Finding Their Balance (8 page)

Tiny amid the dark, heavy furniture, Emma sat behind a wide desk stacked with papers.

“What flurry of wood pulp has landed on your desk this morning?” Henry strode inside. His presence lightened the shadows collecting along the high ceiling and deep corners. “This is the glamorous work you would have had me take on?”

Deferring with a teasing bow, Jay let Alice enter first. The oversized office cried out for a poker game at the round conference table, the sort that went all night with suit coats slung over seatbacks and women in tight-laced corsets serving whiskey, neat, from silver trays.

“Hardly, Henry.” Emma carried on writing as she cast a swift glance at him. “Penning lines is my specialty.”

Chuckling, Henry waved his partners into the seats before the glass-topped desk.

The leather supported more than cushioned. Spine straight, Alice perched at the edge with her knees clamped together. The massive furniture, the broad desk, imbued Emma with the power to decide fates with a penstroke. Assessing her suitability for Henry, Emma could find her wanting.

“Truly, I hoped for something similar to what you’re doing.” Emma signed her missive in an elegant hand. “I thought you might teach an ethics and safety class for dominants.”

The heaped papers appeared all of a kind, possibly a form letter for the membership. The individual words stayed stubbornly indiscernible from this side of the desk.

“And I thought we might teach submissives together—a mandatory class in their first thirty days on safe negotiation.” With swift grace, Emma folded the letter into thirds and slipped it into an envelope. “Recognizing abuse. Setting limits. Seeking help.” As she licked the flap, she raised her eyebrows at Henry. “Things worked out superbly from my perspective.”

No kidding. They’d dragged their asses to the club on a Saturday morning for Henry’s first class for submissives. Next week, they’d take on dominants.

“Victor always admired your cunning. He got more than he bargained for when he taught you to play.” Heavy-handed and welcome, Henry kneaded Alice’s shoulders. “I’ve been blessed to discover that joy twice over.”

Not blessing but—“Skill.”

“Talent,” Emma said, their words overlapping.

As they traded a stare, her flicker of irritation disappeared in the other woman’s subtle smile.

“Blessed is good. I’m blessed, too. And I’ll let Henry pick his own words.” Flashing his tongue at her, Jay drummed the arms of his chair. “We ready to rock this?”

“Certainly.” Emma wrote a name across the envelope.
Master
something. “I’ll leave this with Caitlyn and walk up with you.”

With the letter slotted into a numbered box behind the reception desk, they climbed the grand staircase. Emma, in her flowing white dress with its floral silhouettes in navy, led their troupe. Her low heels matched the blue, naturally. “I’ve put you on the third floor. The classroom setting seemed appropriate.”

The green-ribboned staffer at the second-floor bag check nodded as they passed.

“I appreciate your commitment, Henry.” Making the climb, Emma spoke without turning back. “I know you’ve other calls on your time and skills.”

“I wouldn’t have done this if I didn’t find it valuable and rewarding, Em.” Henry rapped his knuckles on the banister. “My time is my own. I choose to spend it in this endeavor.”

“Still. Your assistance is a godsend. Things have been sliding.” At the top, Emma waited with her back stiff and her face pinched. “Too many things, for too long.”

Henry planted his feet beside her and dipped his head. “You might’ve asked for help earlier,
sverchok
.”

The falling tone of Emma’s hum suggested otherwise. “Stress does strange things.” She pushed a tiny laugh through a strained smile. “You’ve seen nervous and confused novices strangling themselves in knots. Grateful for what’s given and afraid to be labeled a burden.”

Like a woman so afraid of throwing a wrench in the gears she’d segregate herself from her lovers for months while they all silently wished for more togetherness. Alice banged her toes reaching for the next step.

“You haven’t been a novice in a long while, Em.” Frowning, Henry touched her shoulder. “And you’ve never been a burden. Either I’ve been a poor friend, or you’ve been a skilled liar.”

“Or I thought I might handle a few things myself.” Arms folded, Emma hugged her elbows. “And discovered a problem larger than I could manage.”

“I did, too.” Shit, she came off the stairs and tumbled into their conversation with the subtlety of a rodeo clown. “Wanted to handle everything myself at first.” No way Emma needed a distraction or a rescue, and she sure as hell wasn’t the woman to offer one. And yet. “I got all turned around and panicked.”

Rocking back a step, Henry pressed his hand to the middle button of his jacket. He glanced from her to Emma and back again. “I specifically told you—multiple times—to come to me, Alice.”

“I didn’t realize then how tiny things mattered so much. How they piled up.” Did they ever. Festering wounds and unanswered questions were the worst. “I thought I’d only bother you for big stuff. But big-small is a slippery emotional slope. I couldn’t calculate the difference.”

“You didn’t accept that those decisions belonged in my hands.” Cupping her cheek, Henry rolled his thumb across her lips. “You harbored a nascent, unformed concept of submission.”

She did still. Her whole system came together patchwork quilt-style. Complex systems like sex and love deserved the certainty of Euclidean geometry or Newtonian mechanics, not all this quantum Heisenberg shit. What she wouldn’t give for a fucking manual.

“I was nascenter than Alice.” Hands in his pockets, Jay teetered heel-toe. “I didn’t ask questions I should’ve or protect myself. Giving away all the decisions? Two words: thrill ride.”

“You, my dear boy—” Henry tugged him forward by his shirt and slapped a kiss on his mouth. “You had been steered down the wrong road.”

“I like your map better.” With his spreading grin, Jay proclaimed
like
an understatement. “Even if the trails are all named ‘Trust’ this and ‘Safety’ that. I memorized them so I can recite ’em in my sleep.”

“I wanted you safe even if you chose another dominant.” Henry smoothed the wrinkles from Jay’s shirt.

“That’s why this class will succeed.” Her steps brisk, Emma waved them past the first three doors. “You’re an exceptionally ethical man, and your pets come from either end of the trust spectrum. Look at their balance now.”

Exposure rankled. Jay, sure, he’d been hard-wired with an inability to withhold trust. And, yeah, she’d gone into this unwilling to trust people with her emotions. Extending trust to Henry and Jay had been slow and scary. Adding Emma—knowledgeable, overly insightful Emma—she’d get there. When she had more data.

Emma opened a door and flipped on the lights. Illuminating her face, they captured porcelain translucence. A thin surface of delicate perfection rested on a wistful hollow beneath. “They’ll make excellent assistants.”

Not the same, though. Had Emma’s husband been alive, five’d getcha ten the two of them would take on prized pupils for further study. Handing the job to Henry smacked of passing the torch. So long as Emma refused to grapple with the problem, no one supplanted Victor. But once she’d gotten up the courage to ask, Henry’s initial rejection must’ve stung.

What the hell. Some premenstrual surging hormonal solidarity shit had to be causing her uncomfortable sympathizing. Worse than cramps.

“Well?” Emma ushered them into the space, her gaze on Henry. “Will this do?”

The setup mimicked a high-school classroom, right down to the old-fashioned, one-armed desks. Jay swung into a front-row seat, slouched low, and raised his hand insistently.

Unbuttoning his coat, Henry leaned his ass against the teacher’s desk. His crossed arms tightened his dress shirt. Gravity turned his pants into showpieces outlining his extended legs.

Fucking delicious.

“You have a question?” Henry smoldered, his gaze low and intense as coals waiting for the prod to stir him into flames. “Speak.”

Arching his hips, Jay almost managed to pull off casual resettling. Gave himself away wetting his parted lips. “I wanna show how well I perform in this subject.” His impish undertone disappeared under Henry’s unbroken stare. “Do you allow oral presentations for extra credit, sir?”

Their heat throbbed in her chest and rooted her to the floor. In her imagination, Henry lowered his zipper, stood his cock upright, and ordered Jay to his knees. Her lovers sang with muffled whimpers and low-toned growls.

“See me after class.” Stern-voiced, Henry lifted his chin. “Be prepared to show your work.”

In a full-body shudder, Jay dropped his head back. “Oh yeah. This room works for me.”

“Show-off.” She teased through her laughter. In the contest for her favorite Jay, happy, sexy, confident Jay won hands-down. He’d challenged some insecurities Wednesday at tea. Henry’s presence today made boundary-pushing safer. Still, he surprised the hell out of her, giving his playfulness a sexual charge in front of their hostess.

“The room ought to do fine, Emma, thank you.” Henry patted the teacher’s desk and left it behind, striding down the aisle with a disciplinarian’s focus. “The atmosphere might encourage our pupils to be attentive.”

The blackboard at the front held chalk in the tray. She battled the perverse urge to write
Master Henry
in elegant script and claim the seat beside Jay. Not their purpose today. Maybe another time. Leaving the chalk, she wiped dust from her fingers.

“I can have the staff bring in a whiteboard setup if you’d prefer.” As Henry measured the space, Emma tracked him with a subtle swivel. “Though the old-school blackboard seems more your speed.”

Jay chortled. Henry barked a laugh. Emma smiled with a touch of pink in her cheeks.

Alice pasted on a grin. Henry’s aversion to technology and appreciation for the personal touch wasn’t a secret, but Emma’s familiarity nudged the border of flirtation.

“No board necessary, Em. A static presentation wouldn’t suit our purpose.” Finishing his circuit, Henry laid his hand on Jay. “I’ve no intention of dictating to our guests. I am not their master. Encouraging and modeling discussion and interaction they take home to their partners or practice as they seek new ones matters far more than a list of rules on any board.”

With a graceful nod, Emma conceded. “I’ll leave you to it. I’m certain your able helpers will keep your hunger for power in check.”

Distinguishing friendly teasing from patronizing condescension on Emma’s lips proved impossible. Or she needed to get her ears examined. Insecurity wouldn’t show up in a routine physical, though.

Jay dug his shoulder into Henry’s hip. “We’ll keep him focused. If he’s lean and hungry all morning, he’ll make a meal of us—I mean, of power—tonight.”

Laughing, Emma bid them farewell.

* * * *

Four arrivals, and every one a man.

At Henry’s command, Jay hopped to on greeter duty. The room swelled with a mix of masculine swagger and self-conscious laughter. At least the smell didn’t mimic a locker room.

Standing with Henry behind the teacher’s desk, she stayed in his orbit. They’d run through the class twice Thursday at home, a great non-sex distraction but also preparation for what Henry would expect of his assistants. Making everyone comfortable enough to listen and participate topped the list. Bro-wattage bursting the meter, Jay locked that shit down.

A fifth prospective student hovered in the hall. Yet another twentysomething male, this one in jeans and a logo t-shirt.

Stepping out, Jay extended his hand. “Hey, I’m Jay. You here for class? My dom’s coaching. Handing out tips for offense, defense, special teams—any position you’re looking to play, this class is gonna up your game.”

The student’s response faded beneath the others’ chatter.

With an equally quiet reply, Jay jerked his thumb over his shoulder.

Leaning around him, the baby-faced new guy stared through the open door at her and Henry. “Dude, no way.”

Jay rocked on his heels. “All mine, man. I’m serious—you work on the approach and knowing what you wanna offer, and it’s starting line every night.”

“Fuck, it’s third-string out here. You hustle hard and you’re lucky you get three minutes of playing time all season.”

“I remember. Once that desperation gets in your head, the game’s over. The only offers come from teams you gotta say no to, but you won’t, because who the hell else is bidding, right? Warps your skills. You gotta say no. You got to.”

“This the shit your class is gonna teach?”

“Hell yeah.”

Student number five sauntered inside.

For a man who hated carnivals, Jay made a top-notch barker. He roped in a sixth and a seventh, the noise level rising with each addition.

Henry stayed out of the fray, assessing his troops from the bunker behind Desk Hill.

Turning her back to the room, Alice relaxed against the desk. Nice ass-height. Comfy resting spot. “Are they what you expected?”

“More or less.” He matched her quiet tone. “Perhaps not what you imagined?”

“I thought there’d be fewer guys.” Or none, or ones less rowdy and more—submissive. “The tea only had Jay.”

“Early afternoon, midweek, with talk and sharing as the stated objective, favors a different crowd than the weekend lure of actionable information to assist in acquiring a partner.” Hands clasped behind his back, Henry bent to her ear. “More than a few men enjoy being ruled by a powerful woman. The poster image for the scene, as it were—the whip-wielding, leather-clad woman in spiked heels with a male pet—is a classic for a reason.”

Intoxication. Submissives drank in dominance like a cocktail fusing with their cells, pushing arousal toward the critical line between heightened awareness and subspace. “You think they’re all looking for one?”

“Possibly.” He surveyed the milling students. “Professional dominatrices do good business, but pay-for-play isn’t allowed here, and sex is rarely included in a professional session.” As his eyes narrowed, he gained a bristling undertone in his voice. “Expert amateurs are less common, and these men might welcome any edge to attract one.”