Fill Me [Dungeon Masters 3] (Siren Publishing Menage Everlasting) (3 page)

“How much, Asher? How fucking much is this fucking costing me?”

Asher pushed past him and looked in the bathroom. “Chill, bro. You can’t put a price on finding a mate. We’re here to learn about our job, yes. But mostly we’re here to find us a woman. A woman who accepts shape-shifters, and BDSM, and ménages. There aren’t a lot of women like that around, so suck it up, bro, and we’ll give this our best shot.”

Elijah shook his head and dropped his ass down on the side of the Jacuzzi. Asher was right, as usual. They needed to find their mate. A woman who would accept them both. But yeah, being realistic, he was the wolf and he was therefore a bigger problem than just being a Dom, which they both were. People didn’t believe in shape-shifters. Or if they did, they thought they were evil, frightening beasts, and wanted nothing to do with them. Yeah. He was the problem. He did need to suck it up. However…

“You’re paying for all our meals. And tips. Every night, no make that every single meal, we’ll find ourselves a nice, hot chick and wine and dine her, and you’re paying for it, okay?”

“Deal.”

Asher left the bathroom and stretched out on one of the beds, so Elijah sat on the other one. He took out the conference folders they’d been given when they’d signed in downstairs and been given their conference lanyards to wear.

“So, how do you want to do this? Should we go to different workshop sessions so we can double our chances of finding our woman, or would you prefer that we stay together so we can be sure we’re both attracted to the same woman. I mean, what’s going to happen if we decide on different women?” They agreed on so many things, Elijah hadn’t seriously thought about it before. But if they wanted different women? Should they divide up and both go after the one who appealed to them? Would that double their chances of getting a mate, or just ruin their friendship and working relationship with each other?

“Hmm. Let me think. Let’s not jump to conclusions. Why don’t we each go through the program and mark what we’d choose to do ourselves, and then compare the lists. Let’s not buy trouble we might never meet.”

“Good plan.” Elijah took the pen they’d been given in their conference bag and opened the schedule. Silently he read through it all again. He’d mentally picked out some sessions he wanted to go to before they’d even decided to come. A couple of the sessions sounded like they’d have exactly the kind of information to really help the club become even more profitable and appealing to clients. He hadn’t agreed to come until he was sure it wouldn’t be a waste of time or money. It was only when Asher began talking about a mate that he’d realized so much more was possible from this convention than just success in his career.

Half an hour later they’d both discussed the program and worked out who would do what.

“You know, considering we’re so very different, it’s amazing how much we think alike. Logically, a chef and a security guard, a human and a wolf, would be expected to pick just about everything different from each other. Yet there’s only twice out of the whole conference where we plan to go to different workshops.”

“Yeah, and neither of us want to go to any session at all straight after lunch on Sunday. That’s a bit weird. They seem like good speakers, but nothing rings my bell,” said Asher.

“Yeah, well, let’s keep our options open there. Maybe by then we’ll have found Ms. Right and we can join in on whatever she planned to do,” he suggested.

He leaned back on the bed and pictured his dream woman. Asher had blond hair and his was a dirty blond, so the perfect woman for them would have black hair. Long, black hair so he could tug on it as she sucked his dick, or wrap his fist in it as he fucked her from behind. Or better yet, fucked her ass. Oh, yeah, long black hair would be ideal.

What about her body? Not stick-thin. He wanted to be able to hold her without getting bruises on himself from her sticking out bones. But not fat either. He wanted to be able to pick her up in his arms and carry her, or fuck her against a wall. After all, The Dom’s Dungeon BDSM club had an entire basement full of dungeons and he needed a woman who would be fit and strong enough for energetic play in those dungeons.

He was just about to unzip his jeans and stroke his dick, which was getting hard from all his thoughts, when Asher punched his shoulder. “We’re wasting time. Let’s go look around. The exhibition stands are already up. Maybe one of the chicks there is the one we’re looking for.”

Elijah groaned and rearranged his equipment. He pulled his lanyard out of his conference bag and hung it around his neck, which he noticed Asher had already done. He checked his room card was in his wallet, and that the wallet and cell phone were tucked in the front pockets of his jeans, and then followed Asher out of the room.

Ah, fuck. I hope we can find our mate here. I really do want to be a family.

Ryia was glad she hadn’t put her stilettos on. Her new, jewel-toned skirt was floor length so she’d decided no one would notice her comfortable sandals because they were basically hidden under the skirt. It wasn’t in colors she normally wore, but it was so pretty she hadn’t been able to resist buying it. The skirt had a creamy background, and she’d teamed it with a creamy silk shirt. But splattered over the cream background like paint splotches, were bright blobs and swirls of reds, pinks, blues, and lilacs.

The exhibition hall was huge. She’d known there’d be maybe four hundred people at the convention, and therefore the main meeting room would be big, but it’d never occurred to her that there would be so many displays by companies and organizations. That was one thing to remember for the next convention. She could hire a stall and be an exhibitor herself in the future maybe.

Meanwhile, she walked around the hall, stopping and looking at every single stand and display. She held her convention program in her hand, along with a pen, and she rated each display as to whether or not she wanted to come back and look at it in more detail, and whether there were things she could learn from it. One meant she wouldn’t be back, two meant she wanted to look at their stock, three for coming back to look at their design or technique, and four for both.

Ryia collected business cards as she looked, noting on the back of them if there were items she was interested in. One stall had scented nail polish. That was something she wanted to add to her store. Some people hated the smell of acetone. Scented nail polish was not only pretty, but also functional. Besides, she wouldn’t mind wearing it herself.

By the time she’d visited every display in the room, her feet were aching.
That’s ridiculous. I spent most of my day on my feet.
Well, it might be ridiculous but it was also true. She dropped the brochure and pen into her convention satchel, and walked outside the room to the table with water and cookies in the hallway. There were also a few chairs out here, but all were occupied. However, some people were sitting on the carpet. She was tired enough to copy them. She grabbed a bottle of a water and a cookie, mentally flipping the bird at Miles, who would never have permitted her to eat a cookie or to sit on the floor, and then settled herself against the wall next to a couple of other women roughly her age.

She crossed her legs, tucking them out of the way and making sure her beautiful new skirt wouldn’t get stomped on by passersby, and then sipped her water with enjoyment.

The woman next to her smiled and said, “Hi, I’m Phoenix. What brings you to the conference?”

“I’m Ryia. I own an adult store, Paddle My Ass. I just wanted to find out what was happening in the industry.”

“Me, too. I work for an erotic romance publisher. We’re always keen to know the latest trends.”

Just then, an incredibly handsome man with longish, floppy blond hair and bright blue eyes bent down, holding out a hand to her and to Phoenix. “Ladies, my friend has liberated some chairs from another room. Why don’t you come join us?”

“Chairs? Hell yes, my feet hurt.” Phoenix jumped up, so Ryia scrambled to her feet as well, ignoring the blond’s outstretched hand.

He guided them along the hallway to where a tall, muscular man was guarding a stack of four chairs. As they arrived, the other man separated the chair tower and set up each chair, forming a circle but right against the wall so as to be out of people’s way.

Phoenix sank into the nearest chair and kicked her shoes off, wiggling her toes. “Damn, that feels better. Thank you.”

The muscular man with very short hair was back, holding the plate of cookies. Phoenix took one, biting into it and smiling at him. But resolutely Ryia shook her head imagining what they’d think of the fat woman eating cookies.

“Please take one.” The man was smiling at her.

Ryia blushed and shook her head again. “I’ve already eaten one, thank you.”

“So have I, but don’t let that worry you. At an event like this they won’t have counted out one cookie per person,” said Phoenix.

Ryia was grateful to her for not pointing out how overweight Ryia was but she still declined to take a second cookie. Although Miles had been out of her life for four years now, it was much harder to erase the sound of his voice in her head, constantly abusing her for eating his food, when she was so fat already. At one stage, he’d even threatened to send her to hospital and have her jaw wired shut until her weight had dropped below ninety pounds. She’d lived in fear of that threat for months, and had managed to lose ten pounds by eating almost nothing at all, but her weight was still at least twenty pounds higher than it should be. And those pounds were mostly on her thighs and ass where everyone could see them. She’d also taken the time more recently to learn what her ideal weight should be, and it was a hell of lot more than ninety pounds for five foot two.

“I’m Phoenix and this is Maria. Thanks for getting the chairs for us. What part of the industry do you both work in?”

Ryia wanted to explain that her name was Ryia, not Maria, but the conversation had already moved on and the opportunity was lost.

The blond said, “I’m Asher and this is Elijah. We both work at The Dom’s Dungeon BDSM Club. We’re always interested in the latest news in our field. What about you?”

“I work for an erotic romance publisher. Have you got a business card with you? We hold a convention ourselves every few years and we’re always looking for new places to take our authors and readers.”

Elijah handed a card to Phoenix.

“And you?” Asher asked her.

“I own Paddle My Ass. It’s an adult store. Some of your people have visited it once before. But my name is Ryia, not Maria. I must have mumbled when I spoke to Phoenix.” Ryia hoped she hadn’t hurt Phoenix’s feelings. She’d been very friendly and welcoming. Ryia had so few friends or even friendly acquaintances that she’d hate to upset the woman.

But much to her relief, Phoenix didn’t complain at all and the conversation flowed fast and furious about the various exhibitors and their products. Time seemed to race by, and Ryia was startled when her cell phone beeped to remind her to go back to her room and get ready for the meet and greet that evening.

Conversation stopped and she was embarrassed as she said, “I’m sorry. It’s been lovely talking to you all, but I need to go now.”

Phoenix looked at her own phone. “Hell, where did the time go? I must rush as well. I want to wash my hair and it takes forever to dry.”

Her hair was black and very long. “Is there a hair dryer in your room?” asked Ryia.

“I always bring one. Without help, it’ll never dry.”

“Thank you for spending time with us. I hope we see you again later this evening,” said Asher.

Ryia thought likely he meant Phoenix, but she thanked them all anyway and headed for the elevators. She’d enjoyed being part of a group, talking to people about nothing in particular, relaxing and having fun. She didn’t have very many opportunities to do that. Of course, as a small business owner she talked to people all day, in person, online, and on the phone, but it wasn’t the same as sitting down and just…hanging out really.

Still, that was another nice thing. She had a lot of exhibitors to follow up and get ideas to improve her business and she had a bunch of lectures and workshops she planned to attend this weekend. Sitting and talking to a passel of strangers was just a bonus. It was all good. Now she needed to concentrate on getting ready for the meet and greet.

* * * *

Elijah and Asher were back upstairs in their room. It wouldn’t take them very long to have a shower and get ready for the evening program, but it was the only place they could talk without risking being overheard so it made good sense to return.

“Did you like Phoenix? I knew you’d want that long black hair,” Asher asked his friend.

“You know altogether too damn much.”

“Well?”

It was very early yet. Hell, they’d only been here a few hours, but Asher felt a huge weight on his shoulders, that this was their one opportunity to find a mate. That these few days were the magic turning point, and that they had to make use of every possible moment to find their woman. Besides, Phoenix was pretty and friendly. He’d liked talking to her. It was just…He forced his tense muscles to relax and waited for Elijah to speak.

“I did like Phoenix. She’s smart and funny and that hair is perfect. But did you see Ryia’s eyes? They’re violet. I mean, like really. Not blue or gray, but violet. Maybe it was a trick of the light or maybe they’re colored contact lenses, but she doesn’t seem the stuck-up sort to wear colored contact lenses to me, and I couldn’t stop looking at her eyes.”

“What about the rest of her?” asked Asher quietly.

“She’s a lot quieter and more self-controlled than Phoenix but she made sense when she spoke, and I liked her.”

“I did, too. I thought Phoenix was fun, but Ryia appealed to me even more. It’s like she’s a gift and I want to be the one to unwrap her and see what’s underneath.”

“If you’re talking about her personality, yeah, I do, too. If you’re talking about her body, she isn’t skinny, but I rather like the idea of lush hips to hold onto and generous breasts to suck.”