Page 53 of There’s a Way (Mythic Beast #2)
Will
I’d been waiting for Micca to share her bear with us on her own terms before I took us another step forward. I knew if I asked her, she’d have let us spend time with her bear, but I wanted her to make the offer. It took months longer than I’d hoped, but she finally did.
Why was it so important to me? I can’t explain it, other than I needed to be close to her in both of her forms. One time wasn’t enough to be close to her bear, but it was a start.
Also, she’d talked to me about ways she could be the bear inside our house, so she didn’t have to go home as often, and someone was due to come out soon to replace three of our toilets with special toilets that could easily handle her bear’s weight.
I figured our toilets should be able to handle her, but if the special ones would make her feel better about it, then so be it.
We were switching out the one in our bedroom suite, one just off the downstairs mancave, and another on the kitchen level.
I’d also bought some huge custom floor cushions to go in our bedroom, in the mancave, and one in the top of the turret, where the best views in the house can be found — three hundred and sixty degrees, all around.
She’d been clear she wanted a proper proposal, and this made me consider how I could ask her to make it special.
Ghost had asked Hailey on stage during a concert, but this was going to be a private thing. Will was going to ask her. Not Lord Byron.
The deal where she’s only dressed up and super-hot when she’s with LB is a pain in the ass, because I wanted her dressed up and gorgeous when I asked her. So, how to make that happen while keeping her in the dark about it being a special occasion where I might pop the question?
I had an idea. I’d need help to pull it off, but I called Razor instead of Matty.
And Razor readily agreed to my plan. Not only that, but he said he could get away the following weekend.
So I called Kyleigh, my travel specialist, and told her what we needed.
* * * *
Micca
I don’t know how Matty managed to convince Razor to come along on this crazy trip, but he had, and Razor looked damned fine in a tux. I mean, the jacket was leather, but still. Damned fine.
The woman Matty works with is in a poly group, and her submissive is a famous designer.
Matty drove me to Dana’s house, where Jacob got a good look at me wearing a bathing suit, walking around me, staring at me, then walking around me again, and then started sketching with a pencil on paper without saying a word.
Three or four minutes in, he said, “I need the top off, or at least the straps off her shoulders, and then shoot some pictures of her from the front, back, and sides, please Matty. My camera’s over on the table.”
I pulled the straps down and tucked them in because I wasn’t letting anyone have topless pics of me, and within ten minutes, I was looking at a picture of me on a wall screen wearing an outfit that was more skin than fabric, and it was gorgeous .
“Oh. Wow. I love it!”
He ran through several colors. I wanted black, but he said I had to pick an actual color. He finally agreed it could be a dark color instead of the bright ones he started with, and I went back and forth from a deep purple to a rich burgundy.
“Aubergine,” he finally said. “I’ve decided for you.”
I didn’t know what that meant, but I assumed it would be the burgundy, for some reason. Matty said, “Eggplant. That’s the purple one, and I agree.”
“So, I can put my clothes back on?” I asked.
Jacob shook his head. “I need some measurements. Stand against that wall, please.”
The wall he pointed to had a tall, narrow sticker with colors and lines on it, and I stood beside it.
He held his phone up, waited a few seconds, told me to turn to the side, and then told me I could put my clothes on.
“That’s cool,” Matty said. “I have an app on my phone to get a room’s measurements.
You have to be head-on with a door frame or a door to start, and then you slowly go around the room.
It tells me the room’s dimensions along with every piece of furniture.
I guess that uses the yardstick on the wall like mine uses the doorframe? ”
“Probably. It gives me every measurement I need and then some.” Jacob looked from Matty to me.
“Let’s get you back for a fitting in four days.
Your man is paying extra for a quick turnaround.
You are going to be lovely. Hair up, so it doesn’t mess with the lines, and I think flesh-colored heels, so nothing draws attention away from the dress and your body. ”
Matty and I went to dinner after, and we talked about the plans for the trip. There was this club in Paris that has these masquerade parties every month. Famous people could go and be seen without anyone knowing for sure who they are, because everyone has to wear a fancy bejeweled mask.
And I guess Will decided he’s bored and needs a weekend in Paris. Also, he’s trying to do things so I can spend more time with Matty, which I appreciate, but mostly, I was pretty excited about Matty having a chance to get his Daddy into a tux.
We’d all picked our masks already, and Will had ordered them.
“I mean, I took Will and Davy to a cabin in the North Georgia mountains,” I told Matty, “and we tubed the Hooch, and hiked to some waterfalls. My weekend to plan, and I got to pay for everything. I took them to Ocoee another weekend, and we had a fantastic time on the Ocoee and Hiawassee rivers, but my trips are never going to be able to compete with this kind of thing. I mean, I know it isn’t a competition, but still. ”
“And yet, he got all emotional on you for both trips because no one’s ever planned something like that for him. It isn’t the money, it’s the thought behind it.”
I nodded. He was right, but still.
Okay, enough of that.
“Are regular heels okay, do you think? Or should I take character shoes?”
Character shoes are what dancers wear on stage when they need to dance in heels.
Most are a t-strap, so they can’t come off, and the shoes are built so the heels won’t break even with serious dancing.
When I have to dress in heels when I’m on an op, company policy says I have to wear black character shoes, but I like them enough, I already have some tan ones.
I found some three inch and four inch Roxy character shoes I love, which are basically a t-strap on steroids, and I have both heel heights in every color the company makes – black, white, tan, and silver-glitter.
“Oh, that’s a good question,” Matty said. “Delicate heels would look best, but character shoes aren’t going to look bad.”
We looked at a bunch of updos, but I had no idea how to do the one Matty liked best. I liked it, too, but it looked complicated. We watched a video of someone doing it, and he followed me back to the Beast Castle so we could try to replicate it.
When it was finally time to leave for Paris, I was so paranoid about them losing our luggage and spoiling everything, I put my dress, shoes, and the tuxes in our carry-ons. We could buy anything else, if necessary, but the dress couldn’t be replaced.
We flew first class at night, which means our seats turned into beds, so we all slept a good part of the flight.
Will wore a manbun and kind of dorky clothes.
Davy’s hair was slicked back and he had that crazy mole on his face.
Seeing him in khakis was odd, but no one recognized them — or me, without makeup and my hair in a bun on top of my head so it’d be comfortable to sleep in.
We flew out of JFK a little after five in the evening, which means we landed in Paris a little before seven in the morning. We had the day in Paris, and we had a blast, but we were back in our room by around five that afternoon to get ready for the Masquerade des Arts.
Will’s hair was in a ponytail, because even with a mask, people might know it was him if he wore his hair the way it is on stage.
But Davy wore his hair the way he usually does, and Matty helped me get mine into the updo.
My men hadn’t actually seen me in the dress, yet. And man, was I a nervous nelly when it was on, and time to leave the bedroom in our suite to walk out into the living room, where the four men were waiting for me.
* * * *
Davy
Micca is the only woman who can give me a hard-on.
I’ve tried looking at other women, just to see.
I’ve watched porn, watched models, and looked at the women who apparently turn other men on, but none of them do it for me.
I can watch male porn and get hard lickety-split.
Even the female mistresses doing male submissives don’t do anything for me.
Unless it’s Micca, which means my dick went instantly hard the second she walked out in the not-quite-a-dress.
I mean, it covered enough so she was legal, but barely.
There were lots of shiny, eggplant colored chains holding the pieces of fabric together, and the ones draped around her waist and hips were beyond sexy.
“My-oh-my,” Master said. “I’m of a good mind to cancel the whole thing and take you to the bedroom.”
“Oh no,” Sir said. “Not on your life. I’m dressed up and we are going to this shindig.”
A limo was waiting for us outside the hotel, and we got a lot of looks on our way there. I guess it looked odd, four men and one woman, the men in tuxes, and the woman dressed as sexy as Micca. Also, the masks were probably a big part of that.
Panda and Mira were with us in Paris, but they weren’t super-close. They wouldn’t be going into the masquerade with us, either, though they’d be close outside.
The Masquerade des Arts happens in the upstairs of a world-famous restaurant, and the masks only covered our eyes and a little of our cheeks, so we could eat in them.
Our tickets included dinner in a special room of the restaurant, which we were led to as soon as the staff scanned the QR code on Master’s phone.