But I want to be held more.
At the same time she felt she needed to be away too. He was into a kind of BDSM she wasn’t. And he wasn’t that into her, anyway. He’d kept her panties on. He’d turned down her offer to get more intimate in one of the other rooms, an offer she already regretted making. His kiss had been almost chaste. “Okay. Whenever you need to.”
“I’m not going to go until I know you’re okay.”
She tried a brave smile. “I’ll be fine. I do this all the time. Don’t think I wanted a relationship or anything…just a fun time. I’m very poly, and I like it that way.”
“Right.”
“Right.” She took a breath. She owed him more than that, even if she couldn’t be what he was looking for. And a part of her wanted more. “You’re really good, though. If you ever want, you know, just play. Nothing too deep. I had a great time.”
He smiled. “Me too. I wasn’t sure I could do this.”
“Huh?”
Do what?
He’d probably done more than spank and finger his wife, so what did he mean?
“I’ve said too much already. I’ll, um, see you around sometime? If you’re sure you’re good? Aftercare is important.”
“I’m fine. The best aftercare for me is another scene.” She didn’t know whether she said it to make him jealous, so he’d stay, or to emphasize that he wasn’t that important to her. Her feelings were a jumble. He’d been incredibly good, gentle and firm in equal measure, and his handprints still burned on her bottom. She didn’t think she’d look for another scene. She had a few girlfriends in the club, however, and she might share a platonic snuggle with one of them. She needed to decompress somehow.
He frowned. “I have to respect that,” he said stiffly. “Okay.” He loosened his grip on her.
She slipped out of his arms and stood. She smoothed her skirt down. “See you again sometime, Sir.”
“Yes.” His face was unreadable.
She took two steps backward and then turned, not entirely sure why she didn’t want to face him. There were more than a dozen men and women in the club she’d played with and could say a bright, cheery hello to without a blush, but she couldn’t meet Jeremy’s eyes anymore. She walked away, feeling as if she’d turn to a pillar of salt if she looked back.
I wanted him more than he wanted me. But I can’t be anyone’s slave, in any case.
She knew for a certainty, though, that she wouldn’t play with anyone else now. In spite of what she’d said, she didn’t play that game, trying to make guys jealous. That was for drama queens, and the club had a few. She tried to keep things light and be the happy-go-lucky slut that everyone wanted her to be.
I was being foolish to think I could have anything different.
She spotted Callie across the way. Callie wasn’t getting any male attention for a change. Callie had cried on her shoulder a few times; Amanda thought the girl still had the hots for Vincent, and Vincent was very taken. Callie definitely owed her a cuddle.
Maybe Jeremy will think that’s hot.
As soon as she thought it, she was annoyed at herself.
I don’t play those games either. I can’t believe he’s gotten to me like this when he doesn’t even want to kiss me.
“Hey, Callie,” she said.
Callie smiled. “Hi, Amanda. Hot scene you did over there.”
Amanda grinned and tried not to blush. “Thanks. Mind helping me decompress?”
“Um, sure,” Callie said. “That hot dom you were playing with just walked out of the club. Everything okay?”
“Oh, yeah. I’ll be fine.”
Aren’t I always?
There were couches in the gallery and comfy chairs with signs over them that said, Aftercare has priority. As far as she was concerned, this qualified, even if Callie hadn’t been playing. They could still hold each other. If a dom and sub came over, they’d move. And if some dom came over and thought two girls looked cute together, and wanted to play with them both—no, on second thought, she’d let Callie have the fun.
Chapter Three
Jeremy walked out into the cool air of early spring. The leaves still weren’t on the trees yet, but there were a few daffodils blooming on a strip near the edge of the road. He walked out to his car, missing Cheri.
You should have fucked her.
He didn’t believe Cheri was talking to him, even if his thoughts came in her voice. She’d always supported him in whatever he wanted to do. It wasn’t her holding him back. It was himself and his own need for fidelity. Having sex with another woman felt wrong, even though his mind told him it was right. There was no reason he shouldn’t have some sexy fun with a willing woman he was definitely attracted to. No reason to deny himself the pleasure of coming with a fellow human being rather than his lonely fist. No reason not to cuddle with a soft woman with delicious, yielding curves. Cheri would have wanted him to move on. But he found it difficult while thinking of her watching from above.
His cock had other ideas. It was hard and ready to go. Amanda had roused him more than any woman he’d met since Cheri. She’d enjoyed her spanking and had responded to his touch.
We could play together nicely.
Already she had broken through a barrier. He knew he could do another scene like that. He could touch a woman intimately. Kiss her. God, Amanda’s lips had felt good, making him want more. She wanted more too. But he’d held back.
Probably because I’m an idiot.
He opened the door of his sedan and slid into the driver’s seat. For a moment he was tempted to go in and find Amanda. But her words about another scene bothered him. He didn’t want to see her play with someone else right now. He had no right to feel possessive. He had no claim on her, and she had none on him. But one thing Cheri had taught him was that emotions that didn’t make a lot of sense still had to be dealt with.
He started the engine and then pointed the car toward home. He lived in Baltimore, over an hour’s drive away. It seemed like enough distance.
When he got home, he showered. He was still on edge. Turned on. He was tempted to deal with that in the shower, to soap himself up and come right then and there, but he decided not to. He was feeling more alive than he’d felt in years, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to take the edge off yet. He had hardly looked at a woman since Cheri. And now he’d done more than look. A part of him that had lain dormant was stirring. He wasn’t sure whether that was a good thing or not, but he knew it wouldn’t be put to sleep by jacking off in the shower.
Wearing only a pair of loose flannel pants, he picked up his clothes from the bathroom floor to take them to the hamper. A card fluttered out. Amanda’s. He picked it up and looked at it. I
should get one of these made.
It was an obvious way to try to make further contact with potential partners. The world had changed from when he’d been active in the scene. It wasn’t just computers and such that had changed it, either. People were more accepting of alternative sexuality in general, although he didn’t harbor any illusions that tying a girl up and flogging her would ever become generally socially acceptable. He’d been in a dozen clubs and had never seen anything like the fire play that had been going on at Excess or Amanda’s “poi” floggers.
I need an education. And I wouldn’t mind trying out a pair of those floggers, either.
He fired up his computer and set the card next to it. Amanda might have some good suggestions for who was making the best floggers these days. He hadn’t bought one since he and Cheri started, back when they did more public play. They’d found what Cheri responded to, and he’d never seen any need to get anything new. In the end, BDSM was about the people, not the equipment. The toys were a means to an end. But still, he was curious to give some new things a try.
He sat down and started searching.
I should have finished out the evening at the club.
He knew why he hadn’t. It hadn’t been that what was going on between him and Amanda had been wrong. It was that it was too right. He’d wanted to kiss her. To make love to her.
He barely knew her.
He shrugged after half a dozen Web sites and opened his e-mail. He typed a short note to Amanda, asking her the best place to find well-crafted floggers of the new-fangled variety. He reread his e-mail, trying to decide if it struck the right tone. Then he typed,
Would you be interested in getting together for another scene?
underneath his question. Of course she’d say no. If he’d wanted a repeat, he should have stuck around. But at least he could make her feel desired. He suspected she’d answer his question regardless. From what he’d seen at the demo, she was a person who simply enjoyed helping others.
Cheri was like that, although it had gotten narrowed over time, until the only person she cared about helping was him. He didn’t want that to happen again. Some of what had attracted him to Cheri in the first place had gotten left behind. He felt guilty for thinking that because Cheri had been wonderful and utterly devoted. He’d loved giving her what she needed, and she’d given him plenty in return. But he couldn’t—and didn’t want to—replicate that.
Maybe it’s better this time to play the field. To seek for bottoms, not slaves.
Polyamory, rather than monogamy, although that meant so much more than playing with multiple people. It meant letting himself have emotions for them. Amanda had stirred something in him he hadn’t expected. He wasn’t falling in love. But he cared.
Maybe I’m not capable of playing with someone without an emotional connection. Without love for the other person.
If so, that wasn’t a bad thing, or at least not a weakness of character.
If it means I get hurt, so be it. I’ll try to stop anyone else from getting hurt in the process.
In any case, in the unlikely event Amanda says yes, I wouldn’t mind playing with her again. This time, if she offers more, I’ll take it.
He hit Send.
Then he walked over to his piano, seated himself on the wooden bench in front of it, and lost himself in Chopin for a while.
* * * *
Amanda woke up when Snowball, her cat, swished his tail against her face. Amanda sneezed and picked up the big white ball of fur and set him back on the floor where he belonged, intending to roll over and get more sleep. It was way too early to be up after a late night at the club. But once she’d gone to all that effort, she was wide-awake, and two minutes later, she got out of bed.
“You got what you wanted, didn’t you?” she asked Snowball as she fetched a can of food from the drawer above the kitchen counter. Snowball meowed innocently in response.
She knew she probably shouldn’t have a cat. She wasn’t
very
allergic to Snowball, but there was no doubt she felt stuffier at home than she did when she was out. But the cat was the one constant in her life. He was alternately toppish and indifferent, like most cats, but he was always there for her, and when she was sick or depressed, he curled his warm body against hers and stayed until she felt better. He might be a selfish little beast, but he was hers, and he wasn’t going anywhere.
She scooped the cat food into Snowball’s bowl and set it on the floor. Snowball feigned indifference, walked past the food as if on a mission, then slowly circled his way back and buried his nose in it.
“You’re not fooling anyone, you know.” Getting no response, Amanda walked over to her desk and opened her laptop. Callie had been great to snuggle with, but she had a feeling there would be a letter waiting for her, telling her more about Callie’s man troubles. As soon as the computer connected to the wireless, she started working her way through her e-mails, hoping to find a job offer.
Hi, u r hot. Saw u at the club. Let me know if u want to flog me.
Delete.
That was the problem with handing out cards indiscriminately, but if people had questions about the demo, she wanted to answer them. It would be nicer to be called hot by someone who was willing to spell out words. The fact was, she didn’t feel very hot lately. She’d had to bleach out the blue-black hair, as well as the little pink stripe she had down the middle, in an attempt to make herself look better for job interviews. Now her hair was the mousiest shade of brown ever, and she was probably lucky the bleached-out black hadn’t turned a brassy red. She knew she wasn’t walking as proud or carrying herself as well.
She opened the next one and read Jeremy’s mail.
Another scene? The one they did had felt awesome, and she wanted to repeat that experience. But afterward he’d seemed so distant, and if it hadn’t been for Callie, she’d have suffered a major drop. Giving herself over to someone was intense, and with Jeremy it had been more so than usual. She’d wanted to be held more. She’d wanted to be kissed more. The feeling that something was missing had lingered when she’d come home.
No thank you
, she typed and then fetched a couple of addresses from her bookmark folder to answer his question about where to get floggers. The idea of him with a flogger in each hand, swinging them against her back and her bottom, made her shift in her chair. Maybe he’d wrap it around to tease her breasts or her pussy with the tips. She squirmed some more. When he’d spanked her, he’d been so skilled, so, well, masterful. He knew how to stroke her, keep her on edge, and make her come. She erased the message and replaced it with
I’ll only tell you if you use them on me.
Then she deleted that one too.
What I need is some good exercise, to give me an endorphin rush I can come down from without all the emotions of another scene with Jeremy. Then when I’m done, I’ll answer him. Time to go biking.
She reached out to close the laptop down without answering, and then stopped.
What the hell. What do I have to lose?
She typed,
Do you bike? I’m going biking in Legion Park, if you want to join me. I’ll be there in forty-five minutes.
Maybe all he wanted was a kinky scene, but she wanted closure sooner than that. She had no idea where he lived, but she could toss her bike on her car and be at Legion Park in fifteen minutes. It was a nice ride, not too hilly, the perfect thing to stretch her legs.
And work the kinks out in more ways than one.
She got up and changed into her biking shorts and top, made of stretching material that breathed well and wicked the sweat away from her body.