“Wait.” She pulled back. “Do girls at work hit on you often?”
Owen laughed, tucked his hands under into her armpits and lifted. She stood and turned to face him as he pulled the drain plug and stood as well.
“Owen? How often?” she repeated, her hands making a slapping sound as she clapped them on her hips.
He stepped out of the tub and held her hand to help her out as well.
And said nothing.
She snatched the towel away from him when he tried to dry her off and he laughed harder. When she turned her back to him, he wrapped his arms around her from behind. She couldn’t help herself—she pressed her sore bottom against his erection and shivered. Goose bumps rippled over her skin and her nipples peaked to aching when he sank his teeth into the curve between her shoulder and neck.
“I love you feisty,” he growled.
“No one really hits on you, do they?” she asked, turning to face him. “You just said that to get a rise out of me.”
He said nothing.
“Owen,” she warned.
He bent suddenly and hoisted her over his shoulder.
“Mmm, look at this beautiful red ass,” he said, running his hand over her bottom as he carried her out of the bathroom. “What do you say we go do it in bed like normal people for a little while.”
“If we must,” she sighed.
“So, what exactly did you say to Sanders to convince him to take the meeting for me the day of our anniversary?” he asked, carrying her down the hall. “He was pretty surprised to hear there were rumors about him and Stacy. You couldn’t have used that to threaten him or he would have known.”
“I like the view from up here,” she told him, watching the flex of his ass and the long, strong lines of his legs, his feet leaving wet footprints on the wood floor as he closed the distance between the bathroom and bedroom in long strides.
“It’s not so bad from where I am either,” he answered, kissing her hip.
“I didn’t exactly come right out and say I knew about him and Stacy,” she said, falling onto her back with a sigh when he laid her on the bed and stretched out over her. “That would be indiscreet, wouldn’t it?”
A delicious thrill vibrated through her at the smirk on his face.
“I just told him I knew about his little indiscretion in Vegas,” she added, stroking her hands over his back. His skin was just as soft as hers from the bath.
“Yes, well.” He arched an eyebrow at her. “He thought you were referring to the insane amount of money he lost at the blackjack tables while he was there, and he was pissed at me for telling you about it.”
She frowned. “You didn’t tell me he lost a lot of money on that trip.”
He nodded. “Exactly.” And then his expression was suddenly very serious. “Am I enough for you?” he asked.
She wrapped her legs around his and dug her fingers into his ass, trying to coax him inside her. “If there was any more of you I wouldn’t be able to take it.”
One corner of his mouth lifted then dropped again.
“That’s not what I mean,” he said, resisting. “Do you ever feel like you want to be more involved in the scene again? And not just with me all the time.”
She got what he was asking.
“Would I like to find a club and be part of the community again? Yes,” she answered, trailing her fingertips up his spine. “Do I need to play with another Dom?” She shrugged ambiguously. “Do I need to go back to being fucked by other Doms?” She shook her head slowly. “It never crosses my mind.”
He looked skeptical. “Never?”
She smacked him on the ass and was rewarded with the head of his cock pressing against her eager sex. She moaned and her hips came off the bed to take all of him in.
“Never,” she promised.
* * * * *
“I had a feeling about the two of you,” Laura said, handing Grace a cup of coffee.
Grace blushed. She sat at the table in Laura’s open, farmhouse kitchen, settling her tender bottom carefully onto the cushioned chair.
“It’s not exactly something you can bring up at soccer practice or the school play, is it?” she asked with a laugh.
“No, it’s really not.” Laura shook her head, bringing a sugar and creamer set to the table. “Still,” she continued, taking the chair across from Grace. “How long have we known each other? You’d think it might have come up before now.”
“It’s been so long since I talked about it with anyone but Owen.” Grace watched the kids playing in the Millers’ backyard.
Ian and Adam were playing on an elaborate wood-framed swing set. They were racing to see who could get from one end of the monkey bars to the other faster. Adam’s older sister Emma cheered them on from the end they were racing toward while Liam stood staring at his watch, looking every bit like his father as he timed them.
“For that matter, it’s been forever since Owen and I talked about it,” Grace added, turning to Laura. “Have you and Brad ever gone a long time without, you know?”
Relief over finding out she and Owen had friends in the scene didn’t immediately squelch the initial awkwardness she always felt talking about it.
“We didn’t play while I was pregnant and then for three months after each of the kids was born, but no longer than that.” She raised a hand before Grace could respond. “But we’ve always lived here, and my sister and I swap babysitting hours all the time. I heard you and Owen haven’t really found anyone since you moved here.”
“Not before last night.” Grace sighed wistfully and sipped her coffee. “Owen and I are both only children. His parents are great with the kids in small doses, and my parents live far away. It has to be nice to have family so close by.”
“As it is with any family, it has its pitfalls,” Laura said with a smirk. “But the babysitting thing seems to work for everyone. Brad and I get the time to do our thing, my sister gets a break from her three when it’s our turn to take them, and the kids are growing up with their cousins as some of their first friends.”
Grace noted the look that came over Laura’s face.
“You know,” she said, her smile turning impish, “I bet my sister would be willing to watch your kids occasionally if you wanted to expand the sitting pool.”
Grace blinked. “What do you mean?”
“I mean if we were childfree on the same nights, we could swap. Or play together.” She tipped her head toward the window facing the yard. “The four of us.”
As if on cue, Brad Miller appeared out of one of the barns beyond the fenced-in yard. Grace had to admit she’d admired him on more than several occasions. It was hard not to. He was stunning—dark hair and gray eyes, skin that turned a deep tan in the summer, arms a girl could hang from and thighs like tree trunks.
She looked back at Laura, whose smile widened in response.
“I’m going to be completely honest with you, Grace. Even before Brad came home and told me he’d talked to Owen, I used to catch myself thinking about what it would be like to be tied up and tortured by your husband every once in a while.”
A bubble of jealously swelled and then immediately burst into a wave of pride.
“I love my husband and his crazy-mad cat whip skills to no end,” Laura continued, “but variety is indeed the spice of life, darling.”
Grace could do nothing but smile as she looked back out the window, and at Brad as he strode toward the house, sweat around the collar and under the arms of his t-shirt. She could see the muscles of his thighs through his jeans as he took long strides toward the house. She caught sight of the size of his large, work-dirty hands and shivered at the thought of the impact they would make as they came down on her.
He seemed to be looking directly at her, as though he knew they were talking about him and understood exactly what they were talking about. And then her heart melted as he turned abruptly, summoned by his daughter, and joined the kids at their game.
Laura tucked a stray
lock of blonde hair behind her ear. Her gaze dropped to Grace’s mouth for a lingering moment, then she lifted her dark-brown eyes and said, “I’d love it if we could play as a foursome some time.”
Grace squirmed in her seat as her head flooded with images of Owen standing shirtless and sweating over a bound Laura. She could see the muscles of his chest and arms straining as he wielded the cat whip he loved but she herself hated. She shivered a little when that thought immediately turned to her being at dark-and-dangerous Brad’s mercy. And she could very clearly imagine the dirty things Owen and Brad would surely make her and Laura do to each other while they watched.
“We’re having a cookout for my family next weekend,” Laura said. “You and Owen should bring the kids by. Meet my sister and her family.”
Grace drew in a deep breath and considered her answer very carefully.
“I’d love to come to a cookout, but I’m not sure Owen will go for the other.”
Or would he? Was that what he’d been getting at the night before?
Her gaze passed between Laura and Brad, then returned.
She smiled. “I’ll talk to him.”
About Jayne Kingston
Jayne Kingston was born, raised, and has always lived in the Northwest Ohio area. Her job gives her lots of free time to let her imagination run wild – it’s boring, but she rather likes that freedom of thought – and unlimited access to paper so she can jot down ideas as they pop into her head. (Seriously, the office supply nerd in her loves that part.)
She’s an avid fan of erotic romance and erotica of all genres who’d been writing rather vanilla contemporary love stories for years. She hadn't thought to combine the two elements in her own writing until asking herself the question 'what would happen if she showed up and put her hand down his pants?' helped un-stick the rather boring plotline of a short story she wanted to write. She was off and running after that.
Jayne welcomes comments from readers. You can find her website and email addresses on her author bio page at www.ellorascave.com.
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Also by Jayne Kingston
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Mr. Sir
ISBN 9781419942617
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Mr. Sir Copyright © 2013 Jayne Kingston
Edited by Briana St. James
Cover design by Fiona Jayde
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Electronic book publication January 2013
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