by Cara Dee
He laughs and shakes his head at the mug, then gives me a smooch and promises to use it for his morning coffee from now on. I blush and giggle at that. Then it's my turn to shake my head—totally amused—when he opens the gift with the portable speakers. There are four of them, and he looks ten years younger as he animatedly thinks out loud about where to place them in the office at Switch. He also confirms that the salesguy was right. So…whew. Good purchase.
"Now that we'll have music up there, perhaps I'll order you to strip for me—maybe a lap dance?" He drops a sensual kiss to my neck. "Thank you."
"You're welcome." That came out all breathy. "Um, here." I give him the final gift and wring my hands in my lap, nervous he won't like it.
But he does. Thank goodness.
"This is wonderful, sweetheart." Putting the box aside, he smiles softly and brushes his thumb over the metal plate with "Kayla's Daddy" engraved in the silver. The black leather is only about two inches wide, and I think it will look so sexy on him. Everyone who works at Switch already wears one, only theirs are slimmer and have the Switch logo. That’s sorta where I got the idea.
"I was thinking you could wear it at the club?" I don’t know why I posed it as a question. "Like, um, a collar…" To show you're mine. The red rubber bands worn by everyone who is in a relationship aren't special; they just show unavailability. You slap it on when you enter the club—that’s it. I want something more permanent and unique.
"Of course I will. Although, I don’t see why I should only wear it at Switch." He attaches the cuff and nods—in satisfaction, it looks like. "Perfect. Thank you very much."
I smile in relief and nibble on my scone.
"And now I suppose it's your turn." He grins, and I bounce a little, eyeing the handful of boxes left under the tree. But then he confuses me by retrieving his phone from the coffee table a few feet away. "Let's call Rio and wish him a merry Christmas, shall we?"
"Wh…?" What? I frown, thinking his timing stinks.
"You owe me, Ford." Rio's grumpy voice filters through, and when Nicholas shifts closer and shows me the display, I see Rio's face, too. I guess a regular phone call isn't enough? "Oh." Rio's morning scowl is replaced by a faint smile when he sees me. "How are ya, love?"
"Um, good." I'm still confuzzled, but I manage to smile genuinely at the sight of a rumpled Rio. His nearly black hair is messy from sleep, and his bright green eyes glisten when he yawns. "How are you, Sir?"
"Bloody brilliant." He huffs a chuckle and moves around wherever he is—maybe to another room in his house. I'm not sure, but I think I recognize the rustic red of the walls in his living room. "Has Nick filled you in?"
I shake my head no.
"Not yet." Nicholas picks up my hand and kisses my knuckles. "All right, so perhaps I didn’t call Rio to wish him a merry Christmas—"
"Cheers, mate." Rio smiles wryly.
I stifle a giggle.
Nicholas smirks and goes on. "Rio, show Kayla her present, please."
Frowning deeper, I turn to the screen again, then gasp as Rio picks up a tiny, furry ball. My hands fly to my mouth, and my eyes grow large. Oh, my God, did Nicholas—? Another gasp escapes me when the gray kitten is joined by an orange one. Like Oliver from the Disney movie!
It feels like I'm drawn closer by a magnetic force, and I snatch the phone from Nicholas.
"Rio's been watching them while we're here." He picks me up as if I weigh nothing and sits me down again, between his legs. "They're ten weeks old. Tabbies, both boys."
Rio cuts in. "And they track litter all over my house. This is why I'm a dog person."
Pure joy and excitement bubble up, and I'm torn between throwing myself at Nicholas and gluing myself to the phone; in the end, I do a combination of both. While curling up in Nicholas's lap, snaking one arm around his neck, I hold the phone tighter and closer with my free hand. I squeal and blubber about how cute they are; I thank Nicholas for making another one of my dreams come true. Twice, even! Two kittens. Two!
"I take it you're happy?" Nicholas smiles and tucks a piece of hair behind my ear.
"You have no idea." I sniffle, wiping away a tear, and brush a finger over the screen that still shows the kittens. Right now, Rio's angling his phone at the gray one, who is stretching on the sofa. "Look at him—so adorable." The little furball is a mix of white and silver with darker stripes.
Then the other one rolls over there and stretches, putting a small paw on top of his brother's tummy. He's creamy orange and white, spotty instead of stripey, and the colors blend together more.
"I'm a mommy now." I'm nodding, liking my words.
For humans, I'm an auntie type. Nicholas feels the same; he's said he's happy being an uncle to his sister's kids. We like children, but we also like the idea of returning them to their parents when they get fussy. But two precious little animals? Oh, I'm gonna spoil my boys so much!
"Does that make you Daddy, Nick?" Rio's face fills the screen again; so does his smirk.
Nicholas laughs through his nose. "I suppose." He gives me a squeeze. "But I'll leave the discipline to Kayla on this matter. I have my hands full with a certain baby girl."
"And she will show you how thankful she is for this." It's a promise. I pop a kiss to his chin before facing the screen once more. "Master Rio, could you please send me a few photos later?"
He inclines his head. "Of course, little one."
Unfortunately, we have to wrap up the conversation because it's time to get ready, and my baths tend to take a long time, 'cause I love them so much.
Later, as I'm getting dressed, Nicholas explains that the other gifts have a cat theme and that I can open them when we return after brunch. A brunch I don’t really want anymore.
It wasn’t long ago we had breakfast, darn it. But I obey and let Nicholas drag me downstairs, and later I squeal again when I open the presents to reveal cute collars, toys, treats, and a beautiful book where I can fill in important dates and memories about our kittens.
Chapter 4
That night after dinner, Nicholas and I sit at our table with Gramma Ida and a few others as we wait for the game to begin. We have our little paper slips with numbers, but with the amount of people gathered, I don’t think we'll get a basket. Instead Nicholas and I focus on each other, his arm draped across the back of my chair, and he asks me if I've thought of names for the kittens.
Boy, have I ever!
Earlier today, Nicholas took advantage of the hotel gym, and I used that time to respond to all my Christmas texts from friends, and then I'd called Evangeline to volley names. She had gushed over the photos Rio sent me after breakfast, and she'd agreed that the orange kitten really looks like an Oliver. It may not be original, but it was my favorite Disney movie when I was little, so that’s that. And with his markings, I added Spot as his middle name.
Brayden had joined our conversation briefly, mostly to tease me since he and Mark are evidently also dog people. Brayden had the nerve to call the gray kitten a furry "ball of smudge."
It was all in good fun, though, and I actually found Smudge cute as hell. But not as a first name. Evangeline and I think Jackson is a strong name for him.
"I hope it's not Mr. Cuddles." Great, now Nicholas is teasing me, too.
"It's not." I huff, then sniff. "If you must know, it's Oliver Spot Ford and Jackson Smudge Ford."
"Oliver and Jackson?" His mouth slants into a smile. Then a slow nod. "Well, all right then."
I grin, about to explain their names, but my phone vibrates in my clutch, and I've been waiting for Chelsea to get back to me. For some reason, I think she's avoiding me; I never got in touch with her in Mexico as planned, either. I hope it's her now.
"Excuse me…" I quickly pull out my phone, and I breathe a sigh of relief when I see that it is, in fact, my New York girlfriend. But the relief morphs into confusion when I read the text.
Sorry for not replying sooner. I've been thinking a lot about my move to SF, and I have to know
something first. The Rio you've mentioned, is his last name Kelly?
"Something wrong, sweet girl?"
"Um." I purse my lips, slowly shaking my head, and I honestly have no clue. Why would Chelsea ask about Rio? Do they know each other? At a loss, I just show Nicholas the text, and he frowns in response.
"We'll have to talk about that later." He nods at Aunt Mary and one of the Sarahs who are ready to start the gift exchange. Both are standing on a small dais with ten big gift baskets lined up on two tables, and as Aunt Mary addresses the crowd, Sarah holds up a glass bowl with the "lottery" numbers.
*
With a family including about a hundred people, it's no wonder we don’t expect to bring home a basket, and we don’t. So, as soon as the game is over, I lean close to Nicholas and say I'm gonna go to the little girls' room. Except, I'm pretty sure he knows I'm excusing myself to go call Chelsea.
Finding privacy in the hallway between the lobby and the elevators, I bring out my phone and click on Chelsea's name.
"I figured you were gonna call." Nice greeting.
Well, I'm not going to beat around the bush. "Do you know Rio?"
"I wouldn’t go that far." She sounds nervous and uncomfortable, which is so not the Chelsea Dunn I roomed with during the three months I lived in New York a year ago. She's sexually submissive through and through, but she's also assertive and strong. Cheeky. She's got a wicked sense of humor, and she's the one who throws caution to the wind. Never one to hesitate. Being four years older than my twenty-two, she's also like a big sister to me. "Let's just say he made an impression on me—once upon a time." She clears her throat. "He's the reason I told you to visit Switch in the first place."
That…that makes no sense. Pacing the hallway, I phrase my words and try to get all my gazillion questions in order. "Rio worked with Doctors Without Borders up until a few weeks ago. He just got home from Cambodia or something. Chelsea, he was gone for like—I don’t even know, but more than a year, and that was just the last round."
"I know. I, uh, I found him on Facebook." There's sheepishness and guilt behind her admission. "He used it to keep in touch with his brother and parents while he was overseas."
I chuckle awkwardly. "Stalker warning, sweetie."
"Don’t I know it." She probably just rolled her eyes at herself. "But I swear it's not as bad as it sounds. I got curious—this was maybe…three years ago? He kept popping up in my mind, so I looked up his name and found him. That’s also where I saw some woman asking about Switch's opening on his wall." I nod to myself, knowing that Nicholas opened Switch a little over three years ago. "Since my current Dom at the time was taking me to San Francisco later that summer, I decided to visit Switch and see if Rio was there." But he hadn't been, of course.
"Why…" I sigh and massage my forehead. "Why haven't you told me any of this before?" I just don’t get it.
"Because I know it all sounds shifty. You said it yourself, Kayla. Stalker warning? Ugh." She groans in the background. "I honestly just wanted to find him and apologize for how we met. I was such an idiot."
That sounds ominous. "How did you meet?"
She releases a heavy breath. "It was almost ten years ago—he sorta introduced me to the lifestyle."
Wait, what? "No way." I know I sound dubious, because I am. "Um, honey…ten years ago, you were sixteen. Rio was what—thirty?" Yeah, thirty. Nicholas has told me Rio turns forty in February.
"He didn’t know I was sixteen," she admits. "Don’t worry; nothing happened. I met him at a club—a vanilla one, and I'd been using my fake ID." Oh, Chelsea. "I flirted with him, and…" She huffs a humorless chuckle. "You know I've told you I was a wild kid." That’s an understatement, but Chelsea's childhood wasn’t a nice one, so I can't blame her. I don’t blame her. "Anyway, he didn’t buy into my shit—the flirting, the skimpy outfit. Girl, I was relentless. And, I think to scare me away, he told me what he usually did with brats who needed to know their place."
At that, I gotta giggle. Knowing Chelsea's turn-ons, I bet she creamed herself.
"Yeah…" She giggles, too. "I remember something snapping inside me. I swear I almost melted into a puddle in front of him." Then she pauses, and the humor is gone. "It was so wonderful to be with someone who saw through me. Back then, I pushed everyone's limits."
I feel so sad for her, because I know why she did it: to see if anyone else would abandon her. For a long time, it was her defense mechanism.
"So, what happened then?" I bite my thumbnail, worried how this will affect her move to San Francisco. "Did he find out you were only sixteen?"
"Yeah, he suspected I was underage, and he made me tell him the truth."
Made her? Uh-oh. Rio is a very creative Master—I'm almost afraid to ask. "How did he—um, you know?"
She chuckles wryly. "He called me on it—the teasing. He cornered me in the club and got all close, effectively making me blurt out the truth." Oh, I can picture that. Tall and broad-shouldered, Rio would loom over her like a tower. "He caged me in, Kayla, but instead of feeling trapped… I wouldn’t call it safe, 'cause I was fucking terrified, but there was something…"
"I understand." I get quiet, knowing just the "something" she's talking about. No sensible woman would feel safe mere seconds after meeting a man that way, but…Nicholas and his friends kind of radiate it. You don’t need to spend much time with them to understand how strict they are when it comes to safe, sane, and consensual. It's in their bones.
"I honestly don’t think he remembers me, but what if he does? How's he gonna react when I move there in a few weeks?"
Ten years since they met—and it was only briefly…? "I don’t think you have anything to worry about either, but you never know." I pause, thinking. "Did anything else happen afterward—after he confronted you?"
"You mean aside from the fact that I suddenly had a major crush?" Chelsea laughs, although it sounds a little empty. "No. Nothing else happened. We made introductions, and he advised me to—oh, Kayla, he said, 'You should take care of yourself, little rebel. There's only one of you.'"
"God, that’s so sweet." I melt a little at that and pout at the floor. Rio is such a good man; he deserves…he deserves Chelsea! Oh my God, that’s who I need to set him up with. Chelsea! She will be perfect for him. I think. I hope.
Imagine that reunion—when they see each other at Switch. Like…the parting of the Red Sea. They'll fall in love and get married and have a bunch of babies.
I mean, what could go wrong?
Having been too excited with my future matchmaking, I miss a few things Chelsea has said, so I swoop in and "uh-huh" and "I see" over the next couple minutes. Then we wish each other a merry Christmas before I really do need to go to the little girls' room.
It's when I'm washing my hands after going to the bathroom that I hear Amanda talking to someone outside in the hallway. Grabbing a paper towel, I dry my hands and walk closer to the exit, putting my ear to the door in hopes of hearing better.
"What do you mean, you're leaving?" She sounds totally offended.
Next it's a man who speaks up. "I didn’t come here to make you look good, Amanda." Ooh, I think that’s her date. "With your eyes glued to your cousin and her fiancé, I'm surprised you haven't forgotten I'm here completely."
Drama.
"You're delusional." Amanda scoffs, and it'd be perfect if she'd said that in a mirror. "And you can't leave now; it's Christmas, for God's sake! Do you know how it'll look if you bail on me now?"
I shake my head, getting the heebie-jeebies. One might think she'd be the dumb blonde who gets killed first in a horror movie, but I actually believe she'd be the monster everyone's running from. She has no heart.
"Have a good Christmas, Amanda. Oh, and a piece of advice? Seek help for your narcissistic tendencies."
"Oh, snap." I giggle behind my hand.
The next thing I hear is the sound of shoes moving farther away, and then Amanda stomping her foot.
But then I hea
r someone approaching again, and Amanda no longer sounds angry, but smug.
"You followed me here, Nick? Keeping an eye on me?"
I back away and scowl at the door. She's out there with Nicholas now?
"Don’t flatter yourself." He chuckles. "You're not that interesting."
Double snap!
Amanda scoffs; she's good at that. "And I think you're lying. I've felt your eyes on me, you know."
Nicholas hums. "Call it a hunch. Kayla's been out here speaking to a friend on the phone" —dammit, I knew he knew!— "and I figured as long as you were in the restaurant, she'd be all right."
"You make it sound like I'm out to hurt her." Ugh, Amanda's doing that thing she did with her parents after bullying me—sounding all sweet and innocent. Only, at thirty-six, she just sounds pathetic. "I was merely going to powder my nose—"
"Save your shit for someone who buys it, Amanda. And evidently that doesn’t include your date. He sure took off quickly, didn’t he?"
See? There we go again. Rio hadn't believed Chelsea for a minute, and now Nicholas is calling out Amanda. Nothing gets past them. For all I know, Nicholas even knows I'm listening right now.
Not particularly interested in making a fool of myself, I throw away the paper towel and then unceremoniously leave the bathroom.
Nicholas simply smiles and holds out his hand for me, and Amanda shoots me a glare.
As we head back to the restaurant, I peer over my shoulder and stick out my tongue at her.
Her eyes widen, as if she can't believe how childish I'm being.
Pirate's wench.
I snicker and hug Nicholas's bicep.
"I saw that, baby girl." He doesn’t look down at me; he just smirks and opens the glass doors leading to the restaurant. "And I want you to know I'm very proud of you." He huffs a laugh at my surprised look and taps my nose. "Not the part where you stuck out your tongue. But all of this—the trip, coming here and tolerating some of your family’s abhorrent behavior."