by E J Frost
“Pain is never a problem,” I tell her, catching her chin in my hand again, just to feel the softness of her skin under my fingers. “Before I go, show me your favorite tattoo.”
“I like the portrait on your arm the best. Great shading.”
“On you, bold girl.”
The spark softens to a glow. Such a warm glow. A man could bask in that glow and never feel the nip of cold in his bones again.
“It’s on my hip. I’d need to take my pants off.”
“I’m good with that.”
She unbuttons and unzips the dark red leathers she’s wearing and shimmies them down over her sleek hips. Underneath are black, satin panties that tie at each hip with little bow. I want to pull them off with my teeth and lick every inch they’re covering.
Her hip piece is big, covering the whole of her hip and right ass cheek. It’s eye-popping. Pale lilies and roses on heavily inked black and gray scrollwork. There are eyes and numbers worked into the scrolls.
“What are the numbers?”
“Dates,” she says.
She doesn’t explain further, and I don’t press. I’ll explore these hints she’s given me when we’ve built more trust.
“It’s beautiful.”
“Thanks.” She begins to pull up her pants, but I stop her with my fingers on her wrist.
“Can I touch it?”
She nods and I slide my palm over her skin until I feel the ridges the tattoo conceals.
“Surgical?” I ask.
“Uh-huh. Three ops before they told me I’d reached the ‘end point’ of what they could do to repair my hip.”
“What happened?”
“Not something I talk about.”
I file that away for later.
“Surgeons told me the same thing,” I tell her, to create a little more connection between us. “Four ops on my knee and they said there was nothing more they could do. There’s more scar tissue in there than cartilage. It’s why I left the service. I wasn’t up to deployment anymore and the idea of a desk job.” I shake my head. “Not for me.”
“Maybe I should tattoo your knee,” she says wryly.
“If I like your design for the mermaid, I might be up for that.”
She makes a little snorting noise. “Anything’s better than the flounder with boobs on your back.”
“Are you shaming my tattoo?”
“Absolutely.”
“Okay-okay, I agree with you. What’s your favorite food?”
She purses her glossy lips. “Anything spicy. Thai, Chinese, African, Caribbean.”
“The hotter the better, huh, bold girl?” I capture her chin again. “Give me your panties.”
Her pupils expand until her irises are just a thin brown rim. A man could drown in those eyes.
“I’m at work,” she whispers.
“That’s why I’m taking your panties instead of your bra. Take them off.”
She only hesitates a moment before her hands drop to her hips and her fingers tug at the bows.
“You’ll go commando until I give you these back,” I tell her quietly, as I watch her untie her panties. “You may not touch yourself except to clean until after our scene tomorrow.”
“I don’t really do the twenty-four-seven thing,” she whispers.
I haven’t. Not in a long time. Not since Amy. But with this girl, I feel the itch for that level of control. The rightness of it settles in my gut. Something to work towards.
“If I was controlling you like that, you’d know,” I say. “I’m just setting the stage for our scene. Can you obey me that much, bold girl?”
She tugs her panties from between her thighs and holds out the scrap of satin. “Yes, sir.”
Such a beautiful sound, that word from her lips. I’ve heard it for thirty years in different contexts, but it never sounds as good as when a submissive whispers it as she cedes control to me.
“Good girl.” I hold out my hand and she places the skin-warm fabric on my palm. I tuck her panties into my back pocket while she pulls her pants back up. I’m not doing anything as crude as sniffing them in front of her. For now, this is enough.
I dip and kiss the tip of her nose. She’s on the taller side for a woman, five-eight or so. A head shorter than me. Not so short that I’ll have to break my back to kiss her while I’m inside her, which can’t be soon enough. It’s going to take all my control to keep from fucking her during our first scene. I’ve promised myself I won’t, though. I’ve never been interested in a quick bang and even if I was this sad, sad girl isn’t that. I want her to know it right from the off. But, fuck, that’s going to be a hard promise to keep.
She lifts her face. Licks that full lower lip. She wants a kiss. I want to give it to her. I really want to give it to her. My whole body tightens with how much I want to feel that soft mouth against mine. Taste the cinnamon I can smell on her breath.
But it will be better, sweeter, if I make her wait.
“Tomorrow,” I tell her. “Don’t be late to lunch. No kisses for late submissives.”
She swallows hard and takes a step back. “Kisses are overrated.”
“Not my kisses,” I promise her, pulling my sweater back on. “See you tomorrow, bold girl.”
I force myself to leave her, hungry and wanting.
*****
I have a standing invitation at Logan’s. And at Max’s. And at Manny’s. These three men who served under me, who looked to me to lead them and make the right decisions. Three very different men, with very different strengths and weaknesses, who ended up in the same place after leaving my command, working together as a team again. Only this time, Logan’s leading them instead of me.
Logan thinks he’s not worthy; I can’t think of a better man.
I know he’s going to invite me to join them, and as I sit across from him in his home-office, warm with wood paneling and a fire crackling in the fireplace, he doesn’t disappoint. He slides a folder across the desk to me. I flip it open and read through the proposal. It’s generous, because Logan’s a generous man, and detailed, which tells me Max had a hand in it, because Max does detail like no one else. I close the cover and rest my palm on top of it. The cardboard’s not as smooth as Brenna’s skin.
“You don’t owe me anything, Lo,” I say gently.
“You’re wrong about that, sir.”
“Time you started calling me Mac.”
“No, sir.”
I shake my head at him. I appreciate the respect, but I’m having a hard-enough time becoming a civilian without him reminding me of my rank. “I’m not your C.O. anymore. I’m your friend. I appreciate the offer. But I’m not ready.”
“There’s no expiration date on it.”
“Thank you. I can’t think of three finer men to work beside. I mean that.”
“If you’re ever ready, it’s there. Until then, tell me another way I can see you every day.”
I chuckle. “You’d be sick of me within a week.”
“I never was in seven years. Not even on the days you were kicking my ass.” He takes a deep breath and puts his hands flat on the desk. That’s one of Logan’s tells. He always braces himself against something, before he reveals what’s in his heart. “Missed you every day since, sir.”
I could pass it off with a joke, but that would cheapen the gift he’s given me. “I missed you, too, son. I won’t be a stranger.”
“You’re all the way over in Brooklyn.”
“That’s temporary. Just the first place I found. When the lease is up, I’ll find something closer. Besides, I sleep here and at Manny’s more than I sleep in my own bed.”
Logan shakes his head. “I’m not going about this right. We’re planning on converting the attic. If we made a suite for you, would you consider moving in with us? You’d have your own space. Hell, you can pay rent if your pride demands it.”
My pride doesn’t demand anything. My heart might require a defibrillator, though.
It lurches back into rh
ythm after a deep breath. I did not anticipate this. I completely underestimated the depth of Logan’s feelings. That’s not a mistake I’d make with a submissive, and I’ll be kicking myself for a while for making it with this man.
“You and Emily don’t need your own space?”
“We want this to be a family home. You’re family.”
Logan’s the son and the brother I never had, but I never thought he’d want me to live with him.
“Lo.” I rub my hand over my mouth and choose my words carefully. “Let me pay half of the renovation costs and I’d be honored.”
Logan lets out a deep breath. He was afraid I’d refuse.
“Looks like there’s room for another desk in here.” I glance around the large room. Emily has a strange contraption on the far side of the room that holds her laptop and a fancy headset, and there’s a leather couch facing the fireplace. Other than Logan’s desk and some built-in bookcases, the office is empty. It’s just as sparsely furnished as the rest of the house. I can understand his desire for minimalism after living in the cramped quarters aboard ship for eight years. I haven’t bought much furniture myself for the same reason.
“There definitely is. Not sure what you’d need a desk for, though, if you’re not joining Logan, Manny, and Max Incorporated.”
“Every man needs a desk. If for no other reason than to bend his woman over it.”
Logan chuckles.
“Speaking of which, I have a lunch date tomorrow. Anywhere you’d suggest that I can have a private conversation with my date?”
Logan lifts an eyebrow. “Brenna?”
“That’s the one.”
“Huh.”
“What? You think she’s too . . . tattooed for me?”
Logan’s mouth quirks. He knows what I’m really asking.
“Absolutely no judgment.” He holds up his hands. “I met my soul mate at a kink expo. I’m never going to criticize anyone for finding the person who floats their boat. If DirtyGurl does it for you, go for it.”
“Thank you.” I don’t need his permission, but the lack of judgment’s nice. “I will. And if I haven’t said it, I’m happy for you, Lo. Emily’s a sweetheart, and she looks at you like you’ve hung the damn moon.”
“Thanks.” His inability to hold back his shit-eating grin when he thinks of his little girl says it all. “Anyway, please have your date here.”
I figured.
“That would be great.”
“Emily will want to cook.”
I also figured that.
“Tell her I appreciate it, but just this once, I’m going to get take-out. Brenna mentioned she likes African food and it looks like there’s an Ethiopian place near here that delivers.”
Logan nods. “Try the peanut soup. It’s excellent. A little too spicy for Emmy, so we don’t order from there very often, but everything on the menu’s good. I’ll take Emily to Jersey with me tomorrow, so you have the house to yourself.”
“You don’t need to do that.”
“Happy to. Besides, spending the day with my baby girl is no hardship. There’s a kink store connected to the club that carries these dragon dildos. They’re massive. I can’t wait to see the look in her eyes when I show them to her.”
I grin and shake my head at him. “You’re an evil, evil Dom.”
“You’re the first person who told me that was okay. I owe every bit of happiness I have now to you.”
“I think you overestimate my influence, Lo.”
“No, sir, I don’t. My own father didn’t accept my kink. You did. I wouldn’t have gone to Jasmine House if you hadn’t encouraged me. I wouldn’t have joined Blunts. I wouldn’t have found Emily.”
This is what Logan thinks he owes me.
“All I did was admit my own kink. It would have been pretty hypocritical of me to condemn you for what I need myself.”
“World is full of hypocrites.”
“That’s the truth, son. That is the truth. Now . . . tell me more about these dragon dildos.”
*****
I stay for lunch, since Emily’s made buttermilk chicken especially for me. I take the opportunity to make sure she’s okay with the idea of me moving in. Emily’s an open book under most circumstances, but there’s no faking the enthusiasm in her eyes as she answers me.
“Yes, please. How do you say it in the Navy? Aye-aye, Master Mac.”
After laughing at the cute little salute she gives me, I tell her, “I’m not fooled. I know you just want a live-in babysitter.”
“You’ll be the Mac Granddaddy,” she says with a grin.
It’s good to see her joking about it. They’re both handling an ugly situation with humor, but I’m sure underneath, they’re in knots. Logan’s former submissive used him to get pregnant. When her husband found out, he alerted Logan to the baby’s possible paternity. Logan’s gotten custody of the baby, by means he wouldn’t share with me but his eyes went bleak when we talked about it. The baby was born a few weeks ago. There were complications with the birth and she’s in an ICU in London, but when she’s released, she’ll be coming to live with Logan and Emily.
Babies don’t scare me. I’ve never been happier than the six months I took care of Naomi after she was born. But I had nine months to come to terms with the idea of being a father. Logan and Emily have only been together for a short time. He just collared her and got a ring on her finger. And now they’re going to be parents.
“We’ve already sound-proofed the nursery,” Logan says. He takes Emily’s hand and kisses the delicate knuckle above the pink diamond on her third finger.
“Both nurseries?” I wink at them before taking another bite of chicken.
Emily giggles. “Both nurseries.”
Listening to them play doesn’t bother me at all. I’ve been a Dom for a long time; I’ve seen good scenes and bad. But rarely have I witnessed scenes with as much love as Logan and Emily’s, even when he’s flogging the fuck out of her. They’re a pleasure to witness.
“Tell me about your first scene. I’m looking for ideas.”
Emily’s giggles escalate.
“Mutual masturbation in a convention center bathroom,” Logan says with a grimace. “It was impromptu . I could have done better with more time to plan.”
I join Emily in laughing.
“Well, I’ve got time to plan. But I like the mutual masturbation element.”
“There was a belting, too, Daddy. Don’t forget that part,” Emily chirps.
“A belting and mutual masturbation in a public bathroom. You really know how to show a lady a good time,” I tease Logan, who turns crimson.
“Impromptu,” he grumbles.
“And butt stuff,” Emily chirps.
“There was belting, mutual masturbation, and butt stuff in the public bathroom?” I ask.
She giggles wildly. “No, sir. The butt stuff came later. But DirtyGurl really, really likes butt stuff. And erotic humiliation. A lot .”
“A lot , huh? Well, I’m a big fan of both.” And Brenna responded absolutely beautifully to the touch of erotic humiliation in her shop.
“If you’re heading into butt stuff and humiliation with your first scene, then I’d better get you her limits list from the club,” Logan says. “I’ll need her permission.”
“It’d save time, but I’d planned to talk through her limits over lunch anyway.”
“Give her loads of feels,” Emily says. “And lots of aftercare, even if she says she doesn’t need it.”
Has the girl been short on affection and aftercare? That pisses me off.
“Feels and aftercare, roger that,” I confirm. “You’re a good friend to her, sweetie.”
Emily screws up her pretty face. “All I’ve really been able to do is distract her. She’s hurting, and she won’t tell me why.”
“Something went very wrong during her last scene with Ten,” Logan offers.
“It was before that, Daddy,” Emily says. “I mean, I think Master Ten is part
of it, but he’s the symptom rather than the cause.”
“What do you think is the cause, Emmy?” I ask. Logan’s subbie is sensitive, which makes her insightful. Her vulnerability means Logan has to be twice as protective of her, but I don’t think he minds at all.
“I think she wants someone to love her.”
“We all want that, baby doll,” Logan says gently. “Even if we don’t all want it in the same way.”
Emily shakes her head. “I think she wants someone to love her, for her , not because she’s a subbie, or because she’s into butt stuff. I think she wants what we have, Daddy.”
“Ah.” Logan nods.
“What you and your daddy have is pretty special.” I smile at each of them. “I’m thinking I’ll take it slow with her, so she understands I’m not just looking for a play partner. I have more to offer.”
“Good,” Emily says emphatically. “That’s better than Master Theo.”
I lift an eyebrow at her, surprised by her vehemence. “What do you mean by that, sweetie?”
She glances at Logan. That’s a very guilty glance.
“Remember the rules, little girl,” Logan warns.
She turns a brilliant pink. “Sorry. I didn’t mean anything by it, Master Mac.”
Logan clears his throat. “We also have a rule about lying, Emily.”
“That’s not fair! I have to be honest but if I’m honest about Master Theo then I’ll break the other rule.” She shudders. “I don’t want to break your rules, Daddy, and I never, ever want to ride the pony again.”
Jesus, he had her ride a wooden pony for punishment? No wonder she doesn’t want to break a rule.
I hold up my hand to restore the peace. “I’m not trying to get you to break a rule, Emmy. I can guess what you mean.”
“It’s Master Theo who’s mean,” she mutters, darting a glance at Logan.
“Emily,” he growls.
“Well, he is. He was mean to you about the thing with Rick, and he was mean to Laurel, and he was mean to Bren, not giving her cuddles when I told him—”
“Emily, enough. We talked about this. Theo had a job to do during Rick’s stalking, and we have to respect that. He did give Brenna some cuddles.”