by Cara Adams
“We’ll come back and assemble them for you. Your inaugural craft market’s in a bit over a week, isn’t it? We’ll come on the Friday and assemble the furniture then set it up where you want it,” said Jett.
“Thank you. That’ll be very helpful,” said Eve primly.
Jett waited until the truck was unloaded, then he said to Eve, “Morgan and I’d like you to come out to dinner with us tomorrow. Then, perhaps, we could share in a dungeon scene?”
She flicked her gaze from one to the other of them and Jett waited with increasing tension for her answer. He wanted this woman so much he could hardly believe he didn’t really know her yet. All he knew was that he had to have her. She was so cool, so restrained, so self-possessed, it was difficult to know what she thought. But he didn’t get an aura of dislike or distrust from her, so he had to hope she’d agree.
Finally she nodded. “What time?”
Morgan said, “Seven?”
“I’ll be ready.”
And she would be, too, he knew that. She wasn’t one of those women who’d make a man wait half an hour or even longer, either because she couldn’t decide what to wear, or just to teach him a lesson. Instinctively Jett knew she’d be ready and waiting, or very nearly. That was just the kind of woman she was. His kind of woman.
* * * *
With only a week and a day to their opening craft weekend, Ginnie, Taige, and Eve were working frantically to have an abundance of goods to display. Eve was trying to juggle the need for lots of small items to attract browsers, with the need to keep on schedule with her big commissioned wall hanging. Ginnie was driving over almost every night with sketches, paintings, charcoal drawings, and more, for them to hang on the walls, or display on their tables.
“I’m going to sit and sketch people when it’s my turn to take the entry fee and box up the purchases. Just small sketches quickly done that I can sell for a dollar or two.”
“Hey, that’s an awesome idea,” said Taige, smiling and dancing around the room, her hands full of beaded bracelets, her long dark hair flying out behind her.
Eve smiled at her vivacious friend, then at Ginnie, the one who liked to push the envelope. Ginnie’s nose, eyebrows, and bellybutton were all pierced, and her dark hair was razor-cut close against her head. But instead of looking like a punk, Ginnie, in Eve’s opinion, simply showed the perfect lines of her face. High, defined cheekbones, a symmetrical head, and clear skin. Ginnie was beautiful even when she was deliberately trying to look like the artist she undeniably was.
“The coffee truck and a hotdog truck have signed up for the next three months already. Another vendor who makes popcorn and cotton candy is still trying to decide whether or not to come. I said he could just turn up on the day as long as he arrived by eight to set up and pay his fee,” said Eve.
“That’s fair. We really have no idea if anyone at all will turn up, especially for the first few craft markets until word gets around,” said Taige.
“I’ve had a couple of potential clients say they’ll likely come on the Sunday,” said Eve.
“And some of the art students at the community college said they’d come, too, but probably they won’t buy much,” added Ginnie.
“What we ought to do is take a lot of pictures of our crafts after the tables are all set up but before anyone arrives, so we can put the pictures on our websites to display our goods. But then we also should take more pictures when there are people, hopefully looking like a crowd, and put those pictures up, too, to attract people’s attention. If potential customers think a lot of people are interested, it’ll make them curious and more likely to come next time themselves,” said Eve.
“Oh, nice plan,” said Taige.
Eve smiled at her two friends. It was wonderful to be all together again. And it’d be even better when Ginnie was able to move in with them. A lot of her artwork was here already in the shipping room, but she had to stay another week yet at her apartment and her job. She’d had to give the full month’s notice at both places. Eve wondered if it was because of her looking like a “real” artist with her hair and piercings, whereas Eve herself looked like a staid librarian or a clerk, not a worker in yarn.
Eve was so happy to be able to concentrate full-time on her craft at last. Her mind was full of ideas for new wall hangings both large and small. In particular she had in mind a design in three pieces like the old-style triptych. The larger central panel would be a waterfall with trees, flowers, and colorful birds. On the left would be a narrower panel of the rocky track leading to the lush waterfall. The equally narrow right panel would be the same scene in the middle of a drought with the flowers and grass dead, and only a trickle of water in the pool at the base of the now dry waterfall. She didn’t mean it as a political statement about climate change. It was simply a design that burned inside her, begging to be brought to life.
The three of them talked nonstop until late at night, with so many new ideas bouncing from them that Eve had to get a notebook out to write herself a few instructions in case she forgot anything. But that was exciting. She was quietly confident this new venture would be successful.
And what about the new venture with two Doms? Will that be successful, too? Well, it could be fun finding out!
* * * *
Morgan and Jett had spent several hours together planning their first dungeon scene for Eve. It had so many potential steps, moves, and countermoves, Morgan felt like he’d been playing a game of chess. Fortunately, he and Jett had easily agreed on all the basics. Each of them would bring his own style, likes and dislikes, and personality into the relationship, but they’d had no trouble setting the ground rules together, and their plans were so thorough no conflict should arise. Even in a worst-case scenario, Morgan was certain he could trust Jett to treat their sub in the correct manner.
This first time would be more of an exploration. Learning what turned her on, what she wanted and needed from them, and what her personal limits were. A sub’s boundaries were extremely important. Just as some big, tough, men would scream at a spider, and be frightened by a mouse, while their female partner would catch the mouse or spider and take it outside, so, too, a person’s ability to enjoy pain was very personal. It wasn’t just quantity either. It could be timing, spacing, and placement as well. These were all things he and Jett had yet to learn about Eve. But nothing was more certain than that they were determined to pleasure her completely and thoroughly.
“What about the meal we’re going to share?” asked Jett.
“What do you mean?”
“We’ve planned every possible contingency for the dungeon scene, we know what’s going to happen during the floor shows so we’ve been able to plan our responses to Eve’s possible reactions to them, now, are we going to choose her food or not?”
Hmm. Morgan hadn’t thought of that. “It’s tricky. Apart from health-food salad sandwiches we don’t know what she likes. We could choose a variety of dishes, I suppose, to ensure there’d be something she enjoys to choose from.”
“There is the risk of getting it wrong. But forcing her to eat something she might not ordinarily choose can be erotic, too. A means of control.”
“That’s true. But what if she’s actually allergic to something? Having her come out in a rash wouldn’t be erotic.”
“You’re right. Maybe it’d be better to let her order her meal herself this time and remember what she likes. Later we could ask about allergies, then on another date we could push her boundaries in the food area.”
Morgan grinned. “I like that idea. Use this date as a test run for planning the next one, just as we are in the dungeon.”
“At least at the BDSM club they have every possible toy we could ever need. We don’t have to rely on our own toy boxes.”
“Yeah. I’m looking forward to trying out some textured condoms with her. Her reactions should be rather interesting to them,” said Morgan.
“I checked they’ve got flavored ones as well. I wouldn’t mind
wearing a condom to be sucked off if it was a flavored one,” added Jett.
“If we do this right we won’t have to wear condoms more than the first few times. She’ll be willing to trust us. And after trust, we can go for commitment. I had no idea how much I wanted a mate, until I saw her. As soon as I saw her I knew she was the one for me. Okay, I know we have all sorts of obstacles to overcome, including the whole human thing, and she might not even like animals, let alone wolves, but for me, knowing she’s mine, is enough. I can deal with everything else, now I know there’s a perfect mate waiting for me.”
“I can’t let myself hope the way you do. I know she’s perfect and everything I want. But I can’t get past the thought of what happens if she doesn’t adjust to the idea we’re werewolf shape-shifters. Just because her friend can accept Jasper and Cornelian for what they are, that doesn’t mean she will. Taige is a very different person from Eve. I love that Eve’s so reserved and self-contained. But I’m scared shitless that means she doesn’t believe in shape-shifters.”
Although Morgan was confident of success in the end, he understood Jett’s fear. He patted Jett’s shoulder. “It may not be fast or easy, but I know we can lead her through the process to accepting us for who and what we are. It might take a while, but there’s no rush. We’re both still young and finding our mate is the hard part, so we’re well ahead of most of the pack there. Persistence is the key. We’ll take it one step at a time. Tonight we send her screaming into orgasms and memorize what she likes. We mightn’t get any sex ourselves tonight, but as long as she comes, that’s our main aim. Next time we’ll take it another step, and the time after that another step again. We’ll win her over however long it takes.”
Jett just shook his head. Apparently Morgan hadn’t managed to convince him.
* * * *
Jett was as nervous as a kid on his first date. Pleasing Eve, making her want to stay with them both, to learn more of them both, was so vitally important to him, he was almost sick with the tension and fear he might fuck it all up and have her run away from them.
He suddenly realized that at least having Morgan with him meant they could back each other up. If he was starting to lose the plot he could rely on Morgan stepping in, and he knew he’d do the same for the other man. That got Jett’s thinking out of the rut his mind had been running in, and at last he was able to appreciate another advantage of sharing a woman. As well as the sheer pleasure of plotting and planning scenes with a fellow Dom, there was the knowledge that he had support if his emotions were overwhelming him.
Jett wasn’t a particularly emotional man, but finding his mate after all these years of thinking perhaps he would never mate was pretty much the highlight of his life to date. The fear of ruining his chances with her was the worst thing he could ever imagine. But knowing Morgan had his back was reassuring. And he’d have Morgan’s back. Together they could solve any problem, deal with any trouble, to win their woman’s heart.
Even if she was quite relaxed around paranormal beings and happy to mate with werewolves, there was still the issue of some resistance inside the pack.
Cinnabar Rudd had been expelled from the pack for inciting violence against Taige, their pack Alpha Jasper’s woman. Well, Jasper and Cornelian’s shared human woman. The Supreme Alpha of North America had even indicated his approval of the match. That meant the wolves who had been listening to Cinnabar had now become silent. But it didn’t mean they’d changed their minds. Some of them were older men who already had mated female wolves. They wanted to keep the bloodlines pure. Which was all fine and good for them, nicely mated and settled, but it didn’t help the young men for whom there weren’t enough female wolves to mate.
Others were young men unhappy at not having a made-to-order mate, and ready to cause trouble instead of using their brains and finding a mate outside the pack.
Then there were a couple of others who were troublemakers all through and would use any issue that arose to stir up dissent within the pack. They were the really dangerous ones.
Jasper had wrestled them all into line once. Jett had to trust he could keep doing it as the need arose.
Jett stopped pacing his living room. It was still too early, but he was tired of waiting, so he picked up his keys and left his house, walking along the road for a while, across the grassy common ground, past the building where the pack business took place, and down to a huge barn which was used to garage the community’s vehicles.
The only road into the community was a narrow, potholed, dirt, one-lane track, deliberately kept that way to discourage visitors. The pack maintained the track just enough so they wouldn’t break the axles of their own vehicles driving down it. It was closed off with a boom gate that couldn’t be avoided. The posts and boom were solid steel, liable to make a mess of any car that tried to crash through. Of course, a huge truck could do so, but such a vehicle would make plenty of noise grinding up the track so that the community would be alerted to its arrival anyway.
The eighteen-wheeler they’d borrowed to collect the picnic tables and benches was one of two such vehicles the community owned to transport their own produce to the local farmer’s market in season. The other big truck was refrigerated, which made it ideal for delicate crops which were mostly transported to the airport and sent to high-end restaurants. In fact, the pack specialized in producing niche-market crops which garnered very high prices. With plenty of labor available it made good sense for them to specialize.
Jett backed his own car out of the barn. He’d spent an hour washing it and cleaning it inside and out. Likely that was stupid, as it was almost dark already, but it made him feel better that his beautiful mate-to-be wouldn’t get dirt on her pretty dress. Assuming she would be wearing a dress, of course. He was still lost in happy thoughts of what she might be wearing when Morgan arrived.
“The car looks great. Well done,” said Morgan by way of greeting.
“She won’t be able to tell in the dark, but it made me feel better,” explained Jett.
“I understand, and I think it’s a good idea.”
It was only fifteen minutes by road to the schoolhouse, even allowing for the stop to unlock the boom, move it, and replace it. No one ever left it open, even if they knew someone else would be coming by soon. Its sole purpose was to be there as a barrier, so it was only useful if locked in place.
Jett stopped close to the back door of the schoolhouse, then got out of the car and stood beside Morgan, leaving the headlamps on so Eve could see her way across the gravel to the car.
Morgan had already pulled the rope to make the bell ring. It was loud, but then he supposed it had needed to be to summon the schoolchildren from wherever they were playing into the schoolhouse. Eve and Taige arrived at the door together, Eve in a silvery creation that seemed to shimmer in the glow from the car. It had a high mandarin color and long sleeves gripped tightly at her wrists. Even her feet were hidden beneath the flowing folds of the gown. Well, he’d just have to imagine what her body looked like until he got her into the dungeon. Meanwhile he’d make love to her beautiful face and her clever mind. Her hair was swept into a bun-thing on top of her head, displaying her long slender neck, and she was wearing long, dangling silvery earrings that sparkled against her skin.
He unstuck his tongue from the roof of his mouth and said, “You look lovely.”
“Why thank you.”
“Have fun,” giggled Taige, closing the door.
Fun. Yeah. That was definitely in the cards.
* * * *
Eve fingered the earrings Taige had given her as she climbed into the car. They were perfect with this dress, being clear glass beads mounted onto silver wire, and they danced and sparkled every time she moved her head.
“You’d better give me a couple of your business cards as well, in case anyone asks about them,” Eve had said to Taige.
“That’s a good point. We should all always carry each other’s business cards as well as our own. I mean, we all have
links on our websites to each other, but it would be good to have your cards as well. Oh, and another thing. A word of advice. Take a clean pair of panties in your purse with you tonight. With a bit of good luck, you’ll need them.”
“Taaaige!” Eve gulped, snorted, then laughed. That was so typical of her friend. However, it was good advice, and she’d obeyed Taige, adding a pair of white lace panties inside a Ziploc bag into her purse along with half a dozen of Taige’s business cards.
Of course, she might not need them at all. Just because the men had talked about BDSM, that didn’t mean they were going to do anything tonight. Besides this was the first date and all a good girl did on a first date was permit a quick peck on the cheek goodnight. Not even a kiss with tongue.
On the other hand, there were times when she was anything but good, and if they asked, or even hinted, she might be willing to progress well beyond a bit of tongue.
These two men appealed to her in a way no man ever had before. There was just something about them that plucked a string linking her heart to her pussy.
Eve forced herself to sit straight in the car, hands folded on her lap and knees together. “Where are we going?” she asked.
“Out to dinner and a floorshow. We didn’t know what kinds of food you prefer though, so we’ll just have to hope you like something on the menu,” said Morgan.
Jett, who was driving, flicked Morgan a look. “What are your favorite foods?” he asked Eve.
Eve’s father had been sent to Africa on business a few years earlier and she’d accompanied him as his secretary and Girl Friday, because she’d always wanted to visit such a mysterious continent as Africa. One of the highlights of the trip for her, but not for her father, had been eating local food. “Crocodile, wildebeest, impala, and fruit. I love all different kinds of fruit.”