by Megan Hart
“I’ll walk you out, if that’s okay. Make sure you get to your car,” he said.
She neither agreed nor disagreed. She turned toward him when they reached her car. She held out her hand. When he took it, she tugged him so he took a step closer to her, bending.
He wanted to kiss her but didn’t dare. Instead, he let his gaze travel over her mouth. He didn’t let go of her hand. A brief struggle of emotion played over her expression before she gave her head the barest shake and stepped back, letting go of his hand.
“I think,” she said, “that you and I are going to be very good friends.”
“I hope so,” Eric said.
“Perhaps I’ll see you next week,” she said. “Goodnight.”
Seven
Backyard barbecues were such a thoroughly American sort of party, and Madeline adored them. She’d grown up in a home much like the one Alex and Olivia shared, a ranch house with a nice back yard shaded with trees and a picnic table. They had moved to England to be closer to her maternal grandparents when Madeline was thirteen. She’d gone to Tokyo with her mother and father when she was seventeen. After that, she’d been married. She and Izumi had hosted many parties, most lavish and elaborate, and not a one of them as much fun as a barbecue.
“Hello, gorgeous.” Alex greeted her as she entered the back yard through the wooden gate. He wore an apron on which a huge-breasted and bikini-clad form had been printed and waved a pair of grill tongs at her. “You’re late.”
“I was icing your cake.” She held the plastic container aloft. “You did request dessert.”
Alex’s wife, her dark hair wound in small braids and pulled into a topknot, held up a platter of cut fruit she’d been carrying from the kitchen. “Madeline! Hi. C’mon with me, you can put that over here.”
“Kiss first,” Alex said.
Madeline laughed and offered her cheek to Olivia. “Certainly.”
“I meant me,” he said with a frown that made both women laugh.
Olivia kissed his mouth, holding the platter between them. “Let her get a drink first, at least.”
He pointed at Madeline with the tongs. “Fine. Bring me a beer, baby, would you?”
“It would be my greatest pleasure. What I live for, really.” Olivia tossed this over her shoulder as she led Madeline toward a folding table covered with a festive cloth set up near the small fish pond. She grinned at Madeline. “He’s something, isn’t he?”
Madeline settled the cake next to the other plates of dessert. “He is.”
Olivia gave him a fond look as she put down her fruit and bent to dig through a cooler of ice to pull up a bottle of beer. “I’m so glad you made it. I kept telling Alex to invite you over for dinner, but with my work schedule I haven’t had a weekend off in forever. The trials of working for myself, I guess.”
Olivia had her own photography studio and gallery. Madeline had seen lots of Olivia’s work. Alex was a very, very proud husband and liked to show her off.
“Alex mentioned you were trying to get away from doing weddings.” Madeline accepted the bottle of beer Olivia handed her.
“Yeah. I want to do more portraits, more stuff for myself…weddings pay the bills and get your name out there, but honestly, they are so much work.” Olivia sighed and cracked the cap of her bottle and sipped. “…Madeline?”
She’d been working at getting the top off her own bottle when she looked across the yard to see Alex talking with a familiar man. Tall. Lean. Shaggy dark hair.
Eric.
“How do you know him?” Madeline tipped the bottle toward him.
Olivia turned. “He’s one of Alex’s friends. I think they met at the gym. Why?”
“I know him, that’s all.”
Olivia made a small noise, and Madeline looked at her. The other woman gave her a wry grin. “That explains it. He told me he was inviting Eric on purpose. I guess…for you?”
“Your husband needs a good spanking,” Madeline said with a frown and drank some beer. It was crisp, cold, clean and good, but it wasn’t going to chase away the sourness on her tongue at the idea that her friend had set her up this way.
Olivia laughed. “Don’t I know it. I’d say he does, too. If I’d known it was going to upset you, I wouldn’t have let him do it.”
“I’m not upset. Just…” Madeline shook her head. “It’s just going to be a bit awkward, that’s all.”
As she spoke, she saw Eric turning in her direction. He’d spotted her. She couldn’t escape now. He was heading toward her.
“Hi there. Olivia. Hey.” He nodded toward Alex’s wife, who wisely took her beer and one for her husband and left Madeline and Eric alone. He gave Madeline his full attention and a slow, easy grin hotter than the sun overhead. “Fancy meeting you here.”
“Fancy, indeed. You know Alex?”
Eric turned for a moment before focusing on her. “Yeah. Met him at the gym. We both used to live in the same area for a while, back in Pennsylvania.”
“Small world,” she told him. “What a convenient coincidence.”
He lifted his beer bottle toward her, waiting until she’d clinked hers to it before sipping. “Must be fate.”
“Must be,” she said carelessly, casually, even though the idea of fate meant a lot to her and always had. She sipped her own beer, relishing the flavor of it. The scent of grilled meat had her stomach rumbling.
She was suddenly very glad she’d accepted Alex’s invitation to this party.
“How did you know we knew each other?” Eric asked Alex over thick slabs of chocolate cake that were topping off the burgers, dogs and chicken they’d already stuffed into their faces. “Me and Madeline, I mean.”
“She mentioned you a few weeks ago, and I thought, how weird would it be if the tall, dark and handsome ER doc named Eric that she’d met was the same dude who worked out so hard at the gym? I mean, what are the chances, right?” Alex had lowered his voice to answer Eric’s question, but now grinned. “I figured that even if you weren’t the same guy, you still might like meeting each other. And if you don’t…well. How could you not like her? She’s amazing.”
Eric didn’t try to deny the thrill that went through him at Alex’s answer. “She is. So…she mentioned me, huh?”
“Yeah. But you don’t tell her I told you. Hey, Sassy, what’s up?” Alex interrupted himself to greet the woman who’d just joined them, a plate of cake in one hand. He nodded toward Alex. “Eric, this is my wife’s best friend. Sarah. Sassy, if you get to know her well enough.”
“I’m Sarah,” she said and shook his hand, rolling her eyes a little at Alex. “I told you, I’m trying to grow out of being Sassy.”
“You should never grow out of being Sassy,” Alex told her.
“I just came to say that we’re going inside to play Cards Against Humanity. You want to come?”
Alex nodded. “Yeah. I’ll be in.”
Eric had glimpsed Madeline inside the kitchen through the sliding glass doors, but she’d just come out onto the deck and was looking around the yard. Looking for him? They’d spent most of the afternoon talking, but she’d gone inside a while back to use the bathroom and hadn’t come back out. She spotted him and smiled, heading that way.
“Yeah, in a minute,” he said.
Alex saw her and slung an arm around Sassy’s shoulder. “C’mon. Let’s go in.”
“Watch the cake,” she protested, but the pair of them were already heading off by the time Madeline showed up in front of Eric.
“I got waylaid inside. Sorry. Someone wanted to talk to me about their trip to Tokyo. Restaurant recommendations, that sort of thing. And to practice their Japanese.”
“You speak Japanese,” he said.
She looked amused. “Well…yes. I lived in Tokyo for years. And my father is Japanese.”
“Why do I think there’s so much of a story there, waiting to be told?”
She looked surprised, then taken aback. Then wary. He hated the sight of that shutter
ed expression.
“Everyone has a story, I suppose,” Madeline said.
“Sorry. I shouldn’t pry.”
She shook her head. Something beyond his shoulder caught her gaze. She smiled. “Sit with me there?”
She meant the wooden swing set up beneath a shade tree. It had been occupied for most of the afternoon, but now they were the only ones in the yard. The other dozen or so guests had gone inside, or gone home. She and Eric took their seats, their thighs touching. Her toes barely touched the ground, and she laughed when he used his much longer legs to get the swing moving.
“How long have you known Alex?” Eric asked.
Madeline made a small noise. “Hmm. A long time, now. Years and years. We lived together for a year or so.”
It was Eric’s turn to make a noise, and Madeline laughed. When he turned to look at her, she shook her head. The laughter faded but left her eyes gleaming with humor.
“We weren’t lovers,” she said.
The idea of Madeline being with Alex, or any other man, had immediately made Eric grumpy. Her laughter didn’t help. He frowned, aware he had no right to be jealous.
“He needed a place to stay. I was recently divorced and had the space. We’d been acquaintances but became great friends. Sometimes, the universe brings you exactly what you need in just the right time.” She shrugged, looking a little sad but making an obvious effort at pushing away the emotion. Her smile returned. “At any rate, he’s a bit of a troublemaker, but so charming you can hardly hold it against him.”
Eric huffed. “Uh huh.”
“Ooh, sour.” She linked her arm through his and rested her head on his shoulder as she squeezed his bicep.
They rocked in silence for a bit. The night air had cooled considerably from the late afternoon heat. The scent of burgers and hot dogs still lingered. Fireflies had begun their flashing.
“Did you masturbate last night after you went home?” Her soft words took him off guard.
Eric coughed lightly, taken by surprise. It occurred to him that he could lie, but he didn’t. “Yes.”
“Mmmm.” She squeezed his arm again. “How was it?”
He thought to the night before. His cock in his fist. Hard. Aching. He’d left the club so aroused it hadn’t taken him long to come once he’d gotten into the shower.
“Fast,” he said.
She looked up at him, a crease between her eyebrows. “You sound disappointed.”
“It was a maintenance orgasm,” Eric said.
Her eyebrows rose. “I see.”
“Got the job done. Released the immediate pressure,” he explained.
“I understand.” She moved her hand down to take his hand, turning it over to expose his wrist, his palm facing upward. She traced a circle on it with her fingertip.
He shivered at the gentle, electric touch and gritted his teeth to keep an embarrassing noise from slipping out of him. Madeline dug her nails into his skin. Hard. Deep.
Eric gasped.
“Mmm,” she said again. “Are you getting hard for me, Eric?”
“Yes, Ma’am.” It slipped out of him, unintentional.
Her nails dug deeper. “I didn’t say you could call me that.”
“I’m sorry. Yes, Madeline. Yes, I’m getting hard for you.” He swallowed past the thickness in his throat. His cock pressed against his zipper.
She let go of his wrist. Small crescents marked his skin. She hadn’t drawn blood, but he almost wished she had.
“Last night was lovely. It’s been quite some time since I was able to play that way. I had not forgotten how much I missed it, but I was reminded very strongly how long it had been. How much I want that sort of interaction in my life.” She drifted a fingertip over the marks she’d left. “You’re single?”
“Yes.”
“Look at me.”
He did, holding his breath. Hoping she would touch him again. Hoping that when she did, it was going to hurt.
“Playing in the club is fine, but I think I would like to enjoy you in a more private way. Would you like that?”
He laughed sharply as he let out his breath. “I would love that, Madeline. I’ve wanted that since that first night.”
The sliding glass door to the deck opened and a dark silhouette looked out. Party sounds drifted to them. The figure gestured and called out for them to come inside.
Madeline stood gracefully, turning to offer Eric her hand. “We should be sociable.”
“I don’t really want to. I’d rather stay out here with you.” He stood, but reluctantly.
“If you’re patient, and a very good boy,” she told him with a sly smile, “you can come home with me, instead.”
Eight
It had tickled her to force them both to stay at Alex and Olivia’s house an hour well past the time she’d have gone home on her own without Eric. He’d been so twitchy, so clearly eager to get out of there. It was flattering, and more than that, denying him something he wanted was also sexy as hell. Shortly after they’d arrived at her small home and she’d poured them both glasses of chilled white wine, she told him so.
“Denial,” she said and took a seat in the rocking chair across from his on the sofa. “How do you feel about it?”
Eric leaned back, one long arm spread along the back of the cushions. “Not a fan, if I have to be honest.”
“I daresay you do. I expect us both to be honest.” The cool wine slipped down her throat and warmed her belly.
“I didn’t mean that I’d lie,” Eric said with a frown and inched to sit forward on the edge of the sofa with his wine glass now cradled into both hands. They were so large they dwarfed the glass.
Admiring those big hands and long fingers, Madeline set her glass on the coffee table between them. “Good. I think it’s best to begin as we mean to go on, don’t you?”
“Absolutely.” He set his glass down, too, but harder than she had. Wine splashed.
“If you were mine,” she said, her voice calm but her insides on fire with a sudden rush of arousal, “you’d be disciplined for that mess.”
She watched him for any hint that her words were too strong, too harsh. Too…anything. Eric, though, only parted his lips on a silent sigh.
Madeline clapped her hands lightly together before passing him a tissue from a box near her so he could blot the small damp spots. “However, you are not mine, so we’ll simply continue talking.”
“What kind of discipline?”
Ah. Yes. Oh, yes, she thought with almost a purr of satisfaction. More warmth flooded upward, this tinged with relief. Gratitude. They were going to get on nicely.
“Do you like discipline, Eric?” She deliberately chose not to answer his question.
“I do. Sometimes. It depends on what it’s for and how it’s given. If I need it, yes. I like it.”
She took that in. “I like denial. I like requesting service, the purposeful putting off of pleasure at my whim. I also adore giving pleasure. I enjoy that control, making my partner lose his mind. I love that. I don’t care for long-term chastity, if that’s your concern.”
Eric shifted. “That sounds good to me. I mean…I like anticipation. And being teased. But I don’t really like or want long-term chastity or anything like that, either. I don’t want to be denied all the time.”
“You’ve tried it?”
“Yeah. A bit,” he said with a small nod. “When I first started figuring out I liked to be topped, I met a woman who insisted on owning my cock right off the bat.”
Madeline pondered that. “And you allowed it?”
“I thought it was hot,” he replied, clearly a confession. “I thought it was what I wanted.”
“To be owned.”
“Yes.” Eric met her gaze without hesitation. “I thought I wanted that.”
“So you allowed her to take control of your cock? Were you in a relationship with her?”
“I thought so. Turns out she didn’t think the same of me. She was very into text
ing and phone sex and that sort of thing, and when I started to get suspicious that she really didn’t want to spend time with me other than that, I found out I was just one of many. By that time, she’d already been demanding that I lock up my cock for her. Not come for weeks at a time. That sort of thing. It might have been easier if we’d been together, if I could have had something other than the denial from her.” He shrugged and drank some wine, then set down his glass again. Gently, this time, so not a single drop escaped the glass.
“It might have been,” she answered thoughtfully. “And then?”
He looked surprised. “And then…I found out she was just playing with me, and I broke it off. After that I had something even more distant, but again, I only thought I wanted it. I didn’t know anything, really, about this whole dom/sub thing beyond what I’d watched in porn. So I found a pro.”
“You hired someone?” She couldn’t keep the shock from her voice, or the fresh wave of arousal circulating through her at the idea of that.
“Yeah. No physical contact. She umm…” He coughed into his fist, looking adorably embarrassed. “Just left me lists.”
“Lists. Oh, my. I do like lists. Tell me more.”
“Lists of tasks. Chores. I’d decided I needed discipline, you know? Because I’d found the denial difficult with the first woman, I thought it was because I needed to work on myself.” He leaned back against the sofa again.
Madeline used her toes to rock herself gently. “What did you discover?”
“Well.” His embarrassed grin broadened, becoming confident and sexy. “I like lists.”
They both laughed.
“Delightful. I should think that you did not enjoy being denied your orgasms with your first partner because you got nothing to replace them. No affection or praise or anything else. You had no reason to desire to please her with your sacrifice, because you were left unfulfilled. Perhaps it was not so much the lack of being able to come as it was your lack of being cared for,” Madeline said thoughtfully.