More space was needed before they burst at the seams. Even their classes had started filling up at a rapid pace.
It wasn’t a bad problem to have.
It was, however, a serious future problem, if it wasn’t addressed.
And quickly.
“Thank you,” she quietly said.
“For what?”
“For not fighting me about tonight. More than you did,” she added. “And for taking Kel on as a partner. I’m worried about you.”
He reached across the seat and squeezed her hand. “Thanks for putting up with me, sweetheart.”
* * * *
After they reached Seth and Leah’s—and had run the frighteningly funny gauntlet of Seth’s personal scare show—Marcia forced herself to relax. She couldn’t even stay mad at Seth for the scare.
She was lucky she’d even gotten Derrick to agree to come to the party tonight. She’d taken it upon herself to arrange several extra volunteers to staff the club so their boss could take the night off and spend it with her.
With their personal friends.
To be fair, she enjoyed the club, loved most of the people there. But the majority of people she knew from there were customers, not friends.
This small group was made up of her friends, the Suncoast Society munch people. They’d laughed and cried together, and hell, Tilly and Leah had been two of her first frantic calls while Derrick was being rushed to the ER via ambulance. They had been the first ones to race through the door to be with her, holding her hands and then laughing in relief with her when the doctor told them that not only was Derrick not dying, but his ticker was as strong as someone half his age.
Only his gallbladder was fried.
This was where she wanted to be, not at the club every Saturday night. What use was it having the club if they couldn’t also still have a life to enjoy? Yes, they could see their friends at the club, but at the club they were working, running the office, emptying the garbage, cleaning the toilets, and all those other non-sexy kinds of tasks.
That was work.
Tonight was about fun. She was hoping for a turn on Max and Sean’s latest version of Doom, their portable bondage frame. They were supposed to be bringing one tonight for R&D.
After hearing the fallout of Mallory decking Seth, they went to go see what happened.
Marcia didn’t want to laugh at Seth, but she couldn’t help it. She could have predicted someone decking him over the joke. Only she would have put her money on it being Tilly doing the decking, not poor, sweet Mallory. Yes, his practical joke was funny, but this crowd was used to dishing out pain and potshots.
More of their friends were arriving, and pretty soon, everyone had heard about how poor mortified Mallory had decked Seth. The more praise she received, especially from the guys and Tilly, the worse she looked.
Finally, Seth put aside his latest bag of frozen peas and gave Mallory a hug.
“It’s okay. I’m sure I’ll be laughing about this when my nose doesn’t look like I got smacked by a girl.” He offered her a smile. “Seriously, we’re okay. It was my fault for scaring you.”
“Good thing it wasn’t Chelbie,” Tilly snarked from the other side of the kitchen. “She might have killed you.”
“Or you might have,” he said.
“Duh. I would hope you’d be smart enough not to scare me like that.”
“Believe me, I am.”
“You’re a good Dom, Charlie Brown.” Tilly headed off in search of Cris and Landry.
Marcia walked over. “So when are you going to be teaching another shibari class?” she asked him.
“I was going to have Leah talk to you about that tonight. Before this.” He put a fresh bag of frozen peas on his nose.
Marcia patted him on the shoulder. “Get back to me when your clock stops ringing.”
“Man, she packs a wallop.”
* * * *
Derrick suspected most, if not all, of the men there echoed his feelings—Seth deserved what he got. It was funny as hell, yes, both his practical joke and Mallory smacking the crap out of him, but not an entirely unexpected result.
Gotta let him touch the stove every once in a while, I guess.
He stepped off to the side as Scrye and June prepared to scene. He took the opportunity to lean in toward Kel.
“Thanks again, man,” Derrick said. “I really appreciate you going in with me as partners.”
Kel shrugged. “We spend so much time there anyway, so why not? If it means we can expand the club, all the better.”
“I figured let’s get everyone here told tonight. They can help spread the word.”
“Sounds good to me.”
Derrick hoped to play with Marcia tonight, if the circumstances were right. It’d been way too long since they’d been able to scene without wondering what was going on in the office, or if there was enough toilet paper in the bathrooms.
Tonight would be all about play, no business, no worries, nothing but fun.
And he knew he was looking forward to it.
Marcia wasn’t much of a masochist, but she loved sensation play. He’d brought his vampire gloves and their violet wand kit.
It thickened his cock just thinking about strapping her down onto a bench and working her over with those before making the top of her head explode with some vibrator play.
* * * *
Marcia had wandered back into the kitchen and watched as Tilly examined Seth’s nose.
“Keep the peas on it for a while longer,” Tilly said as she eased the bag of frozen veggies back into place. “You might get away without black eyes.”
“Thanks.”
“Hey, you’re lucky. I don’t think it’s broken.”
“Figures the first serious injury we ever have at a private party is a self-induced one,” Leah teased.
Seth arched an eyebrow at her over the bag of peas.
“Who is that guy I saw a little while ago?” Marcia asked.
Leah frowned. “Which guy?”
Marcia glanced through the kitchen window out at the lanai. “Well, I don’t see him now. I’ll go introduce myself next time I see him. I don’t get out enough to meet people. There are a few new faces here tonight I don’t know well, or at all.”
“Let me know,” Leah said. “Point him out to me next time you see him, and I’ll introduce you.”
“Okay. So, did you hear we’re going in with Kel as partners in the club?”
Tilly leaned against the counter. “Hey, that’s great. That’ll be a weight off your shoulders.”
“You ain’t kidding. Derrick’s been wanting to expand the club, and this is the perfect opportunity to take on some extra help with it.”
“Yay, that means we’ll actually get to see more of you here,” Leah said.
“That’s my hope.” She tried not to giggle over how ridiculous Seth looked with his makeshift ice bag. “I’m guessing no more Halloween pranks for you?”
He held up his right hand, his left still keeping the peas in place. “I swear,” he said, sounding very nasally.
* * * *
“The things I do for love,” John teased Abbey as he drove them to Seth and Leah’s house.
“What?”
“The costumes.”
“They’re adorable!” she said.
“I didn’t say they weren’t.” John Gilomen—better known to some of his friends as Gilo—was now dressed as Michelangelo from the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, complete with a stuffed turtle shell on his back and an orange mask tied around his eyes.
Abbey had chosen Donatello and wore the same costume, only with purple accessories.
At home, they’d dressed her pet Russian tortoise, George, up as Raphael, and took a picture with a stuffed turtle—decked out as Leonardo—as well as a stuffed rat filling in for Splinter.
“I thought this was a great idea,” she said.
“It’s not very BDSM-y,” John said.
“It’s hysterical. And besi
des, you love dressing George up. It’ll make a great Christmas card.” She smiled.
“Oooh no. You didn’t say anything about putting this on our Christmas cards.”
She grinned. “Why not?”
“Wh–why not?”
“You like a little public humiliation.”
“Of the consensual kind. Not the nonconsensual.”
“Oh, come on. You know it’s clever.”
“It’s not clever. That one tortoise group I’m in on Facebook, everyone was posting pictures of their pet tortoises dressed as the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles.”
“Maybe Sean and Max can work it into promo material for their website. They can dress up Baxter as Splinter and have George do quadruple duty via Photoshop as all four of the turtles.”
“For starters, he’s a tortoise, and even I don’t have to tell you that, babe. Secondly, that’s just wrong, making a cat dress up as a rat. Third—”
“It’s funny as hell.”
He let out a snort. “I didn’t say it wasn’t funny. But there might also be licensing issues to consider, did you think about that? Copyright?”
“Oh.” She frowned. “I didn’t think about that.”
“Exactly.”
She stuck her tongue out at him.
“Your anger isn’t at me, honey, it’s at copyright laws.”
“No, I’m pretty sure my anger is at you.”
“But you’re not really angry.” He grinned.
She reached across the car and poked him. “Watch out, or you’ll end up on bottom tonight before you know it.”
“Ooh, threaten me some more. You know it turns me on.”
“That is so not fair, I can’t threaten you.”
He laughed. “But it’s a win-win for you. I enjoy you torturing me, and you enjoy torturing me.”
“True.”
They paused before pulling into Seth and Leah’s driveway. “I know she told us it’d be big,” John said, “but holy crap.”
He stared for a moment, trying to take everything in before finally pulling in and finding a parking spot.
The two of them got out and looked, stunned by the display.
“Okay,” John said, “when you accuse me of going overboard with Tortoise Town? Now I get it.”
She nodded. “You haven’t gone overboard. Not compared to this.”
Leah met them at the front door before they could even open it. “Hey! Glad you made it. Adorable costumes!” She took the side dish they’d brought from them.
Abbey looked at John and stuck her tongue out at him.
“I never said they weren’t adorable!” John protested.
Chapter Five
Ed Payne always felt more than a little melancholy when he came to Seth and Leah’s house. It wasn’t that he didn’t like Seth and Leah.
He did.
But Kaden had been his friend and business partner. Being here reminded him of their collective loss.
“That’s some Halloween display he’s set up,” Hope observed.
Ed checked to make sure the envelope was still tucked in his pocket. “Yes, it is.” He caught sight of someone walking across the front yard and disappearing around the far side of the house. For a second, his eyes deceived him, no doubt overlaying a memory of Kaden and the extravagant Christmas displays onto what he was seeing now.
Or maybe that was guilt for his little charade tonight.
He glanced at his watch, wondering where the guy was. He recognized all of the cars already parked in the driveway, and none of them belonged to the actor he’d hired.
An actor fitting a very specific, exacting description.
Yes, these had been Kaden’s instructions. He wouldn’t claim to understand all of them. That wasn’t his job.
His task was to complete the last thing on his list, the last thing he’d promised Kaden he would do. Complete the task, deliver the envelope, and then he’d be able to look forward.
Hopefully, no one would spot him placing the envelope.
His wife had been looking forward to this party. Their bedroom activities rarely got a fraction as wild as some of these private parties, but he couldn’t deny it was fun to come watch. And as Kaden himself had once said, if people didn’t want to be watched, they could stay home and play in their bedrooms. Voyeurs were a key part of the equation for some people.
Grabbing the casserole potluck dish they’d brought, he followed his wife up the front walk toward the door.
I don’t understand your mind, Kaden, but I’ll do what you asked because you were my friend.
* * * *
Kel pulled Mallory aside, walking her down the hall to the playroom and closing the door for privacy.
“Sweetheart, you need to let it go. It was an accident, Seth admits he deserved it, and he said he’s not mad at you.”
She still looked near tears. “I hit him.”
“When the man himself is telling you he’s not upset about it, believe him. And I am proud of you.”
“For hitting our friend?”
He didn’t understand why she was so hung up on this, but knew trying to force her to get over it not only wouldn’t work, it wouldn’t be fair to her. “I’m sure he and Leah both will be telling this story over and over again for the laughs. This is going to be legendary amongst our friends.”
“I still can’t believe I hit him.”
“Would you like me to spank you? Would that make you feel better?”
She didn’t reply.
He made her look at him. “I was joking, sweetheart. You’re not in trouble. You didn’t do anything wrong. Do you trust me?”
“Of course I do.”
“Then don’t you think if you’d screwed up that I’d be the first person telling you? Am I not always honest with you?”
She nodded.
“Okay.” He pressed a tender kiss to her forehead. “Now let’s get you into the bathroom. Wash your face, blow your nose, and when you come out, let’s have fun. Okay?”
“Okay.”
They left the playroom door open behind them. Kel stopped at the bathroom. “I’ll be out on the lanai. When you finish, why don’t you fix me a cup of iced tea and bring it to me.” He hoped that little bit of service might help her realign her mind.
She nodded. “Yes, Sir.”
“Good girl.” He waited until she’d locked the bathroom door behind her before heading down the hall.
* * * *
Yes, Mallory knew Seth wasn’t upset.
It didn’t lessen her mortification over the incident.
When she stepped over to the sink and looked up, a startled scream caught in her throat. Then she laughed as she turned. Pushing the semi-opaque shower curtain aside, she found a blow-up clown in the shower. For just a second, she’d thought she’d seen a man’s face in the mirror, a vaguely familiar face, but it must have been a trick of the light.
Leaving the shower curtain open so the next victim didn’t get quite the fright she had, Mallory finished what she needed to do and headed back out to get Kel his cup of iced tea.
* * * *
June closed her eyes as Scrye started tying her. She didn’t have to do a lot of wiggling while he tied his rigging. He knew where and how to tie her, considering she was the one he tied most of the time. He knew exactly how tight to make the different sections, where to place the ropes. She didn’t have to waste his time flexing and testing every single placement to make sure it was secure and not too tight. She loved the feel of the ropes sliding over her flesh, temporarily becoming part of her.
Maybe it was wifely pride on her part, but other than Kel, there were few riggers she’d watched who could tie as well as her husband. Yes, some of their friends were really good, but many of them didn’t do suspensions. Anyone could learn to tie a beautiful, decorative chest harness.
It took a skilled craftsman to safely tie a suspension rig, much less a gorgeous one.
It was kind of her fault Scrye got into it in the first
place. He’d watched her teaching their girls macramé for a Girl Scout project, and she’d witnessed the moment his eyes lit up.
That night, he’d scarfed her spools of macramé yarn and played with her in bed once the girls were asleep.
And then the fun really started from there.
He threw himself into learning macramé and the art of tying both decorative and functional knots on the pretense of wanting to help the girls with their scouting projects.
But he took everything he learned into the bedroom and honed, refined it there.
Once they had a computer with Internet at the house, he really expanded his skills upon learning not only were there other people out there who liked to tie people up with decorative knots, but there were names for it—shibari and kinbaku.
Then he found out not only could you tie people up, you could suspend them at the same time.
Challenge accepted.
Scrye’s hands roamed her body as he wove a suspension harness around her. Yes, she was more flexible and lighter in build than the average bunny, things that worked to Scrye’s advantage when he planned his ties.
But she loved the time with him, his full, undivided attention on her while he tied her, a silent connection they shared while she was caught in his ropes.
It felt like the world dropped away, nothing existing inside the bubble but the two of them.
That, more than anything—more than the play, more than the orgasms—was what she enjoyed. The energy exchange, the power exchange.
She was aware of their friends talking, of people laughing and the barbecue grill going at the other end of the lanai. Of people playing inside the house, the sounds of a female voice pitching up in the unmistakable sounds of an orgasm.
It didn’t matter. It was like muffled cotton, faded, distant. All she focused on was the feel of Scrye’s hands, the feel of the rope, the sound of his breathing and muttering as he talked to himself while tying her.