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“No, I love this.” He plucks kittens off his chest. “Me, about to fuck you.”
His lips aim for mine, and I don’t interrupt. Not like I could. Axel gives me more than a kiss. He takes me hot and hard like an animal. Then he licks, devouring me like his last meal, and moaning at our flavor. But when he takes me again, deeply with our sweating bodies and gasping breath intertwined, he takes me…
Like I’m the only one he trusts.
“You should letyour Dom choose your collar.” Zar shakes his head, full of advice. “And your nipple clamps. Any of your bondage, he picks.”
“But, I want to surprise …him.” Admiring a gold collar, I make sure not to say names. “I want to get a piercing for him.” I turn, asking Vale, “Is your piercer here today?”
It’s bittersweet for now.
I know who Vale is—the manager of Delta’s, Alena’s best friend, and Nash’s next queen. But she doesn’t know me yet. Well, not that I’m Axel’s next queen.
She knows me as Scarlett Mercier’s little sister and Zar Rollins’s friend. As Luca’s subs, they’re here often.
And they’re super close with Stacey Evans, the owner ofDelta’s, who met us here to help Scarlett outfit the sex room in her new beachfront house. Not that Scarlett’s in the mood for anything with her secret morning sickness.
But she and Zar promised they’d help me shop for my reunion with “Michael Cummings,” aka Axel King, aka Aleksi Kholodov.
God, I have to constantly remind myself not to slip up with his name. I mean …names.
So, we’re gathered as clandestine networks, half revealing our interconnected worlds, in the lavish showroom on the second floor of a sex store, while Axel patiently waits outside.
“Sure, our piercer is here,” Vale answers, considering which lingerie set to wear tonight. I hope she picks the black lace one for her initiation. With her sexy Wednesday Addams vibe, it will look stunning on her alabaster skin. “But just know, whatever you pierce, you can’t play with it for six to ten weeks. It has to heal.”
“Spoken like Doctor Sex,” Stacey adds.
“Six to ten weeks?” I huff, disappointed. “Never mind.”
“Sorry.” Vale smiles with a sweet shrug.
“What about kink jewelry?” Zar suggests, perusing the cock rings.
“Uh, that didn’t go well the last time I wore it. Men asked how much I cost.”
“That’s right,” Zar remembers, chuckling. “Who knew NFL players could spot fetish jewelry?”
“NFL?” Vale sounds intrigued, asking me, “Is that your new Dom, an NFL player?”
“No.” I turn toward the display shelves featuring every high-end sex toy imaginable. I can’t lie to her face while I confess a half-truth, “I dated a quarterback over a year ago. He was closeted, and I was sort of his beard. He took me to events, and I was happy to help him, but the poor guy tried too hard. He started buying me way-too-revealing dresses andkink jewelry. I started to look more like his escort and his teammates gave him shit for it. So we,” I air quote, “broke up.”
“It’s sad he couldn’t be out,” Vale says. “A lot of athletes can’t. But I get it. Sometimes, secrets are kinder than the truth.”
Silence falls over the room.
I swear, you could hear a flea fart as all glance around, each hiding dark secrets for good reasons and no one asking about them.
There’s too much respect in the room. Friendship, too.
“How about these?” Stacey breaks the awkward silence. She gestures toward a table of lingerie with accessories and suggests, “Vibrating panties: they’re not just for Doms.”
Zar nods. “Perfect.”
“I agree,” Scarlett adds before touching her lips. “Uh, excuse me.” She rushes out of the showroom, and we exchange silent glances again.
Even with Stacey Evans, looking like she’ll have her baby any second, no one breaks the compassionate code: Never ask a woman if she’s pregnant.
Taking Stacey’s suggestion, I select a pair of panties and wait downstairs for Scarlett. Zar joins me, clearly excited about the stainless steel cock ring he bought.