Chapter Eight
Lydia stood at Wilder’s door, her gaze downcast. He hadn’t consented to dropping protocol at work, so she had to wait for him to acknowledge her. Because she wasn’t thrilled about the idea of submitting at the office, she made compromises like this. She wouldn’t get on her knees, but she would wait unobtrusively for him to notice her.
Unlike her office, his was quite small—the smallest space in the building. Isla had told her it was due to the fact that he preferred to work from home. Macy Burke didn’t see the sense in wasting space on somebody who was rarely there.
It had a window with a view of the café across the street. Her office looked out on the other side, which had a large community park. He’d shoved his desk against that wall, which meant his back was to the entryway. Still, he seemed to know the moment she paused in his door.
“Come in, Pet. Let me finish this, and I’ll be right with you.” He indicated a chair pushed up against the wall next to him. She sat there. He tapped a few keys on his laptop, and then he swiveled his seat to face her. His knee brushed against her thigh, but he didn’t shift to sever the contact. She was glad. At home he almost never touched her except when ropes were involved. Those encounters invariably left her aching for more.
He dressed in jeans and a flannel shirt. The first few buttons were open to reveal the collar of the white cotton shirt he wore underneath. It clung to him, defining his shoulders, arms, and chest in a way that made him look like a displaced lumberjack. When he looked at her, those clear blue eyes seemed to see into her soul. The sounds of people in the hall and other offices faded.
“How can I help you?”
She had a request, and she wasn’t sure how he was going to take it. Over the past few days, they’d spent most of their time together. Even at the office, he stopped by frequently just to check on her. At home they shared meals that couldn’t help but be intimate. Afterward he would bind her. She hadn’t asked for a session since that first night. Curiously she was handling the stress better than she thought she would. Part of her wondered if she would feel the same way once the wish was finished and she was alone in the evenings. She didn’t feel like she had Master V to fall back on once this was over. He’d tried contacting her a few times, but she hadn’t responded to his queries. She didn’t want to confront him, but she couldn’t fool herself into thinking he wasn’t somehow acquainted with Wilder. She needed answers. Eventually she would have to find the courage to ask those delicate questions.
Taking a deep breath, she plunged in. “Sir, Isla and a bunch of other people are heading over to Elmhurst after work tonight.” It was a great chance to get to know people outside the work environment. Lydia had been strangely flattered to get the invitation. Everybody seemed to have accepted that she belonged to Wilder, at least temporarily.
“I know.” He smiled. “You have permission to take the night off.”
“You know?” Lydia frowned. Had Isla asked Wilder for permission before asking Lydia to join them, or had Wilder suggested the night out?
“Yeah.” He took her hands in his and massaged her palms with his thumbs. After he untied her every night, he invariably massaged any muscles he thought might be sore or tight. The man was gifted with his hands. Her shoulders relaxed a bit as he continued. “They do it every Friday. I was hoping you’d want to go.”
For someone who expressed hope, he didn’t look all that pleased, and he didn’t meet her eyes for more than two seconds before turning away.
“Sir, is something wrong?”
He shook his head. “Nope. Isla will make sure you get home safe and sound. We’ll suspend protocol until tomorrow. You’re free to have fun.”
“Thank you, Sir.”
* * * *
Elmhurst sounded like the name of a funeral home, but it turned out to be a restaurant that turned into a bar on weekend nights. Lydia had eaten lunch there once that week. The food was typical bar fare. Nothing fancy was happening in that kitchen. Still, it was one of the only places open in town after eight, so it earned the title of most popular hangout by default.
Isla had taken Lydia home to change into something more conducive to relaxing. She seemed disappointed when Lydia emerged from her room wearing jeans and a baggy tunic. It looked good, but it wasn’t sexy by any stretch of the imagination. If Wilder was going to be there, she might have switched out the jeans for leggings, and she would probably have chosen high heels instead of flats. She didn’t need Master V to clarify the situation. Her wish would be over very soon, and she had a limited amount of time to make an impression on Wilder.
The inside of Elmhurst showed its ancient bones. Naked brick lined the walls on both sides. The front was mostly glass, and the back was blocked off with a cinder-block wall painted dark green. As she got closer, Lydia realized it was a mural of how the mountainside would look in summer.
The long room was set up with a bar lining one wall and tables lining the other. When she’d visited earlier in the week, the floor had been full of tables. Now seating was limited, and a makeshift stage was set up under the front windows.
“Karaoke.”
Lydia looked to see if Isla wore the trademark smile that showed she was kidding. Nope. Just the normal grin. Lydia shook her head. “No. No way. Don’t even think about it.”
She sang passably well, but not in front of other people. Humming a tune or warbling in the shower was just a nice way to enjoy the time. It occupied her mind and kept her worries from taking over.
Isla grinned evilly, but she didn’t reply.
“You’re here!” Eva, the head of building security, grabbed Lydia’s arm. “You made it through the first week. Let’s celebrate.”
She shoved a long-necked bottle of beer into Lydia’s hand.
“Try this. You’ll never have anything good between your lips again.” Eva leaned closer. “No matter what your Dom says. This is better.”
Isla rolled her eyes. “Eva’s family owns a brewery just outside town.”
For some reason, that didn’t make Lydia keen to try the liquid. Feigning enthusiasm, she took a sip. The smooth wheat washed over her palate and left behind a pleasant aftertaste. “It’s good.”
Her surprise must have shown in her voice because Eva laughed. “Never doubt me.” She handed another bottle to Isla and led the pair to a table three other Oasis employees had already claimed.
They were welcomed warmly. Time, wheat ale, and conversation flowed. After her second beer, Isla slapped the table. “Let’s play Kiss, Kill, or Fuck.”
Lydia had never heard of the game, but the others at the table all scooted closer, eager expression on their faces. It didn’t sound like a drinking game, but Eva signaled the waiter for another round, so Lydia wasn’t sure.
“I’ll go first,” Isla decreed. “John Wayne. Kiss. He was probably a Dom, so fucking is out of the question.”
Eva seemed to consider this. “A younger John Wayne, maybe. Kiss.”
The three women Lydia didn’t know very well, Jessalyn, Sydney, and Sara, agreed they’d kiss John Wayne. Then they stared expectantly at Lydia. She’d never found the man attractive, but she harbored no ill will toward him.
“Um, none of the above?”
Isla seemed to consider this. “That would be kiss, then.”
Sydney leaned forward. The tall brunette might have been Mexican or Asian, possibly mixed. Lydia couldn’t tell and didn’t want to make assumptions. She was African American with a little Puerto Rican and Filipino mixed in. While she wasn’t sensitive about people assuming she was just African American, her sister and her mother were, so Lydia had learned to tiptoe. Whatever the case, Sydney had a sultry, exotic beauty that drew many second and third glances from the men in the room. “Halle Berry. Fuck. Repeatedly.”
Jessalyn chose kiss. Lydia had never considered kissing a woman before. She shrugged. “Kiss.”
Sara snorted. “After Catwoman? Kill.”
Eva laughed. “After Catwoman? Fuc
k.” Her eyes sparkled with her next idea. “Tom Brady. Fuck.”
Sydney and Jessalyn agreed.
This time Isla laughed. “Definitely fuck. That man’s a sub in disguise if I’ve ever seen one.”
Lydia wrinkled her nose. “Kill. I’m a Lions fan, through and through. If I had to go somewhere else, I’d pick Green Bay. I’d kiss Aaron Rodgers. I think he’s too vanilla for more.”
The silent, speculative stares made Lydia squirm, but she held fast to her conviction. Finally they all burst out laughing. Sara smacked her on the arm. “I like you.”
They played another round of the game, but the conversation meandered. Every once in a while, someone would throw out a celebrity’s name, and they’d all vote. Lydia even got in on the action with her personal favorite, Denzel Washington. His vote was unanimous. Even Isla didn’t care whether he was a Dom or a sub or neither.
The evening was turning out to be a lot of fun, except something felt off. It didn’t take long for Lydia to realize that perhaps she’d hurt Wilder’s feelings when she’d indicated she wanted to spend the evening with new friends. Had he wanted to be invited along? She really couldn’t see him being as loud and raunchy as they were being.
Just as she was thinking about him, Wilder appeared. She saw his shoulder first. It was just a glimpse through the crowd. Then she caught sight of the back of his head. Joy surged through her chest, but chagrin quickly tamped it down. Elmhurst was the only hangout in town. Had he come to check up on her?
But when he turned, Lydia realized her mistake. It was Everett, not Wilder. He scanned the room, probably looking for an open table. He found Lydia’s group instead. With a wide grin on his face, he closed the distance, stopping just behind Jessalyn’s chair.
“Well, hello, ladies! Fancy meeting you here.”
Isla narrowed her eyes, but the effect was ruined by her tipsy, lopsided grin. “Ain’t nothing fancy about it, Ever Burke. Did you come here to make eyes at me, or did you wanna sing?”
Everett laughed, his carefree spirit shining from his green eyes. “As much as you light up my life, I was hoping to break in a new partner.” He knelt next to Lydia’s seat and put his arm around her shoulder, pulling her toward him. Leaning in close, he lowered his voice. “Can you give me a cute smile and maybe look down and blush, like I’m talking dirty to you and you’re enjoying it?”
Shocked, she turned a puzzled stare on Everett. “Why would I do that?”
He gave her a sexy smile that would have set her heart to fluttering if she had never met Wilder. “Because my brother is about to come in that door, and he’ll immediately see you and me. He’s going to bust a nut.”
Lydia had no idea how Wilder might react, but she didn’t like the idea of being dishonest or deceitful. “I don’t think he’d care, not that I’m giving you an invitation or anything. Wilder and I don’t have that kind of relationship.”
Ever lifted his brows in amusement, and she was struck by how different the brothers were from each other. “No? Well, when you get tired of that, there are plenty of men around here who are less scrupulous.”
She laughed at the way he waggled his brows. “I take it you lack scruples?”
“It’s what makes me the fun brother.” He made ready to fake-leer toward her, but Eva smacked him on the shoulder.
“Knock it off, Ever. I’ve got a leash in my car, and I’m not afraid to use it. A whip too.” She did her best to keep her expression firm, but Lydia could tell it was a struggle. Everett was too charming for her to pull it off.
He switched trajectory and leaned closer to Eva. “If I didn’t think Pete would kill me for it, I’d show you what I can do with a leash and a whip.”
His low tone carried across the table, affecting everyone except Isla, who rolled her eyes. Lydia shivered at the inherent promise, but she wished it were Wilder making the threat.
Eva shook her head. “Ever, you know I tell Pete everything.”
Lydia thought back to their verbal game of Kiss, Kill, or Fuck and wondered how Pete would react to knowing he had competition in the form of Tom Brady.
“I’m counting on it.” Everett’s smile grew. “It makes him lose on poker night.”
The flirty happiness fell from his face, and his entire demeanor grew somber. Lydia looked to see where he was staring. His gaze had landed on a petite Asian woman on the dance floor swaying in time to the music. Her dance partner held her close with his hands on her waist. Ever’s lips twisted in a bitter frown for a second before he composed himself.
“Ladies, I’ll leave you to it. Have a great night.” He rose to his feet and headed back to his table, shouldering through the crowd in such a way that he knocked aggressively into the male half of the dancing pair.
The guy threw a nasty look over his shoulder, and Ever met the challenge with a bearlike growl. The air crackled with testosterone until Micah and Jude appeared. They snagged Ever, one at each elbow, and dragged him away. The woman put her hand on her partner’s cheek and turned his attention back to her.
“Mmmm,” Sara said. “Strawberry Ice is in the house.”
Lydia turned to Eva. She didn’t know what Sara was talking about, but it didn’t seem to be related. “What was that about?”
Eva frowned. “Mina Sung. She dated Ever until she found out he was into kink. Then she dropped him. Didn’t even tell him to his face. He found out by running into her while she was on a date with another guy. Didn’t end well, but it could have been worse. Good thing Wilder was there. Ever might be all flirty and charming, but he has a quick temper. Wilder tends to be the levelheaded one.”
Lydia’s sympathy went out to Everett. His heart was broken. “That’s so sad. How long ago was this?” From the way Ever reacted, not that much time could have elapsed.
“Six, seven years? It’s been a while. He should be over her by now.”
Sydney looked as confused as Lydia felt. She had only come to Oasis the year before.
Jessalyn leaned forward. “I thought she moved to California for a job.”
Isla shrugged. “She did. I haven’t heard about her moving back, but her family is here, so it makes sense she’d visit. I wonder who she’s with?”
Sara shook her head, her blonde mane of curls rippling down her back. “Medium-height blond dude with a surfer’s tan in October. Probably imported from California. Ever can do better. He’ll find the right sub for him one day.”
“C’mon.” Isla got to her feet. “Let’s find our boys and make sure they’re not getting into trouble.”
“Yeah,” Jessalyn said. “And they’ve got better seats. Karaoke is about to start.”
Lydia followed them to the front of the pub where they found Everett sitting on a bench next to Wilder, and Micah and Jude sitting across the table from them.
The women of Oasis tightened formation. All flirting and joking aside, Lydia realized the depth of their loyalty to their friend. Micah hadn’t been kidding when he’d told her that Oasis was one big family.
Jessalyn and Eva slid on the bench with Micah and Jude. Sara and Isla squeezed in with Wilder and Everett. The way the men moved over, it looked like they’d expected the number of people at their table to suddenly double. Sydney seized the only chair nearby and dragged it over.
Standing behind Wilder, Lydia sized up her options. The benches weren’t meant to hold four, and they definitely weren’t going to hold five.
Everett reached for her, grabbing her wrist with a sure grip. “I have room for you right here.”
She wasn't sure how he was going to manage that. She looked around again, trying to figure out what he meant.
He pulled her between him and Wilder, but there was no room for either man to move over. Though she tried to turn her body to brace herself, the momentum Everett generated propelled her, headfirst, over their shoulders. She grabbed for Wilder’s arm to help her stay on her feet, but Everett twisted, grabbed her thigh, and pushed, finishing the flip. When the world stopped moving, sh
e found herself sprawled across both their laps.
Wilder stared down at her, his gaze flying over her face and body. “Are you okay?”
She nodded and tried to get up, but he pulled her away from Everett completely onto his lap. “Sorry. You okay?”
“Fine.” He smiled at her, but that turned to a glare when he regarded his brother.
Everett winked. “Didn’t hit the table at all. She’s good.”
Lydia sat up straighter, ready to defend herself. She wasn’t the one who had instigated that little stunt. Sure, she wanted to be close to Wilder. Sitting on his lap with the feel of his strong thighs under hers and the scent of his aftershave filling her senses was her idea of heaven. But Wilder had given her the night off and sat at the other end of the restaurant. That didn’t indicate he wanted the same thing, and it was counter to the rules of their relationship.
She didn’t know why Everett wanted to get under Wilder’s skin, but she wasn’t willing to be a pawn in their sibling sparring match. Setting her jaw firmly, she poked his arm with a furious finger. “Not funny, Everett.”
Wilder snatched her hand, enveloping it with his own and holding it prisoner on her leg. His other arm wrapped around her waist and lifted.
She scrambled to remove her unwanted body from his lap, but his hold tightened. “Relax. I’m just moving you a little to the side.”
IF SHE WIGGLED on his lap for much longer, she was going to be sitting on an impressive erection. Under different circumstances, he might pull her closer and grind against her wickedly sexy ass. However, he’d agreed to abide by certain rules, and those rules precluded that kind of behavior.
Wilder set her on his leg and stroked his hand along her arm to calm her down. Her eyes breathed fire, showing a hint of that passion he sorely missed.
This particular move was one he and Ever had practiced over and over in high school. There was an art to pulling a woman so that she fell just right and nobody got hurt. Given the way Eva looked away and tried to hide her smile, she was no doubt remembering how long she’d spent helping them perfect the move. He appreciated his brother’s concern, but he wished Ever would just leave well enough alone. They could get more chairs for the table.
Wanting Wilder (Safe Word: Oasis) Page 14