Worth The Wait: A Nature Of Desire Series Novel (11 page)

She was lost. He was insatiable, and she had no will to stop him. She wanted to tell him to fuck her, take her, drive into her until there was nothing left, but the fear, the tiniest voice in this raw wilderness, kept her silent. Until he sent her over another peak, a level she didn’t think she could reach so fast, so hard, clawing at his bare shoulders, a strangled scream burning her throat

“Enough,” she gasped as she came down from that. “Enough. You’ll kill me.”

“It’s never enough, love. Not with a gorgeous spirit like yours.”

He straightened and drew her into his arms. When he cradled her on his lap, it was clear how very hard he was. She didn’t have the strength to sit up on her own, let alone do anything else, but she wasn’t a selfish lover. “If you want me to…”

“Sssh. I’ll tell you when I want something from you. Rest. Just rest, love. Let me hold you. This was all to give you your first sub experience. It doesn’t need to be anything more than that.”

Apparently shattering her universe was more than enough for one night. She closed her eyes, her arms creeping around his back and waist to hold onto him. She tried not to think beyond this moment or resurrect the ludicrous idea she could keep herself detached from this. If she’d had any doubts about her dormant submissive side, he’d just chased them all away. And brought it to full, vibrant life.

She craved surrender. She craved the trust that went with it, this feeling of safety and flying. The feel of being in the arms of a man who knew how to command her heart and soul while cherishing both.

She’d had plenty of loser dates and boyfriends. Yes, they’d hurt her, but she’d recovered, found herself again. Yet she was suddenly, terrifyingly sure she’d met the man capable of breaking her past repair. This was supposed to be a research exercise. Not even a real date.

She was in deep trouble.

“
Y
ou know how
, when you go to see something like the Grand Canyon, you get this sense of a once-in-a-lifetime experience?” Julie frowned. “You’re really grateful for it and everything, but if you look at it from the Grand Canyon’s perspective, it probably doesn’t see the big deal. It’s awesome all the time.”

Madison lifted her head from her perusal of a catalog. “Why do adult toy manufacturers put the most hooker-ish looking porn star possible on their packaging?” she asked. “I’m selling these things to women. They want beauty and sensuality, not someone who looks like she just sucked off an entire NFL team. Look at this. Her botoxed lips are stuck in a fish mouth shape.”

Julie looked and nodded sagely. “The Grand Canyon’s self-introspection and fish-lipped porn stars on vibrator packaging. We should find the overlap. What’s that horrible math thing that involves the interlocking circles? Is that trig?”

“You’re using a cryptic analogy to avoid talking about what’s really bugging you. I’m waiting for you to work your way to the real problem. Maybe they figure men are buying the vibrators for women.” Madison continued her musings. “Get your wife this vibrator and she’ll turn into a porn star who will want to blow you every hour of the day, except during football.”

“She’ll do it at half time,” Julie suggested. “Which will make you feel awesome, like the Grand Canyon. Or turn your pecker into one of those big rock pilings in the Grand Canyon. See, overlap.”

Madison snorted and set aside the catalog. “I want to go shopping. Let’s go buy Christmas decorations for the theater.”

“It’s not Christmas yet. Your theater may flop and be closed by then, and the decorations will make you sad.”

“Wow, thanks for the optimism. I want to go to that new year-round Christmas store on Harris Boulevard.” Madison offered a plate of scones. “We both need a break. We’ve been laying out the program, figuring out front-of-house staff, estimating ticket sales against future theater improvements, et cetera, et cetera, for the past three hours. Enough work for a Sunday already. You’ve been doing nothing but working since you got here. Well, except for that Conservatory date that wasn’t a date.”

Julie took a scone. “If you keep feeding me like this, I am going to become a very round theater manager.”

Madison cocked a brow. “Okay, that time you cut your eyes away from me. You did something with Des other than the orchid date that wasn’t a date, didn’t you? Did you do the rope session with him?” When Julie refused to say, focused on chewing, Madison hmphed. “Hence the Grand Canyon question. And the type of math you mentioned is the area of union of two intersecting circles. Geometry.”

“Do not practice your mathematical wiles on me. Let’s ask Troy to come over and model some underwear.” Julie looked toward one of the wall displays in Madison’s shop. “Ooh, or that harness thing. We could test body oils on him.”

“Shale put a halt to any experimentation on Troy. I’m only allowed to do that if she or Logan is present. Spoilsport bitch.”

“Which one of them, Logan or Shale?” Julie grinned. “And she only put the kibosh on you. I can say it’s a skit idea for the upcoming show.”

Troy was Logan’s hardware store employee, as well as a submissive for the stunning and intimidating Mistress Shale. Shale and Troy were part of the
Consent
cast, so Julie had had the pleasure of getting to know both of them better, enough to enjoy teasing them in absentia, like now.

Madison’s shop was closed today, the front drapes drawn so they weren’t disturbed by the sidewalk traffic. One of their reasons for meeting here had been to go over things in the erotica boutique they would be using as props in the upcoming show.

“In your dreams, girl. I’d advise you to keep your greedy paws off Troy’s body. I’ve seen what Shale can do with a whip.” Madison sobered, reaching across her glass display counter to touch Julie’s hand. “Seriously, what’s going on? You look a little miserable. Was Des unkind? Does Logan need to break his legs?”

“No. Far from it. He’s amazing. Too much, really.” Julie put down her scone.

Madison’s friendly openness, the kind expression on her face, were a welcome invitation to open up about the chaos of feelings Julie had been experiencing since what had happened with Des. She hadn’t seen him in several days, though it wasn’t because he’d dropped her like a hot potato. He’d left her a couple of messages and inquiring texts, gentle leads to give her space but welcome her communications.

She’d responded generally but she guessed she’d done a good job at indicating she needed a little space, because he hadn’t pushed. Though she wondered if that was because it didn’t matter to him what the sub whose world he’d rocked was doing. She was just one of many subs with whom he’d done scenes. It was stupid of her to resent that, since she’d stated up front that was what she’d intended their session to be. Just a session. But she hadn’t expected it to feel…the way it had. World rocking. She hadn’t expected to feel this way about
him
.

She hated this insecure side of herself, but Madison was in a position to understand it better than anyone. Julie didn’t know if that made things better or worse.

She started with halting sentences before pouring it all out in her usual circular, free flow way that could tie a listener’s brain in knots. Fortunately, Madison kept pace with her. Her road with Logan had been zigzag, double-back and upside down, too, though he’d helped her find her way forward again.

Was that something that all Doms had, or just the really good ones? The ability to steady a submissive soul? And did they also always leave that soul so flipped out and feeling out of control once the session was done?

“Yeah, at first,” Madison said. “In session, you have this mind-shattering experience. Outside it, you have to wrap your mind around what happened, what it all means, how it will impact your world, and what does this guy really want from me, blah, blah, blah.”

“That sums it up,” Julie said glumly. “But that’s the thing, Madison. It was incredible, it really was, but it happened so fast and so smoothly, I can’t tell if it’s like a doctor’s office. The doctor knows his role, and steps into it with all this authority, and we understand our role as patient. But when we leave, here comes another patient. I don’t know if I can handle that this guy can give me this incredible experience, and yet I’m just one of many incredible experiences he hands out like ice cream from the back of a truck on a summer day.”

“Have you asked him to clarify?”

“Uh, no. I have no desire to be the woman who says ‘Hey, I know we met about a minute ago, but I’m just wondering. That mind shattering orgasmic experience you gave me? Was that headed on the road to permanent commitment, a shared apartment and adopting a dog together, or was it more in the hippie category of a great LSD trip, aka let’s do it again when we’re both in the mood, sometime, maybe?’ I am so done with being the clingy, strangle a commitment out of somebody, kind of girl.”

She stood up. “I said I wasn’t going to get into any more goddamn, freaking relationships, so why am I thinking about him like this?”

She shook her head, holding up a hand before Madison could answer. “I have a hard enough time with vanilla relationships and not screwing them up. I don’t have the strength for this. I should just let it go. I can’t become part of his harem.”

Madison tapped her fingers on the glass counter. “Okay and fine, if he did take you at your word and it was just a session for him. But what if he’s genuinely interested in you?”

The leap in her chest at the idea was far too immediate and schoolgirl crush crazy. “Why would he be?” Julie retorted. “It’s far more likely he just wants to encourage me to do more sessions with him, so I can be another fascinating submissive experience. He’d walk away after a few more times, and I’d be blown away by it. Quite literally, with me looking for the pieces for the next five years. But that’s not what I’m looking for.”

“What are you looking for then?”

“Nothing,” Julie said bluntly. “Nothing anymore. Let’s go shopping.”

* * *

O
n Monday
, she’d decided she should reinforce her point by oh-so-casually telling Des she’d really enjoyed their time together, but that was all she needed in terms of firsthand experience on rigging. Closure, end of story. Over the weekend, by firmly blocking any memory of his touch, voice, scent or otherwise overwhelmingly masculine attributes, she’d been able to regain perspective, and she knew what she’d told Madison was right. She just had to hold on to that. He wasn’t interested in her like that, and she wasn’t interested in thinking otherwise.

Okay, yeah, she was, but what had captured her was the first, exciting, wonderful, lighter-than-air feelings that happened with infatuation. She wasn’t interested in the soul-sucking crash and burn that always happened afterward. If the cookie was poisoned, say no to the cookie. The two couldn’t be separated.

Regardless, there was no time to deal with it today. The lights and sound equipment had arrived, along with a few of the scenery pieces and larger props. The theater was overrun with students setting up the technical elements, as well as carpenters, electricians and a few cast members providing extra hands. Tomorrow the full cast would start doing the run-throughs in the theater with the sound and lighting in place. Prior to this, they’d been meeting at Harris’s house as a temporary rehearsal studio, since his Mistresses had a large basement for both home dungeon and rec room.

Like her, her stage manager was a tornado of energy today. He was making constant updates to his production book, which he maintained on his tablet and file shared with her and the volunteers who would be in charge of light, sound and scenery cues during the performances.

“Hey, Julie.” He buzzed her on the radio, since she was in the lobby with the house manager. “We’ve almost got Pablo’s frame set up and Des texted me. He’s going to come by shortly to review the rigging stuff with Pablo like you wanted.”

“Was Myers able to make it?”

“No, his kid had soccer practice, but he said he and Des could meet one-on-one. He’ll take care of the arrangements.”

“I love a self-sufficient cast member. Thanks.”

Okay, so good then. She’d tell Des her feelings when he arrived, all quick and casual like, and catch two birds with one net. Or let them go, because their wing beats against the inside of her stomach and chest were making her want to fly to pieces. She didn’t have time for this shit.

“Honey-chile, you are going like a freight train today. Or like a freight train’s chasing you.”

The sultry voice, a masculine Lauren Bacall, wreathed her face in a smile. Billie Dee-Lite was a professional drag queen popular in clubs across the Carolinas and in Virginia. He and Logan were friends, so the she-male, as Billie liked to call himself, had agreed to lend his emcee talents to
Consent
. Good transitions were essential to maintaining and transforming the mood between the erotic skits, and Billie would provide that very effectively.

Technically, he didn’t have to be here today, but he was in town and had offered to pitch in. To do that, the drag queen was wearing jeans that made the most of his high, taut ass, and a pair of square-heeled boots. The only nod to his profession was his expertly applied makeup and the Moulin Rouge T-shirt he wore with a spray of sequins across it. It was a provocative look, Julie admitted, the makeup and entrenched female movements of Billie’s body coupled to the obviously well-developed masculine torso and biceps.

The world of alternative sexuality was filled with fascinating contrasts and contradictions that, on closer inspection, didn’t contradict as much as she’d expected. Everything about Billie fit who Billie was. When he’d offered to help with the grunt work, she’d liked him immediately. He could earn over five thousand dollars a night in gigs in other venues, and yet there was nothing diva-ish about this diva, even though she could call up the diva side in a moment. He, Julie corrected herself, though she expected it wouldn’t be the first time she made that stumble. She had a feeling it was fine with Billie to call him by either gender, regardless.

“Yeah, freight train is right.” Julie blew out a breath. “This is the back stretch, with a million things happening and the ‘oh-my-god is this going to work or fail miserably’ terror grip.”

Billie pursed his full burgundy lips. “I’ve heard about your rep in Boston, Philly and the Apple, honey-chile. I don’t think that’s what’s got you all spun up. Some troublesome man put a thorn in your ass, didn’t he?”

It was an apt description, but before she could indulge or shut down Billie’s fishing for gossip, Pablo came through the double doors that led to the auditorium.

Pablo was one of the few cast members Logan hadn’t seen perform himself, but Pablo was a member of a reputable South Carolina BDSM group. Logan had spoken to some of his contacts there, who indicated Pablo was a young up-and-comer in the rope scene and they didn’t have any significant flags or concerns about him other than his experience level.