to…well, train isn’t the right word. But I do prefer a Dom who already knows what he wants.”
“And if you met a Dom that you wanted to take home to your parents?”
“I guess that’s what I’m hoping for. But it’s kind of hard to picture. All the guys I’ve played with in the clubs have been just play. I can’t really imagine any of them turning into real relationships. And I guess it would partly depend on what kind of life he lived outside the clubs.”
He nodded. “My best friend and his wife were in the lifestyle, and they had a fantastic marriage. So I’ve seen it, respect it, but I was always afraid it would become public somehow and ruin their lives. They were both high school teachers. I just can’t risk my job like that. The best compromise I could come up with was keeping the play to the clubs, which doesn’t leave much room for an out-of-club relationship.”
He fed her another strawberry, then set their empty glasses aside, deciding one glass each of champagne was enough.
She rested one arm along the back of the sofa, her fingers drumming a soft beat. “So it can be done, but you live your life in fear of being found out. That sucks.”
He reached out, touched her naked neck. “You’re not wearing your necklace.”
“No. I got it because I wanted to give myself this one year of really living that life, making the most of it, I guess. Not that I’m going to give it up, but that it will be different. More subtle. I guess I thought having a year of not having to be subtle would make it easier, later. Kind of like spending all that time out of the country made it easier to stay here and go to school. I’ll still travel, but never like that again.” She licked the cream off the strawberry he held out for her. “Does that make sense?”
“Sure.” And brought him the relief he’d been looking for earlier. “Makes sense to me.”
“This is weird, but nice.” She waved her hand between the two of them. “It’s like a club relationship, but without the noise and people of a club.”
He smiled. “That’s exactly what I was thinking.” Now that he was sure they were on the same page, he was eager to get his hands on her. He fed her another strawberry, trying to keep his focus on what she was saying and not on the shape of her lips as she pulled the fruit in, licked the cream up.
She must have seen a change in his expression because her breathing picked up speed and her nipples beaded under her thin dress, making him wonder if she was wearing a bra. Luckily he didn’t need to keep wondering.
“Emma. Come here.” He took the accent pillow from behind his back and dropped it to the floor at his feet.
She rose, moved so she was next to his right knee, and knelt. Beautiful, absolutely beautiful. He cupped her cheek, rubbing his thumb along her lips. He was becoming addicted to touching her.
“Stand up. Leave your shoes on, but take your clothes off. Slowly.”
Her lips curled up slightly on his last word. She rose gracefully to her feet and turned, offering him her back. Obligingly, he inched the zipper down, one finger trailing behind to run down her increasingly bared back, bumping over the strap of her bra. So she was wearing one. He wanted to see what thin confection she’d chosen that had done nothing to hide her desire from him. He was pretty sure he’d approve. When the zipper was all the way lowered, he ran his palms up her back, parting the fabric until it barely clung to her shoulders.
When he withdrew his hands, she turned carefully until she faced him. One deep breath dislodged the dress and it pooled at her feet. She wore a stark red, lacy bra that cupped her breasts lovingly and didn’t cover her nipples. It matched the equally lacy underpants that did very little to hide her assets. He most definitely approved.
“Beautiful. Take it off.”
Her smile was full this time as she reached back to release the flimsy excuse for a bra. It, too, dropped to her