Crossing the Lines (35 page)

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Authors: M.Q. Barber

BOOK: Crossing the Lines
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He grinned. “Nope. That’s ’cause I want to.”

Grabbing her hands, he bounced with excitement, his anxious mood lifted. “C’mon. The sooner we get back, the sooner Henry will have something for us to do. It’ll be fantastic, I know it. He’ll wanna make sure William has a good time watching. He feels bad for him, I think.”

“Because of his wife?”

Jay unlocked the door.

“Yup.” They stepped into the hall together. “Henry’s finally got everything he wants, and his friend’s trapped in a loveless wreck of a marriage.”

“Were they ever…” Henry and William’s past probably wasn’t her business.
Everything he wants. Jay…and me?

“I don’t think so.” Jay shrugged as they hit the stairs. “If they were, he’s never said so to me.”

They threaded their way through the people, avoiding contact, keeping their eyes averted, speaking only to each other. Wearing the red ribbon invited relaxation in its way. Private. No social pressure to greet strangers or interact.

“…something visual, I bet.”

Whoops. She’d missed the start of Jay’s giddy chatter.

“He’ll want to put on a show. And you’ve got that gorgeous corset on. D’you think I could make you come from sucking your tits?” He came to a dead stop and stared at her chest, on full display above the edge of the corset. “I bet I could, if Henry talked to you. I bet anything could make you come if Henry were talking.”

She blushed, but she didn’t deny it.

“I
thought
that was my stray bitch. It’s been so long since I’ve played with him.”

Jay paled. His arm shot out in front of her, crossing her body and gripping her hip, pushing her toward his back.

“I wonder, does he remember me at all? Does he remember how much he wanted to please me? How he begged? He used to beg so prettily for my attention like the little cock slut he is.” The strange voice was male. Mean. Snide. Legs circled in front of them, black pants with shiny shoes at the bottom.

Trembling, Jay backed away, forcing her to move with him, toward the wall.

She squeezed his hand on her hip. “Jay?”

No response. The pants circled in closer. Her chest tightened. Jay’s anxiety bled through their linked hands and into her.

“Henry’s waiting,” she hissed in his ear.

He didn’t react. That wasn’t possible. Jay would never ignore Henry’s desires.

“We should go. For Henry
.

The pants moved closer, and the chest above them came into view. Bare. Waxed and muscled in the manner of a desperate man pretending he was still a twenty-two-year-old stud.

“Is his skin still as I recall it?” The stranger lifted his hand. “Does his back bear my marks yet? Perhaps he’ll turn and show me. A good boy would.”

Marks? Jay’s back wasn’t marked. Why…oh Jesus. The guy who’d hurt Jay. What the fuck was his name?

The hand drifted closer. This man could never be allowed to touch Jay. Henry would be livid.

She slipped out of Jay’s grasp and slid in front of him, blocking the stranger’s access.

“Oh, I see. What a treasure.” The fingers hung in the air an inch from her breasts, from the red bow Henry had tied there.

She pressed her back against Jay’s chest.

“My cock slut has found a kitten to play with. Perhaps this little pussy is as hungry for my cock as he is. Such…fair…skin.”

The fingers skimmed through the air over her breasts. If she breathed too deeply, they’d brush her skin.

“I wonder, what would it take to split it open?”

Jay moaned, the pained sound of an animal caught in barbed wire and unable to yank itself free. Anxiety blossomed into anger. She shoved Jay back with a powerful hip thrust.

“Mmmm, delicious. He even lets the kitten push him around, does he?” The stranger followed them forward, reclaiming the space she’d gained. “Still the poor little lost boy.”

Jay was pressed to the wall. She couldn’t retreat further. No one passing paid any attention. Why would they? For all they knew, this stranger owned them.

“He needs a whipping to remind him of who he is. Upstairs. I’ll finish what was rudely interrupted.”

Jay shook at her back. The urgent need to get him away from this man pounded at her skull.

She tried to sidestep, tried to tug Jay along with her without letting the stranger touch her. She lacked the leverage to get Jay moving, and the stranger matched her movement. She growled.

“Adorable. The kitten, too.” The stranger’s voice lowered and took on a singsong quality. “If someone’s a good boy, he can watch me fuck her after his whipping.”

A steady stream of mumbling penetrated her ear. Jay, moaning the word “no” again and again.

God-fucking-dammit.

She needed help. She wouldn’t get it so long as this man looked like a dominant playing with his own off-limits subs. Shaking with anger and fear, with Henry’s explanation of the club’s rules of proper conduct a clanging refrain in her mind, she lifted her head and stared straight into the stranger’s eyes.

Pretty, in an overdone sort of way, he sported spiky black hair and trimmed eyebrows over cold blue eyes. She took the deepest breath she dared, given his hand lingering near her breasts, and raised her voice to cut through the chatter around them. “Our master is expecting us. You’re in my way. Please step aside.”

Heads turned in their direction. A man on a bench along the opposite wall put his hand on his partner’s head, and the motion in his lap stopped. His gaze skated over her and Jay, but he didn’t linger, and he didn’t address them. “Those aren’t your toys? The red-flagged pair?”

The jackass shrugged. “I know their dom.” His tone conveyed arrogance and annoyance. “We go way back.”

“Still. Talk to their dom. Not them.”

“I wasn’t talking
to
them. I was thinking aloud.”

“Back up and think quieter before I send my pet for a bouncer.”

Thank you thank you thank you.

The jackass stepped back, palms up in an I’m-innocent gesture. “The girl’s the one who offended me. She’s horribly trained. Clearly she doesn’t belong here at all—certainly not wandering around without supervision.”

Nobody’s buying your act, you fucking ass.

She wrapped her hands around Jay’s arm and yanked him along with her. He stumbled but kept his feet. She whispered a running stream of encouragement. “C’mon, you can do this, Jay, walk, please, we’ll go see Henry—”

“Yes, let’s go see your master. Perhaps he’ll have me punish you for your insolence myself.”

Jay shuddered under her hands. “Jay, you know that won’t happen. Henry won’t let it.” She quickened her pace, dragging Jay in her wake. “Don’t listen, okay? Just listen to me.” The big room loomed in the distance. “Henry will make everything better, I promise.”

There. That grouping of chairs, less than twenty feet now, and Henry stood at their approach. God, let his frown be for the man following them and not her.

He intercepted her hand on its way to his shoulder, clasping her hand in his and letting it drop. She hoped he recognized the fear in Jay’s eyes. The jackass had stopped his loud muttering somewhere along the way.

“Jay, at my side, please. Waiting pose.” Henry’s voice seemed the key to unlocking Jay.

He dropped to his knees with painful swiftness and rested his head against Henry’s thigh. His relieved shudder when Henry stroked his hair rippled through her. The familiar pose probably comforted Jay. But anxiety, anger and fear simmered in her.

“Alice?”

He’d make things better. She’d tell him, and he’d handle it, and she wouldn’t need to do anything but follow his rules.

Rules she’d already broken.

“There’s a man,” she blurted. “He knows Jay somehow…from years ago.”

She kept her suspicion to herself. Henry would read between the lines anyway. “I broke the rules, sir. I’m sorry. Jay got upset and I didn’t know what else to do.”

“Did you touch the man?” Henry scanned the room past her head.

“No. But I spoke to him. And I raised my eyes. Sir.”

“Is that him?” Hand under her chin, he turned her face gently.

The jackass had stopped about ten feet away.

“Yes, sir.”

Henry sighed. “One would hope he had sharpened his skills in the last five years, but perhaps he’s only sharpened his cruelty.”

He trailed his fingers down the side of her neck in a soothing caress before his palm landed heavily on her shoulder. “He’ll wait to see that you’re disciplined for it. If I don’t handle it, he’ll report it as an infraction to be handled through mediation, which could result in a recommendation that he deliver the discipline himself.”

Frowning, he bowed his head. “I won’t allow his hands on you. Not either of you. Will you trust me in this, my dear?”

Considerate and patient, despite her fuckup. She could use her safeword, and he wouldn’t force her to submit. Even if he’d lose respect here or face sanctions for her behavior.

His style of dominance channeled more caretaker than bully. His primary concern was her. Her health and safety, emotional as well as physical. If she couldn’t do this, he wouldn’t make her. But she did trust him, and she had disobeyed him.

“I knew the rules, sir. You were clear. I knew what I was doing when I broke them.” She wouldn’t shy from the consequences. “I’m sorry my behavior disappoints you and reflects badly on your training. I’ll accept whatever punishment you think is appropriate.”

Henry leaned in until his lips touched her ear. “You have not disappointed me, my dear. Quite the opposite. You protected your partner to the best of your ability and sought me out as quickly as possible. I’m very proud of you, Alice.”

“She chooses to accept her punishment?” The jackass pandered to the crowd in a loud voice. “Does she choose to carry your balls in her purse, too?”

Seeking support. He might find it. He was a member, obviously a frequent guest, and she was a newcomer, a possible embarrassment to Henry in the eyes of the others here.

“You give your playthings too much freedom, Henry.”

Henry nuzzled her ear, seemingly unaffected by the man’s outburst. He threaded one hand through her hair, cupping the back of her skull and tipping her head toward him and down. Jay, pressed to Henry’s side, received the same affection with the other hand.

A firm kiss landed on her forehead. Henry might be playing to the crowd, too. Staring the jackass down. Demonstrating control of not one but two committed submissives at his side.

“I give my
partners
precisely as much freedom as they require to enjoy our games.” Certainty rang in Henry’s voice. He knew without a doubt he pleased them both. His confidence in himself and his judgment gave her confidence in return, bolstered her trust in him. God, she loved him.

I’m in love with Henry.

Not an imitation. Not a lesson, not a game, not a chemical reaction. Love. The real thing. Holy shit. That wasn’t supposed to happen. Distracted, she almost missed his next dig at the stranger.

“Perhaps your partners require less, or perhaps you’re unable to read their needs. Is that why you’re alone tonight?” Henry dropped his hand to her back and pulled her closer. Preemptive comfort, or possibly a ploy to make her appear vulnerable. He had knowledge she didn’t of what the people here would expect. Of her…punishment.

A snicker sounded to her left, and a woman mumbled. “…most nights, he means.”

“Not everyone needs to drape himself in pets in an attempt to look like a real man, Henry. Some of us prefer variety.”

“Mmm. Or can’t play well enough with others to keep them coming back, I suppose.” Henry delivered the words with casual disregard, as if he hadn’t addressed the jackass. “I wouldn’t have expected to find you on this floor. The amusements here are too tame for your appetites, aren’t they, Cal?”

Cal. Jackass suited him better. She resettled her face sideways against Henry’s shoulder for a better view of the room.

“We can’t all be as soft as you, Henry.” Jackass Cal stayed well out of Henry’s reach. A jackal, snapping and retreating, with a chair between them.

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