Hanging On 2: Surreal Neal [Awakenings 6] (Siren Publishing Menage and More) (17 page)

I breathed through my nose and tried to control my reactions. As I fondled his balls, I tried to think about things that weren’t sexy, but I failed. The only things my mind would hold were Mistress and Chef. There was no room for anything else.

My orgasm took me seconds before Drew’s semen spurted in my mouth. I don’t know how much time passed, but before I knew it, Mistress was stroking my face and the tropical breeze caressed my cheeks.

I peered at her, eyes wide with contrition. “I’m sorry, Mistress.”

She shook her head. “I didn’t prohibit you from coming.”

“You didn’t give permission.”

“No, I didn’t. We’ll have to work out a signal for when you’re otherwise occupied and need to ask.” She squatted so that she was nearly on my level. “If your hands are free, cross your fingers, and I will either grant or deny permission.”

“Yes, Mistress.” The wetness on my shorts was growing cold and stiff. I didn’t for a second think she would let me change.

I looked for Drew, and I found him leaning against the railing with his eyes closed. His shorts were back in place, and he had a look of supreme satisfaction on his face that gave me no small amount of pride.

Mistress grinned. “You give quite a blow job.”

I grinned back. “I’m not bad at eating pussy either.”

She favored me with a catlike smile of satisfaction. “No, not bad. Drew likes it, you know. He loves to watch you eat my pussy. If I let him, he’d make you do that for hours.”

My response was instantaneous. “Gladly, Mistress.”

Drew coughed. “God. I’m hard again.”

Mistress patted his package. “No time. I’m hungry, and we’ve been invited to a special event.”

Dinner was unremarkable, which was a little disheartening. The food was good enough, but it wasn’t the delectable decadence I expected from resort eating. Drew and I exchanged several glances over the course of the meal.

Mistress noticed. She met Drew’s gaze at one point and said, “I know. I know. We’d better start recruiting now. Not many people with that kind of skill want to live on an island resort full-time.”

I shrugged. “Chefs will go anywhere for the right price. We’re whores that way.”

Mistress laughed, her entire face softened and lit with joy. Awareness zinged through me, a foreign and unsettling feeling. I could become addicted to making her smile.

“I thought you guys were just whores for good food.” She closed her hand over mine. “You should see Drew drool over my mother’s cooking. I swear, if he thought he had a chance, he would dump me for her in a heartbeat. He likes her for her recipes.”

Drew narrowed his eyes. “I don’t have to, my darling dear. Your mother adores me. As long as I’m making you happy, she’ll sing like a canary anytime I want.”

I waited with breathless anticipation for her to hold my hand, but she gave me a squeeze and let go. Tingles sparked through my skin, and I struggled to keep the conversation light. “I don’t suppose your mother would want to work here.”

She shook her head. “My mom is anxiously awaiting her first grandchild. Nothing will tear her away from home.”

I remembered Sophia mentioning her brother before. “When is his wife due?”

“Five months. I think my mom has already bought a room full of stuff for the shower. She keeps taking meals over there because she thinks Evan and Danny don’t feed Lainie enough.”

Drew gave Sophia’s stomach a pointed look. “I’d knock you up for that kind of treatment.”

Mistress blushed and picked at the remnants of her salmon. “Five years. Maybe three.”

Her brother’s name was Dan, and I had met him once when he’d visited the shop to take Sophia to lunch. “Who is Evan?” I also wanted to change the topic. I would rather the two of them discuss having children when I wasn’t around.

She didn’t miss a beat. “Danny and Lainie’s husband. They’re a triad.”

Suddenly I found my red potatoes extra interesting, though the rosemary and thyme drizzled over them were too sparse to lend much flavor. This new information threw the rumors about Drew and Sophie into sharper relief, and I understood what they were doing. They were looking to add a third person to their relationship, only they hadn’t found the right one yet.

Sophie’s reluctance to have children likely stemmed from the fact that she wanted to wait until she felt her relationship was complete.

She abruptly disappeared from my side. When I looked up, I found her nestled on Drew’s lap, her arms draped loosely around his neck, and they were staring one another in the eyes. If I hadn’t been so close, I wouldn’t have heard Drew’s heartfelt declaration.

“You and I are forever, Sophie. I’d never leave you, not even for a better cook. I love you with every cell in my body.”

Through her blush, she beamed, and I basked in the glow on the edges of their devotion. Whether my theory was right remained open for further thought, but one part of it bit the dust. Sophia did not feel she was missing anything in her relationship with Drew. I’d never seen her look so radiant, so blindingly happy. Love blazed from him too, and for a moment I beat back the sharp point of jealousy.

I didn’t want what they had. It was rare and impossible to find—for me, anyway.

Though I wasn’t hungry, I finished my potatoes. It was likely that I’d need the energy later. Mistress hadn’t been kidding when she’d described Chef as insatiable.

After dinner, we made our way to an amphitheater nestled in a hillside and hidden from view. We walked past it twice before finding the right path to take us there. It was empty. Most of the resort was bereft of people.

“Signs,” Drew growled. “And ‘you are here’ maps. This place isn’t very large, but guests should always know where they are and how to get where they’re going.”

“I’ll put that on the list,” Sophia said. She grabbed my hand and tugged me in the right direction.

I hadn’t been about to get lost, but I was curiously happy at the contact, especially because she didn’t let me go. She walked along the path, flanked by Drew and me, holding our hands in hers.

Drew smiled at me over her head, and I felt heat traveling up my neck. A blush was imminent. I hoped it wasn’t too visible in the light of the setting sun.

She selected a bench near the front. In true amphitheater style, the benches were made from stone. They had been worn smooth from years of sliding butts, but they were still hard and uncomfortable.

In a surprise move, Mistress sat me next to Drew, and she took her place on my other side. Spotlights came up on the stage.

“Lights on the steps down to the seats,” Drew said. “And replace the stone with wood. That has to be better.”

I snickered. “It won’t be worse. I can see where sitting here for too long might aggravate someone with back pain or joint problems.” Master Geordie had suffered from sometimes-debilitating back pain. He’d said it was from a messed-up disk, and he’d enjoyed many massages delivered by my hands. After he’d abandoned me, I had tried to turn that skill into an income, but things hadn’t worked out. It seemed I was too attractive, and people didn’t want to pay for the use of my hands.

Mistress looked around. “Maybe we offer outdoor cushions, something washable that can be sprayed down with disinfectant.”

The crowd here filled up the first three rows. Outliers, couples who wanted a little more privacy, could be found sitting back from the rest, but there weren’t many of them. Nobody occupied the upper tiers, where bulky shapes in the darkness revealed that things were being stored in the unused space. They were covered with tarps, but I didn’t think Sophia would approve of using an open area like this as storage. It should be packed with people.

“You could employ acting troupes to entertain guests by acting out erotic novel plots. They wouldn’t have to actually have sex. With the right staging, it would be easy to fake.” I didn’t know where that idea came from. Like the name “Sanctum” that Sophia had loved, it just came rolling out of me. Being around the both of them seemed to inspire me and make me think that anything was possible. Sitting here with them, I could see their dreams coming true, and I could picture being the head chef in my own restaurant.

Mistress snuggled her head against my shoulder, and I looped my arm around her back to make her more comfortable. “I like it. We could have the exit path designed to offer places where people can blow off some steam if they can’t wait until they get back to their rooms. Maybe a garden with flowers and spanking benches.”

It was a beautiful description. I liked how she saw the world. I envied her ability to look on the bright side of things. She was unspoiled by circumstance. Her vision was fresh, her perspective artless and pure. She’d lived a charmed life, and it reflected in her rosy view. With her, I could believe my dreams were going to come true.

Sophia reached over and pounded Drew’s thigh with a closed fist. I jumped at her controlled violence. The impression I had of her so far didn’t encompass anything sudden or unkind, and I hadn’t thought her capable of delivering a blow without warning.

Drew flinched. “Jesus, Sophie. What was that for?”

“A better cook? I’m pretty damn good, mister. Who fixed the sauce for your Hawaiian chicken dish?”

“You are pretty good,” he acknowledged. His fingers twitched, and I wondered whether he was resisting the urge to rub his thigh. “But you get your recipes from your mother.”

She lifted her head from my shoulder and snorted. “You get your recipes from my mother and from yours. What’s the difference?”

When I looked down, I caught her grin. She winked at me. “He likes to pretend that I don’t hit hard.”

This was where I smiled. “You hit perfectly, Mistress. I am looking forward to experiencing more of that with you.”

Drew gave in and massaged his thigh. “There’s no winning this. I gracefully admit defeat.”

I laughed, both because I thought they were funny and because I was relieved to know that my original assessment of Sophia had been correct. She wasn’t the kind of Mistress who doled out punishment without reason and informed consent.

With a wry twist to his lips, Drew regarded me. “Keep it up and you’ll spend the evening kneeling between my legs making me feel better.”

That didn’t sound like a bad way to pass the time. Though I stopped laughing, the smile on my face grew. Sophia put her head back on my shoulder, and the woman who had met us at the dock came onstage.

Mistress Heather looked like the sort of woman who would put my balls in a vise and leave them there all day just because she could. Once that would have appealed to me, but now I didn’t trust anybody enough to let them take those kinds of liberties.

Except maybe Mistress and Chef. They were growing on me. Every minute with them took me a step closer to thinking I could take chances I knew I would come to regret.

The lights went down everywhere, and five spotlights centered on Mistress Heather. She stood like a goddess, her regal bearing hushing the sparse crowd. She had no need to speak—her presence demanded attention.

She spread her arms wide, and four of the spots zoomed to other locations. The illumination directed our attention to four slaves, two men and two women. Each had been stripped, spread open, and bound. Several of them quivered under the lights, and I recoiled. Bondage like that had never appealed to me. I did not like being put on display at private parties. I couldn’t imagine what it would be like to do this in front of a crowd.

To be fair, there wasn’t much of a crowd. I hope Mistress and Chef got a deal on this place, because it didn’t look like it was currently making a profit. I had every confidence they could turn it around.

“These slaves are for sale. Their next three hours belong to the highest bidder.”

Scantily clad slaves made their way down the aisles, distributing programs to the various dominants in the audience. Mistress opened it up, and I saw that it contained short biographies of each slave, as well as their limits and preferences. It seemed each slave came with a set of toys and tools, and only those implements could be used on them.

I knew a little about selling oneself to strangers, and I wholeheartedly agreed with the way they’d set up the rules.

“Play rooms are available as part of the package. No slave may be taken to a private room.”

Mistress frowned. She looked from the pamphlet to the various slaves. At last, her gaze landed on Drew. “I’m not sure about this.”

Drew shrugged. “It’s a fantasy. The play rooms are monitored, so I don’t see the harm.”

Her frown didn’t fade.

“Mistress, each slave has stated what they want. The Doms who purchase them agree to abide by those limitations and preset scenarios. My concern is the money. Where is it going?”

Sophia examined the small print, but her expression didn’t change. “Good question.”

“The auction will begin in fifteen minutes. You may use that time to inspect the offerings.”

As she spoke, several beefcakes appeared on the stage. Each muscle-bound hunk of sexiness wore tight leather pants and no shirt. Their chests gleamed in the reflected light, and I guessed that they had been oiled for the occasion. I didn’t have long to wonder about their purpose. Each took a position next to a bound slave. They were guards. I breathed a little easier to know that those up for auction wouldn’t be mistreated while prospective Masters and Mistresses were “inspecting the offerings.”