by M. S. Parker
“I got eight,” the kid said. “But the old guy should be able to make up the difference, right?”
Old?
“Five against eight sounds fair to me,” Paige spoke up. She pulled her hair back from her face and called over to Candra, “Hey, let me borrow your shoes.”
“You’re gonna play soccer?” It was hard to say who was more skeptical, Tyler, or the smart-mouthed teenager leering at Paige.
She grinned at the older kid as she swapped out her dress shoes for a pair of sneakers. “No, I’m going to kick your ass at soccer.”
I stared at her while the kids started shouting out positions to the others on the team. She stood up and caught me with my mouth hanging open like an idiot.
“What?”
“I just – I mean…” I stammered, “shit. I’m just surprised is all.”
“That makes two of us,” she said. The moment stretched out, then broke as she bent over to stretch. “You better be good at this, Union. I don’t want to have to explain to the journalists over there why you’re disappointing the kids.”
I glanced toward the front doors, seeing the crowd for the first time. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to be annoyed that Paige had called them here, or proud that she’d believed in me enough to bring in the media without really knowing how things were going to go, but either way I was now terrified. Partly because I knew if I made the smallest mistake, that’s all anyone would focus on, but also because I didn’t want to disappoint the kids. More than that, I didn’t want to disappoint Paige.
Fourteen
Paige
I hadn’t played soccer since intermural my sophomore year of college, but even with work, I’d managed to stay in shape. Reb, however, had spent the last few months drinking more than exercising, and while his body still looked fit as hell, he definitely wasn’t a soccer player.
I sent the ball over to Mags with a neat little kick, then watched as she sent it sailing right into the make-shift goal.
“Yes!” She threw her hands into the air.
“Nice shot!” I held up my hand, and she slapped hers against it. “You’re a natural.”
She flushed, her eyes darting toward Reb. I didn’t have to know her well to know that she had a crush on my musician.
No. No, not my musician. Reb wasn’t mine.
And he sure as hell wasn’t the reason why my face was suddenly hotter than it had been from physical exertion alone.
“Ringer,” Reb said as he stopped behind me. He bent over, putting his hands on his knees. “You’ve played before.”
“A little,” I admitted with a grin. “Well, maybe more than a little.”
“I’m glad you’re on my side.” He straightened, lifting his shirt to wipe the sweat from his face.
I tried not to stare at his stomach, and I definitely tried not to think about running my tongue over every one of those ridges.
I jumped a little when a whistle blew, and we looked over to see a large man waving the kids in for whatever was next on their schedule, his dark mocha skin gleaming with sweat.
“We have to go,” Tyler said. “But this was the most fun I’ve ever had here.”
Reb fist bumped him. “I had fun too.” As the kids ran off, he added, “But I have a feeling it’s going to come back to bite me in the ass in the morning.”
“Why’s that?” I asked as I waved a goodbye to Mags and Larry. “I think this is going to play well in the press.”
“That’s not what I meant,” Reb said. He put his hands on the small of his back and leaned back, groaning as he stretched.
My stomach twisted, and I wondered if he made that sound during sex. “What did you mean then?” I asked, hoping to get my mind off of sex and Reb. That would end nowhere good.
“I’m a bit more out of shape than I realized.” He leaned to the left, grimacing as those muscles engaged. “I’m going to be stiff tomorrow.”
The comment was innocuous enough, but I still couldn’t stop my mind from changing it into something dirty.
Dammit.
“Hey, what are you doing tonight?”
I frowned as I looked over at him. “I didn’t have anything scheduled for you, if that’s what you’re asking.”
“It’s not.” He came over to stand in front of me. “I want to know what you’re doing tonight.”
“That’s a bad idea,” I said, shaking my head. “Whatever it is you’re thinking, it’s a bad idea.”
“Really?” He gave me that grin again, like he knew that alone could make me wet. Then again, with as many women as he’d been with, he probably knew exactly what that smile did.
“Reb, you’re my client. This is my job.”
“And you promised me a reward if I behaved myself today,” he reminded me.
“I did not.” I scowled at him. “You said reward. I said–”
“That you’d make sure I ‘got something for my troubles.’”
Shit.
I released a long breath. “Look, Reb–”
He held up a hand. “A friend of mine is having an art show. He’s a photographer. My friends and I always go to showings and openings and all that, but this year, they have girlfriends. Well, one’s married. Still hard to get used to…shit. Look, do you want to come with me?”
I almost laughed at the rambling, but he looked so earnest. Nothing like the drunk guy I first met. He’d gone from heated innuendo to a near-childlike eagerness, and I couldn’t bring myself to treat him the same way I would have if he’d been drunk or lecherous.
“I suppose that would be okay,” I said slowly. Spending time with him outside of work wasn’t exactly professional, but going to some photography gallery was a lot better than any of the ‘rewards’ I’d been thinking he’d want.
“Don’t sound so thrilled,” Reb said wryly. “If you don’t want to go–”
“I do,” I cut him off. “I do.”
His expression softened, and he reached out his hand. For a moment, I thought he was going to kiss me again, but instead, he plucked a leaf from my hair. “I’ll pick you up at six.”
I was going to tell him that I’d meet him at the gallery, but he walked away before I could say anything, leaving me with no choice but to stare at his ass as he went.
Really. No choice.
Reb hadn’t given me a dress code, but I’d done a quick internet search for photography shows and found only one happening in the area tonight. It was for a photographer named Alix Wexler. Everything I saw told me this was black tie. Fortunately, the little black dress I’d worn for my college graduation a few months ago would work.
A part of me still felt underdressed as I walked into the gallery, my arm linked with Reb’s. The faces I recognized here were some of the tops in their fields.
Dinah Weston was a prominent prosecutor who’d taken down a whole precinct of corrupt cops.
Stanley and Patty Driver owned some of the most prominent racehorses in the country, including three Kentucky Derby champions and two Breeders’ Cup champions.
Erik Sanders was one of the wealthiest men under thirty in the city, and if the gossip columns I’d recently read were accurate, the beautiful blonde on his arm was Tanya Lacey, an employee of Branch Publishing and the woman responsible for an upcoming release that was getting rave reviews.
And we were walking right toward them.
Shit.
“Erik, Tanya,” Reb greeted them both with a familiarity that said they knew each other from more than just a passing greeting at fundraisers.
Were they two of his friends?
Fuck.
Working for a large PR firm in a city like New York, I’d always expected to rub elbows with some of the upper crust, but it was one thing to meet them under professional circumstances, and something else altogether to be on the arm of someone like Reb, especially since it looked like we were anything other than working together.
“This is Paige Ryce,” Reb said. “Paige, meet Erik Sanders and Tanya Lacey.”
I held out a hand before either of them could initiate another type of greeting. I didn’t know if they were huggers, but I did know that I didn’t want to make things more awkward than they already were. Which, in hindsight, probably meant that I shouldn’t have tried to shake their hands since they both looked like they were trying to hold back amusement that seemed to be directed more at Reb than me.
“Paige is the PR rep I told you about,” Reb said. “She’s amazing.”
I couldn’t stop a blush, and it only got worse when Erik raised an eyebrow, a questioning look in his bright blue eyes. Before I could decide whether or not I wanted him to say something, a handsome blond man approached. On his arm was a delicately beautiful woman who appeared to feel as out of place as I did.
“Reb.” The man clasped Reb’s hand and gave one of those half-hugs that only some men could pull off.
“Paige, this is Jace Randell and Savannah Birch.”
I wasn’t really into the art world, but even I had heard of Jace Randell, especially since rumor had it that he’d found a muse who inspired his newest series, sculptures rather than paintings. Sybil had tried to get tickets to the opening night of his show, but there’d been none to spare.
“Nice to meet you,” Savannah said with a smile.
“You too.” I glanced up at the guys who’d begun one of those conversations that came out of mutual experiences. “How do they all know each other?”
Tanya answered, “Reb and Erik met at Columbia. They were roommates until Reb left. Alix – the one whose show this is – is Erik’s cousin.”
“And Jace?”
The women exchanged looks, their cheeks flushing.
“They met at a club,” Savannah said.
It sounded simple enough, but something in her light gray eyes made me think there was more to that statement than she was letting on. I wasn’t about to press the issue though.
“There’s the man of the hour.” Erik’s voice cut through our conversation as a dark-haired man who shared Erik’s muscular build and chiseled jaw came toward us. He had to be Erik’s cousin, and the photographer, Alix Wexler. I didn’t know, however, who the tiny redhead tucked beneath his arm was.
“You look amazing,” Savannah said as she hugged the newcomer. “Paige, this is Sine, Alix’s wife. Sine, this is Paige Ryce. She’s here with Reb.”
“Lovely to meet you,” Sine said with a smile.
“Likewise.” I couldn’t help but smile back. Between the orange-red curls, freckles, and Irish accent, I didn’t imagine there were many people she couldn’t charm.
“Is the morning sickness getting any better?” Tanya asked, sounding for all the world like a worried mother though I doubted there was much age difference between her and Sine.
Sine nodded. “Mam sent me a few local remedies that she swore by with my brothers and me and they’ve done the trick.”
“And your doctor said it’s safe for you to travel at the end of the month?”
Savannah sounded as protective of Sine as Tanya. I understood it though. Something about the young woman just brought it out.
“Sine and Alix are going to Ireland for a big wedding,” Savannah explained. “They’ve already had a ceremony here, but Sine’s mom wanted a ceremony in a church.”
“Big Catholic family,” Sine said with a smile. Her hand rested on her stomach in one of those absent gestures most pregnant women seemed to make. “Alix is convinced my father’s going to kill him. Well, him or my brothers.”
“You do have six of them,” Tanya said with a soft laugh. “If Erik knocks me up, at least he doesn’t have to worry about someone coming after him.”
“Yes, he does,” Savannah countered. “Because if he behaves like an ass, he’ll have to deal with Sine and me.”
I’d always been fine with family being just Mom and me, but seeing this group together, I felt a twinge of longing for a bigger family.
“So, Paige, you’re here with Reb?” Tanya turned the conversation to me.
“Not like that,” I quickly said. “I’m his public relations rep.” The trio exchanged knowing looks, and I shook my head. “What?”
Savannah and Sine looked at Tanya, who shrugged. “We’ve all been there.”
“Been where?”
“Thinking that things were just professional between us and our men,” Savannah said. “Tanya and Erik met over a book deal.”
“Savannah’s an art critic who was sent to do a story on Jace,” Sine said.
“And Sine used to be Alix’s assistant,” Tanya finished up.
“Technically, I still am,” Sine said. Her cheeks colored. “Just with a few…perks now.”
We all laughed, but their words kept echoing back in my head as Reb came back to my side. The couples split off to mingle, and Reb led me through the gallery, his hand resting lightly on the small of my back.
“You seemed to be getting along well with the others,” he said as we stopped in front of one of the first photographs.
“I like them,” I said honestly. I didn’t tell him that they thought he and I had more between us than work. They’d figure it out sooner or later, and I didn’t see any reason to make things more awkward.
The picture in front of me was done in black and white, a slender model, nude save a pair of lace panties and a pair of handcuffs hanging from one wrist.
Oh. Okay.
The next photograph had the model from the neck down, a strip of silk across her breasts bringing the only color to the piece, a bright green that stood out starkly against the background.
“Does this bother you?” Reb asked, pitching his voice low enough that only I could hear it.
“Does what bother me?” I didn’t look at him as I moved to the next picture.
The model was on her stomach again, but her panties were gone. The cut of the shot showed only the beginning swell of her ass, but it was clear she was naked. Her hands were tied together at the small of her back with the same bright cloth that had covered her breasts in the previous picture.
“I didn’t know exactly what Alix’s series was about, but he’d hinted that it was on the erotic side,” Reb said. “I didn’t think to ask if it would bother you.”
I shook my head, willing my face not to betray me. There was no way I could let Reb know that, far from bothering me, the pictures turned me on in a way that was surprising. Not because I was attracted to the model, but because the subject matter touched something primal inside me.
The fourth picture was a close up of the model’s mouth, lips cherry red around a ball gag. The fifth another close-up, but this time of her whole face. She wore a mask, and the gag was gone. The mask was gold, the rest black and white, but the simplicity of it made it stand out all the more. Her eyes were half-closed, her lips parted.
She was coming, I realized with a start. Either he’d hired someone who could fake it with amazing reality…or she’d really been coming. Which made me wonder if she’d done it herself, or if Alix had been the one…shit.
“I don’t think I could do that,” Reb said quietly. “Share my woman with the world.”
My heart gave a funny skipping beat as I realized what he meant. “That’s Sine.”
“You didn’t know?”
I shook my head, unable to tear my eyes from the photo.
“The whole series is her. That’s why they’re in black and white, so no one can see her hair or eye color,” he explained. “Too easy to identify her.”
“She doesn’t seem the type,” I said.
“The type to pose for erotic pictures?” Reb asked. “Or the type to get into BDSM?”
“Both,” I admitted.
“Don’t knock it until you’ve tried it,” he said dryly as he moved to the next picture.
Tried it? The room was suddenly too hot, the air too thick. Was he simply telling me not to think I knew Sine after only a few minutes of conversation…or was he saying something else? Was he saying that this was what he was into? And
that he wanted me to try it with him?
Fuck, fuck, fuck!
What had I gotten myself into?
And why did the idea of exploring these new, primal feelings appeal to me so much?
Fifteen
Reb
Alix had told us that his series of pictures explored the juxtaposition between innocence and the erotic nature of BDSM, and that Sine had been his model, but, of course, I’d never even thought to tell Paige. Even if I had, I wasn’t sure I would’ve been able to do it. Not after how things had gone with Mitzi.
If I was going to be completely honest with myself, I’d been caught between anticipation and anxiety from the moment I’d invited Paige to come with me. But then we were in the limo, and it was too late to change my mind. A part of me was grateful that the decision was no longer mine to make.
My friends had been polite to Paige, but as soon as she’d started talking to the other women, the guys had turned on me with smug smiles. I’d tried to blow them off, tell them that she was an employee of sorts, nothing more. Then they’d reminded me that Tanya, Sine, and Savannah had all started in similar ways. I’d told them they were crazy.
Now, as we reached the end of the series, I was beginning to think they were right. With every new picture, the tension between the two of us grew. Neither of us had said anything since those first few portraits, but she studied each new one we came to. The one with the flogger resting on the small of Sine’s back. The one where the only color was the pink handprints on her ass.
Alix really had found his muse with Sine. I’d been skeptical of her, both before she left, and even more when she’d come back, but I could see it now. How good the two of them were together.
I’d meant what I said to Paige though. I didn’t understand how Alix could display the pictures for the world to see. Then again, just because we were both Doms didn’t mean the same things got us off. For example, exhibitionism wasn’t my thing, but it apparently got things going for Alix and Sine.
I hoped he knew how lucky he was to have found someone like her. Not that I found her attractive beyond aesthetic appreciation. I didn’t envy him the girl, but I did envy what they had. The freedom to be who he wanted to be, to want what he wanted and not be judged for it.