Chapter 5
Mason
Mikayla is fairly quiet on the ride back to San Esteban. I park on the street outside of her apartment complex. “I’ll walk you up.”
“Oh, you don’t have to—”
I hold up a hand to cut her off. “I want to.”
She looks pleased. Good. I want to please her. Pleasure her. A sick, selfish part of me wants her for my own. What can that punk Jonah do for her that I can’t?
These thoughts are unfair, though. She’s a collared submissive, and I can tell she’s deeply in love with her Dom. I won’t interfere, no matter how much I want to.
Jonah meets us at the door, opening it wide. As soon as Mikayla reaches the threshold, he attaches a leather cord to her collar. “On your knees, pretty plum.”
She drops down.
Jonah nods at me. “Won’t you come in?”
“Sure, thanks.”
Mikayla crawls alongside him as we go farther into the apartment. He gestures I should take a seat, so I settle into an armchair near a small Christmas tree. I wonder if this is where Mikayla usually sits, because it smells like her perfume—something sweet with a faint hint of cinnamon.
Jonah drops the leash on the couch. “Stay here, little one.”
She sits on the floor, looking after him as love shines in her eyes.
He moves to the open kitchen area. “Can I get you a drink, Mason? A beer? Coffee, water?”
“Coffee would be great, if it’s easy.”
“On it.” He turns on a coffee machine. “Milk or sugar?”
“Touch of milk, thanks.”
“And you, pet? What would you like to drink?”
“Water, please.”
Once our drinks are handled, Jonah returns.
He sits on the couch across from me. Mikayla settles next to him on the floor, leaning against his leg.
He rests a hand on her head. She’s fully clothed, and yet the vulnerability of the moment strikes me in the chest. It’s a scene of trust and love—and it hurts. Maybe I should’ve gone straight home.
I’ll drink my coffee quickly.
“So, pet play.” I nod at the two of them, Mikayla sitting on the floor by his feet.
“It’s pretty light pet play.” Jonah runs the leash through his fingers. “Notice she’s drinking from a glass, not a bowl on the floor. It isn’t always this, though. Sometimes she’s my little girl, and I’m her daddy. We like the power exchange.”
My cock twitches. Yes, I could definitely see her as a little girl.
“You two seem to have a good thing going. I’m glad for you.” Translation: I’m really fucking jealous. Retta refused any and all advances to be kinky. I’ve missed this world—the exchanges, the scenes, all of it.
“We do.” Mikayla leans her head against Jonah’s knee.
He runs his fingers through her hair.
I’ve barged into their domestic euphoria. It’s time to leave. I drain my coffee mug and lean forward. “Thanks for the coffee. I should get going.”
“Already?” Mikayla frowns. “Do you have somewhere to be?”
“No, but…” Shit, I can’t come up with an excuse.
“Will you have Christmas dinner with us?” Mikayla asks.
If it had been Jonah asking, I would say no. But Mikayla…she’s my weak spot. Still, I hesitate. “I’m sure you two have your own plans.”
“We’d love for you to join us.” Jonah gives me a careful look. He’s asking me to join them for more than just dinner.
The opportunity to touch Mikayla again is too tempting. But she has a boyfriend. Can I be a part of this, knowing that my time with her is temporary?
How insane am I, that I want more than just one night?
I close my eyes. I’m being such a sucker. Retta wrecked me and now I don’t know who I am anymore.
“Please, Mr. Clark?” Mikayla’s voice pulls me from the beginning of my spiral. “Stay for Christmas dinner.”
I open my eyes to meet her blue gaze. “Sure, I’d love to. As long as I’m not intruding.”
Jonah stands and unhooks Mikayla’s leash. “Not at all. It’s a simple meal, but there’s more than enough food.”
* * *
Jonah
Dinner is delicious, with a ham I’d thrown in the oven and a few basic side dishes—green salad and roasted potatoes.
We talk. Mikayla recounts everything that happened this morning with Violet, who apparently has two new boyfriends. I tell Mason about my work as a software engineer. He talks about his job at Ironwood Security.
My phone buzzes with a text. I plan to ignore it until it buzzes two more times in quick succession. “Sorry, I should check this.”
Mikayla and Mason carry on with the conversation. She describes the bakery where she works part-time—Donut Daddies—and how the owners are talking about making her a full-time employee and expanding their offerings with her help.
My cousin Ariel has texted again. Merry Christmas to you and Mikayla. I might be out of touch for a bit. I’m okay, though.
Fuck. I frown at my phone. I type back, Are you sure you’re okay?
Her response comes within seconds. If you are fucking questioning my sanity, I swear I will come over there and smack you.
Jeez, someone’s defensive. Although I don’t blame her—she was nearly placed in psychiatric hold by her asshole ex-boyfriend. I’m not questioning your sanity. Just want to make sure you’re okay.
I’m fine. Sorry.
Shaking my head, I slide my phone into my pocket and return my attention to dinner with Mikayla and Mason.
“Everything okay?” Mikayla asks.
“Yeah.” I pick up my fork. “My cousin Ariel is wishing us a merry Christmas.”
Our conversation resumes. I can tell Mikayla likes Mason.
A lot. I like him too, although not in the same way.
Strong Daddy Dom vibes with this guy, and it affects Mikayla.
She’s extra sweet to him, subtly seeking his approval.
I don’t even think she’s aware of this, which makes her actions even cuter.
Soon, it’s time to start clearing the table. Mason helps me while Mikayla starts the coffee maker. Once dinner is cleaned up, we go to the living room. This is when Mikayla and I were going to exchange gifts, but by unspoken agreement, we don’t move toward the tree.
It’s up to me to get whatever’s going to happen, to happen.
Mason excuses himself to use the restroom. I sit on the sofa again. Mikayla brings out a dish of sugar plums, setting it on the coffee table.
The candy is sweet and tart, perfect.
I finish another bite, then lean toward Mikayla. In a hushed voice, so Mason can’t overhear, I say, “How would you like to fuck Mr. Clark?”
She gasps. “I—if he wants to—”
“I’m asking what you want, pet. This isn’t a mind game. I’m asking seriously. I think you like him—that’s what I’m reading in your body language. But if I’m wrong…”
“No. Um, you’re right.” She leans against me, her sweet scent filling my lungs. “I like him. I love you—I always have. But I have feelings for him, too.”
Her expression is one of complete vulnerability and adoration.
I realize that this is what was missing from me inviting Colton to share Mikayla. It had nothing to do with Colton—it had everything to do with Mikayla. She has to want the other guy. She has to care about him. Colton aroused her, sure. But she didn’t have feelings.
With Mason Clark, she has feelings. And those feelings are strong.
I kiss her cheek. “Then we’re going to make it happen.”
Mason returns and takes one look at us cozied up on the sofa. Before he can make up an excuse to leave, I hold up a hand. “We’d love for you to stay and visit. Enjoy some coffee. Give little Mikayla some well-deserved attention.”
Mason’s eyes narrow. “Is your pet feeling neglected?”
“No, she just wants an extra hand.”
He switches his focus to Mikayla. “Is this true?”
She bites her lip. I can tell she’s nervous, but she’s also brave. She nods. “I would love to get attention from both of you.”
“Then maybe you should come over here and sit on my lap for a little while.” He sits in the armchair and grins, slow and easy.
Mikayla looks to me.
I pull her leash from my pocket. “Let’s put this on. I’ll give it to Mr. Clark.”
Her eyes widen. I’ve never let another man hold the leash. But she looks excited as she obediently scoots closer. Her affection for Mason is real, and I’m certain this is the right decision. I attach the leash to her collar.
I get up. “Stand, pet.”
She stands, and I walk her across the room and hand the leather strip to Mason.
“Up here, Mikayla.” Mason pats his leg. “What should I call you?”
She gives him an impish grin. “I liked it when you called me young lady.”
He chuckles. “I bet you did. All right, young lady, sit on my lap.”
“Yes, Mr. Clark.”
I’m still standing in front of them as she drapes herself over his knees. It’s a beautiful pose. I’m about to ask for a photo when a loud knock cuts through the sexual tension.