Chapter 33 #2
“This club has certainly grown,” Trinity says, and I can’t tell if she means it complimentary or not. “So many different types of people. You-know-who used to be such a curmudgeon…I’m surprised he’s let this many new people join.”
Dorian, of course, addresses the elephant in the room. He puts a hand on my shoulder. “You can call him by his name. We all know the asshole in question. By the way,” he adds, pointedly, “Ophelia is Phantom’s submissive.”
“Was,” Ginger corrects, meaning well.
I correct again. “We’re just…in a…complicated period.”
“Oh,” Trinity says. Her eyes go wide, and her gaze flickers over me, as though seeing me through new eyes. Then she repeats, “Oh.”
She goes quiet and looks away. She, at least, has the good grace to blush.
Strange thorns are prickling my chest.
“So,” Carver breaks the awkward silence, addressing Trinity, “What’s your flavor these days?”
“My flavor?”
“Yeah. Are you still a submissive? Or have you changed it up?” Carver starts listing off the options. “Femdom? Brat? Rope bunny? Switch? Service top—?”
“Service top isn’t a real designation,” Dorian pipes up. “It’s just another way to say, I’m so submissive, I’ll dominate you, but only if you really want me to.”
As if summoned, Phantom suddenly appears. He puts his hand on Dorian’s shoulder, and tells him, “I’m so close to kicking you out right now.”
Phantom! I see him, and my heart suddenly lights up in my chest. He looks fresh, recently shaved, in a black button up shirt. Whatever devious schemes and plans I had when I entered the door suddenly go out the window.
All I want right now is to be his.
I watch his eyes scan our group. He spots Trinity, and I hyper-analyzed every single movement of his body. Will his eyebrows hike up with surprise? Will his lips twitch upward in a smile? Will his nostrils flare with that telltale sign of arousal?
I get nothing from him. He simply sweeps his gaze passed her until his eyes meet mine. Only then does his expression light up. He closes the distance between us and says, simply, “You came.”
“I wouldn’t miss it,” I tell him.
And then he cups my cheek in his hand and draws me in, claiming my mouth with a kiss. Claiming me.
I find myself gripping his shirt, tugging him in.
Closer. Deeper.
More.
Mine.
He doesn’t rush. He takes his time sealing the kiss. Instead of pulling away, he winds his arms around me, pulling my back to his front. Cradling me against him. The sweet possessiveness in his arms makes my heart beat faster.
He greets the group from here. Finally, he says simply: “Trinity.”
“Phantom.”
“How are you?”
“Living the dream,” she says airily. Her voice is tight. A little annoyed. This is not how she expected her reunion to go. A very petty part of me is thrilled.
“Good,” Phantom says. And…that’s that. His attention is back on me. He drops his voice, speaking only to me now. “Have you eaten?”
I shake my head. “Not yet.”
“I’ll make you a plate.”
But he doesn’t leave right away. He lingers. He pulls me in tighter and buries his face in the crook between my neck and my shoulder. I can hear him inhaling deeply.
“Why do you smell so good?” he murmurs. His voice has gone quiet, dark.
Oh, fuck. My Phantom-pheromones. It’s come back to bite me in the ass.
I wanted to make him crazy with desire for me, but now the thought of him having an erection with his ex in the room makes my stomach tight.
For the next couple of hours, I want him to be purer than a priest. I want him to be a virgin.
I want him to never have had a sexual thought even enter his head.
I wiggle out of his arms. “Don’t you have somewhere else to be? Getting me food?”
His eyebrows hike up his forehead. His stern “you want to rephrase that?” expression.
I add, “Please, Sir.”
He gives me a confused look, but backs off.
“We’re starting in five,” he tells the group.
“Thank you, five,” I hear myself say. Can’t help it. It’s like a tic.
I watch him go. I realize—I’m not the only one.
Trinity is watching, too.
“He’s still so serious,” she muses.
“Who, Phantom?” I glance back at him. Phantom is in the kitchen, meticulously fixing a plate of berries, cheeses, and sweets as though each choice is a life or death decision.
Pensive, stubborn, control-freak Phantom.
My Phantom. I click my tongue against my teeth, disagreeing. “He’s full of whimsy.”
After some more small talk, our group disperses.
Phantom gets ready to start the speed-matching, but not before delivering my plate.
The food is adorable—the normal spread of strawberries, blueberries, and cheese bits.
But also cookies and cakes in suggestive shapes.
My plate has a cupcake with a vulva-shaped icing.
Dove joins me leaning against the bookshelf. She spies the vulva on my plate.
“That,” Dove says, “looks delicious.”
“Help yourself.” I hand the plate to Dove. Trinity has fucked up everything—including my appetite. Dove starts picking at the cheeses.
“I’m going to leave,” I tell her.
“What?” Dove gasps. “No! Why?”
“If I stay, I’m going to cause a scene. I can feel it.”
“Nooo,” Dove says. “You are welcome to hate on her. But you are not welcome to leave.”
“Who are we hating on?” Ginger pops up next to Dove, a plate of hummus and carrots on hand.
“Actually, Ginger is a great example,” Dove says, motioning to her. “Exhibit A. Ginger was the other woman for, like, two seconds. And now we love her. You never know. Maybe Trinity also has some redeeming qualities.”
“You know what the difference is?” I motion to Dove. “You are a kind and forgiving person. I’m a grudge-holding hell bitch.”
Dove sucks in a breath. “Well, if you go down, I’m going down with you. Ginger, hold this, please.”
Ginger takes Dove’s plate, balancing two plates now. Dove warms up as though preparing to fight. She rolls her wrists. Cracks her neck. Winces, says, “ow,” and then holds her neck.
Thirty-five is fucking rough.
Phantom moves through the room. He stands in front of the unlit fireplace. I get a good look at him now. The black-on-black combo makes him look like the devil in the crowd and I, for one, would give up my winters to follow him to the underworld.
There’s no platform here, no way for him to announce himself, and yet as soon as he starts to roll up his sleeves, revealing those strong forearms, the room begins to go quiet and look up. Somehow, he knows how to command attention without a single word.
I sigh. “I want to chew him like a rawhide bone,” I whisper to Dove.
Dove squints at me. “I think you should try Dorian’s glasses. You may need your vision checked.”
I knock her with my elbow and we snicker like schoolgirls.
“Thank you everyone for spending your Valentine’s Day with us,” Phantom says, lifting his deep voice only a little so he can be heard through the rooms. “You could be anywhere right now. Eating dinner across from your beloved. Instead, you’re here with the freaks.
There’s something wrong with you. I see that in you, and I appreciate it. ”
Chuckles all around.
“First, let’s thank Princess for setting this up…tonight was her brain child and I can attest that she worked her fingers to the bone cutting out hearts until the very last minute.”
Claps and hoots for Princess, who is standing in the corner, maintaining order. She immediately goes bright red, but smiles gracefully about it.
Phantom pauses for Princess to get her flowers.
A little smile from him? He’s proud of her.
It’s sweet. Only when appreciation has completely died down does he continue.
“In the spirit of the holiday…we’ve decided to play a matchmaking game before everyone goes upstairs to play.
You are welcome to sit it out if you’d like.
If you decide to play, here is how it will work.
Those who identify as submissives, take a seat facing the bookshelf.
If you identify as a dominant or switch, you can take a seat facing the windows.
If you’re not sure, just sit where you’d like.
Everyone will take three minutes to get to know their partner.
At the end of the three minutes, I’ll ring a bell, and those facing the windows will get up and find a new table to sit at.
You may ask your partner whatever you like.
If you get stuck, we have questions you can pull from in a bowl at each table.
Once I’ve rung the bell, you should give your partner one of these.
” He holds up two paper hearts in his hand—one black and one red.
“Red means yes, you’re interested in playing with them.
Black means no, you’re not interested in playing.
Write your name on the back. I understand giving and receiving no’s might make some of you uncomfortable.
That’s why we do it. In this space, no, red, and stop are important.
Get used to saying them. Get used to hearing them.
We prioritize clear, open communication among Seekers. ”
This…coming from the man who chokes on his words when he has to express an ounce of affection? I can’t help it. I snort a laugh.
Phantom hears it. He turns to me, and the edge of his mouth twitches. “Ophelia. Do you have something to say?”
“No, Sir.” I flash him my prettiest smile. He looks unamused.
“Alright,” Phantom announces. “Take your seats.”
There’s a stampede as everyone collectively goes to grab a seat.
“Head in the game, Boss,” Dorian says to Dove as he passes, cracking his knuckles.
I glance between the two of them. “Are you two playing?”
“Yes,” Dove says. “Er. Sort of.”
“Why? I thought you didn’t play with other people?”
“We don’t. We’ve made a bet. We’re both putting our worst foot forward. Whoever comes out with the most no’s gets to top tonight.”