KNOW - Mattie & Milo (Fettered Book 4)

by Lilia Moon

“Maybe.” Ari doesn’t sound a whole lot happier than Scorpio, and she’s walked the walk almost as long as I have. “Lots of couples who don’t look like a match on paper do just fine together.”

  They do, and one of Ari’s favorite hobbies is finding those people and playing matchmaker. “It would take a lot of shifting by at least one of us.” And when you’re talking power exchange, it’s usually the sub who has to move her feet. “I don’t think I can be the sub he needs. He’s already messing with my head, and that’s so not my kink.”

  “I wouldn’t have figured it was mine either.” Scorpio looks at the two guys at the other end of the bar, studiously pretending they’re counting glasses. “Harlan’s doing a good job of convincing me I’m wrong about that.”

  I don’t want to insult her, I really don’t. But I know what I know. “You’re new to this, so your ideas about what you might like were mostly in your head.” I turn to her, hoping like hell she isn’t taking this the wrong way. “All the shit I say I don’t like—I’ve tried it. Usually more than once, and with more than one Dom.”

  She nods, and she doesn’t look insulted at all. “I get that. It’s like guitars. I know what I like and nobody’s going to convince me otherwise.”

  Ari doesn’t say anything. She just tips her head to my shoulder.

  Because she totally gets it too.

  Chapter Ten

  Milo

  I don’t mind fixing things—it gives me something to do with my hands and it keeps the equipment I build behaving the way it’s supposed to. But nothing beats making something new.

  I look around at the pile of tubing and metal I’ve spread out in one of Fettered’s private rooms. It would probably look random to anyone else in the universe. It’s not, but the order exists purely in my head. This is the guts of what will eventually be a beautifully adjustable chair—and I love being able to feel the finished shape of it emerging as I play with a bunch of lengths of metal.

  This metal is special. I’ve got flat tubing that has some give in it and some interesting coils that most people would use for vehicle suspension. I’m thinking they could add an element of fun for a Dom with some imagination. I’m not entirely sure how it all comes together yet, but it will. My friend Michael ordered the tubing for me, and then added the coils from his personal stash, because as much as we both pretend I have a garage-machinist hobby just like he does, I’m pretty sure he suspects that what I do in my garage is a whole lot different than what he does in his.

  I don’t usually bring something this unfinished into the club, but if I’m building a chair that’s going to be a distant cousin to a pogo stick, I need to imagine it in place so I can figure out how to keep the people using it safe. And the walls. Damon frowns on unintended holes in his walls.

  I put a couple of coils under my palms and lean on them, testing how much give they have. Not a whole lot, which is probably a good thing. I’m aiming for bounce here, not projectile subs.

  “That looks like fun,” says an amused voice from the doorway.

  I turn my head. I’m not surprised someone’s here, but this isn’t the guy I expected. “How’d you draw the short straw?”

  Daniel walks into the room, suave in his power suit and easy confidence, and takes a seat on a low leather bench. “I asked for it.”

  I stop trying to bounce on my springs. “I look that bad, huh?” I know better than to underestimate this guy. I’m very sure he’s hell in a boardroom, and he reads subs as well as anyone I know—and I know some very good Doms. He’s just smart enough to extend that skill to everyone else in his life too.

  He shrugs and picks up one of my springs, turning it over like it’s an interesting but harmless alien life form. “You look like I felt about five years ago.”

  I wince. That’s when he left the club, which means he’s figured out more about my mess than I thought anyone had. Or he’s been briefed. “Is that you talking or Damon?”

  Daniel casts me a quick glance. “Damon thinks you’re bored.”

  It happens to a lot of people who’ve been in the lifestyle as long as we have. “You think something different.”

  Daniel puts down the spring and gives me a look that probably slays in the boardroom. “I think you’re questioning who you are and where you belong.”

  He’s not completely right—but he’s close enough to have me cringing. “Yeah. It’s more than boredom.”

  He gives me a sardonic look. “That’s why I’m here instead of Quint or Harlan. They think you need a kick in the pants and an interesting sub to play with.”

  I line up two of the slightly bent tubes perpendicular to each other. More annoying symbolism. “Did that work for you when you were unhappy?” I know the answer, but I’m pissed off enough to ask the question anyhow.

  “No.”

  He’s smart. Never use three words where one will do. “Then what are you suggesting?”

  “I’m not suggesting anything.” His words are soft enough to have me looking up—and the empathy I see in his eyes does all the slaying that the boardroom tough guy didn’t finish. “I’m just letting you know that I see you. I see you’re tangling with something hard that’s making you question some really big fundamentals in your life. You’re not the only one who’s stood there, and I wish that meant there’s some smart advice on how to get out of the suck, but I don’t think there is.”

  Damn. He’s a really good guy, and he’s seeing things nobody else is seeing because he had to look in the mirror and ask himself something similar once. I put the tubing down and toss him the question that’s scraping at me most. “What if I screw someone else up while I’m standing in the suck?”

  He looks at me and exhales slowly. “We all screw people up. Doms don’t have any kind of monopoly on that.”

  I know that—but he’s dodging my question. “It’s one of the reasons you left, isn’t it? So you wouldn’t mess with a sub.”

  He sighs, and makes the face I didn’t want to see. “Yes.”

  “Was it the right thing to do?”

  He shrugs, and this time it’s not the boardroom guy who answers. “I don’t know.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Mattie

  “Yes!” Scorpio puts down her phone and beams at the rest of the crew holed up in Your Perfect Moment’s main room assembling wedding props. “I scored Evie-and-Tash duty tonight.”

  Leo glances up from his laptop and grins. “Sam’s going to be pissed. We haven’t seen the girls for weeks.”

  “Eleven days.” Gabby arranges a neat purple bow with the kind of artistic flair none of the rest of us can pull off, which is why she’s on bow duty. “Jules started keeping a calendar so she can keep sob stories straight from actual facts.”

  Scorpio flashes me a grin. “Does she keep track of when certain people invite certain other people to skip the queue?”

  I roll my eyes. “Sue me. I thought three people was a good idea to keep Evie out of Green Lake.”

  “Right. So Milo was just an extra pair of hands?”

  The teasing is so gentle—and yet it pushes on something sore inside me. I look down at the mess I’m making of poking holes in styrofoam spheres.

  I feel, more than see, Scorpio’s wince. Gabby’s fingers reach for mine under the table, Meghan slides my coffee closer to my hand, and I know I’m totally sunk. Kindness does me in every time.

  “So, Mattie.” Emily’s voice is soft, but it insists that I look up from my mutilated styrofoam ball. “I’m going to say this once, and after that you can tell me to butt out. I know you’re pretty new around here, but we try to be family for each other when we can. If you want to talk, we’re here for you. If it involves a certain Dom who can’t figure out what he wants, know that’s come up at this table before.”

  I stare at her, because somehow that’s the last thing I expected out of the mouth of a woman wearing a neat green pantsuit and winding pretty wire around styrofoam balls, no matter what I know about how she spends her time
away from the office.

  She blushes. “I’m sorry. I’ll totally butt out now.”

  Leo leans over and kisses her cheek. “Maybe give Mattie here a chance to actually decide if she wants to talk to us before you run for the hills, sweetie.”

  I look around at the people making centerpieces and gently waiting for me to decide if I trust them. All people with at least some exposure to the kink world, but who aren’t in nearly as deep. Perspective. I shrug, still feeling uncomfortable, and meet Emily’s eyes. “Are you sure it isn’t weird to do this at work?”

  Leo snorts and elbows Meghan, who’s peering over his shoulder at whatever’s on his laptop screen. “We’re sitting here making a banner that says ‘Skirts up, Ladies, and Panties Down.’ We’re already weird.”

  I don’t bother to hide my grin. “Is that for Doxy’s party? Quint’s going to be busy if he’s bartending and handing out spanking party favors.”

  Meghan rolls her eyes. “No spankings. Ari’s putting a box at the front door to collect underwear on the way in. Quint will just have to say no if it gets any kinkier than that.”

  Quint doesn’t have any problem setting limits. And it’s kind of sweet, imagining a group of Doxy’s friends letting loose a little. I hope I’m that cool when I turn fifty. “Does he want any help at the bar?”

  Scorpio grins. “I already offered, but he says he has a couple of baby Doms on tap. Ones who are under strict instructions to dispense lots of stern looks and smoldering gazes and otherwise be very sweet and vanilla and not cross any lines.”

  That sounds like baby Dom punishment, which technically doesn’t exist, but that’s never stopped Quint.

  “He won’t have all the fun, though.” Scorpio waggles her eyebrows. “Ari’s handling front desk duty, and she’s pulling out her Domme gear.”

  Ari’s mostly a sub when she’s really playing, but she’s got a fondness for latex and stiletto boots, and being a switch gives her a chance to let that bust loose every so often. “Did you guys tell her not to spank anyone?”

  Emily and Leo exchange amused looks. Nobody tells Ari what to do, especially if she’s in a latex-and-stilettos mood.

  “So, sweetness.” Leo leans over and strokes my cheek. “Talk to us or don’t talk, but know the offer is open.”

  Other than it being totally weird to do this while we make table centerpieces at a place where I get paid to work, it’s a good idea. I look at the man who’s offered me kindness along with another gentle push. He’s a lot like Milo. A quiet, observant Dom. I swallow and decide to start there. “You’re quite a bit like him.”

  Leo nods slowly. “Beta Dom.”

  The online forums have turned those into dirty words, but yeah. “You play differently than the guys I usually choose. You and Sam do lots of head games, lots of role play, right?”

  “Yes.” He watches me with those steady eyes of his. “And you consider yourself more hardcore than that.”

  It hurts that he thinks I buy into that stereotype, but plenty of people do. “I don’t think beta Doms are weak, if that’s what you mean. I’ve seen you build a container strong enough to hold Sam so that he can totally let go, and I completely respect that.”

  His eyes flare with pleased surprise. “Thank you.”

  Emily tilts her head, curious. “You don’t think Milo could do that for you?”

  I close my eyes. One question and she’s poked right into the sore spot between my ribs, the one that’s reaching fingers for my throat and making it stupidly hard to breathe. I look down at my hands and what’s left of an innocent styrofoam ball. Nobody’s working on table centerpieces now.

  “I don’t understand,” says Meghan quietly, and somehow I know that she’s done it to save me. To fill in the awkward silence I don’t know how to fill, without letting the subject escape entirely. “What’s a beta Dom?”

  All heads turn to Leo, who rolls his eyes. “What, my membership card has an earlier year than yours, so I’m supposed to know everything?”

  Scorpio snickers. “Yeah, pretty much.”

  He closes his laptop and looks at Meghan. “It’s like those romance novels you read. Alpha guys are the ones who swoop in all dominant and take charge and sweep people off their feet. Beta guys are the hot, sensitive men everyone wants as a friend. Same basic idea in the kink world. Alpha Doms are the stereotype. Beta Doms are generally less into pain and impact play and more into mind kink. Or in my case, more into the kinks that meet my sub’s needs.”

  Meghan squints, her nose wrinkled in a way that makes her look like a cute, confused sixteen year old. “Isn’t that a good thing?”

  Leo grins. “Sam thinks so.”

  My turn, because my membership card is almost as old as Leo’s and because maybe this I can actually talk about. “Beta Doms have gotten a bad rap because someone started the dumb idea that they aren’t real Doms, they’re just in it to keep their partners happy.”

  “Keeping your partner happy is a big deal.” Gabby’s voice is firm enough that we all turn to look at her, surprised. “What? I’m sorry, but since when is being open to what your partner wants and needs, and maybe even being willing to change so that they get it, a bad thing?”

  Leo starts clapping slowly. “What she said.”

  I tip my head down, because they’re right and it’s making the feelings in my gut twist up even worse. “But I’m not a beta sub, if that’s even a thing. Maybe it’s selfish, but I know what I want, and I need it to stay sane. I don’t think I can give it up, and it doesn’t feel fair to ask for those things from a Dom who doesn’t share my kinks.” Maybe I don’t believe in beta Doms after all. I look at Leo, and I know my eyes are begging for an answer I won’t believe even if he gives it to me. “Meeting my needs isn’t going to be enough for Milo in the long run. He needs to get his needs met too.”

  His lips twitch into a wry smile. “That’s exactly why Sam turned me down for months. I’d never role played at anything, ever, and I scened with nice, quiet, obedient subs with confidence problems.”

  Emily snickers quietly into her styrofoam ball.

  Leo makes a face at her. “Exactly.” Then he looks at me. “We grew into each other, and we found we had more overlap than I ever would have guessed. Sam swears he knew it all along, but I think he just says that to make me squirm.”

  That would be Sam. Who I happened to know chased after Leo hard, even while he was turning him down. “So you think I should give it a try. See if maybe there’s a way we can both get what we need.”

  He holds my gaze, and his look is pure Dom. “I think you want to give it a try, and that’s what matters here.”

  The fingers at my throat tighten back up into a fist. “I did try. He said no.”

  He shakes his head and opens his laptop back up. Casually, but I can feel his energy still beaming straight at me. “I’d send you to Sam for lessons on how to get around that little problem, but I’m pretty sure you don’t need them.”

  His words blow soft, loose, relaxed air into all my tight places. A gift from a quiet, observant Dom. Because he’s right. Mattie, the woman who has too many conflicted feelings tugging in her belly, has no idea what to do next—but Mattie the club brat has faced down plenty of Doms and won.

  I just needed a little help setting her loose.

  Chapter Twelve

  Milo

  It’s a standard early night in the dungeon. Some people tinkering with equipment, setting up for scenes. Others hanging out on a bench or a couch or a stretch of wall, negotiating boundaries or catching up with friends. Except it’s not feeling standard at all, because far too many of those people are casting surreptitious glances in my direction—and they’re all highly amused.

  I’ve been a Dom for eleven years, and a regular at the club for eight of them, so I know exactly what those looks mean. One of the club brats has struck again. I’m doing what every Dom in my shoes does and pretending I haven’t noticed anything, all while scanning the room for Ari, Sam, Ma
ttie, or one of their lesser minions. The minions usually look guilty as hell, but I can’t see anyone fitting that description. Which means it’s one of the experts who’s punked me, and none of them are anywhere in sight.

  Then I spy Sam, sitting in Leo’s lap—with “It Wasn’t Me” freshly painted on his chest. In purple this time, and with enough style that he clearly didn’t do it himself. Leo shoots me the sympathetic look of a Dom who’s been on the receiving end of the brat pack a lot more times than I have. It never pays to make them mad, and Sam’s pursuit of Leo is still the stuff of sub legend. Dom legend too, but we try not to let them know that. The world can only handle so many Sams.

  I wander over to the corner where my emergency-repair toolbox is stashed and slide a couple of wrenches and screwdrivers into my leathers. There are a few hushed snickers as I do that, which is either a clue or a sign that Sam is hamming it up behind my back. I’m pretty sure he’s not the instigator of whatever this is, but I have no doubts at all about his abilities to perform an impromptu pile-on.

  The more interesting thing is that none of the Doms in the room are clueing me in—so whoever’s done this has a fair amount of sympathy on their side. Normally that would point the finger straight at Ari, but I’m unconvinced. Mattie might not have as much overt clout around here as our front-door person, but she’s a good friend, and loyalties in this community run deep. Turning her down won’t have gone over well.

  Heck, it isn’t going over well with me, and I know why I did it.

  I turn around, because it’s time to face the music, and start the slow, easy walkabout of a seasoned dungeon monitor. I meet Dom eyes, nod at a few subs, step in to say a few words to one who looks scared. She’s new, but she’s picked a careful, seasoned Dom to play with, one who isn’t offended in the least when I remind her of the club safewords and the fact that someone will have eyes on her every minute this evening.

  I step away and start my walk again, and I can tell by the spiking attention that I’m getting close to whatever awaits me.