Page 16 of Miles Apart
Commitment isn’t for me, end of story. I don’t have any desire to attach myself to anyone, and I’m not sure I’m capable of giving the love required to do it.
“You’re alright with pep talks when you’re not being an ass,” he teases.
Pfft. “I got range.” We laugh. “Jokes aside, keep your head up.”
Terrence nods. “Thanks.”
I slap my knees and stand. T and I are brothers, but we can only share so many feelings. Guys where we come from weren’t setting examples to follow, so we didn’t.
“I’ll get at you tomorrow.”
“Where you off to?” Terrence lifts off the barstool to dap up.
“To do what I do best.” I smile. “Me.”
I check in with the host once I arrive at Ravenous, recommit to the consent policy, and take a cloak to cover my black slacks and tee. Tonight’s guests crowd around the main stage, where an education on ropes takes place next to performers cascading down poles stationed between silk panels. I follow signs for the meeting rooms and stop in front of a room illuminated in red with matching fabric on the wall. The play space is emptyexcept for wooden crosses on either side of a table where open briefcases filled with leather whips and other accessories lie. My eyes land on a leather chair with stirrups similar to an examination table but with—are those restraints?
What kind of freaky shit goes on in here?
Play parties aren’t a personal kink of mine, but if it’s your ministry, it’s your ministry. I keep sex to the privacy of my meeting place of choice. No one is in here, so it will do. Maybe Em will test drive this chair since she’s on her bullshit.
“You’re late,” I say once she shows. Twenty minutes late.
“You waited.” Emma stands taller in heels that put her below my chin. She drops her purse with a green tag next to the chair. “Come play.” Yeah, she’s on that bullshit, alright.
I drag my tongue over my bottom lip before I pull it between my teeth. Then I close the distance between us until my black loafers touch the tips of her pumps. Her moss-green eyes light with a glow. She knows she’ll pay for her lateness. I let my gaze drag down her cloak. “Careful, kitten.”
My mellow baritone seeps to the edge of my control, and the lines of my face harden as I stare down at Emma. I’m all but breathing fire after warning her not to play in my face. She better think twice about pissing me off.
“What’s in the bag?” I nod to her purse without breaking eye contact.
She widens her stance and crosses her arms to extinguish the heat rising between us. We’re not wearing masks anymore, which gives me a full view of her smooth amber skin over a kissable jaw. “Toys.”
“Get in the chair,” I growl. I got a game her ass can play since she wants to so bad.
Emma settles into the leather pressing firmly at her back and parts her knees to rest against the stirrups. Her fingers curl around the edges of the black satin ties that hold hercloak together and tug. Emma’s eyes darken under the scarlet shimmer of the playroom as I take in the lingerie she wore for the evening. Black lace weaves with satin in a makeshift collar from her neck to her sternum, arching over the thin fabric that covers each breast. A barely visible lace garter belt clips to French thigh-high stockings in black.
Fuck.
Her legs open, dragging the cloak with it. My inhale is sharp, unable to control the yearning to devour every inch. I step forward to touch her but hesitate.
“You okay with my hands on you?” My swallow is audible over the seductive music piping through the ceiling.
Please say yes.
Minutes ago, I was ready to test the limits of Emma’s submission for her being late. Yet one look under this fabric, and I’m singing a different tune.
Emma’s arms reach back for the headrest. She swings her knees open. “Of course,” she says with an evil smile.
“You’re okay with me using toys?”
She closes her eyes and tips up her chin. “Yes.” Emma frowns when I step away.
“Keep your eyes closed,” I command from a distance. I’m back in front of her seconds later, rubbing a thumb over the top of her thigh. My voice drops to a whisper. “Tell me if it’s too much. What’s your safe word?”
The edges of Emma’s mouth lift at my underestimation of her pussy’s stamina. “Vanilla, but I won’t need it. There’s nothing in that bag I haven’t—” The words die on her lips when I set said pussy on fire. Em’s eyes grow two sizes at the riding crop in my hand and the devilish grin on my face.
I tap the leather tongue over her mound. “You were saying?”
