by M. Q. Barber
Henry shook his head, smiling as he stroked Jay’s cheek. “Alice has delightfully swollen curves with the proper encouragement, doesn’t she, my boy?”
“Yes, Henry.” Jay licked his lips and met her gaze. “Delicious curves.”
Her nipples hardened. The sheer, gauzy fabric of her nightgown did nothing to hide them as she shivered. William followed her spine down and rested his hand above her bottom. Larger than Henry’s, with wider fingers, his hand didn’t make her heart thump the way Henry’s touch did. The way Jay’s eyes were doing now.
William twitched under her thigh. “My God, Henry. Living with these two, how are you not walking around with a permanent hard-on?”
“Meditation. Willpower.” He tousled Jay’s hair. “An unending succession of exquisite blowjobs.”
Will groaned. “Have a heart. I’ve a cold bed waiting for me. A man can only take so much torment.” But he rubbed her back with a light hand and kissed her head. “You’ve been a charming companion, little one. It’s no wonder Henry’s so ass-over-teakettle in love with the both of you. Go and join your playmate, and I’ll leave you to your games. Whatever debt you felt you owed is more than paid.”
She grazed his lips with hers and wrapped her arms around his neck in a quick hug. “Thank you, Santa,” she murmured. “I’m glad you’re such a good friend to Henry and to us.”
Henry welcomed her return with a tight hug and a whisper in her ear. “My dear, sweet girl. Such a beautiful gift.” He settled her on the pillows beside Jay, who clutched her in a fierce grip. “You’re both at leisure while I see Will out, my dears.”
They lay in silence, Jay curved as tight around her as Henry’s slacks hugging his ass when he walked to the door. Yum.
“I had a wonderful evening, Henry.” William slipped his shoes on. “It’s been a long time.”
“Too long.” Henry handed him his coat from the armoire. “We’ll plan something again soon.”
William smiled at her and Jay in their nest, and she smiled back. “They’re a credit to themselves and to you, Henry.” He must have said something else as he turned away, because he and Henry chuckled together.
“I wish you luck, Will. Give our best to Em if you see her.”
Ah. Santa was off to the club, to find a playmate of his own before he went home to that cold bed. The rest of her night would probably be much more fun, even if it involved cleaning the kitchen and falling asleep. At least her bed would be warm and full of love.
Chapter 14
The door opened seconds after Henry buzzed. Unmarked, unobtrusive, no different from the half-dozen doors he’d driven past as he threaded the car down the alley and parked. Tuesday evening. The shadows hung deep in the alley between buildings though the sun hadn’t set.
Jay brushed Alice’s fingers.
She clasped his hand.
Emma ushered them inside and down a narrow hall. An oddity, coming out to the main reception area from the back. Past small offices and a coat room, all dark.
No one stood behind the curving counter to greet them. Emma didn’t request their electronic devices or log their visit. Her heels echoed on the granite with each step. She flipped a switch, and the sconces along the wall highlighted their path up the stairs.
“No one will be here tonight but me, Henry. It seems we’re undergoing a ‘pest extermination.’” Emma appeared immaculately coiffed as always. Dress, hose, heels. Pearl choker.
Did she sleep that way, or did she don a persona every morning?
“Even those with private rooms have been informed they won’t be accessible this evening.”
Ugh. Distracting herself by worrying about irrelevancies like Emma’s perfection wouldn’t cut it tonight. Henry had brought them here to confront their lingering unease. To excise that fucking bastard Cal from whatever corner of Jay’s mind and hers he occupied.
“Take whatever time you need.” Emma’s mouth softened as she glanced at Jay and Alice. “I’ll lock up behind you when you’re ready.”
“Thank you, Em. Your attention to detail is most appreciated.” Henry kissed Emma’s cheek.
A brief kiss. A friend kiss. An entirely nonromantic kiss that still left Alice grateful for the squeeze of Jay’s hand in hers.
“Come along, my dears.” Henry held out his hand. “We’ll begin with a tour of the second floor. Alice hasn’t seen it at all yet.”
They’d taken the elevator straight to the third floor the night she’d been here. Dressed to attract attention. To see and be seen.
Tonight they’d dressed for comfort, covered from head to toe. Her coziest flannel, her softest jeans, her well-worn sneakers. Jay sported equally scuffed sneaks topped by loose sweats and a thin, long-sleeved T-shirt.
“Second floor.” She stepped onto the stairs, Jay half a beat behind, their hands entwined. “Can’t wait. What’s up there?”
Henry settled his hand against her back and played tour guide as they climbed the grand staircase. The rise and fall of his voice soothed. At the top of the stairs, he led them left, past a separate reception area and expanded cloakroom.
“Not everyone arrives dressed to play. For those with more elaborate tastes, such would be unthinkable.” Henry pushed open a door and turned on a light. “Changing rooms on this floor. A non-play area. The rules of respect, the code of conduct, still apply, of course, but contact must remain nonsexual. Locker rooms, as well, for post-play showers.”
“But the bathrooms upstairs have showers.” She and Jay had climbed to the fourth floor because the showers in the third-floor bathrooms had been in use.
“Those are not for bathing so much as playing, my dear.” Henry flipped off the light and closed the door. “As we did at Will’s vacation home.”
Shower sex. She laughed, an edge of nerves beneath. “I can’t believe I didn’t think of that.”
“Really, Alice.” Jay tsked at her, mock-sorrow on his face. “After all the showers we’ve taken together. How could sex not be the first thing you think of when you see a shower? It’s the first thing I think of.”
“Sex is the first thing you think of as soon as your eyes open in the morning.” She smiled to take the sting out of the tease. “I’m pretty sure it’s what you think about when you’re asleep, too.”
Jay splayed his hands in the universal sign for eh, what’re ya gonna do?
Henry made a soft sound between a hum and a grunt. “The salon and the attached kitchen command the largest space on this floor.” He led them back past the stairs, threw open a pair of oversize doors, and lit up an enormous room.
“Whoa.” She pivoted to take in the dozen or so seating arrangements. Cozy, intimate spaces for two. Larger groupings of short sofas. The room clamored for men in formal dress discussing weather and war while women in Victorian gowns played the piano or embroidered. A movie set from some period piece where the electricity would get edited out. “Fancy.”
Jay’s sigh seemed almost relaxed. Her estimation had been way off. He hadn’t shown a hint of upset, no fidgeting, no clinging to Henry. Maybe he’d find confronting this easy.
“Tell Alice about the salon, my boy.” Henry’s fond smile matched Jay’s. “What does this room remind you of?”
Jay wandered right, weaving from seating area to seating area. Stopping at a pale blue chair, he frowned. “Where’s the other one?”
“I’m not certain.” Henry led her toward the grouping Jay had picked out. “Emma is likely to know. We may ask her if you wish.”
Jay gripped the chair back in both hands and shook his head. “I thought it would look the same. Silly. But I…I counted the steps, you know. I was watching your feet so I’d know when to stop.” He dragged his shoe against the rug. “Twenty-three steps from the salon door to the chairs, and you told me to sit and I sat on the floor.”
Their first real meeting. That’s what this room meant to Jay. The week after Cal’s assault, he’d said.
“I remember,” Henry murmured. He gestured h
er to the short couch beside the chair. “I asked you to sit in the chair instead, and you apologized for displeasing me.”
Bruised from the week before, an emotional wreck in search of a new dominant, Jay had gone back to the club.
She sat. “Your first date.”
Henry raised his eyebrow, but Jay beamed. “Henry didn’t look at anyone else all night. He didn’t go back upstairs. He stayed here with me the whole time, and I didn’t have to do anything bad to earn it.”
“That must’ve been exciting.” Smiling back took effort. She had a limited idea of what Jay considered bad ways to earn attention, and none made for pretty pictures in her head. “A good night.”
“The best. He asked so many questions. I thought he must be planning a huge scene and he’d take me upstairs when he had all the answers, but we just talked.”
“It ought to have been a familiar experience, my boy.” Henry stood straight, his shoulders unbowed, his tone even, but his eyes—tightness lurked at the corners as he tracked Jay’s every motion. “I hadn’t intended our talk to be quite so novel.”
“It was—” Jay ran his hand across the back of the blue chair. “The first time I went home hopeful instead of empty. Like I didn’t have to leave everything at the door.”
She studied her shoes. The place Jay feared was the place he loved, too. The place where he’d met Henry.
“I had a red ribbon and a homework assignment. Henry wanted to see me again. I mattered.”
He’d found his first spark of self-worth in submission here with Henry. Of course he’d felt empty. He’d been a toy to the people before Henry. His pleasure had lasted as long as he was pleasing and being praised. When the game stopped, the feelings stopped, too.
“That’s what this room reminds me of.” Face sweet and open, he gazed at Henry with naked adoration. “You told me, ‘You’re a good boy, Jay’”—he’d dropped his voice, the lower register a credible mimic of Henry’s dom tone—“‘and your red ribbon tells everyone here that you’re my good boy. I want you to take good care of my property this week. Treat it well. If you do that, you will have pleased me very much.’”
Henry had given him something to look forward to. A way to respect himself.
“You still please me, my boy.” Henry pulled Jay into a hug, cradling him tight to his chest. “Very much.”
As nervous as the club made Jay, this room, this space, stood outside that feeling. It had its own memories, happy associations. A tree with their initials carved in the trunk. Their relationship had started here.
“Alice, you’re missing the hugging.” Jay’s voice was muffled against Henry’s neck. He flung one arm wide in a blind search for her body. “You don’t wanna miss out.”
“Nope.” She rose and nestled herself at their side. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
* * * *
The little kitchen off the salon had finished their tour of the second floor. Nowhere to go but up. No going back, not if they intended to confront the thoughts drying her throat and making her pulse race.
The third floor’s silence seemed eerie. She irrationally expected a soundtrack. The plaintive whispers of violins below a chorus of chatter and moaning and the slap of skin against skin in the hall.
She came to a dead stop.
“Alice?” Henry paused beside her. “Tell me.”
They’d been here. Right here, between that bench and this viewing window. Hemmed in. Herded like cattle, and Cal with a mind for slaughter.
“I thought someone would help us.” She meant to speak up, to provide a good example for Jay and make Henry proud. Her words emerged in a whisper. “I couldn’t figure out why no one was stopping him. But no one thought it was strange. Just the way to talk to submissives. Perfectly okay.”
Humming to her, Henry kissed her temple and rested his forehead against hers. “They would have expected such things had been negotiated, sweet girl. That if he were speaking to you, red-ribboned as you were, he’d already obtained your consent and his behavior was consistent with your preferences.”
The idea of giving that man her consent made her skin crawl like a cockroach colony. She shook off the creeping disgust. “I got that, eventually. That’s why I talked to him. Defied him. Another man—I don’t even know his name—he started asking questions. Gave us the opening we needed to get away.” Not soon enough, though. Not for her paralyzed playmate. “Jay?”
“Huh?” His head jerked. Jittery, foot tapping, he’d been staring at the wall. “I’m listening. Bad night. So many people, and he—I mean, what?”
She stepped toward him and gripped his trembling hand. “I’m sorry I let him say those things to you, Jay.”
He shook his head, his mouth a stubborn line. “I’m sorry you had to protect me. If I hadn’t stopped moving, you wouldn’t have had to talk to him. It was my fault.”
“It was not.” Her voice and Henry’s sounded as one.
“His behavior was an egregious breach of protocol and common courtesy. You are not at fault for his actions, my boy, and your response to his presence was neither unexpected nor unwarranted.” Henry touched her face, gently turning her toward him. “Nor are you at fault for Cal’s words. His speech is his own. The responsibility to conduct himself like a gentleman is his own, even if he chooses not to exercise restraint in word or deed.”
Silence drifted in. She lacked the stomach to head down the hallway and into the room where she’d been publicly disciplined. Unjustly so, since Cal had instigated the entire event. But she’d agreed to accept punishment. The way Jay’d agreed to sign the papers and pretend he could forget Cal’s assault. To avoid making trouble.
Henry tucked her arm into his own, and her feet moved automatically to keep up. The hall opened with unexpected quickness.
The distance had seemed insurmountable that night. An endless search to find her way back to Henry. She’d dreamed, in the week afterward, she hadn’t found him at all. That Jay’s hand had slipped from hers and she’d been alone among strangers wearing Cal’s face.
Thank God waking up had brought her face-to-face with Henry. He hadn’t disappeared, and Jay hadn’t disappeared, and she wasn’t lost.
Tears blurred her vision.
Henry squeezed her hand. “Tell me how you feel now, standing here. Alice?”
She rotated in a slow turn. Breathed in and out. Rocked with the shame and confusion. The fear. Cal’s laughter. But underneath, too, rolled her initial excitement. Will’s courtesy. Jay’s loving attention. Henry cradling her in his arms…and Henry lowering her panties and turning her over his knee.
“Too much,” she murmured. “I feel too much.”
“Jay?”
“I don’t know.” He shook his head. “Not—I don’t know.” He stood on jittery legs, one knee twisting in and out. “Fine. This is for Alice. She got hurt. I’m fine.”
Henry frowned. He didn’t challenge Jay’s answer. A bullshit answer, for sure. Maybe Jay didn’t know exactly how he felt, but he wasn’t fucking fine.
“Angry,” she blurted. “I’m really fucking angry, and I don’t want that jackass to make anyone feel as helpless and small as he made me feel ever again. And I’m angry at myself for not doing something different, and I’m angry at Henry for not finding another way, and I’m angry at Jay for not fucking saying how he feels.”
They stared, Henry approving and Jay with wide eyes.
Her lungs heaved. Streaming tears itched her cheeks.
“And better.” She sucked in air. “I feel better, because I’m not afraid to be here. He doesn’t win. He doesn’t get to defeat me. He’s nothing, and I’m still me. I still have both of you. He hasn’t taken a damn thing from me. I win. I win.”
She laughed, and cried, and let Henry soothe her with sheltering hands and whispered encouragement. But Jay watched with an uncomfortable fear, his anxious expression reforming into a smiling mask every time they looked at him.
Henry’s quiet sigh warmed her neck. H
e stepped back. “Jay? Perhaps you’d like to share your feelings now, as Alice has done.”
“I’m good. This was good. I’m glad Alice feels better.” He delivered a toothy grin, as if Henry would agree they’d exorcised their demons and take them home.
“Upstairs, then, my dears.” His words sucked the joy from the room.
* * * *
Jay halted at the top of the stairs, on the edge of the fourth floor, and she stopped with him.
“Straight ahead, Jay.” Quiet but firm, Henry allowed no argument. “Keep moving, please.”
Jay stepped forward. “One foot in front of the other, right? No problem.” Swinging his legs and dragging his toes, Jay babbled fast but walked slow. “I can dance if you want. Fancy footwork.”
Henry took her hand when she would have moved with him. No way in hell could he expect Jay to do this alone.
He shook his head at her. “Patience,” he murmured. A grimace crossed his face.
Memory flashed, Henry’s pleading expression as he urged her into bed after the night had gone so badly. He needed her to follow his lead. His forcefulness had gotten Jay moving until he could break down in safety. Tonight, Jay had to confront the source of his pain.
Jay acted as if being here didn’t affect him, but he crept along like a child in a house of horrors. Even with the rooms empty and silent. Even with the hall brightly lit. Even with her and Henry walking behind him. He looked to both sides as he walked, shaking his head. He slowed as he passed each door.
He…didn’t know.
Horrified understanding shivered through her blood.
The entire floor was an open wound in his mind, a terror beyond imagining, built up from year upon year of pretending he’d put it behind him. He couldn’t identify the place where his nightmares lived.
Henry laid a hand on Jay’s shoulder. “Stop here, my boy.”
They stood between two doors, one on either side of the hall.
Jay swung his head between them.
“The left,” Henry prompted.
Jay’s memories might be indistinct, blurred by pain and fear, but Henry’s had to be absolute. Frozen and sliced and dyed in shades of blame on slides for him to examine under a microscope. How often did he wish he’d noticed the scene sooner and saved Jay some pain?