. I had upgraded since then. Maybe a little too much.

I’d gone from having a box under my bed, to a second bigger box, to an antique chest I’d found at a thrift shop that had a removable tray on top. It sat at the foot of my bed and I used it as a bench every day to put my socks on.

Yeah, things had changed for me.

The night of the dinner I came home from my job as an executive assistant for the development office of the local museum and tore through my closet to find something to wear.

Gray: What do you wear to a kinky potluck?

I really should have thought of this last night, but I’d gotten completely sucked into a history documentary and had forgotten.

Now I was panicking. My orange cat, Dandelion, a.k.a. Dandy, was no help and was currently making biscuits with the clothes I’d already rejected.

Tally: Do you still have that shirt with the cute little vibrators on it?

Gray: …yeah. But I’m not wearing that.

Tally: Why not? This is the place to wear something like that.

She was right. I’d bought the shirt as a joke and had never actually worn it in public. All the vibrators had little happy faces and the text on the shirt said “good vibes only.” It was totally silly, but honestly? Where else could I wear such a thing?

Gray: I’m bringing a backup shirt just in case.

Tally: You’re not going to need it.

At least it was December in Massachusetts and I could wear my coat over it so no one in my complex would see the scandalous shirt.

Tally was also picking me up, which was nice of her to do.

By the time she messaged that she was waiting outside, I’d fixed my shirt, made sure my dark waves weren’t looking too chaotic, and had slid my feet into my boots by the door, my corn dip and bag of chips carefully balanced so I didn’t drop anything.

“Let me see the shirt,” Tally demanded after we’d made sure the corn dip and chips were safe in the back with her bread. Rolling my eyes, I unbuttoned my jacket and showed her my vibrator shirt under the glow of the streetlight.

“Oh my god, amazing. They’re going to love it.”

The potluck was being held in the next town over at a very nice home in an adorable neighborhood.

The kind of place where influencers would do pensive poses on the porches with poetry quotes.

The kind of place where everyone decorated for Halloween and Christmas with a theme and competed with each other.

Tally drove past the house and found an empty spot up the street, making me check the sign to make sure that she wasn’t going to get towed or ticketed.

“You’re good.”

We gathered our containers and walked down the sidewalk, shivering and pressing ourselves together to conserve body heat. At least the sidewalk was clear, and we weren’t in danger of slipping or sliding on black ice.

The house was lit up with a warm golden glow and strings of rainbow Christmas lights and real fir garlands wrapped around the columns on the porch.

I didn’t need to be a real estate agent to do the math on what this house cost. Something I’d never be able to afford, that was for sure.

Even more intense than my nervousness was my desire to see inside.

Tally always teased me about my hobby of looking up homes online to see how much they were worth and to take virtual tours.

But she was the one who was online and looking people up anytime there was a whiff of drama. We were both nosy as hell.

Tally knocked and the door opened, letting warm air scented with cinnamon wash over us.

“Hello, good to see you, come on in.” An older woman with short graying hair was holding the collar of a golden retriever that wiggled and seemed desperate to say hello to us.

“Sorry about him, he’ll calm down.”

We stepped inside and she gave a command to the dog, who immediately sat, but still strained toward us and whined pitifully.

“This is my friend, Gray, that I told you about,” Tally said, gesturing to me.

The woman smiled. “So nice to meet you, Gray. I’m Emily and this is Boomer. Welcome. Everyone is in the kitchen, as usual.”

She helped us remove and hang our coats in the foyer closet and we both placed our boots on the mat by the door. There were quite a few pairs there already.

My nerves kicked in again.

“Breathe,” Tally said in my ear as we followed Emily and Boomer past a gorgeous staircase, an office on the left and a formal living room on the right, to the back where a kitchen and a second living area were bustling with noise and people.

“Everyone, you remember Tally, and she brought her friend, Gray.”

Everyone’s eyes seemed to stare into my soul as I tried to get my bearings. Tally gave me a wink and went to set down her bread. The marble-topped island was absolutely overflowing with food.

“Um, this needs to be heated up?” I said to Emily, holding up my dip. “And I brought chips.” Tally had carried them for me.

“Would it work in there?” Emily asked, pointing to a row of crockpots on the counter all lined up.

“Yeah, definitely.”

Emily helped me pour the dip into the crockpot. Tally had thrown herself into the crowd, as she always did, and I was left to find my own way. I loved her, but sometimes I could feel a little abandoned.

“Gray, this is my wife, Devi.” I almost let out a sound of shock because Devi was one of the most beautiful women I’d ever seen in person. Glossy dark hair, deep brown eyes, and geometrically perfect features.

“H-hi,” I managed to get out.

“Nice to meet you,” she said, giving me a smile that made me weak in the knees. I couldn’t stop staring at her face. She didn’t look real.

“Are you nervous?” Devi asked me after sharing a look with Emily.

“A little,” I said.

“Oh my goodness, I love your shirt!” I’d completely forgotten about my T-shirt. Why the hell had I let Tally convince me to wear this? I was going to die of embarrassment.

Devi laughed and my face turned fifteen shades of red, including some that hadn’t been invented yet.

She touched my arm. “Don’t be nervous. We’re a very casual group. Sometimes we talk about kink, sometimes we talk about cookie recipes. And sometimes we share our worst sex injury stories. It all depends on the night.”

Okay, cool. I could handle that. I didn’t see any whips or chains or sex furniture. I did see a few harnesses, and even some other silly T-shirts. One person even had pants that said “IT’S NOT GONNA SPANK ITSELF” on their ass.

Deciding that the only way to get through this night was to take the first step, I let Devi take me toward the seating area and introduce me to several people. Everyone wore stick-on nametags with their pronouns, which was a huge help. You could even add your preferences, if you wanted.

“See? Not so scary,” Tally said in my ear once I’d started to relax. Boomer the dog made the rounds and tried to see what food he could get access to.

I guess I’d expected more structure, but it was very informal.

“The hot tub is up and running if anyone wants to take a dip!” Emily announced and a few people said they were going to change.

“I figured you wouldn’t be ready for that the first night,” Tally said, when I gave her a look.

“Yeah, I’m good on that,” I said. Not that I’d be opposed, given the right circumstances.

A few more people had trickled in and one in particular looked familiar.

“Do you know the woman who’s getting a drink from Devi right now?” I asked Tally, keeping my voice low. Someone announced that they were going outside to smoke, and a few people joined in. In hindsight, I should have had a little nibble on an edible before I came to help me calm down.

“Mmmm, no. She doesn’t look familiar.”

I knew I’d seen her before, but I couldn’t place her. That was going to bug me all night.

You’d think I would remember someone who had waist-length red hair. The shiniest, most stunning red hair that I’d ever seen.

“She’s gorgeous, that’s for sure,” Tally said.

“So?” I whispered back.

Tally gave me a look. “A lot of people schedule hookups at these things. You should go talk to her. Offer her some corn dip. And then tell her you want her to make you cry.”

“Tally,” I whisper-yelled. This might have been a kinky event, but I didn’t need her telling everyone about my dacryphilia. That wasn’t something I just busted out with strangers. Not even the ones who wouldn’t judge me for it.

The woman turned and I finally realized where I knew her from, and I desperately wished there were a plant I could dive behind.

She was my next-door-neighbor.