Kara smiled. “Deliciously so. Come on, you can crash at my place. We’ll snuggle up and celebrate your fantastic debut by sleeping most of the day.”
“Sounds perfect.”
They rode the streetcar back to Canal Street in silence. Moira rested her head on Kara’s shoulder and let her thoughts wander. It wasn’t until they were back on their feet and joining the rest of the late night revelers returning home that Moira spoke again.
“Can I ask you a question?”
Kara laughed. “As long as we’ve been friends, I thought we were past the point of having to ask if we could ask.”
Moira tipped her head to the side in acknowledgement. “True.”
They walked in silence for another minute or two.
“So, were you going to ask something?”
Moira shrugged. “I guess.” She hesitated but finally asked. “If I hadn’t been so needy after Justin, and after Mom dying, if I hadn’t moved down here, would you have let Tamara collar you?”
Kara looked away with a sad smile. “You really shouldn’t think that’s your fault.”
Moira stopped and looked at her oldest friend. “But would you?”
“It was a long time ago, Moira. And I really don’t know. Things were different. I was different.” She reached out and took Moira’s hand again. “I don’t regret any of it, though. She moved. I stayed. And I got you down here with me in the bargain.”
Moira stepped forward and hugged her. “As long as you don’t regret it.”
Kara laughed. “The only thing I regret is not taking you to see Adrian sooner. Think of all the fun we could’ve been having!”
Moira woke to the sound of the front door opening. It took her a moment to adjust, and to remember that it wasn’t her own bed she was in, but Kara’s. She opened her eyes slowly, stretched and reached for her phone.
One thirty. She groaned quietly and then remembered why she’d woken.
The front door.
And voices in the living room.
Moira stretched again, trying to hear what was being said, but couldn’t make it out. She thought about putting on clothes, at least until she remembered she didn’t have any because she was at Kara’s, and had been since Friday.
Screw it. Kara wanders around in her underwear all the time.
She smiled, remembering the previous day’s episode with the delivery boy, and got up. She’d borrowed a shirt from Kara to sleep in, so it wasn’t like she was naked. Moira yawned and ran her fingers through her hair. She felt worn out, even after sleeping most of the day. Or maybe because she had slept most of the day.
Not like it had anything to do with staying up all night drinking and fucking. Mostly fucking, since Moira was smart enough to know she’d never held her liquor well, even without the club’s limit. Even before she’d met Justin, she’d had a firm two-drink limit unless she was home drinking wine.
God, I could use some water.
Moira’s thoughts continued to swirl as she stumbled down the hall. It wasn’t until she hit the living room that the voice she’d been hearing clicked.
“You can’t tell me you haven’t missed me, Kara. I saw how fast you ran last night, and I heard you beg.”
Moira froze. Neither of them saw she was there, but she didn’t dare move.
Kara looked at the floor. “It isn’t about missing you, Mistress.”
“Your friend is fine. You saw her last night. She’s more than fine, and you know Adrian will look after her if she needs it. And she won’t need it.” Tamara stood, lifting Kara’s chin and kissing her softly. “Promise me you’ll think about it.”
“I will promise to think about it, but that’s all.”
“Good enough.” Tamara looked up, finally noticing Moira. Their eyes locked for a moment, but Tamara’s gave nothing away. “Moira. I didn’t know you were here.”
Kara turned, startled. Unlike Tamara’s, Kara’s face gave everything away. Panic, shock, worry, longing.
“Tamara.” Moira was determined not to give anything away, either. Her eyes flicked to Kara and back to the other Domme.
Tamara twitched half a smile, and turned back to Kara. “Think about it.” She kissed her again and left.
Kara sighed. “Sorry, hon. I was trying not to wake you up.”
Moira shook her head and walked over to her friend. “It’s fine. The bed was empty.”
Kara gave her a look. “A month ago, I don’t think you would have noticed.”
Moira perched on the arm of the chair Kara sat in and took her hand. “I have you to thank for that.”
Kara looked away. “How much did you hear?”
“Enough. She wants you to go with her?”
She nodded. “She’s here through the week after next.”
Moira took a quiet breath. “Do you want to?”
“I don’t know.” Kara turned inward, her eyes staring at the corner but not seeing anything. “Years ago, I might have said yes without a thought. But now…”
Moira brushed a lock of hair behind Kara’s ear. “You don’t have to stay for me.”
Kara turned, leaning her face into Moira’s hand. “I know. I’m not. Because she’s right, you are fine. You’re more than fine.”
“As long as I’m not holding you back.”
Kara yawned and shook her head. “You’ve never held me back, Moira.”
“Good.” Moira bent and kissed the corner of Kara’s mouth, and then took her hand again. “Come back to bed.” She stood, pulling Kara with her back to the bedroom.
But long after Kara fell asleep with Moira’s arms wrapped around her, Moira continued to stare at the bedroom walls.
Chapter Eighteen
The bell above the shop door rang quietly as Moira stepped in, the smell of ink and disinfectant assaulting her nose. The girl at the front desk gave her a disinterested look and turned back to her magazine.
“Help you?”
Moira instantly wished she had her crop. She’d never been big on the sullen-teenager act, and combined with the goth hair, tats and multiple piercings, the girl’s attitude immediately sent her into Domme mode.
Crop or not, she could handle this.
Moira leaned over the counter and put a single finger under the girl’s chin, putting enough pressure into it that she had to look up. Moira gave her a don’t fuck with me grin. “I’m looking for Moreau.”
The girl’s eyes widened. “I’ll, um, just… He’s in the back. I’ll go get him.”
Moira dropped her hand. “Thank you.”
Moreau came up a minute later without the girl.
“Moira, right? One of Adrian’s?”
She smiled. “That’s right.”
He nodded. “Everything okay with the fleur?”
“Perfect, thanks. I was hoping you could help me with something else.”
Moreau laughed. “Really? I didn’t think I’d see you in here again without Kara frog-marching you.”
Moira shrugged and smiled wider. “I don’t object to tattoos. It was more that I was surprised, and I like to choose what happens to my body.”
He laughed again. “I see. So what can I do for you, then? Do you need to look through the books? I’m assuming you’re here for more ink, right?”
She shook her head. “Yes, I am. And no, I don’t think I need to look. If I tell you what I want, can you tell me if you can do it?”
“Honey, if you can think it, I can ink it. And if I can’t, one of my kids can.”
“Good.” She quickly outlined what she wanted.
Moreau rubbed his jaw. “You don’t start small, do you?”
“Go big or go home, right?”
“Well.” He ran a hand through his hair. “I can do the outline in one go, but it’ll be a process to fill in the detail. Several visits, likely. Either way, it’ll be a long sit.”
“That’s fine, but I’d like to get it blocked in at least, if that’s all right.”
A slow smile crept across his face.
“I hope you brought a book, then. Come on back, let’s get it done.”
Hours later, Moira’s phone buzzed again.
Where are you???
Kara had been texting her for the last hour of her session. Moira grimaced. Her best friend would likely be furious that she hadn’t told her what she was doing, but she’d really wanted to surprise her. Five hours in the chair later, she wasn’t so sure about the idea.
I’ll call in a minute.
Moreau’s girl handed her receipt and card back to her and gave her a pen to sign with. Moira scribbled her name and handed the receipt back.
Time to face the music.
She dialed Kara’s number and prepared to get yelled at.
Kara picked up on the first ring. “Please tell me you’ve been fucking someone fabulous, so I don’t have to kill you. You were supposed to be here an hour ago.”
Moira winced and walked back out onto the street. “No, but I do have a good excuse.”
“I’m waiting to hear it.”
She hesitated. “I’d rather show you. It’s easier. Meet me at my place?”
Kara gave a dramatic sigh. “Fine.”
“See you there, then.”
They hung up and Moira dialed another number.
“Bonjour, mon ange noir. To what do I owe the phone call?”
Moira smiled. “Checking in, I suppose. Do you need me this week?”
Adrian was silent for a moment. “Non, I don’t need you. But I have put it about that you’re available. Is there something I should know about?”
“Wait, you’re booking me clients already?”
“We did vay-yay about this, mon ange. I wouldn’t have asked if I wasn’t actively in need of another Maîtresse.”
Moira shrugged and climbed the stairs to her apartment. “True. Well, fine, but nothing that requires me to be on my back for this week, at the very least.”
Adrian’s silence was deafening.
She sighed. “It’s nothing bad.”
“Mon ange noir.” Disapproval. She could hear it, it was so heavy.
She opened her door and winced. “It really isn’t. In fact, you’re the one who said I should do it.”
Adrian sighed. She could almost see him pinching the bridge of his nose as she shut the door and sat. “Ma chère, s’il vous plaît, put me out of my misery.”
A sharp knock on the door behind her made her turn. “Kara’s here, I’ll call you back.”
“Mon ange, don’t—”
Moira hung up the phone and opened the door. Kara stood there with her arms folded. “You better have a good excuse.”
“I swear I do.”
“Hmph.” She came in and flopped on a chair. “Tell.”
Moira smiled and bit her lip. “Promise you won’t get mad?”
Kara’s eyes narrowed. “Should I be?”
“No, but you might still be.”
“Hmph. Better tell me so I can decide for myself. Come on, I’m dying to know now.”
Moira shrugged off her jacket. “I’ll need your help, I think.”
Kara stood, confused. “Wait, with what?”
Moira turned and started to lift her tank. “With this.”
Kara’s fingers pulled at the fabric. “I still don’t—holy fuck me to hell, Moira!”
Moira laughed and carefully pulled the tank over her head. “You’ll have to peel off the bandage. I’m sure it looks all blotchy and red now, but Moreau swears it’ll be fantastic when it’s done.”
Kara whistled, slowly removing the sterile bandage they’d covered her back in, and then moving Moira into the light. “It already looks fucking fantastic. Have you seen it?”
Moira shook her head. “I can feel every inch of it. Wasn’t ready to see it yet.”
“Well, come in your room and look in the mirror. God, Moira. I’m impressed. And pissed you didn’t tell me. You know I would’ve come with you!”
Moira laughed and followed Kara into her room. “I know. I wanted to surprise you.”
“Well, I’m sure as hell surprised!” Kara grabbed the mirror off the wall above the dresser and continued into the bathroom. “Come here, because you need to see this. Did Moreau do this one, or did he have one of his boys do it?”
“I need you to wash it for me anyway. But no, his son Simon did it. Moreau said he didn’t have the strength in his wrists to do one this big anymore.”
Moira walked over to the sink and turned while Kara twisted on the tap. Wrapping a towel around Moira’s waist to catch the drips, she gently rubbed warm water and soap over the tattoo, and then rinsed it, finally patting it dry with the towel. Then Kara held up the mirror she’d grabbed and nudged Moira to look.
A giant angel’s wing stretched over the left side of her back from the top of her shoulder to the top of her buttocks, and out to the back of her arm.
“I love how he wrapped that last feather around that adorable little dimple at the top of your ass.”
Moira stared at the mirror. Moreau’s boy had outdone himself. He’d outlined the feathers, and had plans for reversing the shading so that the wing would be black with negative space for highlights, and he’d used every inch of space he could to make it as realistic as possible.
“When are you going in for the other?”
Kara’s question caught her by surprise. “I wasn’t, actually. I have to go back for the shading, but I wanted to get the outline done.”
Moira waited and was rewarded by dawning recognition. Kara laughed loudly and set the mirror down. Carefully, she wrapped Moira in a hug. “So now you’re a one-winged angel? I love it!”
Moira let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. “You’re not mad?”
“Only that you didn’t let me come. But no. Not mad. Moira, it’s gorgeous.”
Moira grinned and walked out of the bathroom to look for a soft shirt and the ointment Moreau had given her. “I’m glad. An hour in, I was having serious doubts.”
“Exactly why you should’ve let me come!”
“Well, I wanted to surprise you!” She handed Kara the jar of ointment. “Rub that in for me?” She winced as Kara did. “You don’t think Adrian will be upset, do you?”
“No. He’ll be annoyed you didn’t tell him first, but he won’t be upset. Let him stew.”
Hesitating, Moira ran a finger up Kara’s arm. “Do you want to stay? We can order in.”
Kara smiled and lay down on her back so she was looking up at Moira. “Sounds excellent.”
“And you’re sure it looks okay?”
Kara reached up to caress Moira’s cheek. “It looks fabulous. I told you that you’d look totally fuckhot with wings, and I was right.”
Moira smiled and covered Kara’s hand with her own. “Even with only one?”
“Even more with only the one.”
Moira leaned down and kissed Kara’s cheek. At least, she meant to. But Kara turned so that their mouths met instead, and what started as a chaste kiss quickly became something more, until Moira broke away with a gasp.
“Fuck. I need food if we’re going to do this.”
Kara laughed. “Sorry. I told you it was fuckhot.”
Moira leveled a hungry look at her. “I’m getting that. But I’ve also been sitting in a chair for five hours, and I’m starving.” She stood up and slapped Kara’s ass. “Food first, play later.”
Kara yelped and laughed. “Yes, Mistress.”
Chapter Nineteen
Moira took a deep breath and stared at the door, trying to remember what Adrian had told her. Her first client was supposed to be easy. A simple closet masochist, a town councilman with a fetish for whips and a good beating.
No reason to be so nervous.
You’re a fucking Domme. Dominatrix, actually. So act like it.
She took another deep breath and shoved the nerves away. The door banged open as she shoved it hard, startling the man inside. He looked at her crossly.
“You’re late.”
&n
bsp; Moira glared at him with a raised eyebrow and crossed her arms, leaning to the side. The toe of her leather thigh-high boot tapped the floor. “Excuse me?”
He looked her over. “I suppose you’ll do.”
Moira’s crop flew out, stopping short so that it only touched his chin. “Shut your mouth before I gag you. You will speak when I give you permission, and only then. Say yes, Mistress.”
Her client stared at her and slowly smiled. “Yes, Mistress.”
She glared at him a moment longer, then pointed at the door. “Close it.”
Without a word, he walked past her and closed the door. Moira tapped her foot until he returned to stand in front of her.
“Strip to the waist.”
“Yes, M—”
Her crop slapped across his thigh. “I didn’t say you could speak.”
He lowered his eyes in acknowledgement and finished stripping out of his shirt.
“Kneel.”
He knelt. Moira walked slowly around him to where her toys were laid out waiting.
“You prefer the cat? Answer.”
“Yes, Mistress.”
“Tell me your safe word.”
“Revenue.”
Moira shook her head. Leave it to a businessman. She picked up the cat-o’-nine-tails and walked behind him. “Open your knees.” As he moved, Moira placed her heel on his back and pushed. “Bend.”
The councilman bent at the waist until he was prostrate on his knees. Moira gave a few test flicks of the cat, her heel still pressing into her client’s spine.
“You enjoy pain, councilman?”
The cat whistled as she brought it down, easing back at the last minute. His grunt became a sigh. She pulled her foot from his back and walked to his front, pinning his wrist between the heel and sole of her boot.
“Do you like feeling pain? Or do you like causing it, as well?”
The cat came down again, striking him full on the back.
“Answer me.”
“I like to feel the pain, Mistress.”
She struck again, changing the angle, and let it fall slightly harder.
I like to feel you do that, Mistress.
Kara’s voice from the night before sounded in her memory. Moira pushed it away and struck the councilman again.
Fleur de Nuit: Bourbon Street Bondage, Book 1 Page 16