Page 47
Story: Temptation at Randy's
My heart started picking up speed then—as those things I hadn’t taken the time to consider built up. “I know there are signs or something you can put outside the doors that mean people can’t walk in to watch, but I don’t know where they are, or how that works exactly.”
“Oh.” Arlene swallowed a big mouthful of air. “Yeah, that’s smart.”
It was the best I could do, even if I knew it wouldn’t suddenly soothe all her anxieties. If there was something that would, I would’ve done it already. Alas, it was out of my reach.
“Wanna wait here or come with me?” The second I phrased the question, and I processed the panic in her face, I knew I’d fucked up. “Don’t answer that. Just wait a sec.”
It wasn’t as if the club was huge, or there were many people trying to get the owner’s attention. I always forgot his name, but I knew he was always behind the bar, he made great mocktails, and he always responded when people asked for help and took them seriously. It was more than enough for me to have a high opinion of the man.
He killed it in those heels, too.
“And no one’s going to come in, right?”
I snorted. “Not unless they want to be banned for life.”
“Okay.” Arlene nodded.
I gave her a second, but when she didn’t say anything else, I took charge and started inspecting the shelves and wardrobes. There was an entire shelf full of condoms, dams, and disposable gloves. Another one was full of the kind of first aid kits masochists would need for aftercare. I was not going to need any of it, but it was good to know they had it. Who knew who could get in trouble, or which one of my messier friends ended up here and I had to guide them to it.
Yeah, I needed to surround myself with less messy people.
It wasn’t as if I collected them on purpose. They all came to me, and I was bad at turning people away. Really bad at it.
“Anything specific you had in mind?”
There were two main reasons I asked—or that’s what I told myself. First, I’d caught her staring at the stairs the second we walked in. She’d tried to cover her interest in the upstairs rooms, but I wasn’t born yesterday. I’d just figured it was better if I didn’t overwhelm her right from the start.
Second, when I’d told her I didn’t know what kind of Domm I was—or wanted to be, for that matter? Yeah, I couldn’t have been more real than that. The idea of not knowing might not be sending me in the same downward spiral it was sending Arlene, but it didn’t detract from the fact that I really didn’t know what I was doing.
I knew I wasn’t particularly interested in any of the standard toys. I was curious about others—like wax, but even though one of the drawers revealed a selection of paraffin waxes, I was not an irresponsible person. Which meant I should find a Domm out there who actually knew about wax play before I could even talk with Arlene about it.
I supposed I could talk with her before that, but that would only add more pressure. It wasn’t as if I worried she would say no to trying it. She’d talked plenty about sensation play. Even if it had been a hard no from her, though, I was a naturally curious person. It was how I’d ended up hanging out with kinky people in the first place even before I knew I wasn’t quite the sex-repulsed asexual person I’d thought I was.
Those thoughts had no place here, though. I’d just brought Arlene out of an identity crisis. Rehashing mine would not help matters.
“Not really,” Arlene murmured, “I just wanted…”
“You can just tell me, you know,” I teased, “I swear I’m not gonna break.”
One day, I’d figure out how to cram it into her head that I wasn’t going to run in the opposite direction because she wanted sex. I knew that was what she was gathering the courage to say.
The thing was, I understood why she hesitated, and I even knew how to fix it. It was the execution that was stumping me—actually talking about everything I said and did in the video that had ended my career.
Yeah, no big deal.
“I know.” Her voice pulled me back. Yeah, I usually had better control of my face muscles, but I couldn’t help but frown. “Really.”
There was laughter in her voice, a hint of mischief that drew me in.
Forgetting the open drawer I’d been inspecting, I stalked toward her. “Wanna say that again?”
Arlene giggled. It was stupidly sweet, and I hated the way it made me want to bottle it all for myself. That was weird, and not a thing that happened. Ugh.
“I do admit sometimes I worry I’ll drive you away because I’m too horny all the time, or something, but that wasn’t why I wasn’t talking just now.”
I guessed that was as honest as I was going to get. Well, it washonest, period. There was a lot to unpack there—the whole thing about driving me away didn’t sit well with me—but I could be patient. Kind of.
“Fair enough,” I hummed. “You still haven’t answered my question though.”
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