Coveted (Pandora's Playground #1)

by Alannah Lynne

  “No,” she said on a deep exhale. Worried sick was more accurate given the nausea gurgling in her gut and the funny spin in her head. “You’ll be delighted to know I’m way beyond nervous.”

  His dark hair slipped over his shoulders and swung freely along his back as he tossed his head back, laughing. “You know me well, love.” After prying her fingers loose from his arm, he reached into his back pocket and retrieved a blindfold. Handing it to Mathew, he said, “Can you prepare our little victim, please?”

  Instinct—and good old-fashioned common sense—had her backing away. But when she looked at Mathew, really looked at him, and took in the warmth and barely contained excitement in his dark eyes, she stopped herself. Rather than taking another step away, she offered a small smile and stepped forward, toward him. She gulped as he stretched the blindfold to fit over her head, then latched onto his gaze and held it until the world went black.

  “Comfy?” he asked, his mouth close to her ear.

  She tilted her head to the side to expose more of her neck to his warm, caressing breath and inhaled sharply. She couldn’t remember ever standing this close to him, and she wanted to capture the moment, along with his fresh, clean scent, so it would be imprinted in her memory forever.

  Her voice was barely a whisper when she replied, “I’m getting there.”

  “Good.” She heard his throat work with a deep swallow before he added, “It only gets better from here.”

  Sweat broke out across her neck and forehead as the air around them grew dense and charged. She’d thought Lucas might be trying to mess with her head by implying Mathew would play with her—and doing a damn good job of it—but Mathew’s voice held a distinctly sexual edge that had her rethinking everything she thought she knew. Her body hummed with hope, while her mind started a tug-of-war.

  You’re not ready…

  Yes, I am. It’s been nearly a year. And I’m getting more ready every day.

  You’re afraid of Mathew…

  He can be intimidating, but if I’m afraid of anything, it’s how he makes me feel.

  He doesn’t like you…

  She used to think that was true, but she wasn’t so sure anymore. The expression he wore as he placed the blindfold over her eyes had been that of a man who very much liked what he saw. She just didn’t know what to make of that realization.

  Her mental haranguing jerked to a halt when the door to her right opened and Lucas wrapped his arm around her waist. “Keep step with me and you’ll be fine.”

  They turned into the deserted hallway leading to a vacant area that had once been dressing rooms. In the building’s past life, this would’ve been the heart of the theater, hustling and bustling with rushed excitement as actors made their way back and forth from the stage to the dressing rooms for costume changes. But in recent years, the rooms had either remained empty or been catch-all junk rooms, housing materials and equipment needing repairs or no longer in use.

  Without her sight, her other senses were enhanced and the smell of chlorine assaulted her nose, causing it to twitch. She also heard running water somewhere at the back of the building.

  “Did you put in a pool?” she asked as she turned her head, hoping to hear better. The movement caused her to lose her footing and trip, but Lucas had such a tight hold on her she barely lost step.

  “Keep walking,” he said, pulling her closer into his side. “You’ll see soon enough.”

  Another door opened, and the sound of rushing water—like a waterfall—became enhanced. Thick, humid air dampened her skin, and the scent of fresh dirt mingling with the chlorine added to her confusion and further disoriented her.

  As Lucas dragged her along, her heels clicked on what sounded like stone, and she slowed her steps, afraid of slipping on wet rocks.

  “You’re safe, Muriel. Mathew is on your other side, and we’d never let you fall.” He paused, then added, “I promise we’ll take care of you.” Another pause. “Do you trust us?”

  She nodded emphatically. “Absolutely.” It was a different kind of trust than she shared with Ian, but she could honestly say she trusted these men with her life.

  After taking another dozen steps, they stopped and Lucas stepped in front of her. Gently, so as to not pull her hair, he removed the blindfold.

  After a moment, when she didn’t open her eyes—because he hadn’t given her permission—he said, “You’ve always been such a good sub.” He brushed his knuckles across her cheek. “So sweet and filled with the desire to please.”

  Heat infused her at his murmured praise, and her soul basked in pleasure. Nothing gave her such complete satisfaction as serving, and it was one of the things she missed most with Ian gone. She enjoyed her job as a massage therapist, but it wasn’t the same as the empowering, euphoric pleasure she got from taking care of or giving herself to a man she loved.

  After another sweep of his hand, Lucas said, “Take a look, sweetheart.”

  Her eyes drifted open, and she gasped at the sight before her. She stumbled forward and struggled for air, then whispered, “Oh my God,” while rotating in a circle.

  Six small pools took up the majority of the room, each separated by a narrow, mossy walkway. The area was designed to look like a large Roman tub, fed by three waterfalls emerging from a stone wall at the back. Columns supported a large pagoda, which filled the rest of the space on the three open sides of the pools. Plants hung from crevices in the rock wall and filled large planters at the base of each column. Most of the potted plants were of the climbing variety and covered the pagoda. Several large statues filled in spaces here and there and acted as centerpieces for groupings of chairs and benches.

  “I’ve never seen anything so beautiful in my life.” She clasped her hands together at her heart, then swept away the tears streaking down her face. “It’s more magnificent than anything I could’ve imagined.”

  From the inception of the club, she’d tried to talk Ian into adding hot tubs so members could relax and unwind while easing sore muscles overworked from strenuous play. He’d scoffed at the idea in the beginning, then resorted to downright ignoring her whenever she brought up the subject. Eventually, she gave up and let the idea go.

  But someone had been listening, because what had once been a dusty cavernous part of the club was now a lush, tropical oasis. Her heart overflowed with gratitude—for them not only listening to her suggestion, but for taking it beyond her wildest imagination—as she turned to Mathew and Lucas.

  Lucas’s arms were crossed over his chest and he wore a wide, proud smile.

  Mathew’s hands were shoved in his pockets, and while his expression was less revealing, his voice was thick and rough with emotion when he said, “Happy birthday, Muriel.”

  My birthday?

  She’d been dreading her upcoming birthday. Ian always made a big deal out of the day, and she’d been painfully aware of how different it would be this year. Next Tuesday would be just another day for her to wake up alone, eat breakfast alone, then go off to work only to come home to an empty house. She couldn’t believe these two men had gone to such elaborate lengths to continue Ian’s tradition of making the event so memorable.

  But she was also confused.

  She turned and looked over her shoulder at the waterfall and glistening pools. “I thought you guys didn’t like the idea of hot tubs.”

  Lucas’s laugh was genuine, but his green eyes turned dark with shadows. “We thought it was a great idea all along.” He dropped his arms to his sides and stepped toward her. “We just needed time to figure out the logistics and start turning a profit before we took on a remodeling project of this magnitude.” His face tightened as he clamped down on the inside of his cheek and moisture glistened in his eyes.

  Stepping forward to stand beside Lucas, Mathew added, “Ian wanted this to be a surprise for you, which was why he always blew off the idea when you brought it up. We’d just settled on the design when he died.” He was working hard to get the words out, but aft
er a moment, he continued. “You were the most important thing in the world to him…” He glanced away, as if embarrassed by the cracks in his voice. “It’s been an honor to finish the project for him… for you.”

  For a moment, she thought she might collapse under the weight of the heavy, stifling ache that settled in her chest and made it nearly impossible to breathe. As she’d done many times over the past year when she needed support but had only herself on which to rely, she wrapped her arms around her waist and squeezed until the swampy emotions relaxed.

  “I’m so overwhelmed. I don’t know what to say. Thank you seems so small and insignificant.”

  “You don’t need to say anything.” Mathew smiled and shifted from one foot to the other. “But you’re welcome.”

  As his weight settled from one leg to the other, she realized he’d been blocking her view of a large portrait hanging on the wall next to the door. She gasped and grabbed onto his arm to keep herself upright as she stared at the familiar photo of her in a sheer, white dress, kneeling beside Ian, her head pressed to his thigh, his fingers buried in her hair.

  It wasn’t a professional portrait, but rather a snapshot someone had taken at her collaring ceremony, which was held the night before their wedding. She’d been experimenting with the lifestyle for a while, figuring out what it meant to her to be a submissive. She’d come to the conclusion she liked what she’d learned and wanted to make her role more official.

  As her wedding gift to Ian, she surprised him by inviting their lifestyle friends over for a party. She then slipped into the bedroom and changed into the sheer gown Loralei, Lucas’s then-wife, helped her pick out. Lucas helped Muriel get the collar made and was in charge of having Ian in position when the time came for her to present herself.

  She hadn’t had a plan as to how things would go, but as soon as she saw Ian standing by the fireplace, she followed her heart and did what felt natural—she dropped to her knees and hoped he understood she wanted her role as his submissive to be as formal as being his wife.

  “Ian kept that photo on his desk here at the club,” Lucas said, interrupting her thoughts. “Everyone who sees it is touched by its beauty and simplicity—and by the obvious love and adoration flowing between you.”

  He glanced to Mathew, who still held her steady but had his gaze firmly locked on the floor. “Considering this area will be used mostly for aftercare, it seemed like the perfect photo to set the mood for the space. But we can take it down if you’d rather not share it.”

  She felt raw and exposed, like she’d been stripped to nothing but bare nerve endings. But she also felt more loved than she had in a long time. A tear broke free from the corner of her eye and rolled down her cheek as she tried to gather herself.

  “I don’t mind sharing.” She laughed, then coughed as it threatened to turn into a sob. “That’s the least I can do. I have no words to express my gratitude. Not in this moment and…” She shrugged helplessly and looked around the room again, searching for adequate words. “I don’t know that I’ll ever be able to tell you how much this means. Or how much I love and appreciate you two.”

  Lucas, who often resorted to humor when dealing with tense situations, gave her a sly smile as his eyes brightened. “Would you like me to tell you where to start?”

  His tone and expression were light, and the comment could be taken as a joke, but she had a feeling he was throwing it out there to gauge her reaction. Much like he’d done with the questions pertaining to Mathew.

  She knew Lucas loved her, not in the way he’d loved his wife, but definitely more than a platonic friend. Mathew, however, was harder to figure out. She’d spent years thinking he couldn’t stand to be in the same room with her, but his expression while slipping on the blindfold made her wonder if she’d actually been blindfolded all along when it came to him.

  He could’ve gone through with the completion of this room out of a sense of duty to Ian. But the way he watched her, holding his breath, waiting for her reaction… He was more invested in the project than simply feeling obligated to see the job through.

  As for her… the compulsion to kneel before them and offer herself in whatever way they chose was so strong she had to lock her knees to stay upright.

  When she came here tonight, she had no intentions of playing. Then Lucas tossed out the idea of her playing with Mathew, and she slid down the scale from being opposed to curious and now felt like a revved-up engine being held back by a driver with both feet on the brakes.

  But she didn’t trust herself to make a good decision while so emotionally charged. She needed to sort through all that had happened in the past hour and get crystal clear on what she did and didn’t want, as well as what she could and couldn’t handle.

  Grinning at Lucas, hoping he understood she wasn’t saying no, but simply needed to sort things out, she said, “I need a minute to take all this in and catch my breath.”

  She started to walk away, then paused and turned back to the men. Stepping up to Lucas, she wrapped her arms around his neck and whispered, “Thank you.”

  He kissed her on the cheek and squeezed her. “You’re welcome, love. It’s been a pleasure to do this for you.”

  When he released her, she stepped over to Mathew but paused, giving him an opportunity to back away if he wanted. Instead, he stepped forward, wrapped his arms tightly around her, and pulled her close as he buried his face in the crook of her neck.

  Shocked by the rare display of affection, it took a minute to regain her wits and return the hug with equal enthusiasm. But then her mind turned into a trickster, and rather than standing in the club, she was snatched back in time…

  Standing on the doorstep of the home she shared with Ian… Mathew sharing the bad news that Ian had suddenly dropped dead on the tennis court… Them holding each other as they cried together.

  She didn’t want that between them tonight. She didn’t want to go back to that day, and she didn’t want to continue living under a black cloud. She’d spent months crying and dealing with the reality of her life. She’d gone through the various stages of grief multiple times, and she’d finally gotten to the other side. She was ready to move forward.

  And in that revelation, she found her answer for Lucas.

  She didn’t know what the future held. She’d learned the hard way plans weren’t a guaranteed certainty. But one thing she did know was she wanted to start living again.

  She eased back from Mathew’s tight embrace, but rather than break contact completely, she pressed her palm to his cheek and held his gaze. She wanted him to see her desire for him, and based on his dilated pupils and flaring nostrils, he read the signs perfectly.

  He swallowed sharply as she slid her palms down his chest, then left them there longer than would’ve been expected by someone who only wanted to be friends… at least the kind that kept their clothes on and never discovered what kind of underwear the other wore.

  “If I could have a minute to explore, it would be great. And then you can tell me exactly where you’d like me to start.”

  Chapter 6

  As Muriel turned away from Mathew, she took his breath with her, leaving him lightheaded, tight-chested, and so damned conflicted he couldn’t think straight.

  Dammit, Ian should be the one standing beside her, seeing the awe wash over her, wiping away her tears of gratitude, and receiving her appreciative hugs. But he wasn’t, and Mathew couldn’t deny he was grateful to have received those gifts.

  As she wandered around in a daze, walking on tiptoes as if in a sacred space, he sat on a bench and enjoyed the pleasure coursing through him.

  Once they’d gotten the permits and arranged the financing, he and Lucas had been driven by a burning need to finish the area in time for her birthday—just as Ian would’ve. But for Mathew, it became more personal than simply following through on what his friend started.

  Finishing wasn’t enough. Finishing to perfection became the overriding force in his life, consuming his th
oughts and eating up every available moment. Which was why he hadn’t been more in tune and aware of what was happening with Lili.

  While Muriel stopped at the edge of the walkway and slipped off her shoes, his gaze slid to the photo—the one he simultaneously loved and loathed. He’d never seen Ian happier or more in love than that night. While Mathew, on the other hand, had felt like someone shot an arrow through his heart. The ache, fueled by a desperate longing for what he could never have, hadn’t diminished over the years. Lucas was right. It was the perfect image for this space. But while Mathew managed to avoid looking at it on Ian’s desk, it was impossible to ignore here.

  He wasn’t a big believer in hearts and flowers and happily-ever-afters. He’d learned at an early age that bullshit was perpetuated by candy companies and greeting card makers. As an adult, he’d made a damn good living bailing out men who bought into the fantasy, only to have their loving spouses drag them down the street by their balls.

  His gaze slid to Lucas, a perfect example of someone who thought they’d found true love, only to have his wife turn around and try to destroy him simply for being himself.

  Yet despite Mathew’s personal beliefs and the number of times he’d seen men crushed by the spiked heel of their wife’s Louboutin, he would be the first to acknowledge Ian and Muriel would’ve been the exception. If Ian hadn’t died, he and Muriel would’ve lived out the fairytale.

  The photo served as a constant reminder of what Ian once had—and so richly deserved—and what Mathew would never experience. He had passion in spades and could fuck a woman until she thought she’d die of pleasure. But that’s where his ability to love stopped.

  And why it was such a goddamned shame Ian died that day instead of Mathew.

  He ground his palms against his eyes and fought the urge to growl… or cry. God, he missed Ian. He missed his laugh and smart mouth and the way he always knew exactly what to say. He missed knowing Ian was a phone call away, no matter the time of day.

  They’d been more like brothers than friends, and Ian’s family was the only one Mathew felt a part of, the only one he’d stayed in touch with as an adult. Even though his adoptive family paid a high price to take him off his birth mother’s hands, he’d spent most of his life alone, feeling every bit the bastard he was. All that changed when he met the Stewarts. They’d saved his life. But he hadn’t been able to do the same for Ian.