“—and then Maya got to have some time on the whipping post, which made her really happy.” I paused. “I don’t even think she was bummed about being disqualified. She said she just wanted to have lots of sensual experiences with lots of people. And she did. And then Drix won the Ultimate Hunter award, so I’m guessing he and Miles got themselves a good housewarming present.”
“Babe?” Kel said. “We were there for that part.”
I rolled my eyes up to meet her gaze. Grinned. “I know. You wanted the whole story, though.” We were on the couch, the three of us, with Kel in the middle and Greg and me leaning on her.
She traced my collar. “We’ve heard a lot about what you saw happen to other people. But I thought you were gonna tell us about what happened to you on the whipping post.”
It was true: In telling my hunt story, I’d ended up talking mostly about what I’d witnessed in the woods or in the camp. And very little about my brief scene with Drix.
“It’s hard to explain—”
“Do you need to be over the back of the couch while you explain it?”
I sighed. She had no patience for my evasive answers. She really would beat the details out of me if she had to.
I tried again. “I can’t describe how he did it. He would touch a part of my body. And the tension would . . . leave. It’s not really a hot story or anything. It was just . . . nice.”
She kissed my forehead. “Good.”
“And he whipped you?” Greg asked.
I closed my eyes, trying to put myself back there. On the post, I’d had that too-familiar realization that being humiliated by someone besides Kel or Greg was not as hot as it sounded. But the moment Drix had put his hand on me, I’d stopped being nervous. I’d listened to him, even though he’d hardly said a word. And afterward, we’d talked. About regular stuff: movies, jobs, whatever. But also about the work he did with people’s bodies. He’d recommended a bunch of healing stuff I might eventually google: ASMR, craniosacral therapy. Something else I couldn’t remember the name of.
I didn’t know whether I wanted to try more ways to fix myself. I was doing pretty damn well these days. I mean, I’d finally composed a story where I was a fucking barrel-rolling badass.
“Yeah. I got hard while he was touching me. But it wasn’t, like . . . So I asked if he’d whip me. I hardly . . . It was like I was somewhere else. I’m sorry I can’t remember more.”
I opened my eyes in time to see Kel look at Greg. She was fighting a smile. “What do you think, Greg? A satisfying tale?”
Greg pretended to consider. “It has a lot of stuff I like: Sex and guns . . . an ultimate sacrifice made for a friend . . . The narrator does skimp on the dirty details, but I can forgive that.”
“All right.” Kel tugged my hair. “You’re off the hook.”
“Well,” Greg said. “I don’t know about off the hook. He did get himself captured.”
I buried my face in the side of Kel’s chest and snickered. “Like a hero.”
Kel put her arm around me. “My God. How can I punish him when he sacrificed himself to save his friend?”
Greg snorted. “I’ll bet you can manage. Look at him. He’s not even taking this seriously.”
I blindly extended an arm, trying to whack Greg’s knee. He laughed and swatted back. “Your slave is out of control, Ma’am.”
She took my wrist and placed my arm back by my side. “You’re both out of control. I’m gonna go upstairs and shower. And think of a way to debase the two of you. You’d better be in bed waiting for me when I’m done.”
“Yes, Ma’am.”
I lifted my head. “Yes, Master.”
She stood.
“May I get a drink?” I asked.
“You may.”
She left, and I got up and headed into the kitchen. Poured myself some water, and poured a glass for Greg too. He came in a moment later, and I handed him his glass. “Here, sir.”
I started toward the foyer.
“Not so fast.”
I paused.
He put the glass down and came up behind me. Stood there without touching me. “You left out a major part of the story. An encounter with a sexy woods patrolman?”
I took a sip of water. “Ohhhh. I forgot.”
“Did you now?”
“Yes, sir,” I said, as smoothly as I could manage.
He placed his hands just barely on my sides, sending a thin trail of heat down my spine. “Did you leave it out because you called the woods patrolman a dork? And he just happens to be your master’s second-in-command?”
I set my glass on the counter and faced him. “I left it out so as not to get the patrolman in trouble for attempting to steal my virtue in the middle of a high-stakes hunt.”
He rested his hands more firmly on my hips. “How considerate.”
“I’ll tell her, if you want. How you tried to ruin me.”
“Oh, please.”
“Tried to pluck my snow-white flower.”
“You are so full of shit.”
“Forced me to yield my maidenhead.” I turned and took a couple of steps.
He followed me, caught me by the hips again. “Listen to you.”
I tipped my head back. Grinned at him, upside down. “What’s wrong, sir?”
“You poor blushing virgin.” He pinched my ass. Hard.
“Do I have to tell her you tried to get fresh with me in the kitchen too?”
“She can’t save you now.” He reached around and grabbed my wrists. Pinned them against my chest.
I stopped breathing. He hesitated, his knuckles touching my chest, his breath warm on the back of my neck. We could probably both feel my pounding heart.
“Have mercy,” I whispered.
He leaned forward, so slowly, until his lips brushed my ear. “Not a chance.”
He turned me around and kissed me. I couldn’t stop laughing, and soon he was laughing too.
“Come here.” He pulled me hard against him and backed up, hauling me with him toward the stairs. “I’m gonna make you beg and mean it.”
Which was precisely how I wanted this story to end.