by Lilia Moon
Ari sits on the tiny shelf that’s probably meant to be a bench and steals Chloe’s coffee. “You’re the expert.”
I love this. Watching Chloe be all of who she is, listening to that avid, curious brain of hers figuring out how to make instruments of quality for those of us who will appreciate them. Sharing who she is with one of my favorite people.
One who is quietly lonely. I can see it, here in the early morning dim. Ari is throwing all of herself into appreciating who we are—and silently hoping she doesn’t have to wait until her forties to find the same kind of belonging. I want to ruffle her hair and make her promises, but neither one would be at all respectful of the amazing person she is.
Chloe and I will just have to keep being living proof of what’s possible, because the two women currently hamming it up in the changing room are peas from the same pod and they know it. I shift my gaze back to the shop, because if I sit here with compassion in my eyes for much longer, Ari will notice. My eyes land on the really bad collection of crops hanging in the window that I noticed on our way in.
The ones Ari told me not to judge. Poor students and hip, broke artists deserve kinky toys too.
I’m grateful I can afford the instruments I want these days.
Chloe has the offending vinyl pants off and the latex ones most of the way on, which is giving me a really nice show of her lace-clad ass. She definitely doesn’t look like a sausage in these, although given her thoughtful frown, she’s still not very happy.
She tugs on the waistband and makes a face at Ari. “These aren’t awful.”
“They’re the best of the easily available ones in town.” Ari has her business face on now. I stay in the shadows of the curtain and watch two pros at work. “Anything else I have to order online.”
Chloe’s already shaking her head. I know what she thinks about online retail. Fantastic for cat food, piss-poor for items that are meant to be a sensory, evocative experience. I can’t disagree. It’s the difference between canned music and live, and much as I hope to make my new living from the former, nothing will ever replace being able to speak straight to my audience’s ears.
I chuckle and mentally take it back. Some things replace it very nicely.
Chloe casts me a knowing look and shimmies more than she needs to in order to slide out of her bra.
Ari claps her hands over her eyes. “Not looking.”
Chloe laughs. “My boobs aren’t that bad, oh young and perky one.”
Ari groans. “It’s not that. It’s the look on Eli’s face.”
The entire universe, figuring out that a clown lives inside my sub. I reach out and tweak Chloe’s nipple. “Behave, woman.”
She snickers and reaches for a shiny black corset, which is probably an answer all by itself. I lean against the doorframe of the changing room and wonder just how many Doms have watched their subs put on dominatrix gear.
Chloe examines the lines of the corset in the mirror as she laces it up, but Ari is watching me. A switch on a mission, ready to jump into protective mode if her friend needs it. Which is totally unnecessary, but it warms me anyhow. Kink is always better with good friends in it.
I stick my tongue out at Ari, just in case she’s coffee deprived enough to miss the message, and step in to help Chloe with the lacing. Also totally unnecessary, but I’ve never needed much excuse to put hands on her skin.
Her lips quirk as I neatly tighten the lacings. “You’re pretty good at that.”
I keep my attention on my fingers. “I am. Pretty good at undoing them too.”
Ari bolts for the door, hands back over her eyes. “Not looking!”
Chloe’s bubbling laughter is the high point of my morning.
Although what’s about to happen next might give it some pretty stiff competition.
Preorder NEED, the final book of the Fettered series! Ari has been waiting so long… and now it’s time.
(If you can’t follow a link from here, go to liliamoon.com and I’ll get you hooked up.)
xoxo Lilia
And don’t worry, I have no plans to stop writing when this series is finished. I’ve already started work on the next one. Remember the rope-bondage guy Chloe saw in the dungeon? He’s about to go on a road trip to pick himself up some very special handmade rope. Twisted Strands, book one of the Handcrafted trilogy, coming soon!