Noise—excited talking and loud zydeco music—crashed into them.
“What an amazing turnout!” Shelby said.
Not that they should be surprised. The pair had become something of a local celebrity. Originally Mason had planned to host the watch party at his house, but when over a hundred people requested an invitation, his advisor, John Thoroughgood, had sought out a larger venue and settled on his favorite neighborhood haunt. In Trevor’s opinion, it was the perfect choice. The place, renowned for its down-home cooking, was a historic treasure and a fitting place for a renovation show.
From a place near the largest television, Fiona waved to them.
“She said she was going to save us a place,” Shelby said.
Trevor nodded and reached for her hand, determined not to lose her in the crush of people.
Winning her back had been the best thing that ever happened to him. The months since they reconciled had been good ones. She was now spending most weekends with him, and on each visit she left more of her belongings at his place. If he had his way, she’d move in permanently.
Early on, he made the mistake of pushing for that, and it had led to one of their very first arguments. Since then, he’d focused on celebrating the small hard-earned wins, including the fact that she was actively seeking out more corporate work. She never intended to stop mediating divorces, especially if there were children involved, but she wanted to focus less time on the messy endings to marriages.
They passed an enormous buffet filled with fried goodness—shrimp, okra, hushpuppies, even oysters. There were even huge plates of bread pudding swimming in brandy sauce.
“Mason and Hannah are over there,” Shelby shouted.
Because the people Hannah and Mason had been speaking with walked toward a vacant table, Trevor and Shelby took the opportunity to join the couple.
“Congratulations, Mason. Couldn’t be happier for you.” Trevor shook his friend’s hand while Shelby hugged Hannah.
“Glad you were able make it.”
“Wouldn’t miss your big moment.” He knew how hard his friend worked, from early morning to late night, seven days a week. He didn’t even stop for weekends, and he recently made an appearance at David’s law office to be sure the work on the third floor had been completed to his company’s standards. “You should be damn proud.”
Mason glanced at Hannah. As he grinned, she cradled her stomach. “We are proud. About a lot of things.”
“Oh?”
“Are you kidding me?” Shelby squealed and swept Hannah into another huge hug.
“Am I missing something?” Trevor asked.
“We’ve got a second production underway.”
“You…?”
“We’re expecting. It was a surprise. But a happy surprise.” Mason was grinning like a total fool.
“Congratulations, again. Definitely a night for celebration.”
“Now that she’s designing the nursery, maybe she’ll damn well agree to a wedding date. I thought getting her to accept my proposal was a challenge, but that was nothing compared to getting her to commit to the actual ceremony.”
That, Trevor could relate to. He looked at Shelby. Her expression was hidden by her long hair, but her actions were animated.
The night he’d won her back had been the happiest of his life, and yet… He was greedy. Restless… Agitated.
Once again.
No other woman had ever brought out this depth of emotion in him. He knew he needed to be patient, but each day was becoming more difficult.
As if sensing his scrutiny, Shelby turned toward him. She brushed back her hair, and when he perused her, lingering on her belly, something hot and primal seared him. He wanted her pregnant with his child.
Jesus.
He’d thought about kids before, but it had been in vague terms—but now it was real, a demanding need.
Shelby frowned a little, and she reached out to gently touch his forearm.
“Five minutes until the top of the hour!” John Thoroughgood’s massive voice was amplified by a microphone and reverberated through the room. He signaled for the music to be silenced.
“Bar’s open,” Mason said. “Thoroughgood’s picking up the tab, so drink up.”
Cheers erupted through the room.
Other people were waiting to talk to Hannah and Mason, so Trevor guided Shelby to the table where Fiona was waiting with Nicole and Gavin.
After everyone said hello, shouting to be heard over the raucous crowd, Trevor poured them each a glass of champagne from the bottle Fiona had ordered.
“I figured it was a night for celebration.”
Trevor couldn’t agree more.
“Allow me to present the man and woman of the hour!” Thoroughgood continued. “Mason and Hannah!”
Among raucous cheers, the couple wended their way through the crowd. When they reached the front of the room, they flanked a gigantic television and took a bow.
Thoroughgood turned up the volume as a montage of shots flashed across the screen: homes in various stages of renovation, a picture of David’s law offices, and even a brief snippet of Mason’s mom marrying Norman.
The gathered crowed hooted and hollered, cheering at familiar sites throughout the city.
Then a picture of the house that Mason’s mother had purchased, and the name of the episode scrolled across the bottom of the screen: Pop the Top. Hannah had suggested that Judith double the size of the home by raising the roof, and the producers decided that was the renovation that would serve as the show’s debut.
Once the narrator began talking and people quieted down, Trevor and Shelby made their way to Fiona’s table, and David was there too.
“You’re famous!” Shelby told him.
“A one-second shot in the opening credits doesn’t make me famous.”
“It’s a start,” she protested loyally.
After everyone exchanged greetings, Trevor offered to make a trip to the bar. “Wine, Shel?”
“One.”
Fierce possession grabbed him. Her answer indicated she might want to scene this evening, and he was suddenly impatient to get her out of here.
Fiona asked for a hurricane, and David said he didn’t need a refill on the whiskey he was sipping.
When Trevor returned to the table, Shelby pulled her chair closer to his and snuggled up against him as she accepted her drink. He should be satisfied with her affection, but his earlier agitation still weighed on him.
“Is everything okay?” Shelby asked.
He took a drink of the beer he’d ordered. “Impatient to be alone with you.” That much was the truth—or part of it, at least.
“I want that too. And there’s something else I’ve been wanting to talk to you about.”
“Oh?” Absently he stroked her bare arm, and that touch, the connection, temporarily soothed him.
“When we get home?”
Because this was not the time or the place to discuss anything private, he nodded. Maybe it was too much to hope, but perhaps Hannah’s news had affected her as well. He could hope so, at least.
On a commercial break, Hannah and Fiona huddled together, and he caught snippets of their conversation, including mentions of a baby shower and whether or not men would be invited.
“Oh hell no,” David said, jumping into their discussion.
Fiona tapped her temple, as if deep in thought. “The men can have a diaper-changing competition.”
Shelby lifted her glass in a mock toast. “Great suggestion.”
David shuddered, and Trevor took a drink of beer to hide his grin.
“What do you think, Trevor?” Fiona asked.
“Is there a prize? I helped raised twin sisters. Pretty sure I’ll blow everyone else away.”
“Come on, man,” David protested. “How about a little solidarity here?”
“You’re on your own.” He leveled his gaze on Shelby. “Staying in practice is always a good thing.”
Shelby�
�s mouth opened a little, but she didn’t say a word.
The television show returned, at a point of high drama. A terrible storm that swept through New Orleans caused issues with raising the roof.
At the end of the broadcast, everyone burst into a round of applause, and it was another half an hour before Trevor and Shelby were able to say the last of their goodbyes and escape into the cool autumn air.
When they worked their way free from traffic and headed toward Lake Catherine, Shelby turned down the country music song playing on the radio and faced him. “What did you mean about staying in practice? You know, when we were talking about the diaper-changing competition.”
“A long time ago, you asked if I wanted children.”
“I remember. We were at your house. When you were holding a condom.”
After she’d had a bad day in mediation. Instead of filling the silence, he carefully considered his next words. Pushing her too far may make her pull away. “I told you then that I hadn’t met the right woman.”
“And?” Shelby’s question was breathless, a little high-pitched.
“I’ve met the right woman. We just need the right time.” He grasped the steering wheel harder. “No hurry.”
“You…?”
“Yeah.” Up ahead was a small shopping center, so he turned on the blinker and eased off the road and parked beneath a tall lamppost. “I’m ready for everything. A wedding. Babies.”
“Babies? Plural? Babies?”
“I’m open to negotiation on the exact number.”
She blinked. Generally when they talked about marriage, she changed the subject or betrayed her emotions by fidgeting. This time she didn’t take her gaze from his.
“The timing has to be right for both partners. I’m willing to wait.”
“You’ve been patient.”
Even though it wasn’t always easy, Shelby was worth the effort.
She took a deep breath then expelled it in a slow, steady measure. “I’ve been thinking about it for a while, and then this evening I saw the way you congratulated Mason. Then… You had me at diaper-changing competition. You’re steady. My anchor. I’m ready to start making plans with you.”
“Do you mean it?” Trevor captured her chin. “Like moving in? Marriage? Kids?”
“A step at a time, but yes.”
“Fuck.” Did he dare hope? “All of it? You’re serious?”
“Yes.” She grinned, and as the seconds passed, it became a full-fledged smile that lit up her eyes. “Everything. I want to be your wife. The mother of your children.”
A vise had been on his heart, and he hadn’t realized how tight it was until her words freed him. “But…” He released her to plow a hand into his hair. “This has to be done in the right way.”
“I’m not sure what you mean.”
This unexpected turn made him do a silent fist pump, but for one of the first times in his life, he’d been caught off guard. “We need a ring before I propose.”
“Okay. I can wait.”
“Tomorrow. We’ll go shopping tomorrow.” And then he’d find a memorable way to ask her to marry him. This was significant, and he wanted her to understand how important it was to him. Maybe while they were out on the pontoon? Or at a nice dinner? Maybe while they were out with their friends?
“Just knowing we’ll be together is enough for me, Sir.” The purr in her voice made his dick as hard as granite.
“It’s not enough for me. I want the whole world to look at your hand and know you’re taken.”
“Since I met you, there hasn’t been anyone else for me.”
“Shelby, I’ve waited my whole life for you.”
She leaned toward him. For a change, she kissed him.
Before he lost control, he took hold of her shoulders and moved her back onto her seat. “I’m taking you home.”
“Please, Master Trevor.”
He barely managed to keep his speed low enough to avoid the attention of law enforcement.
When they were inside the house, he grabbed two bottles of water from the refrigerator. He had definite plans for her evening ahead, and they included a trip to the dungeon.
Slowly she uncapped her drink. “You said we could talk.”
“Of course.” He took a seat at the bar.
“My collar. I mean the one you bought at Madame Giselle’s shop.”
His answer was forceful. “It is yours.” He’d never wanted it back, and when she’d insisted, he’d brought it home and placed it on his desk, in a place where he’d see it every day and think of her, remember how it glinted while it was nestled on her neck.
She leaned against the refrigerator, keeping the space of the kitchen between them. “Uhm, I don’t know how this works.”
“Go on.”
“I miss it.”
Her honesty struck at him, humbling him. “You want it back?”
“I’m not sure if I’m allowed to say that. I mean, I don’t think a submissive is supposed to ask her Dom to put a collar on her, is she?”
“There are no absolutes. And I’d like nothing more than to see it on you. This evening?”
She took a long drink of her water. “If… I mean yes. If you want it also.”
Nothing he’d like more. “Go and change into something you can wear to the dungeon. I’ll meet you there.”
While she headed upstairs, he fetched her collar, then went to the dungeon to prepare for her. He selected some classic rock, then set the volume so that it would provide a backdrop rather than driving the scene. Tonight was about a deeper connection.
A few minutes later, she joined him. This evening, instead of wearing a swimsuit coverup or a robe, she’d selected one of his dress shirts, reminiscent of the first time he introduced her to his private play space.
Every time he thought he couldn’t be any more in love with her, he discovered new depths.
She closed and locked the door behind her before dropping the shirt and closing the distance between them, her bare feet silent on the cypress wood floor. Silently she stood in front of him, her gaze lowered. Then, with exquisite grace, she knelt and waited, so different from that night at the Quarter.
“Please, lift your hair.”
Each motion perfect, she did as he requested. In seconds he closed the collar around her neck and secured the heart-shaped lock. For now it would work. At some point in the future, he’d perform a more formal collaring ceremony. For now, this was symbolic and perfect.
He helped her up and instructed her to choose an implement for their play. When she selected a tawse, he was momentarily speechless.
“I’m ready for this as well,” she said, offering it to him on upturned palms. “I trust you.”
He remembered her fear, that she’d be a random sub, spanked and forgotten. That she was able to put that behind her was powerful. “I’m honored.” Because he understood the emotional risk she was taking, he stripped off his clothes and put on a condom before taking a seat in his oversize leather chair. Then he crooked his finger, beckoning her to him.
As she neared, he held out a hand and helped her into place. “I’ll start slow.” He’d chosen to be naked on purpose, so their skin would be touching, silent assurance of his love and how much she mattered.
She made a few slight adjustments before settling herself across his lap and relaxing her body.
For minutes he caressed her.
“Mmm.”
He continued what he was doing, for the simple pleasure of having his woman, his sub, his future bride where he wanted her. “Ready?” he asked eventually.
She clenched before catching herself and expelling a breath. “Yes, Sir.”
Trevor spanked her, slow and soft, warming her up. She touched her fingertips to the floor for balance as he increased the pressure and frequency. Once her buttocks and the backs of her legs were reddened enough to give him confidence that she wouldn’t easily bruise, he picked up the tawse.
He trailed the leather ac
ross her skin, letting her know to expect its harsh kiss.
Her breaths came in little bursts, and he rubbed her thighs until she released the tension from her body. “That’s perfect.”
The first few strikes were gentle, and he allowed her to enjoy them before he picked up the intensity, spanking her faster and harder.
He kept his left hand on her, reassuring her of his adoration. And when she started to whimper, he slid a finger over her clit.
She arched her back and screamed.
Relentlessly he continued his torment, alternating between the relentless pain delivered by the twin spikes of leather and the devilment of the pleasure he was giving her pussy.
“Oh Sir!”
“Are you ready to come, precious sub?” He slid two fingers inside her heat. She was wet he moved in and out of her easily, bringing her closer to the edge as he ratcheted up the force of his spanks.
Since she hadn’t answered him, he repeated himself. “Do you want to come, Shelby?”
“Yes! Please, yes. Sir.”
It was impossible for him to wait another moment. This evening, she’d agreed to make their future a reality, and he ached to seal their connection. “I want to be inside you.” Trevor dropped the tawse and captured her around the waist. “Straddle me.” Since she was close to swimming in subspace, he spoke to her more than he usually did during a scene. “Place your arms around my neck and give yourself to me, Shelby.”
With a nod, she all but collapsed on him. And that was perfect with him.
As she lowered herself over him, he guided his cock to her entrance. With a soft sound—half sigh, half moan—she took his length.
Her head was on his shoulder, and her hair spilled down his chest. Her surrender was complete. Pure male triumph ripped through him.
He supported her hips as she rode him, and he stroked faster and faster until she shattered, screaming. This was what he lived for.
After she was replete, he sought his pleasure, coming deep in her as her pussy muscles clenched him tight.
He had no idea how long they stayed joined together until she finally lifted her head and pushed a hand against his chest so she could look at him. “That was everything I always hoped it would be. Thank you, Sir.”
“Everything you want, and more, I will give to you. You’re mine to love, Shelby. Now and forever. Always.”
His to Love (Titans Quarter Book 2) Page 22