by Cara Adams
“A little grumpy, are we?”
“Not really. I’ve spent most of the last two hours trying to plan how to make love to her.”
Asher lowered his voice to as soft as he could make it, knowing the wolf’s excellent hearing would mean he was understood. “With some hints of BDSM, I hope.”
“Absolutely.”
“Excellent. The last two workshops were a dead loss from our employer’s perspective for me and I didn’t even have the opportunity to think about tonight.”
Ninety minutes later, Asher stared at the pages of notes he’d scribbled in his notepad. The speaker had been sensational, well worth the conference registration fee on her own. And that was without the knowledge they’d found their woman even if they still had to convince her of that fact and woo her and stuff.
“We need to be watching out for Ryia right now, but there’s a passel of stuff in there we ought to tell Leif and Simon,” Elijah said softly.
“Yes. I’ll send Leif an e-mail later with the speaker’s name and her key points, but right now we need to be alert for Ryia. There’s two hours’ break before the formal dinner and I bet she’ll want to type up her notes again or whatever it is she does.”
“Hey, no problem. That’ll give you time to e-mail Leif and Simon.”
Asher considered flipping Elijah the bird for that comment but decided he’d better watch his manners instead. They both stood and waited at the back of the ballroom. He couldn’t see Ryia, but that was because so many people were standing up and moving around. She was wearing a pale shirt, blue he thought, and he’d watch for a flash of the correct color as well as for her.
He saw Phoenix go past, still surrounded by chattering women, but none of them was Ryia. And then he saw her, still in her seat, writing. Damn, that woman works too hard.
Elijah began moving through the rows of seats, avoiding the crowded center aisle, working his way toward Ryia. Asher thought it might be better for him to wait here in case Elijah didn’t get to her before she began to leave the room. He kept his gaze mainly on her, only occasionally watching Elijah’s progress, but she showed no signs of moving, flipping through her pages of notes and adding extra comments as she went. She took this conference so seriously, it must have meant a lot to her. Perhaps it was the first business convention she’d ever attended. Maybe he’d ask her if it was, tonight. He was conscious of the dungeon allowing him paid time off to be here, but he was certain they’d be happy with the information he’d gathered so far as payment in lieu of him being at work. But Ryia. It was almost as though she was studying as if her entire future depended on passing some pop test on the convention. Having her own store must be incredibly important to her.
Elijah sat on the empty chair beside her and she looked up and smiled at him, but then continued her writing, riffling through the pages of her notebook several times and scribbling some more. When she finally stood up, most of the people had left the ballroom, so Asher made his way toward them easily.
“You didn’t need to wait for me,” she said.
“But we’ve looked forward to talking to you some more. Did you get everything done you wanted to before?” he asked.
“Oh yes, thank you. There’s so much wonderful information. I know I’ll forget half of it if I don’t write it all down.”
“But we have two hours of free time now before the formal dinner. Would you like to come with us for a cup of coffee or something?” asked Elijah.
“Most of the women will take that long to get ready for tonight. They’re going to do their nails and things like that.”
“And what about you?” asked Asher.
She looked down at her nails. “I might buy some of that scented nail polish in the exhibition room I suppose.”
“We’ll come with you.” Asher moved right beside her and she gave him a worried look and remained still.
“I’m not—I mean I don’t—I haven’t—” There was a long silence and then she stood straighter and said, “I haven’t made any promises to either of you. I’ve never done…you know, like last night…ever before. I’m not that kind of person even though I own an adult store.”
“We know that and understand,” said Elijah.
“We won’t be asking anything of you that you don’t want to give. We’ll simply accompany you, buy you coffee, maybe dance with you tonight at the dinner. And if that’s all you are prepared to offer us we’ll completely accept that,” said Asher. Not that he wasn’t hoping she’d agree to a hell of a lot more than coffee and maybe a dance. But he meant what he said. Neither he nor Elijah would ever force a woman to do something she didn’t want to. Hell, that’s why there were safe words in BDSM scenes. Even when a sub agreed to a scene, she still had the means to change her mind at the last minute. And Ryia meant a whole lot more to him than any sub had ever done.
* * * *
Ryia stared at herself in the mirror in her hotel room. She’d bought this dress online. She’d tried it on immediately it’d been delivered to check it fit her properly and fortunately it did. She’d been worried that perhaps she needed a larger size but she’d measured her upper arms as well as the rest of her, and she was well within the measurements for the size she’d bought it and it fit. It looked pretty. She had to acknowledge that. The dress was a sort of gold-verging-on-ocher, a slightly different color, but one she hoped wouldn’t make her look even fatter than she was. From what she could see in the mirror here, her ass looked no bigger than usual in it, and the front hugged her breasts, which were likely her best feature.
She smiled at her nails. She’d bought two colors of scented polish, Orgasmic Orange and Stunning Strawberry. Again, she’d worried that the orange would look trashy and loud on her nails tonight and unsuitable for a formal dinner, but the color was perfect with her dress and not loud at all, so that made her happy.
Ryia slid her feet into her stilettos and picked up her purse, a tiny gold one which wouldn’t hold much more than lipstick, a cell phone, and her room key, but she managed to slide a pen and three tightly folded up sheets of notepaper into it as well, in case the after-dinner speaker said anything she wanted to add to her conference notes. It was supposed to be a lighthearted evening, but still, best to be prepared, she felt.
Right on cue there was a knock on her door. She’d had to think hard before agreeing to let Asher and Elijah know her room number. The idea of having two men escort her to the formal dinner was a heady one. Quite a few of the people she’d spoken to were bringing a partner tonight, and she couldn’t even remember the last time she’d attended a special meal. Likely not since her so-called wedding.
I will not think of that tonight. Tonight is about me.
She opened her door to Elijah and Asher. Damn, they looked good. Both were wearing tuxedos, and both looked so tall, muscular, and so damn magnificent she was almost ready to jump into bed with them right now. Asher’s blond hair looked stunning against the black suit, and Elijah’s brown eyes were sparkling and full of lust as he stared at her. Yeah. She was feeling about the same.
“You’re beautiful. May I kiss you?” Elijah touched her arm lightly.
Obediently she lifted her lips to his and then she was lost. He kissed her softly and sweetly, but it was the headiest, most erotic kiss imaginable. He poured passion into her until her legs wobbled with the need to be fucked.
When he lifted his lips, she had to blink hard to regain the real world. “Oh, my. Now that was a kiss.”
“In that case, I’d better not compete.” Asher picked up her hand and pressed a light kiss to her wrist.
“That reminds me. I have a gift for you.” Elijah reached into his suit pocket and pulled out a tiny parcel.
Surprised, Ryia opened it to reveal a bottle of perfume. “No one has ever given me perfume before.”
“I hope you like the scent. The lady in the store recommended it and I thought it smelled nice.”
She unscrewed the top of the bottle and sniffed. It was nice. Happily
she dabbed a little on both wrists. “I do like it. There’s rose and jasmine, and something else as well. Orange perhaps and maybe vanilla. I’m not sure. Thank you so much.” She carefully put the bottle in her luggage, and then closed the door of her room.
There was already a crowd waiting for the elevator, and when it arrived it was full already.
“We could take the stairs.” She wondered if that was an unladylike suggestion. She was used to standing and walking around all day and today she’d spent most of her time sitting.
“That’s what we’ve been doing, but you’re the one with the high heels. Are you all right on the stairs in them?” asked Asher.
“Yes. I should be fine. It’s only a few floors to go down.”
At the entrance to the ballroom was a security guard checking everyone’s lanyards. “I know they told us we had to wear them all the time, but this is the first time mine’s been checked,” she whispered to Elijah.
“I expect they don’t really care if a couple of people who haven’t paid listen to the speakers, but for the formal dinner there’ll only be the correct number of table settings,” he replied.
Ryia blushed. She should have thought of that herself. It just showed how ignorant she was of polite society.
The guard marked their names off his list and said, “You can sit wherever you like except for the two reserved tables, ma’am, sirs.”
“Thank you.” She and the two men answered in a chorus, making her smile.
Inside the room had been rearranged, the tables covered with deep green table cloths and the chairs encased in the same deep green fabric, making everything look very different from just a few hours ago.
Asher turned to her. “Where would you like to sit? Is the back left your favorite place or are meals different from lectures?”
“Back left, please.”
She chose the chair that seated her with her back to the wall and the men sat either side of her.
“Why the back left? I’m not criticizing. Anywhere you want to be is fine by me. I’m just curious,” asked Elijah.
“I like the back so I can leave inconspicuously if I want to. The left is because most people look right and turn right when they enter a room. Most people are right handed and that’s the way they move. That means the right side is more likely to be crowded and the left have more space.”
“I never knew that. How did you find out?” asked Asher.
“I read it in an article about arranging stock. The things the store manager most wants to sell need to be on the ends of the aisles. However, the store can refine that even more by arranging the stock so the average person, who turns right upon entering the store, is more likely to encounter the items I want most to move.”
The conversation flowed between the three of them all evening. The food was the most delicious Ryia could ever remember tasting. Each dish was beautifully presented, almost like an artwork, but it wasn’t just pretty to look at. Every item on the plate was cooked to perfection as well. She was very hungry, having had only water during the day because she knew there’d be a big meal at night and she needed to save all her calories for that. But even so, Ryia was certain she’d have enjoyed the food even if she hadn’t been hungry. It was a feast for all the senses, not just the palate.
She was also relieved that the people on their table seemed to be very friendly. There was a lot of cross-table banter during the evening as they laughed at jokes and commented on the various awards, some of which were serious and some humorous. Their tablemates constantly raved about the delicious meal as well.
“Oh my God, that peanut-butter cheesecake was divine. I’d kill for a second serving,” said one man.
“Just don’t kill the chef. We get more food again tomorrow, remember,” replied one of their other table companions, as everyone else laughed.
“Which workshops are you planning to attend tomorrow?” Asher asked the table in general, starting another lively conversation.
Ryia watched each person as they spoke, seldom contributing any comments unless directly asked, but loving every moment of the shared fun.
“What about you, Ryia?” asked Violet, the woman sitting opposite her, a friend of Phoenix’s.
“The website development one. I was really fascinated by the earlier speaker who said that many of the developments on the internet were driven by the adult industry. That the adult industry was the first non-government enterprise to really make full use of the internet. It made me realize my website is likely too basic and needs some help.”
“Did you have it professionally designed?” asked one man.
“Has it got a decent shopping cart?” asked the one who’d mentioned the cheesecake.
“Yes, and yes, but I had it made when I first started the store. The store has expanded and developed and likely the website should as well.”
Once again the conversation became general as people spoke about their own websites.
Ryia relaxed and sat back. She’d never been part of conversations like this before. Likely there’d been occasions when she could have while she was at college, but she’d been totally focused on learning as much as she could and passing her course so she could open her store. But this was what her new life should look like. Her, with friends, going to events, eating nice meals in pleasant surroundings, and making new friends among people with similar interests to hers.
Not that Asher and Elijah would likely even remember her name in a week or two. This was strictly a weekend romance. But that wouldn’t stop her going to bed with them again tonight, if they asked her. Already she craved their touch like an addict craved drugs.
Chapter Six
Elijah had spent hours during the day, while attending sessions he found totally unrelated to and unhelpful for his job, planning how to romance Ryia. He wanted something that hinted at BDSM without being strong enough to frighten her. Half of the power of BDSM was what happened in the sub’s head during the scene. Even though Ryia was not a sub, not theirs—yet—or anyone else’s, she was a very intelligent woman with some knowledge of the genre. Therefore he could rely on her clever mind absorbing and working through whatever challenges he and Asher gave her.
He hoped she’d agree to being handcuffed. He had a lovely pair of purple fluffy handcuffs that would look perfect on her delicate wrists. Apart from that, whatever happened needed to be in the staging of the scene. He wasn’t even convinced she’d let him spank her. He really needed to know a hell of a lot more about the ex. Had he physically abused her? Was he someone in the lifestyle who’d tried to get her to participate and become abusive when she’d declined? He could make some terrible errors if he didn’t know the truth about her. Apart from that, she fascinated him and he simply wanted to know all about her because he cared for her. And he knew the same was true of Asher. They understood each other so well almost all the time. He could frequently guess what Asher would want to do. Not invariably. Every now and then the man slammed him with a surprise right out of left field. But mostly they were tuned to the same wavelength.
After the speeches, a band began to play and many people went out onto the dance floor. A lot of people weren’t accompanied by a partner and danced with a friend of the same gender, or alone. Other people table-hopped to talk to friends or continue networking. Or simply to sit and drink. Elijah offered his arm to Ryia. “Would you like to dance?”
“No, thank you. I won’t mind if you go ask someone else.”
“What about me? Will you dance with me then, please?” asked Asher. Elijah knew he had on his best “I’m so sweet and harmless” look on his face. That floppy blond hair and those big blue eyes helped him get away with a hell of a lot more than Elijah ever managed to do.
Again Ryia shook her head.
“Why not?” asked Elijah.
She seemed a little embarrassed then straightened her spine in a manner he was coming to recognize. “I don’t know how to dance and I don’t want to just stand and wiggle on a dance flo
or. But as I said, I’ll be perfectly happy to sit and watch if you both wish to dance with someone else.”
“You don’t need to know how to dance. This isn’t a competition,” said Asher.
Ryia just smiled.
This might be a time when I can learn more about her. “I thought everyone had compulsory dance lessons before the prom. I can remember being dragged along kicking and screaming to dance lessons. And then I learned we had to wear neckties and dress pants and leather shoes. I felt sure my parents would refuse to buy me all that stuff and I’d get out of going to the lessons, but my mom drove me straight down to the store and picked out a passel of clothing and told me to go get dressed,” said Elijah.
“Hell, yes. I’d forgotten that. Kids were phoning their moms and begging them to come back and bring them button-down shirts and neckties at the first session. There was like, twenty kids standing out front of the dance studio all on their cell phones to their moms,” said Asher.
“How did you avoid dancing at your prom?” The question was burning a hole in Elijah’s brain.
“I didn’t graduate high school. I left just before the end of my junior year.”
It seemed like she’d missed out most of the story so Elijah waited for her to finish telling it.
“My dad was very ill,” Ryia said softly.
“And you had to nurse him? Your mom couldn’t get time off work?”
“My mom left when I was ten. She fell in love with a man who wasn’t interested in kids, but I was happy staying with my dad anyway.”
That’s right. She’d seemed sad when she mentioned her mom and the perfume to him earlier on. Now he knew what had saddened her.
“Did he recover?” Asher asked softly as he reached for her hand.
She shook her head. “He was only ill for a few months before he died. The cancer was too advanced for there to be any hope for him. That’s why—”
Elijah took her other hand, gently stroking his thumb over her skin as he waited for her to finish her sentence.