Jared stirred quietly next to me, his body moving closer, his head seeking comfort against my chest as he hummed out in contentment. My hands rubbed his bare shoulders, mindful of the welts as I sank into the mattress below me.
In the end, sleep claimed me, and my body became warm, as it fused with Jared's like two puzzle pieces slotting together. Those were my last thoughts as I drifted off, and somewhere deep in the shadows of my mind, there was an echo of my affection for the man next to me. There was a quiet voice of reason whispering that I was in danger of getting too close to him, and it would be impossible to pull myself away, leaving the same kind of pain in our wake as there was in Charles and Mistress Kayla’s.
I was sent out to get beignets the next morning. There was one place in particular we got ours from. Mistress knew it would take me a while to get there and back, and I had a feeling it had been her plan all along. She wanted to talk to Jared about the night before, and that was fine with me.
For the first time in a week, I pulled on a pair of jeans, and a light sweater and climbed into my own car. Jared had offered me the keys to the Jaguar after taking one look at my generic little junk heap of a
Toyota
, claiming it didn't have much life in it. I'd declined sweetly. I didn't take kindly to people insulting my vehicle but I saved the grumbling for when I slid in behind the wheel.
It had been an odd morning for us. It had taken a while to get going once Jared had woken up stiff and achy. I’d done everything in my power to make it easy for him, and he’d rewarded me with a warm kiss and a look of trust that made my stomach flip almost violently. Once I’d finished, he rolled his shoulders, and that was the last I saw of his discomfort. He wasn’t going to allow himself to be vulnerable in front of Mistress Kayla, and I understood that. He just wasn’t going to escape the discussion about it.
The streets were already busy when I pulled out but I relaxed into the fabric of my seat and hooked up my iPod so I could listen to my favorite songs as I drove toward the French quarter. I parked a little further down than necessary and got out, taking a deep breath, enjoying the few rare moments I had to myself.
My thoughts from the night before were beginning to hound me again. Not the ones about Mistress Kayla and Charles, but those about my lack of jealousy and obvious comfort with Jared. Our trust had been cemented after bonding over the whip and aftercare that followed. We moved around one another in perfect synchronicity, even though I was questioning everything about our relationship. The evidence of growth was in the little things we did, like trading milk for sugar over morning coffee, or how we'd come to share a bathroom with no hassle, and even the mundane, like separating the newspaper sections.
I wasn't the only one who'd noticed these interactions. Mistress Kayla had stepped back and watched with amusement, her perfectly arched eyebrows high on her forehead. I made a point of detouring to give her a good morning kiss before kneeling at her feet and bowing my head, while Jared read the business section of the paper.
That's when I'd been dismissed.
I wasn't sure why I'd woken up in the contrary mood I had. It could have been the confusion at all of the emotions that I was tucking away, ripping the edges of the box I tried to shove it all in. Maybe I was finally jealous because of my own ridiculous meddling. Whether it was the echo of thoughts that had lingered in my mind, or the replay of Mistress in tears, was anybody’s guess. What I did know for certain was that I had to do something about my growing attachment to Jared. I had a feeling it was hurting Mistress Kayla to see it, even if she kept up her cheerful smile. The only problem was, I had no idea where to begin.
We needed trust in order for him to bind me and touch my body at his whim, and in order to have trust there had to be a level of closeness between us. We’d already more than established that. If I pulled back, it would only confuse matters, and confuse him. The last thing I wanted to do was deter him from this lifestyle if he chose to pursue it. This limited my options considerably, but seeing as it was mainly my problem, maybe it should be in my head that I needed to make more of a distinction.
I wasn't sure that would work, though. We had an undeniable physical connection, so if I withdrew mentally there was a chance that my body would reflect that.
I loved Mistress Kayla, and I had no doubt in my mind about that, but at the same time, I knew what I was beginning to feel for Jared was more than a simple attachment, and I'd be lying to myself if I denied it. I paused mid step, half a block away from the bakery I was heading to. Someone skimmed my shoulder as they passed, my sudden lack of movement forcing them to go around me.
How could I go on subbing for Jared? What I felt would only continue to grow. Unfortunately, even with this epiphany, I knew I still couldn't stop what I was doing, not only because it was disrespectful to Mistress but also because I knew in my heart I couldn't walk away without experiencing his touch, or the pain I knew he was capable of gifting me.
Stepping to the side, I leaned against the nearest building, my Chuck-clad feet crossing as I fought for air. I had two more weeks with him and a choice to make. End it now, or see it through and accept the pain of saying goodbye when our time was over. I knew what my heart and body wanted, but my head fought it all the way. Logic was fighting desire. Would the pain be worth it in the end?
In that moment, my head joined with my heart and body. Yes. It would be worth it. At the end of the day, I could say that I'd had passion in my life – that I’d been a part of something bigger than myself, because he would be something special in the BDSM community if he continued on the way he was. Everyone would know his name, just like they knew Mistress Kayla's. He was a natural.
Pushing from the wall, I continued to the small bakery and stepped inside, getting in line as the anger and frustration bled from me.
I'd lied to myself, which was where the confusion and anger had come from, but now I knew. All I could do was put one foot in front of the other and move forward. Memorize every part of the experience before I said goodbye.
My mood improved as I stood there patiently, inching my way forward and finally placing our order. The moment I got back to the car, my music was exchanged for happier tunes as I weaved through the traffic to our home.
I found Mistress Kayla and Jared where I'd left them with coffee and the morning paper, and the lack of tension in the room told me they'd talked. They'd needed to clear the air, which was exactly why I'd been sent away from the house.
Plating the beignets, I made my way back to the table and slid them on the surface as I took to my knees beside Mistress. She leaned in close, her hand running from the crown of my head to my jaw, tipping my head back so her lips could brush my forehead.
“Such a good girl. Did you eat one in the car?”
My laugh was genuine as I leaned into her touch. “No, Mistress. I wanted to have breakfast with you and Sir Jared.”
“There’s a first time for everything, I suppose.”
My mouth opened and closed like a fish before I gave in and grinned up at her. There was no point in lying. She was right about that being my routine. I bought what was requested and snuck one in for the trip home. I'd always thought I'd gotten away with it, but I should have known better. I swore she had eyes in the back of her head sometimes.
The rest of breakfast was pleasant. Listening to the two of them talking, Jared asking questions and her replying with years’ worth of examples was perfect. Much like Charles, Mistress Kayla had some of the best stories around. She wasn't just known in New Orleans – she'd been half way around the world and back. My favorites were of her in Japan and learning to work with rope. She'd only ever suspended me once, but it was a memory I clung to. I had a feeling it was the closest I would ever get to flying.
“I feel like I've missed out on so much already,” Jared said quietly on the couch above me. I was sitting between them both, my body listing from side to side and enjoying their attention. I was fighting to keep my eyes open. I was so warm and comfortable that I was beginning to feel like a lead weight. We only had a couple of hours before we left for the club and I needed to get ready. I had no idea what Mistress had planned.
As always, I had to wait for her command, but I knew even a minute longer and she'd be waking me up from a deep, comfortable sleep. I had two of the best Dominants I knew sitting on either side of me. Feeling safe was an understatement. It was that reassurance that finally sent me into a doze.
“Experience has a lot of weight, but this is in your blood. You're only ever going to be as good as you want to be, as strong as you push yourself to be and as masterful as you feel. You've been experimenting for a week and are already better than some of the Doms at the club.”
“I hardly think that's accurate.”
“Ask Kit. There are many of the male Doms she isn't comfortable with unless I'm present. She trusts me and will do anything I ask, but only because she trusts me to not ask anything unreasonable from her. It’s a balance and you're catching up quickly. You haven't asked anything of her she can't handle, even if she thinks she's incapable. It’s all about finding their limits and pushing the boundaries until you find the definitive line they’re not willing to cross, without them using their safe word, of course.”
“You're talking about last night?” Jared asked, his fingers slowly teasing the roots of my hair until the world felt like it took on a dream quality.
“She didn't like seeing you in pain, but you needed her and she gained strength from your belief in her.”
“It's a symbiotic relationship.”
“See. You understand more than you think you do. Understanding the relationship between Dom and sub is a huge part of this lifestyle. If you're just some asshole on a power trip, you'll never find satisfaction. Even sadists understand that the subs need the pain as much as they need to give it. That understanding means mutual respect.”
This was the point that their voices lulled me to sleep. Their conversation fading down a long tunnel as the darkness, warmth and safety consumed me.
The thing I liked most about Luke the most was his enthusiasm. He hadn’t taken himself out of the scene completely when he’d silently sworn fealty to Mistress Kayla; he was still part of the crowd of subs who milled around, entertaining everyone with his dancing. He was amazing, his body able to find a rhythm in any song, his double-jointed limbs moving with perfect precision.
No matter how involved he was, he always had his eye on the door, and the moment we entered, he was there, his head bowed as he groveled at Mistress' feet. Jared’s look of surprise almost had me breaking my well-practiced deference to laugh so I stood with my head down and my hands linked behind me.
That didn’t, however, stop me from peeking up, and once again catching every eye in the place on Jared as he stood tall and proud next to me. His hand was occasionally brushing my side with his continued need for contact, and it almost seemed unfair that he wasn’t as attached as I was, because those little reassuring touches were just one more in the list of things I couldn’t stop thinking about.
“Look who’s popular this evening. They’re going to be disappointed that Kit has stolen another eligible Dominant,” Mistress said quietly, leaning over me to talk to Jared.
He laughed in response, his hand moving to the small of my back possessively. I’d never really noticed the other subs’ stares before. I’d always been in my own little world, completely lost in Mistress Kayla. I’d maybe occasionally caught someone looking at her with longing, but I hadn’t thought they’d begrudged me my happiness with her. As for Jared… well, it seemed they’d get their turn soon enough. For now, I didn’t care. I was going to make the most of the time I had with him.
“Kit?”
“Yes, Mistress?” I asked, my body turning to hers, keeping my reverence obvious.
“We’re going to get a drink. Why don’t you relax for a while? Luke?”
“Yes, Mistress?”
“Think you can get Kit to dance?”
Luke’s laugh as he rose to his feet was adorable, and as he held his hand out to mine, our eyes meeting under our lashes, his smirk told me I was in for a drilling. Just like the Dominants mingled, so did the subs. I had some friends in the club that I would dance with and talk to, but Mistress didn’t send me away very often.
“Thank you for my beautiful dance partner, Mistress.”
“You’re very welcome. Now go.”
Luke’s tug on my arm had me strutting behind him, wiggling my ass before he stopped and twirled me up against him. Mistress Kayla asked him the same question every time, and Luke took that as a challenge. I was the ‘bounce on my knees and wave my arms around’ kind of girl, but Luke was very into his heavy bass music, and inevitably, he had me swinging my hips and dipping against him as our hands trailed over one another’s bodies. As provocative as it looked, he and I were just friends. There was no chemistry there other than on the dance floor.
“You’re in for it.” He laughed, hooking my leg with his as he ground up against me.
“Oh yeah? And why’s that?”
“Look around you, Kit. Every sub in the place is looking at you. They all want to be you. Including me.”
“That would be awkward. I've never had a dick before.” I snorted, peeking around subtly. “What the hell are you talking about, though?”
“You have a suave British gentleman drooling over you and you’re owned by the most predominant Mistress in the city, maybe the country. Can you see where we’re coming from?”
I bucked my hips, kicking my ass back against him, and circling in a shimmy until I was facing and pushing him playfully. “You shouldn’t make assumptions, Luke. You know what they say about them.”
He spun me again, his hand on my stomach, pulling my back against his front as he circled our hips. His mouth was by my ear as I turned my head. “Tell me your secret.”