by Adira August
The men were quiet.
“Where’s Ben?”
AVIA FOLLOWED THE PATH they’d pointed out to what they called the sound stage. It looked like an old barn in need of a coat of paint.
There was a standard door with new-looking red light over it, but the wires were hanging loose. She slipped inside the darkened building. There were voices. Faint.
She waited for her eyes to adjust. It was a mostly empty shell in the midst of renovation that smelled strongly of coffee.
All the activity was centered in the far corner where three cameras, one on some kind of spiderlike crane, were pointed at what looked like an upscale bar. Next to it, was a set for the club manager’s office.
She moved closer and recognized the rangy, good-looking man in the black leather jacket as Hunter Dane. Wood had warned her. She came up behind Camden Snow sitting in a canvas chair watching the action, and took the chair next to him.
He nodded to her. Looking around, Avia spotted Ben next to a slender young man who looked to be about seventeen, gawky and intense, focused on a monitor showing the action. He had three monitors, one for each camera.
She didn’t see any microphones overhead. The actors must be miked. She leaned over to Cam and whispered. “Who’s the kid with Ben?”
“Jebulon. One name. Like ‘Madonna.’ The director. He’s done some rock videos.”
“They still make rock videos?”
“Very popular on YouTube,” he said, his eyes on Hunter.
There were several people on the set. Three women, one a strikingly attractive blond in her twenties. A thirty-something brunette chatting with the bartender. And a rather plain red-headed girl, a little plump, a little awed, at the very end of the bar next to the wall. She wanted the bartender’s attention and wasn’t close to getting it.
Hunter was in the office set, leaning on the desk with a cell to his ear.
“What’s the setup?” she asked Cam. “Is Hunt going to do porn, now?”
Cam smiled. “Ben asked him to do a demonstration for everyone of what a Dom is, a straight one. Basically, they’re making an instruction video. The actors have general instructions, but they’re ad-libbing a lot. It’s supposed to be a BDSM club. Hunt’s the manager. Imagine more people in the bar.”
“Thanks.”
The set was brightly lit, the studio darker. Ben was at the edge of the light. Jebulon walked over to the office and gave Hunter a thumbs-up. He said something into a headset and a camera moved in on Hunt.
The young director went back behind the monitors and watched them, not the action in front of him. Ben watched the action.
Hunter took off his leather jacket and tossed it over a chairback. He was wearing a skin-tight beige T with a deep V-neck. His pants were dark brown and cut in some clever way that accentuated his fine ass and cupped his package while allowing the legs to hang straight down to polished loafers. He wore a wide and black leather belt with a double brass loop buckle. The excess strap, tucked and wrapped, ended in a vee that pointed down at his crotch.
He was a day or two unshaven and his hair was loose, the shock that always graced his forehead artfully arranged over one eye. His already thick, dark lashes might have been mascara-enhanced. Or might just be all Hunter Dane.
In any case, Avia thought he looked knee-weakening. Hunter turned and stretched for the camera—showing himself off. Reaching for keys, putting his cell away, making a note.
He left the office and entered the bar, and it was clear the women thought him just as delectable as Avia did. The chubby girl’s mouth dropped open. The blond perked right up—at least her tits did as she shoved them out to lead the way straight to Hunter.
She placed herself in front of him and took up a hip sprung stance, her head cocked back to look into his face.
“You must be Gideon,” she said in her best seductive tone.
He looked her up and down but didn’t say anything.
The girl pouted. “You won’t talk to me?” Then she made a mistake. She laid one hand on Hunter’s pec. “You aren’t shy, right? I just want to make you feel good.”
His hand covered hers and a second later she cried out in pain on her knees in front of him, her hand twisted sideways and bent back, his thumb digging in between fine bones.
“When I want a sub, I let them know,” he told her. “When I want a cheap slut, I’ll have someone call you.”
He let go of her and continued to the bar. “Dove. How’s the action?”
The bartender, a sweet island boy with blond-streaked locks, slid him a seltzer and lime without being asked. “About average for a Wednesday. A few newbs.”
“You just put one on the floor, by the way,” the brunette named Stacy, said.
He ran his hand through his hair and leaned back against the bar. “She needs flogging. Not in the mood.”
“Try Little Miss Muffet, down there.” She chin-pointed him to the end of the bar. Dove giggled.
Hunter/Gideon put his drink on the bar and sauntered down to the ginger girl so out-of-place dressed in her best. So ripe for picking, cowering on a barstool, following his progress. She glanced around as if he might be targeting someone else. It was her. Her eyes widened with every step he took to her.
Now, she fit right in.
Hunter stopped in front of her, less than a foot away. Hands on hips, he looked her over and caught her uncertain gaze in his own laser-sharp one. Her wide eyes fell.
“You are?”
“Emily,” she whispered to her lap.
“Speak up when you answer me,” he said. An instruction, not an order.
She took a shuddering breath and raised her head until she was staring at his abdomen.
“Emily,” she said clearly.
“LOOK AT HIM,” Cam whispered to Avia. “Look how he holds his body. Just twisted enough to outline every ridge and swell. See how he hooks his thumbs in his pants pockets? He pulls just enough so they outline his cock. He’s not even hard, yet. See her staring at his junk and that little ‘gotcha’ smirk on his face?”
Avia saw Emily looking exactly where Cam described.
“When he gets her to look up”—Cam went on like a proud parent at a school play—“he’ll cross his arms over his chest, tightening the shirt across his pecs, highlighting the muscles in his forearms. His biceps will pop, stretch his sleeves. She’ll be hypnotized by the sight of him, close enough to touch.”
“Is it in the script?” Avia asked.
“It’s in him,” Cam said, eyes bright, fixed on Hunter. “You can’t script that. It’s just Hunter Fucking Dane showing how it’s done. Hart’s idea is no one fakes anything. When Hunter makes her come, she really will.”
“DO YOU KNOW WHO I AM?”
Emily couldn’t believe she’d given him her real name instead of her character’s name. She shifted slightly on the padded leather seat of the barstool. She’d never noticed before that seats like this massaged her private places when she moved.
“Gideon?” She didn’t know where to look. It might embarrass him to know she could see the outline of the top ridge and bulge of the column of his penis so well. Higher up, his stomach moved in and out with each breath, his body - belly - flat and tight - rose and fell. A gleam of light slid back and forth over the metal loops of his belt.
She caught her lower lip. Her privates were aching.
“Look at me.”
His voice was like dark chocolate melting over her raw nerves. His tone was firm but caring, somehow. Like a good teacher, someone you could trust.
She looked up. He penetrated her. Not just his eyes, his beautiful slightly almond-shaped, lash-fringed, deep …
“Just that?”
Just what? She shook her head. He smirked just the slightest bit and put one finger under her chin, lifting. “Just Gideon?”
Her throat tightened. A high, soft moan escaped her.
“Is it”—her whole vulva spasmed, and she grabbed the sides of her seat—”master? M
aster Gideon?”
His thumb slipped over her bottom lip. “That’s it. Good girl. This is your first time?”
Emily hesitated, deciphering his question. “You mean here?”
He pinched her lip just a little, just enough to almost be pain. “You always use a Master’s name when you answer him, Emily.” He loosened his hold.
Emily felt her clit throbbing. She wondered if he would do that again. “Yes, Master Gideon.”
“Are you a virgin?”
“No, Master Gideon.”
“Was it good for you before?”
She flushed hard. “No, Master Gideon.”
He nodded as if he expected this answer. He stroked one russet eyebrow and trailed his fingertip along her cheekbone to outline one ear. He smiled kindly at her. “It will be this time.”
He stepped back and waited.
She slipped off the stool and swayed a little when her feet touched the floor.
THE CAMERAS SHIFTED TO THE OFFICE, in place before he’d led her the few steps to it and over to the desk. He sat on the desk and had her stand between his spread knees.
“You don’t mind him do this?” Avia asked Cam. “It doesn’t make you jealous?”
“It makes me hard,” Cam answered. “I watched him do this at the club for years. The understated power. The elegance of his body, graceful movements. Everything measured, intended. Perfectly controlled. It made me want to own him.”
“But now you do,” she said. “I don’t understand why this is okay with you, for him to be with other people.”
He turned a frosty gaze on her. “You don’t approve?”
“I don’t understand. I’m—we’re having trouble. You and Hunter, you seem so perfect together. I need to know how can you accept this?”
“I accept him. This is who he is. He’s a switch. He’s a Dom as much as any Dom. More than most. When he’s with me, all that power and control and grace—all that makes him Hunter Dane—he surrenders to me. Watching him be who he is, is watching him be all of what I want.”
He looked her over. “He hits your hot buttons, too.”
“Sure,” she shrugged. “I’m human.”
“You want him.”
“No.” She shook her head and looked him toward Ben. “I can’t imagine being with anyone else. Letting them touch me. It makes me cold to even think about. Hunt’s hot; he thinks I am, too. But it’s like something we take note of. Like the weather.”
“Okay.” He weighed her words. “Okay,” he repeated.
They turned back to the action. Hunter was questioning and instructing. Seducing. Safe words. Limits. Needs. Punishment.
He kept touching her. Pushing a strand of hair from her forehead. Running a finger along her collar. Stroking the back of two fingers along her cheek. Telling her in detail what he would do to her.
Emily leaned into his touch, a tabby arching into its owner’s hand.
Hunter spoke a single word.
Emily dropped to her knees.
There was a restive simultaneous movement from the crew, as if a wave of energy had pulsed through them.
“You might want to know I’m leaving Hunter’s team.”
“Why?” she asked, distracted from the sight of Emily unbuckling Hunt’s belt.
He gave a slight shake of his head and went on without answering her. “My job will open up at the end of the summer. Hunt’s going to ask you to take it. I’ll be around to answer questions.” He gave her a quick, approving glance. “I’ve read you. If you did your own research, you’d do okay.”
She automatically sought Ben, next to Jebulon. As if he felt her eyes on him, he turned slightly and found her.
Ben walked toward her. She stood up. She didn’t notice when Cam slipped away.
Ben stopped in front of her: two people battling to not throw themselves into each other’s arms.
He took a step past her toward the door.
She followed.
IN HIS OFFICE, BEN LOCKED THE DOOR. He turned off his phone, sat back against his desk. Hands clasped in front, he waited for her to speak.
“You had Wood tell me,” Avia said without preamble, not trying to conceal her pain. “It could have waited a couple days, Ben. You could have told me yourself. You pawned off something this critical to me, to my babysitter. You had Wood handle my feelings because you have the wherewithal to hire it out so you didn’t have to be bothered?”
His hands tightened into fists, but he kept his voice even. “Do you believe that’s the kind of man I am?”
“I’m telling you I don’t know what to believe. I’m telling you how I felt about what you did to me. I’m asking. Actually asking.”
She went up to him, into his space. With him leaning back on the desktop, their eyes were level with one another. “I’m not playing some game and trying to generate an argument. I’m telling you I need an answer because I’m not sure anymore what kind of man you are. The way I reacted to this is completely reasonable and you explaining to me why you did what you did is reasonable, too. What the hell was the big hurry?”
He sighed and ran his hands through his hair, creating a mildly chaotic sea of dark waves. “It was the TPE. I knew it would make you feel safer. But in my presence, I didn’t think you’d have felt free to have your feelings, much less express them. To scream at me or—walk away.”
He crossed his arms over his stomach as if it ached. “I don’t think I’m the best one to take care of you when you hate me. I planned it before I left, that after Hank came back and Hugo was told, that Wood would tell you. I knew he’d take care of you. I knew you’d need time.” He looked at her, then. “You were able to safeword. So it worked.”
“Happy about that are you, Hart?” She stalked away from him. “Are you always going to be an arrogant, controlling ass? Or is it the PTSD that made you do something that disrespectful and dismissive of me?”
“I’m not-”
“I swear to God, Ben, your eyes are going to turn brown from being this full of shit. You could have suspended the TPE. Met me in a hotel I could throw you out of. Flown back to Denver for a day or so. You had a lot of options if your concern was me.”
She waited for a response, but he only pressed his lips into a line and waited for her to go on.
“Facing me meant being subject to my feelings and reactions. You thought if I left you, at least you didn’t have suffer through the scene where I leave. If I stay, Woodward will have helped me through my rage and hurt and disappointment. You get back a repaired sexual support device ready for re-installation.”
He blanched. “You can’t believe that.”
“Of course I believe that! It’s what you did! So tell me. Now. Is this who you are?”
He looked absolutely stricken. “My job is to take care of you.”
“You’re goddamn right it is! But you can’t do that unless I tell you what I need. You don’t get to be both of us, Benedict Valor Hart!” She pointed at him, her arm outstretched. “What’s my job?”
His brows pulled together and his mouth turned down. He looked at the floor and back up at her. “You’re job is to love me.”
Avia’s arm dropped to her side. “Correct. And when you take care of me, what are you doing?”
“Loving you,” he said as if it was obvious.
“Right. So when I love you, how do I do that?”
He shook his head as if the answer couldn’t be right.
“For God’s sake, Ben, how can I marry you if you won’t let me take care of you? If you won’t let me love you? You sent me to a goddamned repair shop, Ben!”
“Marry me?” He asked, hope in his voice.
“Ecstasy!” she shouted at him. “That’s what you promised me, and that’s what I expect. To be ‘oned’ with you. To be more together than either of us separately. To become that because we’re together.”
She stalked away and came back. “I don’t need you. You only have one thing I really want.”
“What?�
��
“To know where Berthe buys your coffee.”
“We grow it here,” he said gesturing at the green hillsides of the ranch. “You can’t buy it anywhere.”
“Of course you do. In that case, I could do without.”
“I see. So we’re done?”
“How the fuck can I be done when I’m marrying you?”
“But-”
“Ecstasy, dammit! That’s what I want, and I only want it with you. I get to take care of you. You and I share everything with each other. You said ‘no lies ever’ when we started. I’m telling you no secrets ever; it’s just another way of lying. Except for presents that are surprises. That’s the fucking rule, Hart, and it’s the hardest damned limit there is. And I want a really, really nice ring. And a long engagement because I want to be sure you aren’t going to do this shit anymore. I’m going to be your wife, which means your lifetime Companion and you’ll be mine. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Avia. I understand.” He blinked hard. “But I’m probably still going to be an arrogant, controlling ass sometimes.”
“Yes, you are,” she said walking up to him. “Except you’re going to be that with me.”
“You’re going to be an arrogant, controlling ass, too?”
“I’m going to be willful, self-centered and contumacious.”
“Okay, then.” He straightened up. “I fucked up. I need to—reconfigure my operating system. And I will. Can I… I mean, do you need anything from me now?”
“Oh, God, yes.” She slumped and took his place leaning against the desk, pulling him by the hand to face her, leaning her forehead on his chest. “Can we go back to TPE, now? Is it okay to ask? Hunter said I ‘top from the bottom’ but I don’t mean to. It’s just I’m so worn out from all this decision-making and emotional shit, and I’d like to just not be away from you at all, like you said befo-”
His mouth covered hers and his arms encircled her and he pulled her so tightly to his body neither of them could tell where one began and the other ended. And neither moved. They were just there, in that moment, even their tongues in each other’s mouths were pressed but still as they breathed each other in and felt each other’s hearts beat.