TWENTY-SIX
LUCY
The first—and only time—I went to one of Mr. B’s parties, all I did was stand around numbly, gawking at what was happening right in front of me. I don’t want to be that person this time, so when the homeowner himself answers the door, I force myself to relax. To my relief, he’s dressed in black lounge pants, his lack of a shirt showing off his impressive abs. He looks more like he’s ready for bed than for a night of debauchery. I step inside, recognizing a couple from the last party as they take off for the downstairs of the house.
“Ms. Williams, welcome back,” B murmurs as soon as the door is closed behind us and securely latched. He strides over to where Jace and I wait in the middle of the entryway. I come dangerously close to losing my balance when he drops a kiss so close to my mouth I can nearly taste his toothpaste. As soon as he pulls away, I feel the warmth from Jace’s body press against the back of mine.
I cast an anxious look over my shoulder, sucking in my lower lip at his strained expression. Returning my hazel gaze to the other man, I clear my throat. “Thank you for inviting me, we’re so excited to see the launch of your Sexy Susan.”
B’s lips quirk and he casts a curious look at Jace. “My Sexy Susan? You’ve given it an official name, Exley?”
“Our office manager, Daisy, calls it that,” Jace interjects, and B nods his head in understanding.
“Like always, I was completely satisfied by the craftsmanship. Seeing it in use will be the highlight of my evening.” He wanders his gaze over me, unashamedly taking in the form-fitting red dress and mile-high, strappy heels Jamie had talked me into donning. “Do you indulge, Ms. Williams? One of my guests, Andrew, is very interested in—”
“She doesn’t,” Jace snaps, and our host’s eyebrows arch. I recognize the name B just said—Andrew’s the man who showed up at EXtreme wanting to order custom manacles. Jace had regarded him icily during their appointment, and his reaction is just as cold tonight. I skim my teeth over the inside of my cheek, staring up at him with wide eyes as he slips from his spot behind me and pulls me close to his side. He lays a possessive hand on the base of my spine. Tingles burst through my skin, through my veins, but he doesn’t seem to notice that I suddenly can’t breathe as he casts a tight smile at his client.
“I’ll be sure to let Andrew know she’s not available.”
“That’s a pity,” B says, cocking his head to one side to flick his dark gaze between Jace and me.
“Right, well Lucy’s indulgences are very singular.” Slate blue eyes momentarily dip to mine. Jace’s gaze is soft and sinful and full of the promise that those singular indulgences will rock my world tonight. “Sadly, we can’t stay long since tomorrow is a work day. Lucy gets very, very tired.”
B presses his lips together and steeples his fingers against them. “Again, that’s a pity,” he says before launching into a conversation with Jace about an idea he came up with the other night. When he uses the term “pussy pump,” I check out of the conversation. I look away to the flower arrangement behind his couch. This time, it’s vivid pink orchids. I admire the flowers for longer than necessary before I eventually bring my focus back to our host.
Thank god their discussion has shifted gears; Jace is in the middle of explaining his plan for a new line of tables just like B’s—only smaller.
“You’ll still be the only man in the world with a piece like yours, though,” Jace promises, assuring our client that he’s won the pissing race where spinning sex tables are concerned. I have to agree. If hadn’t seen B in action the first time I came here, I’d swear the massive table he commissioned was overcompensating.
“I fucking better be the only one with a table like that.” As if he’s just now noticing the intimacy behind Jace’s touch, he smirks. “The two of you?” He doesn’t sound surprised, and Jace responds with a shrug. “No wonder you won’t share with Andrew.”
An angry noise shoves from the back of Jace’s throat and then he responds to B in a low, dangerous voice. “Where Lucy’s concerned, I don’t share. I’ll have to tell Andrew that too.”
I don’t have a chance to turn my face up to his and study his expression because B informs us that he has a few things to attend to before he shows his guests his table. He tells us to help ourselves to whatever we desire—apparently, there’s a bar downstairs that I hadn’t noticed the last time we were here because I was too distracted by all the naked, gyrating bodies.
Just before he excuses himself to the third floor of the house, B pauses on the staircase, looks over his shoulder, and grins broadly. “You’re welcome to use any of the suites in private … if you’d like.”
My mouth falls open as he retreats, and I’m still blinking rapidly when Jace ushers me toward the steps leading downstairs. “That was … strange,” I whisper, following closely behind Jace. “He wanted you to share me with Andrew? I thought he was married.”
At least, that’s what he said when he got the quote for the monogrammed cuffs—he wanted them for his wife, whom he claimed to have married just seven months ago.
Jace pauses a few steps from the bottom and looks up at me. “He called me about you right after I brought you here. I told him you were unavailable. As for his wife—she wouldn’t have given a fuck. They were the couple with Sonora that first night.”
Oh. Oh. I vibrantly recall the mask-wearing couple occupying the Kink Playground during the first party. And the way they’d approached Sonora after Jace showed them how to hook her cuffs on the giant metal X—like predators pouncing on prey. That Andrew had gotten in touch with Jace about me…
I cross my arms over my chest and shudder. “That’s sweet of you to look out for me,” I whisper. Jace reaches up to me, feathering the calloused pad of his thumb over my cheek until my breath becomes nothing but a delicate sigh.
“My motivations were purely selfish at the time,” he admits. “I’ve wanted to be inside you from the moment you stepped into my office—hell, since high school—and I’d be damned if I let someone I knew touch you instead.”
“I like that you’re selfish.”
“Good, love. Because it’s not going to stop—not when it comes to you.”
I’ve got to admit that I'm surprised that the bartender manning the bar is fully dressed, but I'm still a bit skeptical as I ask him for a shot of tequila. “I promise you,” Jace says, pressing his full lips to my ear. “There's no DNA on top of this bar, so you’re safe to take a drink.”
I whip my head to the side to look at him, my mouth falling open. He responds by tucking his finger beneath my chin and snapping it shut. “Careful doing that, Lucy, or I’ll take B up on his offer and carry you off to one of these rooms.”
“I didn't even think that for a second,” I argue, leading our conversation back to his first comment. It seems safer than acknowledging that he’s just propositioned me after what happened not even a half an hour ago in the front seat of his car.
“Right. Well, I can promise you there’s no Molly spiking your drink either.” My eyes narrow into tight slits, so he smirks and grins. “They bring their own and are very stingy with it.”
When the bartender hands me my shot, I toss it back and give him a bold look. “Stop trying to shock me.”
“I'm not trying to shock you at all. I'm just being honest with you.”
I request one more shot, for good measure, and then I follow his lead to an open room where, thank god, nobody is engaged in the act. Plush sofas and cushy armchairs surround the dimly-lit space, and several people are seated around, their heads bent together as they speak.
We choose a loveseat closest to the arched doorway, and when Jace pulls me close to him, I stare at him, my gaze questioning. “What is this place?”
He works his lower lip between his thumb and forefinger, as if he searching for the right way to tell me something awful, before finally saying, “You remember those mixers you went to in college?”
“Sort of.”
“That’s what this is. Some of them plan their evening well in advance, but many like the thrill of a surprise.”
I feel like a prude when I admit to myself that I’ve always put so much planning into the act of making love—or sex. Jace was a first for me. I’d wanted him, to the point where simply being around him had affected my body, but I never thought we would act on it. And now that we have, now that we still are, I don’t want the thrill to stop.
“Which one did you prefer?” I ask softly.
He skims his teeth over the corner of his lower lip, tilting his head to one side. I reach out to brush a dark lock of hair away from his forehead, and he catches my hand in his. I release a shuddering breath when he slides his tongue over the pulse point on my wrist. “Do you really want to know that?” he challenges.
“I want to know everything about you.” He considers my statement for a lengthy pause. Lowering his gaze to my bare leg, he spreads his hand over my skin, kneading his fingertips until my thighs clench. He still has my panties in the pocket of his jeans. When I realize this, desire pools in the pit of my stomach. “Jace?” I whisper.
“The few times I indulged,” he starts, “I went for the thrill of it.”
“Weren't you worried?” When one of his eyebrows arches, I add, “I don't know, random sex just seems so…”
“I'm a fan of condoms, love. As you're very well aware. Although, there was that moment with you… Being inside of you, bare, was incredible. Something I’d like to repeat tonight, if you’re willing.”
I'm seconds away from voicing my thoughts—from telling him how good he felt the night in his foyer where he hadn’t even removed my clothing before we tore each other apart—but then I see a flash of red hair coming our way.
I draw in a breath through clenched teeth, my eyes cutting to Sonora as she parks her ass on the armrest closest to Jace. She tosses her hair over one shoulder and smiles down at us. I notice that she's no longer wearing her sling and that she's also somewhat dressed tonight, wearing a black corset that makes her breasts look like they are seconds from tumbling out. Sonora is beautiful—beautiful and the type of woman I see Jace with when I close my eyes. My stomach hardens at the thought of him being with her.
At the thought of him going back to this—for the thrill of it.
“Enjoying the party, Ms. Williams?” she asks politely. I tell her that I am, and she grants me an amused look. “It’s no fun yet, but I’m expecting it’ll liven up here in a few minutes, right Jace?”
He grants her a slight smile and a nod, and painful flames shoot through my chest.
“I'm glad to see your arm is better,” I say cheerily, changing the subject to something that doesn’t turn me into a jealous mess.
She traces her fingertips over her wrist and lifts her shoulders. Her breasts squish together. I hold my breath, just waiting for them to fall out of her corset, but they stay firmly in place. “It’s not fully healed, but a little pain never hurt anyone.”
“I broke my collarbone once,” I blurt out stupidly. Her lips quiver, and she covers her mouth with rose-painted fingernails. Out of the corner of my eye, I sneak a glance at Jace—to see if he’s looking at her fingers since he’s used her hands for his photos so often in the past—but his gaze is focused on the side of my face. Flushing, I meet Sonora’s big blue eyes. “I fell off a swing … when I was eight.”
Oh god, I need to shut up and fast.
“That kind of pain does hurt, sweetheart—but I’m talking about something different,” she says then lowers her attention to Jace. “Will you be staying tonight, E?”
I hate that there’s another wiggle of jealousy that goes through me when she asks him this, but I'm quickly placated when he shakes his head. “You know I don’t stay anymore, but I have alternate plans. I promise you won’t miss me.” She gives him a longing look, but he fails to notice it as he stands and looks down at me. “I have to run to the bathroom, love, but I'll be back shortly. Don’t worry, you’re in good hands with Sonora.”
Before I have time to protest, he strides away, and I turn to the redhead half expecting her claws to come out. That doesn't happen. She drums her fingertips on her bare thighs and inclines her head to the side. “You can relax,” she says softly. “I'm not the type of woman to attack another just because she has something that I desire.”
“I—” I begin, but the lump in the back of my throat prevents me from speaking.
She holds up her long, delicate fingers and shakes her head. “You don’t have to defend yourself, Lucy. As long as Jace is happy, I don't mind you. At the end of the day, that’s all I want for him. He's my friend, and he deserves that after everything he’s been through. He’s never committed to a woman like this before. I like that he is now.”
When I simply blink at her like an idiot, she laughs softly. “What?”
“You, you're just nice.” I don’t tell her that I don’t think Jace is committed or that my heart constricts at the idea of him telling me he wants more. “I didn't expect that from you.”
“Looks and predilections can be deceiving.” She eyeballs a good-looking man across the room and slides off the armrest. “Take care, Miss Williams.”
She begins to walk away, but my question stops her in her tracks. “Why do you come to these parties, Sonora?” She turns to face me, running her palms over the front of her corset.
“Why? Are you judging me?” she demands.
“No.” I shake my head because it’s the truth. I’ve spent five minutes with this woman, and she’s been kinder to me than most of my prim and proper friends back in San Francisco. I’m grateful for that. Grateful for what she’s said to me tonight. “I’m just curious.”
“I do this because I need this in my life. It might not make sense to you or anyone else, but it's what makes me feel alive.”
“Just because I don't understand it doesn't make it wrong,” I say, surprising myself. A tiny smile forms on her face.
“Thank you.” When Jace returns a few seconds later, I let him know I'm ready for another drink. “I thought you said you couldn’t handle your liquor,” he teases.
“Not usually, but I might just need it by the time B shows off his table and we get out of here.”
By the time Mr. B makes his grand appearance downstairs thirty minutes later, I’m regretting that third shot of tequila. The liquor has gone straight to my head, but luckily, I can still stand upright when we step behind the glass on the other side of the voyeur room. Noticing the naked woman standing a few feet away from us, her gaze wandering over the massive table in the other room, I revise my thoughts about the tequila.
I definitely needed it.
Although several of his guests are in the other rooms, Mr. B’s new table has attracted at least ten other people. Of course, they might all be more interested in using said table rather than watching it in use. As Mr. B praises Jace’s work, I sneak off to the side and pull my phone out of my strapless bra, checking to make sure my mother hasn't messaged me. I have one text, but it's from Jamie.
11:13 PM: The suspense is KILLING ME. How’s it going? Is the hot guy from Jace’s workshop getting his rocks off in that Louis XIV room again? You. Are. Killing. Me.
“You’re crazy, friend,” I mutter under my breath. I snap a quick picture of myself with one eyebrow raised and my lips twisted to the side. Typing a condensed version of our conversation from the pancake restaurant from a couple of months ago—Cages and butt plugs and metal tables, oh my—I send both to her in a private message on Snapchat. I slide my phone back inside of my bra and rejoin Jace.
He lifts a black tendril off my shoulder, sliding it between his fingertips. “Unless you want to watch the table in action, we can leave now.” I don't jump to respond to him— my brain is fuzzy from the tequila and from his touch—so he takes that as an invitation. “My sweet, beautiful Lucy,” he growls. “Am I making a freak out of you?”
I shake my head, but Jace is still skeptical because he purses his lips. “I just want to go home with you tonight.”
His stormy blue eyes darken with desire that pulsates into my body. He squeezes my ass and draws me close to him, knocking the wind out of my lungs. “Good. Let’s get out of here before I lose my patience and take you here.”
As we quietly make our departure, the first willing and ready participant is being strapped to the table he created.