Page 28 of Various Intentions
“Awesome. Mine are he/him, as well.”
We were silent for a moment. Then Alexander turned a sharp-eyed gaze my way. “Do you mind if I ask how long the three of you have been together?”
“Not at all. Vincent and I have been together for about a year, and Matteo got pulled into the relationship about six months ago.”
He smiled. “I love to see people living their lives the way they want to and not the way society dictates they should.”
“Yes, well, I learned at a young age that if I wanted to be happy, I needed to disregard what society was telling me about myself and simply do what I wanted.”
“You are a very interesting person, Nic. You radiate a confidence and energy that is undeniable. If I didn’t already know you were a Dominant, I would know it from the distinct way you have about you.”
“Thank you…I think.” I laughed.
“It’s a compliment. I think you are fascinating.”
“Oh. Well, thanks. I’m feeling pretty fucking ordinary these days, but okay. Now that I’m guiding an eighteen-year-old through the first delicate stages of adulthood, I find myself thoroughly domesticated.”
Alexander laughed and it made his eyes crinkle at the edges. “No doubt. But you’re…lifestyle…seems far from domesticated to me.”
“So…you and Daphne, huh?” I wanted to get the focus off me.
Alexander blushed. “She’s quite something.”
I laughed. “She certainly is.” I didn’t know exactly what Daphne had told Alexander, so I didn’t expand on what I knew. But I was pleased to see him here, because whatever she had said to him about her feelings, it seemed that he might just return them. He certainly wouldn’t be here meeting us if he were only a client, and if he’d found a new Domme, he definitely wouldn’t be here hobnobbing with Daphne’s friends.
Just then, Daphne breezed into the room carrying a pile of napkins.
“Tea is served!” she announced as she placed the serviettes on the antique chest as Vincent and Matteo appeared, carrying trays with the pot of tea, an assortment of fancy teacups and milk and sugar.
“Holy fuck,” I said.
Daphne—it must have been her handiwork—had dressed Vincent in a powder blue, satin Maid’s dress, complete with short, ruffled sleeves and white apron. His long legs were encased in black stockings and the edges of the garter straps holding them up peeked out from the skirt. On his feet were platform Mary Jane shoes with a low heel.
“Good lord!” Alexander commented. “You look adorable, Vincent.”
Vincent placed the tray carefully down on the coffee table, stood and, taking the edges of the skirt in his fingers, curtsied. “Thank you, Alexander.”
He threw me the most incendiary gaze then proceeded to empty his tray, his pert behind making the skirt of the dress sway and bounce.
My mouth went dry. I reached out to touch the white ruffle at the edge. “Oh, Vincent. My, my, my…you have been keeping secrets.”
He twisted his head around to gaze at me and his blue eyes flashed mischief. “Yes, Sir.”
I shook my head, clicking my tongue. “Naughty. Very naughty.”
Vincent’s soft lips parted, and he straightened. My gaze stroked over him from head to foot. He was a vision of loveliness. I shook my head again.
A throat cleared. I tore my attention away from Vincent and regarded Matteo, who had moved close and was now holding out a small plate of cookies toward me.
“Would you like a biscuit?” he asked.
I took my time answering while I noticed that Matteo was naked except for a snug pair of blue and black striped boxer briefs and a bowtie. Although Vincent, in his French maid get-up, was the prettier of the two, Matteo matched him in pure desirability.
“Hot,” I murmured, my gaze moving up and down Matteo’s body as I took a cookie from his plate and bit into it, holding his gaze as I chewed with exaggerated care, licking the crumbs from my lip.
Matteo inclined his head and took a bow. “Thank you, Sir.”
He offered the plate of cookies to Alexander.
