The Dom With the Perfect Brats (21 page)

Izzy

Izzy could tell from Gemma’s expression that she was about to let loose a string of profanities.

She lunged
across the back seat of Cross’s truck and put her hand over Gemma’s mouth only to have her teeth close on her palm.

“Please,” she mouthed, pleading with her eyes. Then she silently gave her a command she’d heard all too often. “Behave!”

Gemma glared but nodded and Izzy took her hand away.

Smiling sweetly, she answered Cross’s question about whether they were going to be good girls on the shopp
ing trip. “Yes, Sir.”

Izzy let out a little sigh of relief though the day was far from over.

Cross had given his little heartfelt lecture back at the apartment about public protocol and behavior – heartfelt because she could also see him with that tiny frowny crease between his eyes whenever he studied Gemma. Fuck, she knew them both so well now, and that’s what really hurt.

Cross wanted them to stick to his rules, and Gemma wanted to question them. She’d always thought she had the biggest mouth of anyone. Gemma had her beat, hands down.
The past few weeks together had proven that, if nothing else. This was the first time Cross was expecting specific behavior from them in public, gearing up to dinner at Jude’s. He’d postponed it several times already because his friend Q hadn’t been feeling well.

The new
est rule was no swearing. She’d been thinking about this, and dreading what Gemma would do, all the way to the shopping center.

If anything she got worse at bratting when Cross gave them new rules. She was sure he meant to break them in slowly and quietly to this odd little universe of protocol, but it was mostly having the opposite effect on Gemma – each new law
laid down seemed to pile up and build her fires of resistance.

Not that she liked them either but
...

They walked, flanking Cross, across the top rooftop level of this car park, as he headed for the lifts going down to the shops.

When halfway to the lifts, he stopped. “Back in a minute. You two keep going. I just saw the guy I need to talk to about a fashion show here next month. Go ahead, I’ll catch up.”

Izzy smiled at Gemma then quietly took her hand as they walked on without him.

The way her fingers settled inside Gemma’s felt so right. And, when she had them both by her side, she sometimes wondered how she could ever live without them.

H
ow many years had she waited for this – to be able to hold the hand of her girlfriend? No way was she going to relinquish the two of them without a fight – not when they all got on so well outside of the realm of rules. Not when, she sneaked a look sideways, her girlfriend was a hot tattooed chick with an ass that was made for biting. Whenever Gemma walked lithely away from her, with her hips and ass swaying, it was hold-your-breath time.

“You okay?” Gemma asked.

“Yes.” She squeezed Gemma’s fingers and took a chance. “Always when I’ve got your hand in mine, because you’re you.”

Gemma shook her head, but her grin arrived soon after. “Flatterer.”

“I’m being romantic. Go with it.” They’d arrived at the lifts and Izzy inclined her head. “You don’t mind me saying that, do you?”

For once Gemma had no smart reply. Her gaze softened as she regarded Izzy. “No.” Full of purpose, with her bottom lip sucked in, she put her hands on Izzy’s upper arms and backed her up against the wall – not exactly crowding her, but making sure Izzy couldn’t go anywhere else easily.
“I like you too, silly.”

Those pretty
green eyes of Gemma’s focused only on her, making the world shrink in. “Now I’m going to kiss you.”

Oh my.
A flutter of panic started in her chest. Not here, in public. “I just wanted you to try things his way today, without protesting. He’s trying too, I’m sure.” She babbled on. “Like his last sub he didn’t even let on the chairs. Remember? So I figured the swearing thing was worth –”

“Shh.” Gemma lowered her mouth, coming in for that kiss.

“Fuck,” she whispered, making Gemma pause. “Do all straight girls get so pushy when they decide they’re bi?”

“I doubt it. And I’m not bi.”

“You cert –”

Then Gemma’s lips met hers. So serene, yet sexual. So insistent, yet without force. For a while, for several, long, soft-breathing seconds, they took each other’s mouths, trading positions as to who was dominant. The taste of
this woman’s mouth was gentle too, just like her body. Gemma moved a bit nearer, her breasts pressing on Izzy’s. Their legs entwined, their hands were on each other’s backsides, over the denim, and Izzy’s clit, inevitably, tingled to life.

It might have only been seconds, but when they separated, it seemed like forever had passed. She panted, licked her lips. “You’re getting better at that.”

Gemma chuckled then turned and settled her back against the wall next to Izzy. “No, sorry, you’re not getting in my pants that easily.”

She whispered her reply to Gemma’s ear. “Too late, already been there.”

Cross strode up to them. “All set. Let’s go.”

When they were in the lift, and had pressed the button to go down to the ground floor, he gathered them to him and kissed first Gemma, then Izzy on the lips. He kept them in the circle of his arms. “My friend nearly came in his pants watching you kiss.”

Izzy snorted. “Gross! Lucky the roof was deserted, apart from us, or I’d have never done that!”

The idea of the friend watching them both mortified and amused her. Maybe she was getting used to all this
sexiness in public thing.

“Why?” Cross asked
. He hugged her closer for a second.

Gemma just smiled, but she could see the question in her eyes too.

“Uh.” She shrugged. “Told you. My parents are homophobic. Kissing a girl when others can see...”

“Is damn hot,” Cross finished. “So I expect to see more.”

“Fuck,” she muttered.

“
Excuse me?” His rumbly voice emphasized his unhappiness as did the stern glare he pinned her with.

“Fuck,” she squeaked. “Oops. I mean –”

Gemma snickered. “And you were worried about
me
?” But she smoothed her hand up Izzy’s side as if reassuring her.

“
Consider that your one and only warning.” Cross released them. “I open the doors for you. You’re to be respectful. You’re not to swear. And you call me Cross instead of Sir – but I expect to hear the sir in your tone.” He eyed them both.

“Sure. I can do that.” She shot Gemma a strained toothy smile and let her eyelids open wide in a silent plea.

“Fine. I’ll see if I can do this. I know it means a lot to you...both.” Gemma nodded.

“Thank you.” At the same time, he cupped their chins in his large hands. “If you crave submission, you
’ll find this suits you, in time.”

In time? Truthfully, even she didn’t understand this. But
...she did crave. Remembering all the things Cross had done to them –
that
she craved. Already she knew she could never be satisfied with plain and simple “vanilla,” as Cross termed it. She loved it when he pushed her and took her places she’d never in a million years have gone by herself.

It was just these bloody rules that freaked her out. But, she firmed her mouth, she could adapt, if that’s what was needed. She could.

They spent the next few hours exploring the shops – clothes, jewelry, and just before lunch time they ventured out of the main enclosed area and found a second-hand bookshop. Those were rare, what with ebooks taking over the market.

Cross held the
glass-and-timber door open for them, and ushered them in ahead of him.

“Mr. Cross!” the shopkeeper greeted him – a bald little man who didn’t bother rising from the stool behind his old cash register. “Long time no see.”

“Too long.” He turned to her and Gemma. “You two want to have a look for anything?”

“
Do you have an art section?” Gemma inquired of the little man.

“Yep. Around to your right, just mind the stacks I haven’t organized yet. Art is next to history.”

“Okay.”

Izzy followed Gemma as they weaved between aisles made as much from piles of books as
they were from bookshelves. Soon they found a huge section of art books of all sorts, shapes and sizes.

“Wow.” Gemma said in a hushed tone. “Love this. There’s something about
the feeling of laying a book out on a table that you can’t get online. Can you look for anything medieval, Izzy? You know, books that have old art work, sculpture, paintings?”

“I can do that.”

For a while they worked at digging through the piles of utterly unalphabetical books. By the time Cross called for them, they had unearthed four great big art books and Gemma quickly sorted out the two she really wanted. They lugged them back and, after some small whispered hints from Izzy, she gave in and let Cross pay for them as well as his bag of novels.

Izzy sneezed. “Old books make me sneeze – musty smell gets to me.”

“These are for my dad.” Cross raised the bag. “So I’ll be getting rid of them. Let’s go find somewhere for lunch.”

“Am I going to give you hayfever if I read these near you?” Gemma asked, brows raised.

“No, it’s okay. The smell seems to stop affecting me pretty fast. I’ll live.”

“Wait.” He stopped at a garbage bin, set the bag down, and proceeded to tear the covers off the books, and throw the
m away.

Both she and Gemma watched open-mouthed.

“Cross?” Gemma intruded. “What on earth are you doing? And why?”

“Because…” Cross tore half the cover off the last book and tossed the tortured book back into his bag. “Because my mother will re-sell them before my
father gets to read them if I don’t do this.” He eyed them both, steadily. “She’s a long-term addict with no qualms about selling anything to get money for drugs.”

The unfairness of that jarred her. She’d had no idea Cross had a shitty family life
, but then, in this day and age, who didn’t? Gemma wore a blank expression – this had stunned her too.

Izzy lightly touched his arm. “I’m sorry, Cross. I had no idea –”

“Nothing anyone can do.” He shrugged. “Life isn’t all butterflies and rainbows.”

“
I’m so sorry. That really sucks.” There was Gemma with the lip nibbling again. Whenever she got nervous, it happened. Most times, it made Izzy want to kiss her mouth, but not now.

She struggled for a reply to Cross’s fata
listic statement, but was lost.

He hefted the bag. “
Enough about her. Let’s go find lunch.”

The atmosphere took a decidedly sad tone
for while. But they bought hamburgers and soda, found seats outside the takeaway shop with a view of the indoor garden and giant chess board, and began chatting again. There were no tables spare so they sat at a bench and she was stuck between Cross and Gemma, but she didn’t mind. It was kind of cozy.

This seemed as good a time as any to broach an idea she’d had. So she lowered her burger to her lap and tried it out on them. “You know how I’m writing articles for the Cobalt Harbor newspaper
?” When they nodded she went on. “Well, I thought maybe I could do one on the tattoo industry and feature you both in photos since you have awesome tats and Gemma,” she inclined her head toward her, “is an artist. It would be good for both your shop, Cross, and Malachi’s if I can squeeze in references to those, and, and all...” She waited.

The pause left them both staring at her. Gemma broke first.

“You want pictures?” Her eyebrow arched. “Naked ones of Cross, I hope.”

She stuck out her tongue,
with the tip on her upper lip, finding that a smile had arrived. “Maybe. We could do some tasteful ones, of your back, both of you. That would be so sexy. The paper would love it!” Izzy glanced from one to the other.

Cross bit off some burger then shook his head.
“You’re joking.”

“I’m game to do it, Cross. It’d help Izzy. We can
check the pictures before they get sent.”

Though every time she sent in an article
to the paper, excitement vied with the fear of rejection, Izzy could see this one being a winner. “Please, Cross,” she pleaded from under her eyebrows.

He sighed. “Me? You want pictures of ugly me? You’ll crack the camera lens.”

Shit. He’d not been happy at the book signing about the photos. This was nearly the same.

“Bullshit,” Gemma blurted. “Everybody knows you’re fucking gorgeous. Get used to it.”

It was too late for Izzy to stop her swearing. She groaned and waited for the shitstorm to start. To her surprise, Cross stood and moved to the other side of Izzy where Gemma was nibbling at her burger. She froze, mouth open, when he loomed over her.

“I’ll be dealing with you and your dirty mouth later, girl.”