by KB Alan
“Makes sense.”
Clearly startled by his agreement, she stared at him.
“It’s smart to be wary. Last time you did everything right—research, open communication with the top, best friend at your side—and you still got hurt.”
“Right.” She bit her lip. “I guess I just have to decide if the potential goal is worth the possible pain.”
“Part of the calculation could include that this time, you have a couple of sources of information and support, with more experience than you had last time. I think I know Sonya well enough to be sure that she wouldn’t mind talking to you about any questions you might have. Alec, too, if you were comfortable with that. And I’ll remind you that I consider myself a mentor in the scene, so in addition to being your friend, I’m happy to be one of your trusted resources.”
Deciding to let her think on that for a few minutes, he pushed his chair back and grabbed both of their empty plates. “This was delicious, thank you for sharing.”
She blinked, and stood to follow him into the kitchen. He rinsed and swiped the plates and she put them into the washer.
“You know, you’ve fed me dinner and lunch now. Only fair for me to return the favor. How about we go out to eat tonight? There’s that Lebanese restaurant not far from here. We can walk over. It will be relatively cool by the time we walk back.”
“Oh. That would be nice. I suppose having lasagna three meals in a row would be a bad idea. Maybe I’ll freeze the rest.”
He grinned. “Good idea. I’ll be back around six.” He planted a kiss on her cheek and was out the door before she had a chance to change her mind.
Natalie wanted to talk to her best friend, but she wasn’t sure what she wanted to say. They normally talked every day or two, and she’d sent a couple texts—pictures of Missy P, of the lasagna—but how could she explain that ninety percent of her thoughts since Friday night had been about sex? Kinky sex? Especially without pulling Alec, Sonya and Noah into the conversation?
In the years they’d been friends, they had, of course, discussed boyfriends and sex. But Natalie hadn’t ever felt she was lying, even by omission, because she’d put kinky thoughts out of her head and insisted to herself that she needed vanilla. So that’s what their conversations had been about.
She hated that there was something that felt so heavy in her head, she couldn’t share it with Annalise, at least not yet. She still needed to wrap her head around it a bit. If it was something she was going to push aside and go back to ignoring, then it wouldn’t matter. But that was getting increasingly difficult to imagine.
It wasn’t that she was suddenly obsessed with sex or anything. Or at least, not exactly. But as she listened to the audiobook she’d downloaded, it got harder and harder to pretend that something hadn’t been lacking in her romantic life these last several years.
Aside from all that, the fact that she and Noah were going to dinner was absolutely the kind of thing she would normally be talking to her best friend about. Even though it wasn’t a date. At least, she was pretty sure it wasn’t a date. She just had no idea what it actually was.
She had told Annalise that Noah had come by the house, and she’d given him one of her steaks. She’d just left out the part where she’d spent a great deal of their time talking about her past and crying in his arms. Luckily, they’d talked all through dinner before he’d asked her to share her story, so there’d been plenty to babble about to Annalise without going there.
Actually, now that she thought about it, she was kind of surprised Annalise hadn’t pushed, or suggested, that Natalie try and go after Noah. That exchange had been before Noah had shown up this afternoon, and made plans for dinner, so not mentioning it wasn’t weird. Yet. But she was going to have to figure her shit out. Soon.
She fed Missy P and gave her a nice long petting session before going to change. Crap. She should have gone home to get more clothes. The restaurant he’d mentioned was nice, so she couldn’t wear shorts. The dark blue, wide-leg capri pants she’d worn to work on Friday would have to do. Luckily, one of her other tops would go nicely with it, so she wasn’t actually wearing the outfit he’d already seen him in.
Makeup was the next debate. Since this wasn’t a date, she didn’t want to go full out. She did light mascara and a lip gloss, and a quick swipe of neutral shadow.
He knocked on the door as she was considering carrying a purse. The pants had a button pocket on the back, so she slid her driver’s license and credit card in there, secured it, grabbed her sunglasses and keys and opened the door.
How had she already forgotten how handsome he was? He’d looked so good, so in his element, in the backyard working with the plant that afternoon. Now he wore chinos and a short-sleeve, button-down top that seemed to have…she looked closer…tiny little bowler hats all over it.
“Hello again,” he said. “You look lovely.”
“Thanks, you clean up quite well. I like your shirt.”
“I like your sandals.”
She looked down at her shoes. The sandals were the kind that laced up and wrapped around her ankles several times. Kind of bondage like. She could only shake her head and laugh.
It was a pleasant walk to the restaurant, not as warm as Saturday had been, with a light breeze. It meant a lot of people were out and about, which she loved to see.
She adored Boston. Not that she hadn’t liked Atlanta, but growing up there made it different. She’d chosen Boston. Well, okay, she’d chosen the job, but there were a lot of places she could transfer to if she wanted. She probably should, if she wanted to buy a house. But she really liked her city.
“Have you always lived here?” she asked Noah.
“No, I moved here when I was twenty-one. From Oregon. I love it, though, and this is one of my favorite neighborhoods.”
They chatted their way to the restaurant, where they had a fifteen-minute wait to be seated. Natalie grabbed a menu, getting hungrier as they looked at the delicious options. Once they were seated, they ordered feta fritters and a dip assortment while they figured out their main meals.
The appetizers came quickly, and were extremely tasty. He grinned at the way she moaned around the first fritter, but she couldn’t help herself, it was damn good.
“How did you get into the nursery business?” she asked him, hoping to focus his attention on something else.
He snorted. “Mostly because I really hate screwing up.”
“Something we have in common, then, although I suppose it’s true of most people.”
He nodded. “When I was twelve, my dad gave me the job of mowing the lawn. He told me that if I wanted to, he would let me use the mower to offer my services to the neighbors, and he would front the cost of gas for a month, and I could keep all the profits.” He took a pull on his drink. “My dad is a financial advisor,” he added, his eyes twinkling. “Now retired and living in Arizona.”
She laughed. “I love it.”
“My allowance at the time was only five dollars a week, and I’d just developed a budding comic book obsession and a love for seeing movies at the theater, so it seemed like a great idea, and I took him up on it.”
“Nice. Sounds good so far.”
“I was able to get two houses to commit to my doing their lawns twice a month, and one who said they’d give me a call whenever they needed me. That went on for about six months. Then I added a new customer and she said she’d pay me an extra ten dollars if I would also weed her flower bed. Of course, I said sure.”
“Uh oh.”
“Yeah, I had no idea what I was doing. Don’t know why she thought I would, to be honest. She was furious when she saw what I’d ripped out.”
“And you decided you wouldn’t be making a weeding mistake again.”
“Yep. Hopped online and went down the gardening rabbit hole. I bought some replacement plants for her and put them in, researched how to take care of them, and told her no charge until the next season.”
“And a p
assion was born.”
“I enjoy the art of it, and the science of it.”
She nodded. “Okay, I can see that. That’s a pretty cool way to think of it, really. But you didn’t go into landscaping.”
“I found I like this side of things much better. Helping people make what they like grow, bringing their visions to life, yes. Designing for them, not so much.”
His farro and her chicken arrived, and they both declared them winners, and shared a bit from each dish.
She was comfortable enough to ask a question that had been gnawing at her. “So, now I’m curious, and you can absolutely tell me it’s not up for discussion. I’m wondering how you got started with…” She looked around. The restaurant was crowded, but conversation were loud and no one was paying them the least bit of attention. “BDSM.”
He smiled that grin that caused the corners of his eyes to wrinkle and made her a little melty inside. “You said it again.”
The approval in his voice was even better than the smile.
“I don’t mind. At the first nursery I worked at, while I was in college, one of the women was amazing. I couldn’t figure out why I was drawn to her, but not interested in her. We became friends, and one night she asked me if I’d ever done anything kinky.”
He passed another bite of his food over to her without pausing.
“Of course, I immediately assumed she was hitting on me, and tried to let her down gently. She just laughed me off and explained that she wasn’t interested in me that way. She said she’d wondered if I was like her. A dominant.”
“Oh, wow, that must have been an eye-opening conversation.”
“It was. She was great. We’re still friends, but she fell in love with a man and woman in New York, and moved out there to be with them.”
“But in the meantime, you’d learned some stuff about yourself.”
“Yes, we had a lot of talks, and I read some books, watched some movies, jumped online. It was great having her to point me toward the better sources, and the clubs she’d already vetted.”
“What was your first experience like?”
“Gilda introduced me to a friend of hers, an experienced sub, who let me top her a few times. She was great, too. And then I let another Dom do a couple of scenes with me, so I would know what it was like from the other side. Gilda offered to do it, but I thought it would be more beneficial to have a man top me.”
She knew her eyes had grown big on that last part, and even though she felt naive, she couldn’t suppress her shock.
He laughed at her, gently. “What, you don’t think I could handle it?”
A giggle escaped her. “It’s not even just you, I’m having a hard time imagining anyone who wants to be a Dom, who has that mindset, being willing to submit.”
“It’s not that unusual. A good Dom absolutely knows that the submissive is in charge the whole time. Their willingness to hand over the reins, for as long as they choose, is what makes the whole dynamic work. Their strength in submitting is kind of awe-inspiring to us.”
She had to blink at that. Honestly, maybe it was self-centered of her, but she hadn’t spent a lot of time thinking about it from the other side. No, that wasn’t true; in the books she read, there were certainly scenes from the Doms’ perspectives, and some of them had been similar to what Noah was saying, but she’d never pulled that idea into reality, and wondered if that was how any Dom she’d met felt.
“What was David like, before he screwed up so badly?” Noah asked, mirroring her thoughts.
She thought back. “He was…instructional. Like I said, we had a lot of conversations about limits and negotiations. But he was…” She pursed her lips, trying to settle on the right word. “Arrogant. Which I thought was a good thing at the time, but looking back, I’m not impressed.”
“Confidence is a good thing. Arrogance is a little more questionable.”
“Like the confidence to let another man top you, when you aren’t submissive.”
“Like that. Confidence in a sub is attractive, but it has a different vibe to it.”
She nodded, but slowly. She was going to have to give that some thought. All of this. Speaking of which. “I went through the list of kink-friendly therapists, and I’m going to call one on Monday.”
“Well done, I’m proud of you.”
Chapter Six
As Noah watched Natalie finish off her meal, he had to caution himself. She wasn’t his sub. She wasn’t his girlfriend. She was his friend, and he’d offered himself to her as a trusted source. A mentor. Taking that away just because he liked the way she looked, the way she acted, the way she responded to him, wasn’t cool.
Besides, the last few years, he had only played with experienced partners. Natalie didn’t even know if she wanted to be in the lifestyle, though he was pretty sure she wasn’t going to just walk away. There was too much curiosity and yearning in her voice when she spoke about it.
She needed a safe way to explore the idea, and come to terms with either putting it firmly in her past or making it part of her future. The smart thing would probably be to help her find someone trustworthy to do that exploration with. Then, if she decided to continue, and if she was interested, they could consider sceneing together.
But…that just didn’t feel right.
“How much thought have you given to playing? Or not?” he asked. “Or are you waiting to hash it out with the therapist, and putting it out of your mind for now?”
She blew out a breath. “A lot of thought. When I’m not listening to my books and getting horny.”
He laughed. “I may have to give these books a try.”
“I think you’d be pleasantly surprised how engaging they can be.”
He waggled his eyebrows, and she laughed.
“I think it’s one of those things that once it’s in your mind, it’s hard to just walk away without giving it a try. Part of me is convinced that if I try it now, as a more confident, sexually aware adult, that I’ll think it’s kind of fun, but not really be interested in the whole lifestyle thing.” She started to lift her water glass, then froze. “I’m sorry, was that rude? I don’t mean to be insulting to anyone who does want it.”
“No. I promise, you can talk about these things with me without me getting defensive and upset.”
“Right. Sorry.” She shook her head and laughed. “Anyway, that’s where I’m at now. Wondering if it’s kind of like when I was absolutely convinced that I needed an Apple Watch. That this one thing would transform my life. It would tell me when to get up and when to drink water and when my appointments were coming, remind me all the things my phone was reminding me, but I would actually use them more because it was right there on my wrist. I don’t even remember all the things I was sure would change with my life.” She sighed.
“I can’t help but notice that you aren’t wearing a watch of any kind.”
“Yeah. I loved it for like six months. Then I would wear it without using it as hardly anything more than a watch for six months. Then I got annoyed with the whole charging aspect, and just…forgot to wear it most days. Then I forgot about it entirely.”
“New toy syndrome. You think submitting will be like that? A phase?”
“Kind of. Like, part of me hopes it will magically fix my lackluster dating life, my so-so sex life, bring renewed energy and spirit to my everyday life, blah, blah, blah, and part of me knows that’s not really how it works.”
“Ah, I see. And I agree to a certain extent. But, if you’ve been forcing yourself into a certain kind of dating life, into looking for a certain kind of partner, when really you need something else entirely, then finding that something else can be transformative.”
“True. But it’s a little more investment to try it out than buying a fancy piece of electronics.”
She had a point, and it got him thinking. “You need a relatively relaxed, no-commitment, no-strings test.”
Frowning, she nodded.
“I have a friend wit
h a cabin about an hour from here. If you want, if you think you can trust me for this, we can go to the cabin and spend the weekend in D/s mode. Try different things, explore what works for you and what doesn’t. And if you decide this isn’t your future, then at least you’ll know.”
She bit her lip. The waiter chose that moment to bring the bill, and Noah took it from him. Natalie reached into her pocket, but he shook his head.
“My invitation. My treat.”
“Thank you.”
The waiter quickly returned and they began the walk back to Alec’s house. He kept quiet, letting her think as much as she needed. If she started another conversation, he’d let it go. For now.
“It’s a very generous, and tempting, offer,” she finally said.
“But?”
“No but. I think I’d like to take you up on it. And appreciate you offering. I’m trying to figure out how to warn you that I might not be very good at any of the things you’d want to do, without making you mad.”
He stopped, and she walked another step before turning back to him. The sidewalk was still busy. The sun was setting and the golden-hour light wrapped her in a warm glow. He wanted to ease his hand to the nape of her neck, hold her steady, and kiss her gently. But that wasn’t what he was trying to offer her, so he resisted.
“Smart thinking,” he told her. “If you agree to this, do you know what your job will be?”
“Um. Trust you to try different things to see what does, or doesn’t, work for me?”
He pulled her to a stone wall that surrounded someone’s yard. It was hip height, so they sat down.
“We’ll use the limits sheet from the club, like you did before. We’ll talk about all of it. That will be before we go. But once we’re there, your only job will be to stop me if I do something that makes you uncomfortable or that you don’t like. Beyond that, you leave it to me.”
She frowned.
“It will be one hundred percent my job to make sure things are good. Not yours.”
Now her nose wrinkled. “I don’t think you can just decide I’ll be good at a blow job, for example.”
