Divine Solace: 8 (20 page)

As she ate at least half of the food, she gazed out the big
window and wondered if Marguerite and Lyda consulted on gardening tips, because
the view reminded her of Marguerite’s private side garden at the tea shop. A
perfect meshing of plants flowed together around conversation points, like a
spiral walkway, a fountain, a meditation bench. A pair of concrete rabbits sat
next to the bench, one on his hindquarters while the other burrowed among a
lavender-colored sprinkle of flowers. Marguerite might have bought some of her
plants from Lyda, though Gen didn’t know how long they’d known one another. She
didn’t know much about their relationship at all, which made her wonder how
much Marguerite could be coaxed to tell her.

No one coaxed Marguerite to do anything. You asked and
waited for her decision. She and Lyda had that in common as well, but Gen had
noted an intriguing softer side to Lyda, like the expression in her eyes when
Noah had gripped her wrist. She’d issued that gentle reproof,
Behave
,
but it had been laced with fondness.

Was Lyda in love with Noah? How would being in love look on
Lyda?

She wrapped up the rest of her breakfast and found a bag in
a stash of recycled grocery bags to tuck it away, along with heels and bra.
She’d eat the remainder at lunch. Gen washed her plate and utensils, put them
in the dish drainer. As she straightened, she realized there was no evidence of
Noah’s presence here. At Gen’s house, he’d been very respectful of her space,
making his bed in the morning, leaving the room exactly as he’d found it. Was
that part of his submission?

Marguerite had said Noah didn’t really have belongings, but
was there a place here he might leave a book or two, his few clothes draped on
a chair? Pocket change on the dresser. Or, given that he gave Lyda his
earnings, maybe not that.

She wouldn’t know unless she talked to Lyda. Gen sighed.
Maybe she
could
figure out how to hotwire a car.

On that dubious thought, she left the house. Two cats, a
calico female and a fluffy black male, curled up in the sunlight warming the
concrete stepping stones. They gave her a lazy look, not the least concerned by
a stranger possibly stepping on them. It suggested they were used to comings
and goings on the property. By customers, she hoped.

In the tidy box she’d put this incredible week, she’d
imagine she’d been as special an event to Lyda and Noah as they had been to
her. But she was mature enough to know that would be part of the fantasy.

Bending down, she petted both felines. Maybe she’d move the
cat adoption up on her timetable. It would be fun to have a cat playing with
the scraps of paper in her craft room, falling asleep on the table, keeping her
company.

The cats were affectionate, well-fed, healthy. Very likely
spayed and neutered, otherwise the female would show signs of repeated
pregnancy. Good. Nothing could disrupt her fantasy as quickly as finding Lyda
was an indifferent or irresponsible pet parent. She thought about the kind of
control Lyda held over the people around her and imagined all that going down
the drain when it came to her cats. Did they jump up on her desk, shred paper
despite her chastising? Make her laugh as they raced around the house, ignoring
stern reproofs about wild behavior? She’d like to see that.

The woman was so self contained. How much could Gen invest
in someone she knew so little about? How much of herself would she risk? She’d
risked a lot last night.

At this rate, she’d be confronting Lyda for her car keys
three days from now. Bidding the cats a reluctant farewell, she followed the
gravel drive around the back of the house, back to the nursery. Since it was
Sunday, the business was closed, no chance of customers or employees providing
a buffer. Gen looked into the open greenhouses. Automatic misters were watering
an array of plants, washing humid greenhouse air over her skin. Maybe that was
why Lyda’s skin was so lovely.

She located Lyda behind the third greenhouse, in front of a
field of young saplings. She was wrapping the root balls of a dozen young crepe
myrtle trees in burlap. They were probably being transported to new homes
tomorrow.

As Gen moved toward her, Lyda’s head lifted. In that one
sweeping glance, Gen felt everything that had happened last night anew,
including those several screaming orgasms. Lyda’s gaze covered the way her
T-shirt clung to Gen’s body, then rose to her face, as if evaluating everything
about her state of mind before one word was spoken.

When Gen’s attention slid to the right, finding it hard to
meet that stare, she discovered Noah taking a nap on a lush square of grass
about thirty feet away. He wore jeans and a nursery T-shirt, stretched
attractively over his shoulders and chest. He slept on his side, folded arm
pillowing his head.

“Midmorning break?” Gen asked low, nodding toward him.

Lyda glanced his way. “He’s already put in a good four hours
this morning, digging up this stock. As well as making you breakfast and
cleaning your clothes. He sleeps better in the daylight, so I make him take a
nap midmorning. Else he gets cranky in the afternoon and I have to spank him.”

Despite the humor—she assumed it was humor—Gen felt a pang
of horror. “He didn’t need to do all that. I’m sorry. You should have woken
me.”

“You’re not my employee. Or my committed sub. He is. If I’d
wanted you awake, Gen, I would have woken you.”

Gen had plenty of bland, polite things to say, but Lyda’s
directness drove everything away but the thing uppermost in her mind. “I have
no clue how to process what happened last night.”

Lyda dropped to her haunches, wiped her brow. She had her
hair pulled in a tail through the back of the bill cap. The brim shadowed her
eyes, enhancing the dark lashes. “How do you want to process it, Gen? An
adventure, a one-time event?”

As Gen shifted, Lyda nodded. “It’s fine to rationalize it
that way, if that’s all you want. It’s more comfortable that way, to bring
closure to it. Right?”

“Yes. I guess. I mean, do you…” Gen trailed off. “It was an
amazing night. Very different from what I’m used to. Thank you.”

Could she sound more stiff and stupid? Maybe if she broke
into song and tried a cartwheel.

“You were a pleasure to command. You should let that side of
yourself rise to the top more often.”

“I don’t know if I’m that way, really. Like you said, I
guess all of us have some of it in us, and with the right triggers… Someone
like you would bring it out of a person, no matter how dormant.”

As Gen spoke, Lyda pulled off a work glove. She gripped
Gen’s leg above the knee, beneath the hem of the short skirt. “Why are you
standing above me, Gen?”

Her hand was slightly damp from the perspiration of her
efforts. Gen’s knee trembled under that touch. But it wasn’t like last night.
There was too much reality around them. She backed away a couple steps. Lyda
put the glove back on, but gave Gen a frank look.

“Do you want more, Gen? Because you can have more. I’m
willing to explore that.”

Explore her submission? A relationship? “I don’t know. I
need to go home and think about it.”

“A cautious approach isn’t a bad idea. Just don’t paralyze
yourself with it. If this is something you want, you say how much or how
little. You’re in control of your own participation.”

Again that emphasis on choice. But Gen hadn’t expected Lyda
to be willing to choose more time with
her
. “What do you want…I mean, do
you…”

Do you really like me?
It sounded so juvenile to ask
it that way. But she hadn’t anticipated falling short on a mature way to voice
her innermost feelings about this. Maybe she could come at it from a new angle.

“You said last night I could try it from different sides.
How I was with Noah that weekend…what if I wanted to be more…assertive with
that?”

“Like try on the Domme hat? Where you exercise full
control?” Lyda’s expression was neutral, but Gen wondered if she was laughing
at her. The rabbit wanting to be a wolf. She lifted her chin.

“Maybe.”

“Hmm.” Lyda pursed her lips. “We’ll be back at The Zone
Wednesday night. Can you join us? If you want to use me as a mentor, I’ll walk
you through some of the basics. Or I can introduce you to a club Domme, if you
want a more neutral party.”

Just like that. As if it wasn’t a momentous decision, an
explorer declaring her brave intent to seek new lands. “Would I be practicing
on him?” Gen glanced at Noah.

“I’m sure he’d be happy to help you in that regard, with my
permission, which I would certainly grant. But we’ll see what you think once
you’re there. There are always more subs than Doms. You needn’t limit your
experience.”

Gen pressed her lips together. “Are you hoping I’ll fall on
my face and prove that I’m really a submissive, because that’s what you want me
to be?”

Lyda’s eyes frosted. “That’s rude, Gen.”

“Is it true, though?” She wasn’t overwhelmed by her hormones
now. She wasn’t begging for punishment with her ass in the air or writhing in
ecstasy beneath Lyda. What had happened last night, that didn’t completely
define her, as it seemed to define Noah. She needed to make that clear. Lyda
wasn’t Gen’s Mistress. She had the right to be rude if she thought she was
being patronized.

When Lyda said nothing, just continued to regard her, Gen
thanked God for her interactions with Marguerite. As intimidating as Lyda’s
gaze was, a damn Supreme Court judge couldn’t top Marguerite’s pale-blue stare.
Lyda’s intimidation factor was close, though, especially since Gen had never
made herself vulnerable to Marguerite as a lover. She literally dug the heels
of the sneakers into the earth to hold fast.

“What is it you’re really seeking here, Gen?” Lyda asked. “I
don’t think you’re trying to pick a fight, but you want something that’s
causing you to provoke one.”

“I know nothing about you,” Gen pointed out. “If last night
was
just a carnival ride, then that’s fine. I don’t need to know anything more
about you than the guy who pushes the lever of the Ferris wheel. And if that’s
it, then that’s it. I go home, and I see you and Noah now and then when your
paths cross Marguerite’s, and I remember last night with this fond sort of
disbelief. Maybe it was how little I knew about you that made last night
possible, the intimacy-of-strangers kind of thing.”

As Lyda remained silent, bottled emotions surged forth,
surprising Gen with their strength. “I don’t know what I want, Lyda,” she
blurted. “Any relationship scares me, because the plain truth is I make bad
choices when it comes to all that. Maybe you’ll think I’m silly and
unsophisticated, but it’s also all too intense, too emotional, for me to treat
it like a carnival ride. If you tell me you want it to be more than that, maybe
I’ll find the courage to come back for another ride. But if the ride is all
you’re going to give me of yourself, I probably can’t do it. There’s a way
about you…I could turn into some kind of puppy, craving every scrap you throw
my way. I have enough self-respect to make the choice to stay away. I can sew
up any holes you put in me last night and pretend they never happened.”

She hadn’t meant to go off like that. But every word was the
God’s honest truth. It had been a really long time since she’d made herself as
vulnerable as she’d made herself last night. Lyda’s charisma and personality
tempted Gen to crack herself open like an egg and let it all spill out before
her. She couldn’t risk a deeper relationship on such unequal footing.

Lyda still hadn’t said anything. Gen swallowed. Okay, ask
for the car key, call it done. God, she was one of those crazy people who
changed their social media status after one date. Lyda would be glad to be rid
of her. She’d order Noah to avoid Gen like a plague.

“I’m not a soft woman, Gen. I don’t do nurturing, unless
ordering a man to take a nap counts.”

Lyda’s expression softened then, enough to ease the fist
around Gen’s chest a little. She even gave her a smile, helping Gen manage a
tentative one in return. “I don’t really know why. Over the years, I’ve found
out
why
isn’t always that important. But I’ll give you the answer you’re
seeking. Yes. I’m interested in exploring more with you.”

“All right.” Gen tried to steady her heart rate. She wanted
to match Lyda’s apparent calm now. “Can I ask you a couple questions about
yourself? Is that okay?”

“We’ll see.” Lyda shifted her squatting position so she had
one knee bent and her denim-clad butt braced on the heel of her work shoe, her
forearm propped on the bent knee. Gen’s thigh muscles would have been screaming
by now. “Go for it.”

“Do you have family in the area?”

“No. I pushed them away in college, and never really found
my way back. I have four siblings who’ve provided grandchildren. I’m not
missed.”

She didn’t see any regrets in Lyda’s face, but the woman
could compete with a sphinx. “You don’t have any pictures of them.”

“I do. In photo albums, and on my computer. I entertain in
my home. I don’t care to share parts of myself I don’t wish to discuss.”

“Entertain…as in like last night?”

Lyda’s expression flickered. “It’s a little early for you to
become possessive, Gen. Though I think I like that you’re feeling it.”

Gen flushed. The interested glitter in Lyda’s eyes only
deepened it. She shifted to the sleeping Noah, a safer topic. “You called him a
lost soul. Can you explain?”

“Noah is too difficult to explain with words. You’ll
understand if you spend more time with him.”

Similar to what Chloe and M had implied. Interesting. “Will
he break my heart if I care too much about him?”

The woman gave her a sharp glance. It was a pretty deep
question, but it seemed the best way to target the sadness she’d seen in Lyda’s
gaze last night.