by Joey W. Hill
Before last night, Madison might have gone wide-eyed and fumble-tongued. Even up until this moment, she'd been mostly focused on her own baggage regarding last night's session, but it had apparently accomplished what Alice had hoped it would. Madison felt an almost audible click as she connected to what Sam was feeling.
"Are they with you now?" Madison nodded toward the door. "In the car, I mean?"
"They're in the hardware store. I think they wanted to come in with me, but you know, lingerie store, they figured it would be all these women . . . actually I think they're being shy."
"What's the other one's name? Chris and . . ."
"Geoff."
"Okay. We should invite them in to shop with you. I'll give them some ideas that will help you figure out if you're right or not. What do you think? Are you feeling brave? Say yes, quick, before I decide I'm not as brave as I think I am today."
Sam's eyes widened, then she chuckled. Pleasure surged in Madison as the smile brightened, Sam making that small step of trust in herself and in the absent men. And in Madison. "Okay, yeah. Why not?"
"Good. I'll get them. You stay here."
Sam looked surprised, but stayed put as Madison pushed out the door and strode toward the hardware-store entrance. Would Logan be there? The very thought had her pulse tapping urgently against her throat.
Stepping into the hardware store, she saw he wasn't in view, which was kind of a relief. She couldn't afford to get distracted, even though her body was already warm all over.
"Chris, Geoff?" She raised her voice enough to carry through the store without shrieking like a fishwife.
A dark-haired man looked up from the shovels. She expected he wasn't really looking, but planted in a half doze, because he had stubble on his attractive jaw, and he held a generous-sized cup of coffee, despite the mid-morning hour. A late-shift job, maybe, such that mid-morning was early for him. His burly build suggested he did a lot of manual labor, perhaps construction work. Or maybe bar bouncer. She was going to assume this one was Chris.
The other man who looked toward her was in the rope aisle, fingering a length of twine with an entirely familiar absorption. She suppressed a smile. His clean-shaven and sharp-eyed appearance suggested young professional, possibly a lawyer. He didn't have Chris's bulk, but his body was lean and toned. Both men would catch female attention.
"Sam needs your opinion on some things next door," she told them. "Don't worry, she's my only client right now. No gaggles of women to scare you off."
Chris grinned. Geoff, though eying her speculatively, gave her a serious smile. They moved toward her, joining up at the top of their respective aisles. She noticed Geoff let Chris slide in front of him. The man Sam thought was a Dominant watched his friend, his gaze sliding over his nape, down the broad back. Since it reminded her of Logan's attention to her or Troy, just far less actualized and confident, she experienced another tiny thrill. Sam might be on the right track.
So was Madison. She knew it. It was all in noticing cues. That was the same, no matter what kind of sales she was doing, but this was more complicated. It was like discovering a story, and once the story was uncovered, she could help with the happy ending. Or beginning, as it were.
As she stepped aside to let them pass, she said, "I'll be over to help you in a moment."
The heat along her skin had increased exponentially, telling her for certain Logan was now behind the front counter. After they stepped out of his store, she let her gaze travel there, a flush rising in her cheeks. It was probably in full bloom by the time she met his gold-brown eyes.
He had his palms braced on the counter, his head cocked as he considered her from head to toe. He took his time about it, no matter the generous scattering of customers throughout the store. She could hear Troy's voice down an aisle, where he was helping someone.
"That's customer poaching," Logan said lazily.
"It's quid pro quo." She sniffed. "All you have to do to cause a stampede from every store on the street is announce Troy is doing a demonstration of . . . anything. How to hammer a nail."
If Troy was shirtless and wearing a tool belt, Logan would probably have to have EMTs on standby for swooning. She didn't add that, but there were a couple female patrons who obviously filled in the blanks, their eyes sparkling their appreciation of her. Which meant two new potential customers might come check out her store, just to see what the cheeky proprietor had to offer.
Logan straightened, sauntering to the end of the counter. The second he started to move she remembered that over-the-top, heated kiss against the wall of his storeroom, his hands on her, his whispered command to come in her ear.
It was hormones. That was all.
"Don't worry," she added, glancing down the rope and fastener aisle. "I'm sure I'll be sending them back your way. We don't have any of that at my place."
"Alice knew it was right next door. Whenever she needed it."
His slow smile made her narrow her gaze. "I have a store to run," she said primly. "I don't have time for you."
The attractive lines around his eyes crinkled. "How about a movie tonight? We can do it at your house, if you're more comfortable there. About eight? Just you and me."
"I'm not sure. Let me think about it." She guessed it was her house now, though she still thought of it as Alice's. That wasn't the source of her hesitation, though. She wasn't imagining them watching a movie. In her mind, he was pushing her onto her back in the bed, holding her wrists to the pillows, his mouth at her throat, his body between her legs . . .
"Remember what I said last night, about me setting the parameters?" He leaned across the counter, dropped his voice down low. "No sex on our second date, Madison. Nothing but two adults watching a movie, getting to know one another better. All right?"
"Maybe. I'll let you know at the end of the day. Though maybe . . . I'd rather wait a few days, all right? A few days."
She backed away and slipped out of the store, catching her toe on the threshold in her haste. As she hurried back to her own store, her whole body was vibrating. She'd wanted him to touch her then and there, in front of people buying bedding plants, lawn implements and power tools.
It was good she'd returned when she did, though. Chris and Geoff had joined Sam, but she was still at the rounder of nightwear, looking at loose ends about how to proceed. Examining their body language, Madison could see the problem right off.
Geoff.
They both deferred to him, probably responding to that subliminal thing Logan emanated like a neon sign. Logan was near forty; Geoff was in his mid-twenties. Logan had fully embraced that side of himself some time ago, perhaps exploring it at the age Geoff was now. Geoff might still be struggling with it, about how two people he cared about would react to the shape and form of his desires.
An electric current connected the three of them, the charged power of unrealized fantasies and desires. She wondered how strong that current had looked between her and Logan a moment ago.
"So . . . there are some pretty things over here I'm thinking you'd like, Sam." She eased her away from the lingerie and toward more of the role-playing clothes. Following intuition, she plucked out a Catholic schoolgirl ensemble. The willowy figure and doelike eyes would be a perfect match for it, down to the frilly panties that barely hid under the short plaid skirt. Geoff sharpened on her choice like a spear, and suddenly Chris seemed far more awake.
"And for Chris . . . hmm." All professional shopkeeper, she perused his serviceable T-shirt and jeans, the woman in her approving of the build the shirt strained to cover. She glanced at Geoff. "What do you think? I'm thinking he doesn't really need a special outfit. Maybe he's the yard boy who can't keep his eyes off of her as she's coming home from school."
"Well, he does mow the grass at our rental house," Sam teased her roommate, laying her hand on the arm holding the coffee. "Even does the weed eating and edging. He needs to start his own landscape business, rather than working for one."
"Then
I'd never have time to mow our grass," he pointed out, giving her a nudge.
"So he already has his costume," Madison mused. "All he needs to do is take off the shirt, work up a bit of a sweat, and there you go."
She gave them a wink, even as she noted Geoff's silent regard, watching Sam and Chris flirt with one another. "Why don't you two look at the options, consider the possibilities? Have fun with it, like playing dress-up when you're kids. Nothing's off limits. I'm going to show Geoff something a little more appropriate for him."
At his surprised look, she guided him away from them with a light touch on his arm. As it became clear she was moving into the Dungeon Room, he paused, his gaze flicking to Chris and Sam as if he wasn't sure if he wanted them to see him headed there. Madison moved smoothly into the room ahead of him and lifted a soft flogger from the wall. "Now this might be good to punish a naughty schoolgirl, but this"--she lifted a heavier slapper, like what Logan had used on Troy--"might be just the thing to keep your yard boy thinking about what you pay him to do, not ogling her."
That got his full attention. The way he moistened his lips, studied the slapper ends sliding over her fingers, told her she was on the right track. He had enough of those Dom vibes that when he raised his steady gaze, the sub inside of her, the one that Logan had coaxed out, shivered, recognizing his potential. Lucky Sam and Chris, if he embraced that side of himself.
Directing him to the shelf of books on the wall, she removed one that had an instructional DVD for Japanese rope tying. She showed him the photographs of restraint designs. He studied one of a man and woman tied together, the Master standing behind them, holding another rope. He was so absorbed in the picture, it gave her time to do the same, remembering last night vividly.
"Imagine doing something like this." She tilted the page toward him. "His genitals are tied down so he can't 'accidentally' get inside her. But she's squirming, excited, rubbing against him. You'd have to spank her to get her to behave. But Chris, being so chivalrous, he wouldn't like that. He'd tell you he'd take the punishment." Just as Troy had done. She gave Geoff a wicked smile. "And you'd be too happy to oblige."
She didn't expect that Geoff, Sam and Chris's needs would be an exact match of her adventure with Troy and Logan, but right now that experience was her best guide for this. She wasn't Alice, after all.
No, she wasn't. But she hadn't been Alice last night. Yet it had all felt familiar to her, despite never having been in that situation before. She expected it was the same for Geoff, because his eyes had sparked at the images she was painting.
"This kind of erotic binding dates from the days of the samurai." She flipped the pages, let him see some more possibilities. The book was nearly fifty dollars. If they bought floggers and a few outfits, she'd be making quite a tidy sum. Chris might work for a landscaper, but Sam's jewelry said she worked in a higher-paying profession. Geoff was young enough to have a lot of student loans, but if he was already working for a firm he'd have some discretionary spending power.
Stop. What was she doing?
She closed the book abruptly, set it back on the shelf. "Will you follow me back to your friends?"
His brow creased, puzzled, but he nodded, following her back to Sam and Chris, who were teasing one another, pointing out the outfit choices. Cop, vampire, clown . . .
"You'd be sooooo irresistible with a red-rubber-ball nose." Sam rolled her eyes. "Like you need help looking like a clown." She reached out to Geoff, taking his hand and drawing him closer. Madison suspected she'd seen his speculative look at her casual touch on Chris's arm, and was balancing it by touching him, trying to send them both a message. This isn't a competition, you idiots. I want both of you. "You'll have to help us choose, Geoff," she complained. "I can't get Chris to be serious."
"I have a suggestion," Madison said. Glancing at Geoff's face, she took her cue from his conflicted expression and hoped she wasn't losing her mind. "Sam has opened a door that I suspect you all have thought about, but maybe not in as much detail as she has."
"Sam, overthinking things? With her OCD personality? Not a chance." Chris said it with a straight face, earning a shove from Geoff and a mock scowl from the young woman.
Madison chuckled. "Men aren't great at asking directions, so someone has to be willing to get out of the car and ask before things get too frustrating." She gestured around the store. "I'm not going anywhere. Why don't you all go down the street to the sandwich shop? They have great breakfast bagels and outdoor seating, and it's a lovely place to relax and chat. You can talk about it. Talk about what each of you really wants."
As she met their eyes in turn, she realized they were listening to her as if she knew what she was talking about. More amazingly, she felt as though she did.
Nothing more dangerous than a little knowledge, she reminded herself dryly, and tried to rein it back, keep it in safe parameters. "I think Sam knows what she wants, but she's afraid of losing or offending either of you by saying it. I also think Geoff knows what he wants, but he's not sure how both of you feel about it. And Chris . . ." She turned her gaze to him, thought of Troy, and couldn't help smiling. "You're the easygoing one of the group. You'll be the one who boils it down to what it is, keeps them both from overthinking it."
He grinned at that, but he had a thoughtful look of his own. With her serious talking points, he'd realized more was happening here than awkward doublespeak and playful costume choices.
"So go talk about it. Go home and play with the idea, play with each other. And then come back to me when you're ready."
"You're not going to sell us anything?" Sam's brow furrowed. "We're interested in--"
"No, she's not going to sell us anything." Geoff cut in, met Madison's gaze. "Not right now. But later."
"Yes, later." She put her hand on Sam's arm. "I could load you up with several hundred dollars' worth of merchandise. But you'd take it home, play with it, then set it aside like a gimmick, vaguely unsatisfied, because you played with the wrapping, not the present. Not what lies beneath the surface. Figure that part out, then you can come back and decide how you want to wrap up the gift."
Sam considered that, then nodded. Impulsively, she covered Madison's hand, squeezed it. "I'm so glad I followed my intuition and came back here. I don't know about your sister, but you seem exactly as my friend described her to me."
The words lanced her heart, painful but not necessarily wrong or bad. "I learned a lot about this kind of thing from her." I just have to open myself to listen. And please God, let Alice be guiding me now so I don't run these three nice people down the wrong path and ruin their lives.
"When you come back, if you come back, I'll be delighted to put you on my frequent buyer reward program," Madison said. "Here, take my card. You can call me if you want to check my inventory from home. We'll have a website running again soon, though I'm always happy to have you come here to see me."
Chris and Sam both looked toward Geoff. Geoff put his hand on Sam's lower back and touched Chris's arm, holding it briefly in a way that had the man giving him a bemused look. "Bagels sound good," he said. "Thank you, ma'am. We appreciate it. We'll be back."
"I hope so." She sent them off with another smile and wave. When the door closed, a sultry Latin tune winding to a finale over the store speakers, she drew a shuddering breath. "Oh my God. Did I really just do that?"
She'd taken over, guiding them toward actualizing their fantasies and improving their sex lives, maybe their very relationship. While in that zone, she'd felt like she'd been doing it for the past ten years, not for these past few minutes. Her first real sale. Nearly. If they came back.
She gave the ceiling a suspicious look. "You're not possessing me, are you, Alice? Because that would really piss me off. I'm not sure about this whole selling-something-by-not-selling-it. It seems like exactly the kind of thing you would do."
But it seemed right to Madison as well.
"She doesn't strike me as the possession type. Though I can arrange fo
r a priest if you need it."
She twisted around to see Logan standing at the opening to her storeroom. "I need to change the locks. The people next door have no respect for privacy."
He chuckled. "Sorry. I was putting something else in my overflow storage and couldn't help overhearing. Well played."
It bolstered her more than she wanted to admit. Riding the feeling, she decided to act on another impulse, with a far greater potential for disaster.
"Okay," she said. "About the movie. My place. A week from Friday. And no sex. Like you said."
Because if she stated the term, he'd honor it, as he had last night. On Friday, when he crossed her threshold with all that out-front sexuality that promised he could leave a woman as satisfied as a cat with a bowl of cream, she'd regret it, but another part of her liked knowing she could trust him like that.
Giving her a nod, his eat-you-with-a-spoon smile, he disappeared. She listened to his steps, taking him back to his store. For the first time in a long time, she felt the excitement of the unexpected, the thrill of . . . infatuation. It was terrifying.
Fortunately, the strains of "Bolero" began, telling her she had more customers. That was exciting as well. She hoped she'd see Geoff, Sam and Chris again, and not just because she needed to pay the rent. She wanted to see how the story turned out . . . or continued . . . or began.
*
"What kind of oil would you prefer, Mrs. Grady? This one has a touch of vanilla, but more importantly, the chemical blend comes closest to replicating your own natural lubricants, working with your body, and helps with the pH balance so you're not as susceptible to infection. Here, I have sample bottles, if you'd like to take one with you rather than committing to a purchase right away."
Madison added the sample bottle to the fifty-something woman's pink bag of merchandise, which included several pairs of stockings for her excellent legs, a remote-controlled, multisetting bullet vibe and the special panties with the insert to hold it.
"Your husband will never look at ballroom dancing the same way," she promised. "But remember what I said. Men tend to think the highest setting is the best one right away. Tell him it's like a dance. You ease into it, twirl and spin, and work up to the crescendo."