United

by Karen Nappa

  On her right, Connor stood behind Suzie, who looked perfect in the dress Tante Wilma had made. A blonde woman with perfect posture and an alert gaze joined them, and Yvonne couldn’t help admiring her. Yvonne wished she had her self-confidence and appearance.

  “Hi, Suzie, Connor, congratulations on the reopening.” Connor let Suzie go and took the plant the blonde woman offered him.

  The women greeted each other warmly, and Yvonne went on with her work. She was here to serve and not to gawk at the attendees. Yvonne dipped and weaved through the mass of people, holding out the tray, smiling and accepting compliments. The atmosphere was relaxed, and the people seemed to be enjoying themselves. She halted at a handsome couple, something in the woman’s features seemed familiar, but she couldn’t know her. Yvonne’s gaze landed on the woman’s silver necklace. Something about it made her want to see their interaction. She studied the couple carefully. The man was good looking and muscular, but the keen way his deep brown eyes only briefly left his partner had attracted Yvonne’s attention. He noticed Yvonne, and their eyes met. His gaze had the impact of a Mack truck and she sucked in a breath. With resolve, Yvonne held the connection for a moment and lowered her eyes instinctively as she would have acknowledged a Dom in a club. She held the tray out in front of her, “Can I offer you something to eat, sir?”

  She was aware of his gaze on her before he spoke, “Thank you.” He was silent for a moment as his attention turned to the food. “Oh, these look good.”

  Yvonne watched as he selected a small egg roll, but instead of eating it, he held it to the woman’s lips. She parted her lips and took the food from his fingers in a move showing she’d done it countless times. Mesmerized and unable to move, Yvonne stared, even after he’d chosen another one and eaten it himself.

  Yvonne jerked as the man addressed her again, “Thank you, that was very good. You may go now.”

  Yvonne pulled herself together as she obeyed his order. She could swear they were a D/s couple, and Yvonne had no trouble guessing who the dominant partner in their relationship was. The necklace reminded Yvonne of a day collar, and his actions spoke volumes.

  Yvonne continued her rounds, and her tray was almost empty when she came face to face with a blond man with bright blue eyes. Maybe a bit older than she, but like the man from the couple he radiated dominance. Could she have stumbled onto a BDSM community? What were the odds?

  Dumbfounded, she held the tray in front of him, but he didn’t seem to notice. She followed his gaze. He watched Sonja and the confident blonde woman Yvonne had admired before.

  When standing in front of him in silence became awkward, she cleared her throat. “Would you like something to eat, sir?”

  He looked at her before turning his attention to the food. “No, thank you.” He shook his head, and he looked back at the two women on the other side of the café.

  Yvonne did the same. Their animated conversation had Yvonne curious which one caught his attention. Both were confident forty-somethings, but there the comparison ended. Sonja stood about one meter sixty, and the blonde must be at least Yvonne’s height, close to one eighty. Sonja had chocolate brown skin and sultry brown eyes. Yvonne couldn’t see the exact color, but the other woman had light eyes.

  Sonja threw her head back and laughed before she squeezed the blonde’s hand and whispered something in her ear. Sonja turned toward an older couple, and Yvonne gasped as the man said, “Excuse me,” and shouldered past her toward the blonde woman. Well, that answers one question.

  Yvonne looked at the almost empty tray and started collecting used dishes. The possessive way the man had looked at the beautiful woman had Yvonne’s chest constricting. She had broken off with Mark a little over two months ago, and she missed him. She didn’t regret ending their relationship. Mark’s sadistic streak had aligned with her masochistic tendencies wonderfully, but he hadn’t wanted a sexual relationship, and Yvonne liked sex and the intimacy it brought. Distracted by her thoughts, Yvonne didn’t notice when the woman on her left took a step back and bumped into her. Yvonne lost her footing for a moment, and although she managed to stay upright, the dishes she carried went flying. She watched in horror as the tray tipped and the plates and cups slid to the floor in what seemed like slow motion. The sound of crashing dishes silenced the entire café, and everyone looked her way. She wished for a hole to swallow her, and tears gathered in her eyes as the crowd applauded. Why did people do that? The biggest man she had seen all night – and who looked like her favorite actor Chris Hemsworth – marched up to her.

  Instead of reprimanding Yvonne as she feared for a moment, he spoke kindly to her, “It can happen to anyone, sweetie.”

  She looked at her feet, and she couldn’t keep her bottom lip from quivering. He placed a gentle finger under her chin and tipped her head back. Yvonne took her first close look at him and almost forgot to inhale. Chiseled clean shaven jaw, generous mouth with the bottom lip fuller than his top, but what had her mesmerized where his kind, blue-green eyes.

  “What’s your name?” He wiped away a tear from her left cheek and gave her a reassuring wink.

  “Y … Yvonne.” He had her so tongue-tied her name came out on a stutter.

  “Get a broom and dustpan, Yvonne,” the big blond man directed. “I’ll start cleaning up here.”

  As Yvonne followed his instructions, she secretly hoped this Chris Hemsworth look-a-like would want to stick around a bit and talk with her. Yvonne had had a crush on the actor since Mark had taken her to see him in a movie about the Afghanistan war. When Yvonne returned, she reminded herself not to drool – niet kwijlen, Yvonne – over the eye candy, she had embarrassed herself enough for one day. Meanwhile, the man had collected the biggest pieces and dumped them on the tray.

  His face softened. “I’m Chris Smith, by the way.”

  Serious? He had to be kidding her, no way was he also called Chris!

  He held out his hand and they shook. “Nice to meet you. Let’s get this mess out of the way.” Chris held her hand a bit longer than necessary before Roger broke the spell.

  “Need help with that?”

  Yvonne looked at her coworker, and her face, neck, and ears burned with renewed intensity. She discretely pulled her hand from the warm strong one, and thanked Chris. Without daring to glance Chris’ way, she followed Roger, who carried off the tray. She didn’t notice how Chris rose to his full height and studied her retreating form.

  Monday evening, Chris looked around Bob’s domain. Why had Bob insisted on meeting here? Chris eyed the desk, which reminded him of being called into the principal’s office, but Bob gestured to two comfortable chairs below a big window. Something about the room made his stomach clench and his mouth dry. When he had left the party without even trying to hook up with the lovely Yvonne, Chris had texted Bob. He needed to sort out his feelings.

  Usually he would have flirted more with an attractive woman. What was wrong with him? No matter who he was with, Kate was there, too. Pity she didn’t allow him to tie her down – It’d be a great way to stop her from avoiding him.

  “Let’s get a couple of things straight right away,” Bob leaned forward with his elbows braced on his knees when Chris had taken his seat. “I am not taking you on as a client. You don’t have the type of problems I deal with and I don’t think you need therapy. We’re just talking here because it’s convenient and private. I will not charge you anything. Are we clear?”

  “Yes, sir.” Chris gave a mock salute. “I don’t really think I want therapy even if I might need it. I need to talk to someone about Kate. How do I get her to listen to me? I’m crazy for her, and since that night, she barely acknowledges my existence.”

  “James is your best friend. Why not talk to him?” The unexpected question threw Chris off balance.

  “I … I guess I never thought about it. You were around when we had our ‘discussion.’ I’d have to go back and explain everything that happened to James. He’s always busy with Laura and Josh t
hese days. People change when they get married. It also seems more natural to talk to you because you’re a switch.”

  “Fair enough,” Bob agreed. “I just want to make sure we’re on the same page.”

  “You told me at the club that I'm not one hundred percent dominant and that I gave the lead to James. I think you're right, but I still don't get it.”

  “Which part?” Bob leaned back and settled more comfortably in his chair, signaling he wasn’t going anywhere soon.

  Chris let out a frustrated puff of air. “How do you do it? How do you go from being dominant to submissive?” He made a helpless gesture in the air.

  Bob rested his right ankle on his left knee. “There’s not one way for it to happen. You need to discover how it works for you.” Bob settled both hands on his bent leg. “Would it help you if we did a scene?”

  Chris blinked. “I don’t play with men like that.”

  “I know.” Bob leaned further forward. “But it might help you with sorting out your feelings around submitting.”

  Chris pressed his lips together and his mind whirled.

  Bob is a great guy, but submitting to him?

  But I want to know –

  No – I need to know!

  The only sound in the room was the ticking of the clock and the faint sounds of traffic outside.

  Club Indigo was quiet late on Friday night and the few attendees gathered in the main room socializing. Bob and Chris had gone upstairs. Chris let his gaze wander over the equipment in the medical room. A prickling at the base of his scalp signaled his unease and he stomped down the feeling.

  Don’t be ridiculous. This is Bob. It’s just a scene, no sex and you trust him.

  “Are you sure you want this?” Bob studied him with his arms crossed over his chest.

  Chris nodded, more for his own benefit than to convince Bob. “Yes, I am.”

  Bob raised an eyebrow. Shorter and with fewer muscles than Chris, Bob nevertheless oozed dominance in his expression and stance.

  “Yes, Sir,” he amended as he stood straighter.

  “Good.” Bob walked in a circle around him. Unlike his night with Kate, submitting to Bob felt awkward and strange. Chris’ fingers flexed and his Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed for what seemed like the tenth time in the last ten seconds.

  “How are you feeling?” Bob looked him in the eye.

  Another swallow. “Good, excited, and a little bit nervous, Sir,”

  “Do you remember your safewords?”

  “Yes, Sir. ‘Yellow’ to slow down and talk and ‘Red’ to end it all,”

  They had discussed limits – no sex and mild BDSM – and decided to use the club safewords.

  “Take off your shirt,” Bob ordered.

  Chris obeyed quickly, grabbing the back of his shirt and pulling it over his head.

  Bob walked around him again.

  “So, today, I’m going to use my hand and a flogger for impact play only. I may tie you. Underwear stays on. No touching genitals and no penetration.” Bob reiterated the boundaries they had negotiated earlier. “I’ll ask you about consent and comfort level throughout. I want you to use a one to ten scale. One indicates you’re comfortable. When you reach six or seven, I expect you to use ‘Yellow’ and ten would mean ‘Red.’”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “Take off your jeans, socks, and shoes.” Chris did as ordered and handed his clothing to Bob, who put it on a chair in the corner of the room.

  Dressed only in black boxer-briefs, he waited in the same spot for Bob to return.

  Bob stood in front of Chris and looked him over with enjoyment evident in his eyes. A pleasant warmth spread through Chris’ body at Bob’s open appreciation. Anticipation had replaced his earlier wariness. He wasn’t aroused, but he wasn’t nervous anymore, either.

  “Where are we on the scale?”

  “One, Sir.” Chris didn’t hesitate.

  “Let’s move on,” Bob placed his hand on his hips and widened his stance. “Turn around and present your ass to me.”

  Chris turned, and Bob pushed him forward to the medical table.

  “Grab the edge, and don’t let go.”

  Chris bent at the waist and grabbed the table.

  “Legs wider.”

  Chris obeyed Bob’s command.

  “Number?”

  “Two, Sir.”

  “Arch your back and push out your ass.” Bob gave his buttocks a few quick swats. It was disconcerting to submit to Bob, and if Chris was honest with himself, he didn’t like it. The one time with Kate, he had enjoyed giving himself to her and he had been hard as day-old concrete. Tonight his dick lay flaccid with no signs of stirring, and he didn’t get any pleasure from obeying Bob’s orders.

  “Yellow.” The word fell from his lips before he consciously decided to safeword, and Bob squatted beside him.

  “I’m not feeling it,” Chris admitted even before Bob could inquire.

  “Okay,” Bob conceded. “Do you want to change something and keep going or end things and discuss?”

  Chris pushed himself away from the table. “I think I’d like to stop.”

  “It’s your scene. Put on your clothes while I clean the equipment.”

  Less than five minutes later, they were downstairs with fresh beers in their hands.

  “Do you want to stay at the bar, or shall we move to the barrels?” Bob indicated the old barrels, converted into high tables, and surrounded with barstools.

  “Let’s sit there,” Chris agreed and headed for the table near the end wall. Both men sat, and Bob broke the silence. “What happened?”

  “I don’t know, but I wasn’t into it,” Chris answered truthfully. “Maybe submitting isn’t for me after all?”

  “Let’s not jump to conclusions. Submitting to me might not be your thing, but you liked it with Kate.”

  Chris scrubbed the back of his head. “Yes, I did.”

  “So, what was different?”

  Chris shrugged. “You’re not Kate.”

  Bob laughed out loud, and Chris grinned. Stating the obvious, always one of my strong suits!

  “I wasn’t having fun and I wasn’t aroused. I just wasn’t into it.” Chris did his best to explain what had been going through his mind upstairs.

  Bob nodded. “Did you trust me?”

  “Yes, I did.” Chris didn’t hesitate.

  “So, apparently, you need more than trust to submit,” Bob stated. “Could it be you need to be sexually involved to enjoy it?”

  Chris made a thoughtful sound and rubbed his chin, his fingers rasping over the beard stubble. He’d forgotten to shave before coming to the club. “Could be. I guess I need to think things through some more. Thanks for the scene and the talk. I appreciate the help, although I think I have more questions than answers. Is that the way therapy works?”

  “Frequently.” Bob picked invisible lint from his sleeve. “If I’ve helped you think about your issues in new ways, then this has been worthwhile.”

  Both men fell silent. In the back of his mind Chris realized Bob was content to let him ponder. With no need for small talk, Chris let his thoughts wander to Kate and what it had been like to submit to her. Meanwhile club life continued around them, the music switching from a pounding techno beat to the seductive sounds of Enigma. He didn’t notice when Bob went to get them another beer or how Mitch took one of the newer Doms through the paces of some intricate bondage.

  Chapter Three

  Present-day

  Yvonne stood in the elevator at the Kansas City Police Department headquarters building. It seemed like her insides were vibrating, and her stomach was in knots. How can I be anxious and exhilarated at the same time?

  She stole a glance at Suzie and the gorgeous wedding cake they had made and mentally went back three days ago.

  “Yvonne, I have Suzie Kaspar on the phone for you.” Tante Wilma held out the portable phone.

  Yvonne rubbed her hands dry on the top of her blue jeans. “H
i, Suzie. How much do I owe you for the dishes?”

  “What?” Suzie’s voice rose at the end of the word. “No. We told you we didn’t expect you to pay for those. Broken dishes are part of running a restaurant.”

  Yes, you said so after the party, and when I tried to refuse the pay, you insisted I take it. “Hmm, okay. So, why are you calling, then?”

  “Friends of ours are having an impromptu wedding. Sonja and I are giving them a big wedding cake, but we’re short-staffed again. Could you help?”

  “Umm, probably I can. I need to check with Tante Wilma. What do you need done and when do you need me?”

  Turned out Suzie needed help with making and delivering the cake. Yvonne enjoyed the preparations. But what had been the icing on the cake hadn’t been icing at all – but the top decoration.

  When Suzie had produced them, Yvonne had sucked in a breath. “Cuffs?” Yvonne blurted.

  Suzie’s face colored red. “Yes, Paula and Jim are — umm, they’re police detectives.”

  Yvonne crossed her arms as she connected all the puzzle pieces. “If that’s the reason, then why are you blushing?”

  “It’s … it’s hot in here,” Suzie tried, but she didn’t sound convinced herself.

  A tingling sensation started on her scalp and moved down the back of her neck and upper spine. “Sorry to be so direct, but do you happen to belong to a BDSM group?” Her heart pounded so hard Suzie could probably hear it. “I don’t want to put my nose in your business, but I was in the lifestyle in the Netherlands, and I miss it.”

  Suzie's mouth fell open. “You were?”

  Yvonne nodded wordlessly.

  “In that case, you have to come to Club Indigo for the party after the wedding!”

  The elevator halted with a jerk and jarred Yvonne out of her memories. As the doors slid open, she straightened her shirt and faced the exit.

  With the doors completely open, she had a clear view of a big space with men and women. No one paid attention to her and Suzie, their focus trained on the blond man and confident woman Yvonne had admired at the party. Suzie’s friends, Jim and Paula? Yvonne caught the end of the man’s words. “… so we can have this celebration.” She wasn’t sure why people laughed, but he continued, “Sorry, but we couldn’t manage champagne during the workday.” More laughter erupted before he stated, “We have a few technical details to take care of, and then the festivities will commence. We would like all of you to witness our wedding. As you can see, there will be cake.”