Finding Their Balance (9 page)

A couple of the guys had abandoned the pretense of conversation in favor of watching her. She added her stare to Henry’s.

The tall, wide-eyed blond bumped a desk in his retreat. The stocky crewcut bowed his head and gazed up at her, his grin slow and spreading.

Holy shit. “They think I’m—”

Henry hauled her along the desk. As he boxed her in and dipped her backward, she caught herself on his chest. The smooth underside of his jaw where he’d shaved this morning invited her tongue.

Sighing, she tipped her head. Behind her, the submissive had traded his smile for a pouty sulk. She bit back a laugh. “Guess they don’t see me in charge anymore.”

“
They
don’t need to.” Alpha posturing satisfied, Henry resettled her upright. “Jay delights in your control.”

“But leather and heels? A whip?” Not in a million years.

“Jay likes pain for the sake of pain no more than you do.” Henry kissed her temple. “But he’d enjoy playing your pet for a day.” Green eyes flashed.

Shivering, she fingered his shirt. A thinking Henry was a creative one, and a creative Henry showed his love in panty-drenching performances.

“A consideration for a later date.” Glancing away, he smiled. “We have other obligations.”

On approach, Jay waggled his eyebrows. “In a compromising position with the teacher, Alice? Afraid you’re getting an A-minus, wanna boost that grade?”

“Says the student who begged for a shot at extra credit.”

“You can earn yours now.” Reaching under Henry’s arm, he tugged her wrist. “Collect a student for me. Your fan stalker’s hanging out in the hall.”

“Her what?” Henry took a half-step toward the door.

“Tease.” Hopping off the desk, she smacked the back of her hand against Jay’s chest. “I think he means the church mouse from tea.”

“Hey, she took my seat and made big eyes at you.” Hands spread wide, Jay poured on the arched-brow, pouty-lipped puppy stare. “Total stalker move. I can’t be letting other subs think you’re not taken.”

Men. First Henry, now Jay.

“You’re adorably possessive.” Kissing Jay’s cheek, she checked in with Henry. “Mind if I—” She nodded at the door.

“Please.”

She popped outside. Fifteen feet down the hall, Leah took deep breaths and studied the floor. Or her shoes, pale yellow sandals matching her sundress. Operation good cheer, act one: The greeting. “Hi, Leah.”

Leah jumped.

“It’s nice to see you again.” Pretending she hadn’t witnessed the reaction, she covered the ground between them and stuck out her hand. “I didn’t know you were coming.”

“Hi, Alice.” Leah fiddled with the closed top button of her thin cardigan. The shade about matched her blush. “I didn’t know, either.”

“You decided at the last minute?” Handshake maneuver sputtering out, she went for the girl version, linking elbows. Smooth as a machine-tumbled stone. “I bet you know all this stuff already. You have a master, right?”

“Master dropped me off downstairs. He said this class would be good for me.” Leah rubbed one foot against the back of her other leg. “Master says I have to develop my confidence. Do you think he’d be disappointed in me for not going right in?”

“I think we can walk in together, and class will be fantastic.” Estimating what Leah’s dominant would make of her behavior would be looking into a data black hole. “Do you always call him ‘Master’?”

“As much as I can.” Strolling at her side, Leah kept her head down, but the tightness in her body unwound. “Always at his home and inside this club. I have to get special permission anywhere else.”

“Sounds like a deep commitment.” Asking whether her devotion to the man or the lifestyle had come first would be too personal. Leah forming complete sentences counted as a victory. “Have you been together long?”

“Since last semester. Master’s a professor. Not my professor.” Tightening her grip on Alice’s arm, Leah shot her a hasty glance. “He’s not like that.”

“A man with ethical standards.” Her pair stood chatting beside the blackboard. “I know a few. Good guys to hang on to.” She steered Leah to the front. At least Jay would be a familiar face for her to start socializing. “Sweetheart, look who I found.”

“Miss Leah. I remembered you being taller.” Delivering an over-the-top bow, Jay produced his gentlest charm smile. “I suppose that’ll happen when I spend all my time on the floor. I like to curl up there when I’m nervous, though.”

Blush in full flame, Leah offered a quiet, “me, too.”

Getting better. An encouraging nudge ought to help. “Leah, I’d like to introduce you to my master, Henry. He’s teaching the class.”

Head bowed, Leah stood silent.

“Good morning, Leah.” Henry rolled out his smooth baritone. “Did your master select your outfit for you?”

Studying the floor, Leah nodded.

“He chose well. He must care for you very much. Are you his pampered pet, submissive Leah?” He added stern emphasis on her title.

“He calls me kitten, sir,” Leah whispered. “He brushes my hair. I like that.”

“As you should. A well-behaved pet is her master’s joy.” Formal and polite, Henry kept his distance. “Please extend my regards to yours.”

Leah glanced up, her smile brief but sweet. “Thank you, sir, I will.”

Behind Leah’s back, Alice pointed two fingers toward the front row.

Henry issued a subtle nod. “Alice, perhaps you’d care to sit with your friend? Up front, please, where I may keep an eye on you.”

“Thank you, sir.” Infusing the teasing title with warmth, she kissed his cheek. Love lived in moments when their intellectual gears turned in synchronized motion. Made the tune-ups worth the work.

While she coaxed Leah into shedding some shyness, Jay ushered in a trio of women and a handful of stragglers.

Checking his watch, Henry called to Jay. “That’s time. The door, please.”

They’d drawn a crowd of eleven men and six women. Not bad for a first class with a limited publicity window. Taking the seat behind her, Jay dragged his desk closer.

Henry tugged his shirt cuffs into neat alignment. “Those of you concerned about the potential for sexual acts today may relax. I expect this class will prove to be the most people and the least action this room has hosted in its long history.”

Laughter emerged from a dozen students.

“Those of you hopeful about the potential for sexual acts today”—Henry delivered a stern frown at Crewcut Boy who’d eyed her up—“I’m sorry to say you’ll be disappointed.”

Sitting sideways in her front-row corner seat, she oscillated between his casual command and the attendees’ intense concentration. Talk of the club’s formal reporting policy for harassment and line-crossing caused dropped gazes and strained faces.

“No one desires to have their consensual kinks become fodder for the court system. That’s understandable.” Ignoring the furtive nods, Henry removed his suit coat, folded it neatly, and laid it across the desk. “All the more reason we must take special care to police ourselves.”

“Report somebody, right.” The tall blond who’d retreated under her scrutiny hunched over his crossed arms. “Like the response won’t be, ‘You’re a sub, you were asking for it.’”

Worming his hands around her chair back, Jay found sanctuary beneath her arm. She twined their thumbs together.

“You all met Emma when you arrived?” Henry waited for a nod, mumble, or respectful
yes, sir
from the entire class. “Trust her discretion. If you wish to privately alert the club to a troublesome member, ask for her downstairs. If not for yourself, then for the safety of future players.” Sighing, he settled against the front of the desk. “But after the fact isn’t ideal, is it? The hurt has been dealt. The pain gnaws with little rat teeth, a dull ache and a sharp pinch you cannot shake. Shame. Self-doubt.”

Five bewildered faces floated in a sea of seventeen. The rest followed the current with the tight shoulders, thin lips, and knowing eyes Jay shared.

“If you find yourself beyond your limits and wish to stop mid-scene, the club’s current policy requires the recognition of universal safewords—green for go, yellow for caution, red for stop.” Henry enunciated each with crisp care. “A shout of ‘red’ will draw the attention of monitors or other players to assist.”

If she’d understood safewords worked outside scenes and been able to get the word out, her first visit would’ve gone a hell of a lot differently.

“Our hoped-for outcome is to avoid that situation.” Somber and intent, Henry projected fear-easing confidence with his wide stance and steady voice. “Though the goal isn’t always possible, knowledge and skills bring it closer.”

Standing in front of Cal, her throat tight and her heart racing, she’d thought only of protecting Jay. Her cry for help borrowed more from a dominant challenge than a submissive surrender.

Squeezing her hand, Jay puppy-tilted his head.

She squeezed back, her headshake a subtle
it’s nothing
. Not now, anyway. She’d talk about their encounter later, if any attendees raised a related question and Henry called on her to elaborate.

“Just as we educate our dominant members to respect limits, we encourage our submissive members to set limits.”

The wave of reactions spanned tart nods and slouched shoulders, eager smiles and skeptical stares. In his slow scan, Henry no doubt assessed and catalogued each.

“As saying ‘no’ can be difficult, we will practice, today, the art of bargaining—saying no and saying no without saying no.” He clapped once. “Lecture over.”

Reassigning seats, he set off a flurry of movement. Like snowflakes, the class drifted into position.

“Rows one and four, you’ll stay in these places. You’re dominants in this exercise. You command the space.”

She held back a laugh at the straightening backs and stern expressions of trying-on-dominance rippling down the outer rim.

“Two and three, you’ll rotate clockwise.” Finger twirling, Henry demonstrated the speed-dating style exercise. “With each topic, you’ll start from scratch, negotiating with a new dominant. Submissives, your answer is always
no
. I want to see a robust defense.”

Wide eyes and deep breaths spread like a contagion. By the end of class, they ought to see more confident determination. Hoped to, at least.

“Dominants, first round: Convince your potential partner he or she is exceptionally special to you despite your ten-minute acquaintance and that you know a private, intimate place the two of you ought to go.” Slipping into the last open seat, Henry evened out the pairings. “Begin.”

Alice mimicked a guy-lean and touched the desk across from her. “I’m feeling this great long-term energy between us, but I want you comfortable enough to be honest. The crowd’s got you rattled. All these people judging you. How about I take you somewhere private and we talk about making your fantasies real. Would you like that?”

Leah blushed. “You sound like a nice dominant.”

This could take a while.

Henry might hate a mid-afternoon surprise. He might strip her, tie her to the bed, and leave her until he deemed the hour a fitting time for play.

As Alice walked the four blocks between the subway platform and home, the eighty-three percent of her not nervous about his reaction to her new implant eagerly anticipated his arousal. In her favorite scenario, she barely got the words out before he yanked her pants down and fucked her against the door.

He wouldn’t. Part of her wanted him to want to, begged him to lose control the way she did when he touched her. That split fell closer to sixty-forty. She depended on him to stay in control of her safety so she didn’t have to.

Maybe he’d bend her over the table for sentimental reasons.

She unlocked the apartment door, and—nothing. Sex god Henry might be, but he wasn’t omniscient. Laughing at herself, she dropped her things on the side table. As she toed off her shoes, their soft thud formed the sole sound in empty rooms.

Even the master bedroom revealed no master. Either he’d gone out, maybe to meet a client or his agent, or he was painting behind the lone closed door. She’d never interrupted his work. Her desire didn’t qualify as an emergency.

Damn. She’d allowed spontaneous, urgent need to overrule her. But in the excited rush of accomplishment, only sharing with him would do. Gnawing indecision tasted of bile.

Henry exited his studio, shutting the door behind himself. “Alice?”

As he had when he’d made their breakfast, he stood in bare feet. White cotton pants, dabbed with colorful finger-smears, flowed loose around his legs. Drawstrings dangled and teased.

“I thought I heard someone come home.”

A seeming concession to formality, his button-down, too, wrapped him in a thin layer of relaxation. Untucked and short-sleeved, the pale blue-green sea beckoned her to break the surface.

“It’s not quite two.”

Her heart dropped a beat between her legs. Fuck, she loved him casual as much as she loved him formal.

“Is something the matter? Are you ill?” Frowning, he beckoned her over. “You’re distinctly pale.”

Not all of her. Rushing blood made her plenty rosy elsewhere.

“No, no.” She fumbled for command of her tongue. God forbid she give him the wrong impression. “I’m not sick.” She stopped beyond arm’s reach, iffy on controlling herself any closer. Bands of steel compressed her chest. “But I did see a doctor. And then I came home to you.”

Green eyes widened before they narrowed. Henry tipped his head. Nostrils flaring, he stepped toward her.

She battled the urge to bolt. Not to escape, no. To make him stake his claim.

“You say nothing’s wrong, yet you’ve come seeking me in the middle of the day.” Circling left, he stalked her, his voice deep, his words slow. “I can’t help but think something is right, then.” Idly dragging her shirt up her back, he sent tingles across her skin. “Do you wish to share with me? Something you want to be mine, sweet girl?”

Mouth dry, she nodded.

“Tell me about your doctor’s appointment.” His steps brought him around in front, maintaining the distance she’d originally imposed.

He was going commando. His thin pants draped over his hardening cock, a sculpture waiting to be unveiled. She’d find the shape with her tongue, and he’d fit—