Playing the Game (15 page)

“How so, sweet girl?” His fingers strayed to her side, gliding up and down over her ribcage, and the movement of his arm shifted her breasts with it.

“The blindfold. I didn’t know it would be so intense. So different from just closing my eyes.” She shivered, though not from a chill. “And your voice. It was…it was everything.”

“Everything, Alice?”

She shivered again, because his voice was low and teasing and right there beside her ear, his lips brushing her skin. “You’re doing that on purpose.”

“I am, yes. Do you want to ask me to stop?”

Maybe it was the privacy of the blindfold, or the surreal nature of the whole night, or the safe feeling she had in his arms. Whatever the reason, she didn’t stop to think.

“I don’t think so,” she murmured. “I can’t imagine ever asking you to stop.” She flushed and tried to backtrack. “I mean–”

“I think you’ve already said what you mean, Alice, and that’s as it should be. You needn’t censor your initial reactions, and you needn’t be embarrassed by them, either. If all goes well, you’ll end each of our nights together with that feeling, which will leave me well satisfied as your dominant.”

She smiled. “You love it when a plan comes together?”

A short, sharp laugh from Henry. “More than you know, my dear. I’m rather fond of the moments when my submissives come together as well.”

She giggled, and he unwrapped his right arm from around her hips.

“Thank you, Jay.” Henry raised his knees, spreading her legs once more.

The warmth of the washcloth between her thighs drew a quiet moan from her throat.

“It seems you’ve been keeping secrets, Alice.”

She sifted through her brain, trying to determine what he meant. “Not that I know of, Henry.”

A kiss on her cheek. A steady hand stroking between her legs, patient and thorough. “I would’ve thought you too young to have watched
The A-Team
.”

She laughed.

Henry raised the blindfold in time for her to see a naked Jay kneel beside them. Lowering his legs, Henry allowed hers to slide closed.

“Syndication.” She couldn’t count the number of times she’d spouted the line along with the actor. It was on the tip of her tongue to blame her dad, the fan, but right now? In the middle–okay, the end–of a sex thing? No matter how relaxed Henry was about the whole dominant thing, she doubted he wanted her bringing up her father on his time. That was one for the friend zone, and this was sex time.

While she watched, Henry bathed Jay as he’d done for her. He laid the washcloth aside on the picnic blanket. “Up you go, my dear. Jay, if you’ll offer a hand, please?”

Jay bounced to his feet and grasped her hands, pulling her to her feet.

She flicked her gaze over the blanket.

Jay snickered. “Told you so.”

“Again?”

Henry rose to stand in front of her, his hands settling on her waist. “And now the two of you are speaking a secret language, I see.”

“You know, Henry…”

“Yes, my dear?”

“My underwear drawer doesn’t have deep pockets.” She smirked at him. “If you’re keeping my panties every night I’m here, you’ll have to start replacing them, too. Unless you want to see white cotton from now on.”

“Or perhaps you’ll show up with none at all, sweet girl.” He kissed her while she was still digesting
that
idea. “Is there anything you wish to discuss before I release you for the night?”

She shook her head. “It was wonderful. Thank you, Henry.” A new thought struck her. “Can I…can I kiss Jay good night, too?”

Henry smiled, a wider grin than usual. “What a lovely suggestion. You may, Alice.”

She found Jay leaning toward her. “I guess you’re okay with that idea, too,” she teased. She didn’t leave him time to answer, kissing him with firm lips and a hint of tongue.

She slipped her sandals on.

Henry walked her to the door, giving her a final kiss and handing over her purse. “Thank you for your trust and attention this evening.” He stroked her back. “If you encounter any difficulties processing events as you reflect further on the experience, bring them to me and we will discuss them together. Am I understood?”

“I understand, Henry.”

“Good girl. Then you are released from our game, Alice.” He stepped back, allowing her to pass him.

A few strides found her at her own door, opening the lock and stepping inside. She closed the door on Henry’s gaze and tossed her things aside. Stripped to her skin and lay on her futon.

Henry and Jay had done all the work. She’d hardly moved. Yet she thought she might sleep for a week.

“Signing that contract might be the best decision you’ve ever made, Allie-girl.”

* * * *

Henry hewed rather close to the scenario he’d given her with the concert during their next three nights together. The evening always started with role-play, something almost romantic, and led to her, blindfolded, having energetic sex with Jay while Henry directed them and made certain she enjoyed herself.

But he didn’t fuck her. Didn’t use his mouth on her. He left those things to Jay.

So even though she grew intimate with the clasp of his body and the scent of his skin and–God yes–the sound of his voice, and even though he’d told her to come to him if she needed him, she avoided asking about his distance. Just because Henry treated her as a lover as part of their arrangement didn’t mean that’s what she was to him.

As long as she kept the distinction firm in her head, she’d be fine. What did she need beyond the exciting-but-safe sex? Nothing, that was what. She had no need to go running to Henry about her confusion. He was available if she had a real problem. Crying to him about every stray thought that passed through her head would abuse his generosity, his willingness to split his attention between his real lover and her.

Besides, Jay seemed to be making some extra effort to maintain their friendship, and he provided comical entertainment at its finest. Every week, not just every other week, his delivery route brought him out near her office complex. Somehow, he always had time to stop for lunch, texting to say he’d be down the street in five and did she want to join him?

So every Tuesday for six weeks, she’d eaten lunch with Jay. During which he talked about anything and everything except the fact that he was fucking her on alternate Fridays. He flirted, though. At least until he’d get a half-panicked look on his face and change the subject.

Maybe Henry had given him a list of acceptable topics.

Henry himself hadn’t approached her outside of their contract nights. But twice now he’d left her gifts with the notes he placed on her door before their nights together. The first, a small metal sculpture of a hibiscus in bloom, graced her desk at work. The second? A box of replacements. Bra and panty sets in six shades.

She wore them when she went to him now.

He did eventually remove all of her clothes. He tormented her with a vibrator while Jay gripped her wrists. He always stopped before she came. That, she only ever did with his fingers inside her, or with Jay’s fingers, or tongue, or cock.

Overall, the arrangement wasn’t so different from her past experiences. Except for the blindfold. The excitement. The satisfaction. The two guys.

Right. Except for all of that. But otherwise? Completely the same.

No whips or chains or that Japanese rope thing that seemed all the rage on the sex blogs she’d studied while reading the contract terms. From her unscientific study, he was pretty lenient for a dominant and taking excellent care of her needs. She considered asking him about the vibe, though, because it felt fantastic. Maybe she’d replace her current favorite.

On the other hand, Henry wielding it made for a fabulous benefits package. He always made sure she was satisfied before he let Jay fuck her. And even then, he stepped in with his voice frequently, with his hands when necessary, to make sure Jay pleased her, too.

He acted almost as if testing her responses. Putting her on a long line and watching her gait. She’d spent plenty of summers on her aunt and uncle’s ranch watching them train up the horses for sale. Henry was taking her measure, seeing if she’d fight the bit, tossing a blanket across her back until she was ready for the saddle–and the rider.

Teaching Jay, too, maybe. Every night they met, Jay grew more attuned to her. Needed less help from Henry to find her rhythms. Maybe Henry meant to pair them. Carriage horses. A matched set.

She laughed at the thought, but it was true, wasn’t it? Henry was the driver, and they were his team. Someday, he’d be holding the whip.

Anticipation made her clench with a whisper of fear and an avalanche of arousal.

Chapter 6

Jay opened the door at her knock, held it wide enough for her to step past him and closed it behind her. He didn’t touch her, and though she smiled at him, he didn’t greet her. Was he already playing?

In the living room, Henry stood and approached her, gesturing for her to remain still. “Alice. Punctual as always. How lovely.”

He didn’t make small talk. His time started now, and on these nights, she was not Alice the neighbor and friend who might need to talk about her day. Such things belonged outside the door.

Anything that demanded responsibility or concern was Henry’s to handle. She needed only to listen and obey. Outside this carefully controlled place, she still squirmed at the thought on occasion. But here, he’d instructed her to accept herself and her desires without shame.

“Are you ready to play, Alice?”

“Yes, Henry.”

“Go to the bedroom. Remove your clothes, all of them. Leave them on the chair. Lie on your back in the center of the bed and wait for me.”

She acknowledged him with a sharp nod and turned down the hall, away from them both. The eager anticipation she’d leashed all day broke free and danced in her muscles. It was permitted here. She was done hiding for the day.

She placed her clothes on the chair and climbed onto the bed. No top sheets, no comforter, no pillows. Just the fitted sheet and a vast expanse she alone couldn’t fill. She lay back and waited, her pulse picking up speed.

Henry almost always made her wait. It made the reward sweeter, he said, and she agreed. Waiting was hard, but it felt very, very good.

A footstep. Her breath caught.

Sweeping into the bedroom, Henry radiated confidence and calm beneath his oh-so-proper attire. The collar flaps on his dress shirt, a purple so deep it flirted with black, stood crisp and buttoned. The shining clasp of his belt taunted her fingers. Dared her to open his pants and see what he refused to give her.

Jay, following, was as naked as she, and half-hard already.

“Stand at the foot of the bed, please, Jay. I’ll call for you when you’re needed.”

As Jay obeyed, Henry strode closer, near the head of the bed to her left. “Tell me your word, Alice.”

“Pistachio.”

“Good. And when will you use your word?”

“Anytime I want things to stop, for any reason.”

“Will I be angry with you if you use your word?”

“No. You’ll be proud of me for recognizing my limits and being honest with you.”

“Correct. Very good, Alice.”

The ritual played out nearly word for word every time. Henry’s way of reassuring her, she supposed. As a tactic, it was effective. She never doubted her ability to stop things. He prompted her himself sometimes, reminded her to use her word if their games skirted the edges of her boundaries. Thus far, she hadn’t needed to.

“We’re playing a new game tonight, Alice.” Bending over, Henry retrieved something from under the mattress. “Extend your left arm toward me, please.”

She did, without hesitation, though he held some kind of strap. Black, with a metal ring at the end and a shorter strap hooked on it with a metal clasp. At the opposite end of the short strap was a wider piece of black fabric, perpendicular to the rest.

He folded the soft, padded fabric up and around her wrist, and she shivered as Velcro closed. A handcuff. Something designed to keep her in place. They hadn’t experimented with bondage, at least not aside from the weight of hands and hips.