Worth The Wait: A Nature Of Desire Series Novel (30 page)

He didn’t say anything, just watched her, so she indulged herself fully. She brushed through the thick locks, her fingers following her strokes, working until the strands became smooth and gleaming again. As she did it, he stroked her hips, her ass, her breasts, her abdomen. His fingers slid beneath the T-shirt along her navel, exploring and learning even more about her responses. Where she was ticklish, where he could make her tremble, what he could make coil with desire.

When she pulled a band from the several she had on her wrist, her fingers were trembling, but she gathered his hair into a tail and looped the band around it twice. She had to move closer to do it and, as she did, he wrapped both arms around her. When she finished, he was holding her in a full embrace, her head on his shoulder and her arms gripping him as much as he was holding her. He brushed his jaw over her hair.

“I’m in love with you, too, Julie.”

She closed her eyes. Later today he would drop her off and go to work. She’d review Harris’s stage manager report on the opening night and address a bunch of other details necessary to handle before the next showing. She’d call Madison about some of that, and maybe give herself the post-opening reward of an afternoon nap.

All normal things, and yet he’d just said something to her no man ever had. Not and meant it the way he did.

"What?" He had his strong fingers buried in her hair, stroking her scalp, the two tendons of her neck. His touch was easy, casual, yet made her feel just as he’d reinforced, a couple times now, though she couldn’t see herself getting tired of the message. She was the center of his world, his anchor, his tether to what mattered. She also imagined he was even now deciding how he next wanted to tie her up, play with her, because they were still at that point where desire was a constant strong surf washing through all the other emotions. She lifted her head, trying to blink back the tears. She didn’t want him to think she was a constantly weepy female.

He wouldn’t let her get away with it, though. He cradled her face. “What, love?” he repeated.

She traced the dragon’s body on his biceps where it transitioned into rope. “I just thought it would be more difficult. After all this time, the heartache, the waiting, the despairing and giving up, the pure pissed-offness of dealing with near misses…" She blew out a breath. "And there it is. With you, easy as breathing. ‘I’m in love with you.’ You said it and meant it. It changes the universe, but the way throwing a stone in a pond does. All those ripples. It's…amazing.”

She frowned and cocked her head. “There should at least be dramatic music."

"I can retract it if you want. Brood for a while, play commitment paranoia games, alienate you so we break up, sort of, and then I chase you down before you make some monumental decision, like moving back to New York, or signing up for a three year stint in the merchant marines. Then we can have a big makeup scene."

She pursed her lips. "Complete with dramatic music."

"Absolutely. If I could afford it, I'd hire John Williams to come up with the score."

"You'd do all that for me?"

"Hell, no.” He snorted, puffing a short, playful breath against her. “I'd tie you up and keep you in my basement until you contracted Stockholm syndrome and couldn't breathe without me."

She tipped her head back, sobering. "Sometimes, it feels like I can't. Crazy, right?"

He put his mouth on hers and took her air in the best kind of way, all while giving it back to her.

“You don’t have a basement,” she pointed out when he lifted his head. He smiled at her, boyishly appealing, but then sobered.

"We're normal, extraordinary people,” he said. “It took us a while, but we always knew what it would look like when it happened. The simplicity of it is what makes it extraordinary. A tadpole gets legs and walks on land, and evolution begins. All in a simple blink, the whole world changes.”

Maybe his intuition and articulateness was a Dom thing. Or spending so much time by himself as a boy, something about his history she’d deduced on her own. She thought of the first time she’d seen him. His dark hair fluttering over his shoulder and his loose-hipped stride like a rock star roadie. Something in her had felt and registered all he’d just said then. At an unconscious level, but that didn’t make it less true.

God, he was going to destroy her. But maybe for the first time in her life, she’d found a man worth shattering for.

H
aving a lover again was
…well, it was a good feeling. The toe-curling, silly smiles at odd moments kind of good feeling. She told herself to settle down, slow down, but the truth was she couldn’t do it. Especially when Des seemed just as eager to be around her. Hell, she’d waited decades to find someone like him. If all his wonderfulness was a precursor to a crash and burn, she had nothing to lose by getting the most out of it now. And if he ended up being the unicorn…well, life was always too short, so the same answer applied.

He’d talked her into not leaving his house at all that day. He’d put in his half day of work and, when he returned, they spent the evening together, doing dinner, surfing TV together, talking, making love. No Dom/sub stuff this time. Just playful, enjoyable sex with lots of exploration and quiet pillow talk. When they both had to go to work the next day, he’d dropped her off at the theater and kissed her like he was going off to war. She had held onto him the same way, feeling as if some magic spell was about to be broken.

Which was why work was a very good thing, a reminder that she was a mature adult. Every mature adult knew that falling-in-love feeling was an illusion. Well, illusion wasn’t the right word. It was wonderfully real, but it required pacing oneself. Which kind of contradicted her unicorn versus crash-and-burn theory, but there could be moderation in overindulgence.

She could just imagine Des chuckling at the inconsistencies in that statement, but he’d totally get it. His mind worked as weirdly as hers did.

A few days later she didn’t feel as fond about work’s balancing properties. Tying up loose ends on the
Consent
opener, getting ready for the showings they’d scheduled the following week, staying on top of social media and other promotional outlets, and working with Harris on planning the next production, the play Madison had mentioned at the reception, took up all her time.

For Des’s part, he had several jobs to juggle, and one of them took him a couple hours outside the city limits, requiring him to stay overnight to meet a developer’s deadline.

So that going off to war kiss hadn’t been misplaced, because after only a day she missed him intensely, though they exchanged some texts. He called her one night at bedtime and, while she loved hearing his voice, she could hear how tired he was and hadn’t made him stay on the phone too long.

Her week wasn’t as physically grueling, but she worked a lot of late hours. She anticipated seeing him by the weekend, but figured they’d both need a mega-nap like a couple toddlers before attempting more adult activities. Madison, however, had a different plan.

Julie was sitting in on a script review and casting discussion with Harris and Lila, their playwright, when her phone buzzed. Glancing down and seeing Madison’s number, Julie excused herself from the table and stepped away.

“My God, I was wondering when I’d hear from you. We haven’t talked in over an hour.”

“I knew I was running late.” Madison chuckled. “Hey, want to have some fun and promote our baby? We’ve had this fancy BDSM to-do on the calendar for a while and I wasn’t sure I was going to go until Logan pointed out it’s being sponsored by five of the tri-state area BDSM groups. We could drop off some of our snazzy theater brochures at their vendor table and then enjoy the party ourselves. Logan and I can do it on our own, but I happened to mention it to Des the other day and he said if you’d like to go, he’d take you.”

“Oh really? Said it that way, did he?”

There was laughter in Madison’s voice. “Just like that. Translation: You’re not going without him. I think he’s a little taken with my theater manager. Is the feeling mutual?”

“You know the answer to that, ho. Stop picking on me or I’ll sabotage this freaking sound system that we just had the electrician rewire and still isn’t behaving the way we need it to do. I was tempted to put it through the wall twelve times since yesterday. The only thing that saved it was I didn’t pay for it.”

“Good thing I wasn’t there. I would have done it for you. Nothing frustrates me like technology gremlins. So will you go? It’s Friday.”

While a part of her longed for a hot bath and an early-to-bed scenario with Des, hearing he was interested in taking her to a party summoned energy reserves. They made her nerves tingle, and not just from excitement about going. If she and Des did this, they’d be pursuing the Dom-sub thing in a public way, even if merely as voyeurs. Those same nerves pushed her to stay in her comfort zone, but…

“Let me call Des and talk to him about it. I’ll call you right back.”

“Good deal.”

He picked up on the third ring. From the lack of background noise, she realized he wasn’t at a job site. He sounded as if he’d been asleep.

“Sorry,” she said, instantly chagrined. “Didn’t mean to wake you.”

“No worries, love. You’d enjoy my view right now. Our hotel backs up to a couple farms. You have your choice of watching cows or the wind rippling patterns through young corn stalks. A bunch of the cows have calves, playing like they haven’t a care in the world.”

“I think I hate you. I’ve been working like a dog all day.” But she brightened at her subsequent thought. “Is your job done and you’re sleeping in this morning before you head back?”

“I wish. We’ve got some more to do, but I’m getting a late start. I’ll be heading out soon.”

She hesitated. Something sounded off in his voice, but before she could pursue it, he continued. “Once we hit the summer heat, I’ll call you out to a job so you can see how I earn my lazy times.”

Today was already hinting at those temps. They’d experienced a warm front early in the week, spring temperatures climbing into the eighties. While that didn’t sound too hot for normal labor, up on a roof against asphalt shingles and black tar paper, she expected it could be more strenuous.

“All right, I retract my hatred and restore my adoration for your virile self.”

“Appreciate it. What’s up? Did Madison call you about the party?”

“She did. I understand I have an escort.”

“You do. Would you like to go? I know you’ve had a hellish schedule lately.”

“I have. But…”

“But you’d like to go.”

“I would,” she said. “With you.”

Maybe she was getting better at reading his silences, but in his pause she sensed some of the sparks of excitement she herself was experiencing. Knowing he wanted to go to the party with her heated them into flame.

“You take this step forward, I’m probably not going to want to take any more steps back, Julie.” His voice was low. “Fair warning. I’ve missed you.”

It was clear what he meant. Her whole body certainly got the message, the reaction swirling in her core. “I’ve missed you, too. I haven’t been to anything like this before. We just watch, right? We don’t have to do anything?”

“Absolutely. We play only if that’s what you want to do. If you don’t, that’s completely fine with me. I’m looking forward to getting you alone afterward.”

She wasn’t a public sex kind of girl, but she could get excited about watching others. And even more excited from the promise she heard in his voice. She imagined what could happen after they were both stimulated by a visual cornucopia of BDSM offerings. It made her wish he was here right now.

Restraint, girl
, she admonished herself. “Hey, Marcus and Thomas will be coming into town, week after next. Marcus suggested we do dinner.”

“Sounds good. Too bad they’re not coming in sooner. They could go to the party with us.”

“That’s okay. I think I’d be a little embarrassed, you know. In front of them.”

“Hmm. I bet I could get you over that hang up.” His voice had that deep purr that made her toes curl.

“I bet you could. Which is why I’m hanging up before I’m tempted to have phone sex with you. I have work to do.”

“I’m far more interested in keeping you on the line for phone sex.”

“Not in front of the cows. That’s illegal in most states.”

He chuckled, his voice still throaty, sending more tingles through her. “Besides,” she added. “I’ll bet you already had your morning treats. Milk and cookies before you laid down on your mat for your midmorning nap.”

“You can be spanked. Just saying.”

“I thought that wasn’t your thing.”

“I’m rethinking it with you and that mouth of yours.”

She grinned, happy to be teasing with him. “Go back to sleep. You’re grumpy.”

“Only because I’ve been denied phone sex. And milk and cookies.” He paused. A peculiar heat filled that significant silence and surrounded her. “I’ll see you in a couple days, love.”

“Are you all right?” she asked softly, not sure why she was asking, but there was a great deal in that stillness she wasn’t sure about.

“Better than. You’ve got my attention, love. In every way. Talk to you soon.”

When he disconnected, she tapped the phone against her lips thoughtfully. He’d sounded tired, but very pleased to talk to her. He wanted the same thing she did, to be together right now. Maybe it was best she had a million things to do. Otherwise she’d drive two hours to watch cows and corn with him. But anticipation could be a wonderful thing.

She had a meet in a few moments with the volunteer who’d served as their house manager, to go over some front-of-house improvements for the next show. Time enough to text Madison, since Harris and Lila were well on top of the cast and script discussion.

We’re going. Any dress code?

Madison’s cheerleading emoticons were infectious. Her enthusiasm only stoked those sparks that were still warming Julie’s insides.
Inside the party, naked, fetish wear, or club wear is all fine. No T-shirts and jeans. If you wear street clothes, host wants people to dress up. Sets a party mood and reinforces standards of good behavior.

Julie honestly couldn’t picture Des in slacks or a suit, and wondered if she’d be intrigued by the results. She had a sexy little black dress she could wear. Nothing out of the ordinary, but she could razzle-dazzle it up with some accessories.

Touch base with me tomorrow on the marketing end. Look forward to seeing you.

You too.
Madison’s response was accompanied by a few more cheerleading emojis. Julie pocketed the phone and went back to work. However, a part of her mind remained two hours away, thinking about a lean man stretched out on a bed in a hotel room, dozing and watching calves cavort in the sunshine.

* * *

T
he day before the event
, she was surprised to get a call directly from Logan.

“Des called and asked if I’d escort you to the party with Madison. He says the job is running behind and isn’t going to finish up until early afternoon tomorrow. He doesn’t plan to be late, but he said it makes more sense for us to meet him there, since he’s going to have to go by his place first to get changed.”

“No problem.” But she was curious. There was an interesting formality to the call, Logan calling her personally, rather than Des texting her. “I know this sounds strange, but is this an etiquette thing? A Dom calling another Dom to escort…his sub?” She tried to act as if she was talking generally, not specifically about her and Des.

Logan’s pause suggested she wasn’t altogether successful, but at least he didn’t call her on it. “There’s no official etiquette written in stone. But a Master or Mistress picks up cues from their sub and responds to them. Or intentionally sends the sub a message to add to what they’re building between each other.”

She was standing in the middle of the spacious audience area, normally quite cool when not filled with people, but that wasn’t the way it felt right now. Message received loud and clear.

“It’s so weird. I look at him sometimes and still don’t expect him to be like that. But he
so
is.”

“We all go through our learning stages before we gain confidence in power exchange and taking the reins,” Logan said. “But Des is far past that. I’ve never seen him handle a sub where I didn’t feel he was completely in control of the situation and solidly in tune with her needs. He’s a through and through Dom.”

“But no one’s Master.”

“I don’t think that’s true anymore.” Logan’s voice held amusement. Julie changed the subject fast.

“Hey, do you know what Madison will be wearing?”

“Whatever I tell her to wear,” Logan said pleasantly.

Logan’s simple statement, spoken so matter-of-factly, spiked anxiety and thrills through Julie. The reaction was so strong it was a startling reveal of what her subconscious was feeling about this party.

When Logan chuckled at her speechless pause, she narrowed her eyes.

“Okay, it’s just mean to tease the newbie sub,” she accused. “You’re as bad as Marcus.”

“But getting a sub worked up is way too tempting to a Dom. You’re an easy and very pleasurable target. Are you blushing?”

“Shut up.”

He laughed outright, which stroked the nerves up and down her spine. The man was like crack. No wonder Madison was gone over him. “Seriously, I’m sorry to tease you,” he said. “But sometimes a Dom can’t help himself. We’re sadists, after all.”