Friends Like These

by Tymber Dalton

  They’d even given her the out, asking her if she wanted to cancel, telling her they’d even make the call and cite a business emergency.

  Yes, she did…and she didn’t.

  She wanted to see Lucas, Leigh, and Nick-2, as she thought of him. She didn’t get to see enough of that set of friends now that that particular trio’s lives had completely exploded. In a good way, but still.

  She’d wanted to help Loren with the baby shower. Hell, Tilly had helped plan it, and it had been her idea. She wanted to be there for it.

  Even if it did apparently make her an emotional masochist.

  Another baby. No matter where she looked, it seemed their friends were popping out mini-mes left and right. Herself, Leah, Loren, Marcia, and probably Abbey were the stalwart exceptions.

  The first three of them not by choice.

  Yes, some of their other friends were still childless, but that was likely due to them either willfully choosing not to have any, or just not getting around to it yet, not because they couldn’t have them.

  Tilly stared out the window as she rested a hand on her abdomen. Six months post-op, and she had long since been cleared by her doctor to do whatever she felt like doing, although Landry and Cris were still treating her with kid gloves in many ways. The hormone therapy she was on was still being tweaked, resulting in unexpected mood swings. Daily meditation and yoga in class with June had become her new habits.

  Of all her friends, she’d only confided in Loren, Leah, June, Abbey, and Leigh about the hysterectomy. She didn’t want to explain it to others, didn’t want to gloss over the truth.

  Didn’t want to have the unspoken context blaring out over the distance between her and whoever she was talking with like neon-colored…well, neon.

  It wasn’t “just” a health issue that prompted her to finally, after more than two years of waffling and trying to avoid making the decision, and more years than that suffering the ill effects, go under the knife.

  I’m broken thanks to a fucker who abused and raped me when I was a kid and took away my trust in humans and my ability to have children.

  Loren and Leah knew what she’d been through. They’d been through a variety of it themselves. Assault. Different circumstances with the same result.

  The choice to have a baby or not had been stolen from them as a result of the ravages upon their bodies.

  She’d used a busy schedule as an excuse to not go to Venture, or to the Suncoast Society munches, or to most of the coffee times, or their Saturday night dinners at Sigalo’s.

  And she missed her friends.

  She missed her life.

  She missed the snarky, ball-busting woman she’d become over the last several years. Lately, she felt weak, whiny, and unable to deal with the world at large.

  She felt like a faker.

  Giving in once and for all to her body’s desperate pleas for medical intervention every month felt like one more failure, one more victory ceded to her step-father, who was currently rotting away in the Florida state prison system. It was either suffer worsening symptoms every month, or finally take her doctor’s advice and have the hysterectomy.

  Breaking down and sobbing in Cris and Landry’s arms the afternoon after they’d returned home from the consultation with her doctor, Tilly felt herself hit a new emotional low. Even worse than the time when Cris had left her years earlier. Worse than when her mom had died.

  Worse than the attack when she was only a teenager.

  She also loved the hell out of her men for stepping back from their M/s dynamic, for focusing on her as their partner, their love, dropping all the other stuff.

  Simply being there for her, her emotional bedrock, the foundation of her life, two solid, unwavering men whom she knew would always be there for her.

  Neither had pushed her for a return to their usual dynamic—not that they had a usual dynamic lately with the fluid way it morphed. They’d been content to be her men, her husbands, there for her and each other.

  Under the surface, she sensed their unspoken questions, their desire to ask, but their love holding them back from doing so.

  And who said a couple of Doms couldn’t learn new tricks?

  The last thing Tilly felt right now was ball-busty or dominant. Hell, she didn’t feel very sexy, and not just because of her fluctuating hormones.

  She didn’t feel very her.

  She also had no idea how to get that back. But when they got to the party, she knew what she would do—she’d put on a smile, put on her act, and wear the woman her friends knew like a comfortable coat, keeping that persona on until they left again and she could discard it.

  A trick she’d learned from her days as a pro-Domme, before Landry brought Cris back into her life.

  Fake it until I make it.

  This time, she wasn’t sure how long that’d take.

  Or if she’d have the patience to wait until it did.

  * * * *

  When they pulled up to the gate, Tilly once again marveled at the property. Tucked away in the eastern part of the county, it was perfect for this kind of party. Lots of tall fences, high hedges, and lots of privacy.

  Cris rolled down his window and punched the gate code into the keypad. They had a different access code than had been issued to the other partygoers. Since they were closer friends and had been over for dinner before, they had their own assigned code.

  Nick was standing out by the driveway when they drove up to the house, a smile on his face as he walked over to greet them.

  Cris and Nick unloaded the play equipment from the back of their SUV and started carrying it into the house. They’d brought a couple of folding spanking benches as their contribution to the evening.

  Leigh walked out, squealing in joy and throwing herself onto Tilly for a hug. Tilly didn’t miss how Landry started to step forward, as if to intercept, to protect Tilly like a piece of rare, delicate china, but Tilly shot him a stay-back warning look.

  She loved the damn sadist to death for this, for wanting to protect her, but no, she wasn’t fragile.

  Not physically, at least.

  Although the recent bout of emotional and mental fragility she’d endured lately, vulnerabilities she’d thought she was long past in her life, had shocked her.

  “I’m so glad you guys are here tonight!” Leigh said, squeezing Tilly tightly in her embrace. “I’ve missed you guys so much.”

  “Yeah, well, not our fault you went all Hollywood on us,” Tilly teased.

  Leigh smiled. “You know, if you’re out there when we are, you have a place to stay with us. Anytime. Hell, even if we’re not home, we’ll make sure to leave keys with Nick’s business manager to give to you.”

  “I’m not sure I’d be a good fit for Hollywood,” Tilly joked.

  “I wish we had more people like you out there,” Leigh said. “Real people, honest people. Friends.”

  “Come on, you’ve got to know a lot of people out there by now.”

  “Not really. People who I recognize, who know my name or I know theirs? Sure. Friends? No. Business acquaintances at best.”

  Leigh’s expression turned somber for a moment before Tilly spotted her forcing a smile back into place that didn’t fool Tilly for a minute. “Tonight is about our friends. Our real friends.”

  “Well, you know what they say.”

  Leigh’s brow furrowed. “What?”

  “With friends like these, who needs enemas?”

  Leigh giggled. “With this crowd, that’s waaay more than true in some ways.”

  * * * *

  It was so good to have Tilly and her guys there. Yes, Leigh could call or Skype or Face Time with a lot of her friends here in Florida.

  It wasn’t the same.

  It wasn’t the same as having lunch with someone who smiled at you from across the table, and you didn’t have to try to figure out if they were being genuine or just angling for an inroad or a favor or a second look at a project they were pushing. If someone fro
m Hollywood wanted to grab a bite to eat, Leigh could almost guarantee the talk would quickly be steered toward work, no matter how hard she tried to keep the subject off of it.

  Truthfully, she didn’t have much non-work topics to discuss with the people she’d met so far in LA. Oh, sure, there had to be plenty of perfectly nice and normal people out in the LA area. But she didn’t deal with them on a regular basis.

  That point had been driven home hard when Nick had hunted her down at a private party at a studio exec’s house when she’d disappeared for over twenty minutes into the kitchen. There, she’d been having a perfectly lovely chat with one of the women on the catering staff, and had even started helping load trays of canapés while they talked.

  She wasn’t old money or new money out in Hollywood. Technically, she was an A-lister’s business partner and assistant. Publicly, at least. She couldn’t even be “with” Nick out there. If she went somewhere with him without Lucas, they had to put on a professional, cool act. They couldn’t even go out to dinner alone somewhere, just the two of them, like she could with Lucas.

  But then again, those private times with Lucas were growing increasingly less private the more they pinged the radar of the entertainment industry. In the past month, she’d had five waiters and a coffee barista try to give her thumb drives with scripts on them. Printing them out was so passé now as to be laughable when the little drives were cheap.

  It unnerved her. She didn’t have the cool facade a lot of the experienced execs and assistants out there had. She didn’t like to be rude.

  Another logical reason she knew she needed an assistant, even though she didn’t want the hassle of hiring someone. It was a given that stars would blow people off. Leigh needed someone who could run interference for her. PAs were expected to shield their bosses to a certain extent. They could draw the ire of people away from the exec.

  Leigh hated confrontation with a passion. It wasn’t that she couldn’t stand up for herself, but she knew she could easily be eaten up and spat out if she didn’t carefully watch her step.

  That meant finding someone with that kind of temperament who she could actually…you know…like.

  That made a tough job even more difficult.

  Tilly dumped her stuff, including her purse, in Leigh’s bedroom and set to work figuring out what needed to be done.

  “Loren’s bringing the baby shower stuff,” Tilly said with a playful grin.

  “Am I going to regret this?”

  “Not at all. Hey, we have some great games to play tonight.”

  “Such as?”

  “Pin the nipple clamp on the baby bottle, for starters. Oh, and for an added degree of difficulty, the contestants have to use their mouths. And their partners have to hold the bottle between their thighs.”

  “Whose idea was that, yours, or Loren’s?”

  “Actually, it was Ross who came up with that gem.”

  “I should have guessed.”

  “He’s a deviously twisted fuck when it comes to kinky ideas like that, but I sure love the hell out of him. I’m blessed with the best friends in the world. Present company included.”

  Leigh smiled. “Ditto.”

  Chapter Five

  Lucas and Nick had already talked earlier about keeping an eye on Leigh tonight. They were both concerned about her. The adjustment to life in LA had been rough on her, the trips back home to Florida seemingly the only thing keeping her marginally grounded. Professionally, she was excelling at what they were doing.

  Personally, however, Lucas and Nick had still picked up on her well-hidden loneliness without their closely knit group of friends around. The increasing stress. And that wasn’t good for the baby.

  With her expecting, they wanted to do anything they could to alleviate as much of her stress as possible. Hence why they were turning up the pressure on her finding and hiring an assistant. Yes, Lucas knew they could simply hire someone for her, but he didn’t want to pull rank on her like that, Master and husband or not. He wanted her to find someone she could work with, someone she could trust.

  Someone he and Nick could trust not to betray Leigh’s trust. Well, the trust of any of the three of them.

  If she put it off too long, he’d ask Landry if he had any contacts in the LA area, outside the entertainment industry, who might be able to help them find someone to hire. He didn’t care if they knew the business or not. Hell, he and Leigh barely knew the business. Nick and Nick’s business manager, Clark, helped them navigate the shark-infested waters. Hiring someone now meant they could learn the ropes with them and preferably be around for the long haul.

  Come to think of it, Tilly looked a little…off tonight, too. And he couldn’t help but notice the way Landry and Cris seemed to constantly be checking on her, watching her.

  Note to self, need to ask them what’s up with that if I can get them alone for a few minutes later.

  He hoped everything was okay with Tilly. He knew a few months back Leigh had mentioned Tilly had a medical procedure, but she had left out the details because Tilly didn’t want people knowing or talking about it. He hoped it wasn’t something serious, and hoped that Tilly’s men’s demeanors tonight weren’t harbingers of something bad in that department.

  Mal and Kel arrived. In the back of his truck, Kel carried the portable suspension frame he used both for his photography and which he brought to private parties like this one. Lucas, Nick, Landry, and Cris helped Kel unload it, and the MMA mats he’d brought as well, and quickly got it set up on the lanai.

  “You know,” Kel said, “I wish Leah would do more suspension work. She kicked ass at that Valentine’s Day party.”

  “The problem is Seth doesn’t want to be her bottom again, if he can help it,” Landry said. “He told me he felt like he had a wedgie for a week after, and just the thought of having rope near his crotch makes his balls want to crawl up inside him for safety.”

  Nick snorted. “Yeah, I guess women do make easier bunnies, in that respect.”

  Lucas wasn’t a rope expert of the caliber of Kel or Scrye, or even Ross or Seth, but he was hoping tonight he might be able to get a little practice time in with his two slaves. He didn’t often get a chance to pick the brains of his rigger friends in person.

  “I wouldn’t find it too funny, if I were you,” Lucas playfully warned Nick. “I plan on breaking out my rope bag later.”

  Nick’s head dropped as he let out an exaggerated, resigned sigh. “Yes, Sir.”

  He reached over and ruffled Nick’s hair. “I thought you enjoyed being tied up? Not like I can beat you and leave marks on you tonight.”

  “I do like being tied up,” he said, “but the family jewels aren’t that fond of it.”

  Lucas reached over and cupped Nick’s package through the front of his shorts. “Don’t worry. You know me—I don’t like to break my toys.”

  “Yes, Sir. And for that I’m very grateful.”

  * * * *

  Loren and Ross arrived shortly after with what appeared to be a metric shit-ton—according to Tilly a perfectly valid unit of measurement—of supplies for the baby shower.

  As Lucas watched, Nick reached into one box of party favors and pulled out an adult diaper. “Um, I’m calling red on this game right now, for me, at least.”

  “Aw, spoilsport,” Loren teased. “But lucky you, they’re not for humans.”

  “Then what are they going on?” Lucas asked.

  “The blow-up dolls,” Tilly said. “Come on, you don’t honestly think we’d have a non-kinky baby shower game, do you?”

  “Well, you have to admit putting adult diapers on people is straying from the norm in terms of party games,” Nick said. “But recreational use of them among this crowd might not be so unusual.”

  Loren took the diaper from him and dropped it back into the box. “It’s a two-part game. Whoever can blow their doll up and get it diapered first wins.”

  Leigh let out a laugh. “Okay, that is funny.”

&nbs
p; “I know, right?” Tilly said. “A bunch of Doms blowing hot air, they’re so friggin competitive, they’ll be passing out left and right from hyperventilation.”

  “That sounds like nonconsensual breath play,” Nick teased.

  “Picky, picky,” Tilly shot back. “It’s funny.”

  “I do admit,” Lucas said, “watching a bunch of straight Doms giving blow jobs—so to speak—is a hysterical mental image.”

  Tilly threw up her hands. “Thank you!”

  “So what other delights did you cook up?” Lucas asked Ross. One of the boxes contained a disturbing number of pacifiers and baby bottle nipples.

  “I don’t take credit for all of them,” Ross clarified. “Tilly and Loren are the ones who did most of the work. I only made a few suggestions. We also have bobbing for nipples. I took a page from Tilly’s Halloween playbook for that one. And then there’s pacifier spitting.”

  “We figured four games was more than enough,” Tilly said. “Probably overkill, actually. We’ll start with the nipple clamps and the diapering.”

  “There’s a phrase I never thought I’d ever hear,” Lucas joked.

  * * * *

  More friends arrived. Max, Sean, and Cali, Tony and Shayla, Seth and Leah, Derrick and Marcia, and over two dozen others. Including Clarisse, Mac, and Sully, who’d had friends agree to babysit overnight for them. They were staying at a hotel a few minutes away in Venice, near the Interstate.

  As they fired up the barbecue grill and the house filled with the happy sounds of their friends chatting, Leigh wistfully tried to think of ways to transport them all to LA, to the condo they had there, and knew that was wishful thinking.

  Her friends had lives, families, jobs. And hers was definitely a first-world problem to have. It wasn’t like she could just whine about it to anyone, even to most of her friends. She didn’t want people to think she was ungrateful for the way life had ended up for her and Lucas and Nick. Yes, there was a fairly public dark moment that precipitated their meteoric rise to happiness, and she wouldn’t wish that bad—and fortunately brief—patch of time on anyone.