Something Real

by Abigail Grey

  She formed the words that her dry throat wouldn’t let escape. Meeting the blue gaze, she found the strength.

  “Caramel,” she croaked weakly. Her eyes drifted closed. In her fog, as her head dropped forward heavily and she felt David pull the blow back, she heard Jen’s voice cry out, “Stop!”

  Aaron ground his fists into his thighs as he waited impatiently. To place himself in the scene would be wrong, no matter how much he craved a touch of her right now. He could feel himself shaking as he saw David’s hands cradling her gently. Knowing there was nothing more than friendly care there didn’t seem to help. A smattering of soft applause, out of consideration for her heightened sense, came from the audience she had gathered.

  Jen approached with a bottle of water and a straw. She extended the beverage, but when the girl reached for it, she seemed to misjudge the distance and her left hand didn’t close to avoid it dropping to the floor. David retrieved the bottle, a muffled noise coming from the girl in response, and he encouraged her to sit upright and drink. Jen placed her silk-lined blanket against the girl’s body. She was hidden from his view, but he felt his chest swell with desperate relief when he saw the water level in the bottle drop. David knelt in front of her, putting himself in her most likely unfocused view. She cringed away, putting her hands out wide to plead for space.

  Using the bench for balance, she made a shaky attempt to stand. Her first stumble put her to her knees behind the bench. Aaron bolted to his feet out of concern, but the mumbled curse stopped him.

  “God damn it,” she muttered. “Jen? I hate your fucking shoes.” The comment was punctuated by two dainty leather boots flying through the air and clattering against the far wall.

  Laughter welled from the crowd, accompanied by a shout of, “That’s right. You show them, bad ass!”

  The girl stood again, her shoulders rolling under the layer of black lace. The movement as she faced away from him called attention to the screaming redness of her back. He mentally congratulated David for not breaking her skin.

  She raised her head, her posture straight. When she turned her face slightly, he saw her wet her lips and peer at him from the corner of her eye. Then she turned her face back to David, and he saw her shake her head in response to a quiet question. Slowly, her eyes on the floor and with a hand on the bench to steady herself, she started to walk toward Aaron.

  His shirt felt too tight. It restricted his breathing. Every shiver of her skin and slide of her stockings against the slick floor made him want to gather her to him. The path that took her a handful of steps felt like miles.

  Finally she stopped before him and her gaze tracked up his body until they met his. Hazel, he realized idly, with flecks of green and gold.

  He noticed then that she had held her hand out to him. Looking from it to her face, to the way her lips tipped in a secret smile, he slid his hand into hers, grasping it gently.

  “I’m Marcy,” she said softly, giving his hand a gentle shake of greeting.

  He grinned, exhaling a low chuckle. “Aaron.”

  Chapter Ten

  Aaron could feel his knee jostling the table as his leg bounced impatiently. With one elbow on the table, his hand braced over his mouth, he read the sentence for a sixth time. He pulled his glasses, necessary for work and reading, off and pinched the bridge of his nose. His eagerness had brought him here twenty minutes early.

  “Aaron?”

  Her soft voice made him drop the frames and bolt from his chair. He suddenly felt awkward as he realized the jerkiness of the motion surprised her. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

  “Sorry, Marcy. I didn’t see you come in.” He stepped closer, his hand wanting to touch her. Seeing her lean away, he cursed himself internally, reminding himself to relax and tone it down. He gestured for her to take the seat opposite him. “I’m glad we could do this.”

  She settled, placing her bag on the floor beside her. “Me too. Thank you for asking me.” Her smile seemed tight and her eyes continually jumped from object to object on the cluttered walls of the local bar.

  Again, Aaron scoffed at himself. She was nervous. His own mood couldn’t be helping, but it was so hard to resist the softness of her after seeing her so strong that night weeks ago. He took another calming breath, ran his hand through his hair and slid his book across to her.

  As she looked down at it, her features softened. She looked up at him with her question. “You bought it?”

  He smiled as those remarkable whiskey-colored eyes met his. “You said it was good. I liked the first one. I actually read the second in just a couple of days. You were right, though. There’s something about this one so far.”

  Her face became animated as she flipped through the pages, her words seeming to trip from her in her excitement over the book they now shared. He leaned closer, his arms crossed and resting on the table to keep from reaching for her again. He could hear her, listened to the description of her favorite characters, even as his mind went back.

  She had been shaky still after they’d met. He had sat on the floor out of consideration for her and she had as well, reclining slightly with her legs tucked under her. He had been able to see now, so clearly, the submissive nature she’d shown in this space. Her head had remained bowed or tilted to one side in order to offer her neck. She’d had trouble meeting his eyes at a time that he’d found himself wanting nothing more. When he’d made a noise of frustration, she had leaned forward, a hand on his knee. He had desperately wanted her curled in his lap where he could protect her vulnerability.

  When David had approached, an anxious Jenny and Lila behind him, Aaron had understood the alphas who growled when another Dominant approached their territory. His rational mind had told him that David was right to interrupt. Marcy had had enough for one night and needed to rest. He’d stood, noting how tiny and fragile she’d seemed from his point of view. He’d bent to place his hands under her elbows to help her stand, but she’d shied away from him. She’d stood on her own, a wound that he was reminded of now, and had left with the family that had brought her.

  Their conversation today began by flowing easily, erasing some of the initial anticipatory nerves. Over drinks, hers a white wine and his a draft beer before dinner, they found they could discuss books and movies and music to a common enough degree. With the level of agreement they remained on, little to no argument on styles and genres, the small talk became stale as their meals arrived.

  Aaron racked his brain for a new topic as they began to eat in silence. “Um, how is it?” He cringed inwardly at the trite question.

  “Good, thank you. I wasn’t sure how spicy the sauce would be, but it’s pleasant. How is yours?” He smiled as she showed her distaste for the shallow conversation in a grimace. Her face was so expressive. He chuckled.

  Marcy looked up and a smile, accompanied by a light laugh of her own, spread across her lips. “We sound ridiculous, don’t we?” she asked. “Like some blind date.”

  “Yeah,” he replied. Leaning closer as she sipped her wine, he smirked. “It’s almost like I didn’t just watch you take a beating a few weeks ago. I can’t even explain how impressive that was.”

  Marcy’s eyes went wide and she clapped a hand over her mouth, an unladylike snort coming from her. Then she glanced around as if to see whether the occupants had heard him. After swallowing the mouthful, she laughed. “Naughty,” she chastised. “I didn’t think you’d bring that up!”

  Aaron shrugged. “How couldn’t I?” His eyes roved over her, from her head to where her ribs met the edge of the table. “You looked just as beautiful then as you do now.”

  She tucked a curl behind her ear, looking down at the tabletop. “Thank you,” she said quietly. “Jen and Lila dolled me up that night. I hardly felt like me. You know what I mean? It was like playing a part.”

  “Actually, I do. Warren and Trevor’s does feel a little like a stage sometimes. Drama, comedy, costumes… They’ve got it all.” Aaron smiled, thinkin
g of the things he had seen within those walls. “I’m not sure how many stories David and Jen have told you, but there have been some good ones there. Many have been passed around so much that they’re like legend.”

  Her eyes shone with curiosity. “Will you tell me one? Something legendary?” She took another dainty bite, and he got distracted momentarily by her lips closing around her fork. Their fullness closing around parts of his anatomy came to mind—his finger, his own lips, his… He recovered a safer train of thought, pretending to have taken the moment to think.

  “Did they tell you about Trevor’s twenty-first?”

  When she shook her head, he grinned. “Okay. Trevor used to be a dancer. Not like Arthur Murray, Broadway or Swan Lake, I mean more Chippendales and bachelorette parties. Through the grapevine he hears about these parties.” Aaron leaned back in his chair, toying with the half-empty pint glass. “I can never follow the grapevine he heard from. All I know is that somehow he ended up out at Warren’s one night. So we have this vanilla kid out at a kink party.”

  “Oh, no,” Marcy breathed, a knowing grin breaking out. She leaned forward, her elbows on the table and her meal forgotten.

  “Oh, yeah. So he’s walking around with this deer in the headlights look, staring at everything that’s going on. He sees his first fisting, watches some girl get a corset lacing. It was easily the weirdest night for a newbie to be there. So he starts drinking. I don’t even know who he had come in with, but he ends up falling face down over Sara’s lap. She was having a good night, so she pulled him up and started dancing with him. When I found them, they were in the middle of this mosh pit grinding on each other. Trevor had started stripping. Sara was already half naked from the scene we had done earlier with some other girl, and they’re both making out with six people at the same time. It almost turned into this giant orgy until a fight broke out.”

  Aaron heard Marcy gasp and looked up at her. She seemed so involved in the story, her eyes wide and concerned. “What happened?” she breathed. “Did anyone get hurt?”

  “I can’t say no, but nothing serious. A few scrapes and bruises, but those could have been from any other activities from earlier in the night.” Aaron leaned forward again, his elbows on the table. “But for our young vanilla friend, all he sees are leather-clad Amazons and big burly Daddy bears getting into some brawl over who knows what. So he grabs Sara and bolts…straight into the pool.”

  They shared a laugh, Aaron remembering the image as Marcy imagined it. He took a drink from his beer before continuing, “By the time they’re fished out, soaked, Warren had come down to break up the fight. So Trevor stands there in nothing but his very brief briefs, this long, shaggy hair hanging down and Warren can’t even put two words together. They’ve been a couple ever since.”

  Marcy’s smile seemed wistful and her eyes again met the tabletop. “That’s a great story. I only met them, didn’t really talk or anything, but they seemed to fit well together.”

  Aaron nodded, absently looking off into the distance, noting the bartender’s slow creation of a drink for a customer. “They do. Warren likes having someone to spoil and Trevor likes having someone to cook for. And they’re both ridiculously good at entertaining. Even when it’s not a big party, they’re great hosts. Sara and Trevor used to try to out-chef each other, so I spent quite a bit of time with them.” His eyes met Marcy’s again when she made an assessing ‘hmm’ quietly. “What is it?”

  Marcy’s lips twisted, a wry smile lifting one corner of her lips. “You miss her.”

  Aaron noted that she wasn’t asking, but chose to answer anyway. “Yeah, I do. She was important. We were together a while.”

  Marcy went back to eating, her posture straight and her questions politely interested. “Kayla mentioned you knew each other quite a while. Was it—” Her eyes jumped to the nearby table, nervously as though she measured their interest in the conversation. “Was she collared?”

  “Yeah.” Aaron sighed deeply. “Yeah. Yes. She was. My first. Not first submissive, but first collar. First live-in.”

  “First love?”

  The quietly intuitive question made Aaron smile. “That, too.”

  “She left because of work, didn’t she?”

  “She did. It was hard, but I think she’s happy where she is. I haven’t heard much from her lately, but I like to think she’s okay and moving on now.” Aaron gave Marcy a small smile. “I think I am, too.” His smile grew wider as hers came in reply.

  Chapter Eleven

  Marcy set her purse on the chair, kicking off her heels. She took the clip out of her hair, letting the weight of it settle around her shoulders as she fished her phone out of the bag. It vibrated in her hand.

  In greeting, she said, “Seriously, is it a sixth sense or what?”

  “Oh, you’re home? Fantastic! How was it?” Jen’s exuberance, paired with her apparent ignorance of Marcy’s question, was infectious.

  Marcy smiled, sinking onto her couch. “I’m fine, Jen. How are you?”

  “Oh, Marcy, you know I’m just excited. You’re the first girl Aaron’s gone out with since Sara left! I had all but considered him a lost cause. Did he talk about her? Did he tell you he works with David? Did he talk about the party? You didn’t tell me you knew him!”

  Marcy waited quietly for Jen’s bubbly interrogation to lose steam.

  Jenny wrapped her barrage of questions up with a heavy sigh. “Oh, Marce. I should have known. I feel like such an idiot for throwing all those submissive guys at you. Why didn’t you say anything?”

  Staring at the blank gray of the television screen, Marcy considered her answer carefully. “Jen, I just was happy you took an interest. I wasn’t ready for anyone serious.” She idly traced the pattern of her couch. “I had a rough time. I had a good group before I moved, but a lapse in judgment. I just wasn’t ready to trust someone else again. So, those guys were safe, you know?”

  “Oh, honey.” Jenny’s concern was clear. “How bad?”

  After a moment of silence, Marcy responded, “Bad.” As usual, she marveled at Jen’s way of focusing on the real point of a statement, not just the surface as so many other people did. She listened to understand, not just to respond. She heard the quiet background murmurs before Jen returned to the call.

  “I’m coming over.”

  Marcy smiled. “Thanks, Jen, but you really don’t need to. I’m okay. I had a good day at work, a great date and I’m just ready to call it a night. We’ll talk soon, though, okay?”

  “Are you sure, Marce? I’m here to listen if you need it. You can talk to me.” Jen seemed eager for the conversation, but Marcy knew it was her role as the ‘mother to all’ that she enjoyed.

  “Positive. But thanks, Jen.”

  “Okay.” Jen still sounded unsure, but accepting. “Hey, Marce, I’m going to pass you to David.”

  Marcy’s lips lifted in a small smile. “Sure, Jen. Thanks. Have a good night, okay?”

  “Night, hon.”

  Marcy could hear the passing of the phone and David’s hushed way of shooing his wife from the room before he came on the line.

  “How’re you doing, Marce?”

  Marcy’s smile grew. “I’m good, David, thank you.” Since the night of the party, he had made a point of checking in with her. It seemed she had joined the ranks of submissives that he felt protective of, though the flogging had been at her request. “How was your day?”

  “Fair. Work was work and the guy I share an office with was being a little annoying.”

  Marcy could hear the teasing tone in his voice and felt herself blush. Keeping a deliberately light lilt to her speech, she laughed. “Oh? How so?”

  “He kept talking about this girl he was going out with tonight. Thought maybe I would know something about her—like if she likes flowers…or wine…or cupcakes.” David’s chuckle warmed Marcy. “Girl, you have that boy hooked.”

  Marcy groaned. “Oh, David, don’t say that. I don’t need any more reasons
to think about him than I already have.”

  “Okay, kid, I won’t. But I will say, if you decide to play with him, he’s a good guy. I’ve watched him before with Sara and other people the two of them played with, and he’s good.”

  Marcy’s face warmed further. “Thanks, David. I’m going to go now before you ruin the mystery. Talk to you later.”

  “Goodnight, Marce,” he replied on another chuckle, followed by the beep of the disconnection.

  Marcy plugged her phone in to charge at her bedside, her mind preoccupied. David’s comment had her curious now. How would Aaron play? The conversation on their date had been fairly vanilla, with the exception of the few comments he’d made and the story of Trevor’s first encounter.

  The possibilities kept swirling in her mind as she completed her nightly routine. As she removed her makeup, she imagined him with gentle hands on her skin. The feeling of his fingers on her cheek, down the side of her neck, stroking the inside of her forearms. She brushed her hair while picturing how his arms would flex as he gripped her wrists or her hips. Her toothbrush worked in lazy circles as her mind worked on deeper desires. Would he favor the sadism or the sensuality? She smiled a bit as she imagined his voice in her ear. Could it be that he was a talker during play?

  She rinsed the toothbrush, taking a moment to stare into the mirror while her mind continued to wander. He had seemed twitchy after they had, finally, officially met. She had trembled, her legs shaky, when their hands had clasped. Being barefoot in front of him had been a severe reminder of how much taller he was. She had zeroed in on his lips as the endorphins coursing through her had demanded more—more contact, more play, more sensation.

  He had bent closer to her as she had shivered again. His legs had folded in a way that seemed awkward for him, sitting cross-legged on the floor. He had invited her, not commanded her, to sit with him for a minute. Feeling as though she had been remembering something from as far away as a past life, Marcy had knelt. When she’d settled into the position, she had heard a wistful exhale from him.