Page 29 of Dare to Love Again

“My name. Master Eric insists on using my full name. I’m not sure why.”

“He does that to me, too. No one except my mother ever called me Valerie before him. He said it’s beautiful and rolls off his tongue better.”

She blinked, surprised the bossy master dom had a romantic bone in his body. “Valerie is a beautiful name. My mother insisted on using the unabbreviated form with me, too. I thought Esmerelda sounded like an evil stepsister, or a witch, so I shortened it, which in the third grade made it easier to spell, too.”

Val smiled. “I think it’s a lovely name, and unique. You said your mother insisted, past tense.”

“She has passed, and so has my father.”

“I’m sorry,” she said, and sounded like she meant it, rather than the usual awkward response when people didn’t know what else to say. “You’re young to have suffered so much loss.”

“I was twenty-three. Fresh out of college. Andrew died two years later.”

Esme tossed back the rest of her drink and promptly closed the mental compartment that had inched open. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to get my phone from my locker and call an Uber.”

“So, you’re giving up?” She turned to find Master Eric behind her.

“I don’t think I have a choice, sir. I have exhausted your list, and my efforts were a miserable failure. Doms don’t like to hear the word no, and have long memories when they do, it seems.”

“Truer words, my friend,” Val muttered under her breath.

Master Eric’s hand curled around the back of his wife’s neck. “No one asked your opinion, little one. Not all doms are thin-skinned, as you well know. Some hear no and take it as a challenge to warm a naughty submissive’s behind.”

Esme sucked in her breath at the very dominant remark, but Val didn’t look quelled by his not-so-veiled threat. “I’m sorry, master. I’ll be good and sit here quietly.”

There was a mischievous glint in her vivid blue eyes. She adopted a suitably submissive expression before she angled her face up to her husband, however.

An arched brow revealed his skepticism. “I suppose there is a first time for everything.”

“Ouch,” she replied, putting her hand to her chest as though wounded.

Master Eric ran his knuckles along her jaw, handling her gently despite their exchange. Val, who obviously took no real offense, turned her face into his touch.

Feeling like she was intruding on an intimate moment, Esme turned on her stool and raised her glass for another sip.

“Are you serious about moving forward?”

Glancing up, she saw both of them gazing at her reflection in the floor-to-ceiling mirror behind the bar.

“Yes, sir, I really don’t want to leave.”

“I meant with a dom, little subbie.”

“I’ve given it a lot of thought. You were right about me being stuck. I’m like my old car in college. It was a four-speed, but I could never get it to go above third gear. I’d give it gas, and the engine would rev, trying hard to get up to speed, but with the flaw in the transmission it never quite got there. I had to drive in the slow lane, watching as everyone else passed me by.”

“That’s a very fitting analogy of being stalled in the grief process, Esme.” The amusement had faded from Val’s expression, replaced by kindness and understanding. “That you recognize it in yourself means you’re ready to get unstuck, perhaps with a nudge in the right direction.”

With a long, drawn-out sigh, she nodded. “I think I’m in serious need of a nudge.”

Eric’s pleasure was evident in the gleam of his perfect white teeth. Esme couldn’t help but stare because his smile changed his face from sternly handsome to breathtaking.

Val reached out and patted her hand. “I know how you feel, sister. He’s the best of both worlds. Dominant enough to stop your heart with a look then melt it with a grin. I was a goner the moment I saw him.”

Eric chuckled though only briefly because he leaned down and planted a smoldering kiss on his subbie wife’s lips. When he raised his mouth a scant half inch, he whispered, “Hold that thought, love, until I take care of our lost girl here, then I’ll see to melting more than your heart.”

“Yes, sir,” she breathed, no longer appearing either mischievous or amused but hungry, as though ready to jump his bones right there at the bar.

What was it about this place? The hotness factor of the couples was off the charts.

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