Dance for Me

by Kay Elle Parker

  She’d dropped off in mid-sentence, her head pillowed on folded arms resting on the island counter while he checked the vegetables simmering on the stove.

  It took his breath away even now, hours later. The visage she made, fast asleep, every inch the innocent he’d defiled. Long, dark eyelashes on pale skin, her hair braided loosely but still damp. He loved her hair.

  For Braun, it had been a moment depicting what the rest of their lives together could be like. Bodie, body heavy with child, napping at the counter or in the eating nook, while he did what his nature did best—tended. He’d rub her tired feet every night after a long day of dancing, talk about their day over a good meal, then watch TV or listen to music until he carried her upstairs to their room and made love to her until the world ended.

  Sappy asshole.

  “Someone looks fucking pleased with himself.” Jasper slapped him on the shoulder as he dropped down beside him. “Has the curse of the blue balls finally abandoned you to plague some other poor sucker?”

  “Sure, I sent it your way, buddy. About time you suffered the indignity of blue balls, what with all the subbies vying for your attention.” Braun gestured to the ever-present Anarchy hovering to their left, more than a dozen feet away. It was clear to anyone with a brain cell in his head that the little subbie's focus had laser-sharp intensity, and all of it was for Jasper. “One in particular.”

  The sadist glanced toward the sub, eyes brightening with the primal hunger so many women fawned over...until they realized the true extent of his bestial nature. “We’re not talking about my sex life, Braun, but just so we are perfectly clear, I am not getting involved with that tasty morsel. So, back to you and the delightful Boadicea. The deed is done?”

  Braun's gaze swept the room, landing on his own sub at the bar. Tonight was a good night, not the frantic heave of Friday and Saturday nights, but a gathering of players small enough to make the evening cozy yet large enough to appease his business sense. “She’s mine, if that’s what you’re asking.”

  Jasper almost purred. “Excellent. Perhaps she’ll find a modicum of peace with a strong hand guiding her. She’ll make you work for everything she gives you, but you’ve never backed down from a challenge that I can remember.”

  “I told her I love her.”

  “You did what now?”

  Braun lifted his shoulder. “It’s the truth. It doesn’t scare me, and I figure she should get used to hearing me say it. Might seem too soon, but I’m sunk, J. Pretty damn sure her initials are carved into my heart. I see a future with her and, fuck, I’d kill to have it. To have her in my life, period.”

  “As in subbie?”

  “As in wife.” His gaze followed her as she accepted a glass from Liam, blushed furiously at something the Master said, then made her way tentatively toward the seating pit. She still carried herself with her innate dancer’s grace, he noted with a proud smirk, but he could see from here how her body protested the foreign new use of her muscles. “As in forever.”

  “By God, you work fucking fast,” Jasper breathed. “Are you sure the curse hasn’t just twisted your perception of easy access pussy into something momentarily more permanent?”

  “I should belt you for that,” Braun responded casually, fisting his hand in warning. “I know my one when she falls into my lap, brother. Wouldn’t you?”

  Jasper glared at his shadow, still lurking several feet away. “Nope. Because the one isn’t always the right one. For either person involved. Sometimes it’s better not to get involved with them at all because you just know someone will end up buried head-first in a five-pint tub of ice cream and drowning in sad fucking romance movies for a week or six.”

  “Wow,” Braun said, impressed. “That’s deep. You bury yourself in ice cream often, J? You’ve never asked me around for one of these pity parties—have you been holding out on me?”

  “Fuck you.” Jasper jammed his elbow into Braun’s ribs, then smiled at the vision descending the steps into the pit. “If she’s really who you want, I’ll wish you all the best. Could do a helluva lot worse.”

  The mellow lighting throughout the area dimmed in comparison to the woman walking toward him in a pair of red boy shorts and a black tank top. Her practice clothes for dance workouts, and the only thing they’d been able to rustle up from her car. She held the glass in her hands like a bomb, afraid jostling it might make the damn thing blow up.

  “She’s really who I want,” Braun murmured, entranced by her. His hand slipped around her waist when she stood before him, offering his drink without a word. He took it, set it on the wooden rim of the pit, then pulled her onto his lap. “Do you want to scene tonight, little one, or would you rather just have a quiet evening sitting here for a while?”

  Her head cocked, her eyes confused. “I get a choice?”

  “Of course, you do. It’s been an...athletic afternoon for us both. We can just stay here, talk to the local reprobates,” he said in a mock whisper with an eye roll toward Jasper, “and relax for a couple hours before I take you back to bed. Or we can mosey on next door and play. Whatever you feel up to, Bodie.”

  Jasper snorted. “Can you even get your dick up again after your athletic afternoon, brother? That geriatric piece of equipment might struggle with twice in one day.”

  “Shut up before I call your favorite shadow dweller over and tell her just how excited you are at the prospect of scening with her, J. And for the record, my cock isn’t that much older than yours.”

  “Two years makes all the difference.” Jasper winked at Bodie, and to Braun’s surprise, she offered him a hesitant smile in return. Well, I never thought I’d see the day when she didn’t look at J like the enemy. “How are you doing today, poppet? Atticus thinks it’s hilarious you clocked me. His new pet name for you is Slugger.”

  Blue eyes rounded in shock, then she burst into laughter sweeter than cotton candy. “Slugger? Seriously, that’s the best he’s got?”

  Braun stared at his friend, no doubt with the mirror image of Jasper’s shocked face plastered on his own. Apparently, his subbie was easy enough to tame if one held her hostage in a parking lot and pushed her past her social limits into a fight. What the fuck had Jasper said to her while they sat on the cold ground last night?

  Whatever it was, it worked.

  “You gave me some good smacks, poppet. With a bat in your hands, you’d have had me on my knees. I see you remember what I told you last night before this big lummox came and stole you away?” Jasper leaned back, running his finger under his lower lip thoughtfully. “Good girl.”

  Her shiver at the praise rippled into Braun. “Thank you, Master Jasper.”

  “You’re welcome, poppet. Now, excuse me while I grab myself a drink and catch up with Liam. I need his opinion on something.” The blond rose, took the long way out of the pit, and left the two lovers alone.

  “I should have brought him a drink,” Bodie murmured, nesting into Braun at his behest. “That was kind of rude of me, wasn’t it?”

  “Not at all. You had your orders, little one, and made me proud.” He breathed in the scent of her hair, pleased beyond measure that she now smelled like him. His shower gel, his shampoo. The scent of bergamot suited her. “Besides, Jasper might have wanted to play tonight. Obviously, he’s decided against it.” Even though Anarchy trails after him with devotion in her eyes, he thought as he watched the little blonde scurry after his friend.

  Bodie scowled at the drink on the side. “You’d already decided we weren’t playing tonight, hadn’t you? Sir,” she tacked on hastily. “You know, we could be in bed right now...”

  “Undoubtedly, we could. I intend to have you there again in short order but consider this a reprieve. Time to chill out, give your body a break without being ravaged by me.”

  “Being here wouldn’t stop you from ravaging me,” she said huskily. “But we’d have one hell of an audience, and I’m not sure I want to share you with the rest of the club.”

  He nibbl
ed her bare shoulder. “You’ll share me as much as I share you, little one. They can look, they can dream, but they can’t touch, taste, or fuck without express permission. But not tonight. Tonight is for you and I, and my very lonely bed.”

  “I-I don’t know if I should stay the night.”

  This was news to him, but he was loath to turn it into a fight...or make her run. “Oh, I really think you should. I like falling asleep with you in my arms, Bodie. I like waking to your company even more.” He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively and considered it a victory when she blushed and turned her face into his neck. “I’d like you to think about spending a few nights a week here with me, Bodie. All the nights. I want you here, safe with me. Tucked up next to me. Making love with me.”

  Her lips curved against his skin. “It’s all about you, isn’t it, Sir?”

  “Oh absolutely, little one.”

  “Well then, I guess I better do as my Master asks.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Bodie didn’t know how he did it, but she ended up staying all the nights for a week with Braun. She was getting too accustomed to that life, a life with him. It wasn’t just the parade of food he not only cooked but prepared himself. It wasn’t the allure of the wonderful, bountiful, generous supply of hot water and his assurance she could shower whenever she wanted, nor did it come down to the fact she wasn’t sure she could ever sleep comfortably again in any other bed but his.

  It was the surety she was in love with him.

  The past seven days had shown her a world where stress and worry didn’t factor into an equation. She could cuddle with Braun on the couch after a hard day of choreographing and practice and not worry about her parents kicking down the damn door to raid her belongings because they were short on cash.

  She’d actually bought a new selection of clothes that actually fit her and that were in current style. Well, Braun had bought them, technically, then refused to take payment from her. So she’d been her usual honest self and slipped the money into his petty cash tin snugged away in a hole in the kitchen wall, hidden by the clock.

  He’d thank her one day, when there was an emergency.

  Or he’d tan her ass when he found out, whichever came sooner.

  She loved walking to and from the club from his house. Thursday night, she’d been tired and cranky after her session with Connie. Braun had walloped her butt for insolence, and then he’d ordered her to go home and go to bed.

  She’d obeyed, her cheeks still stinging from the swift thwaps of his hand across her ass, but she hadn’t been unnerved by the dark or the shadows. Going home had felt like just that—going home. It felt right, walking into his house and trudging up the stairs like a naughty little girl, washing her face and brushing her teeth with the new toothbrush he’d gotten her.

  It had been the first night she’d crawled into the big bed alone, but she hadn’t been scared. No, she’d just sulked, curling onto her side to ease the mild burn of her spanking. Of course, she’d been asleep when he came to bed, but he’d kissed her awake to let her know she wasn’t by herself, then things had progressed to heat level thirty.

  They made love every night without fail. Her repertoire of positions now included cowgirl, doggy, missionary, reverse cowgirl, and spooning. She was quite pleased with herself. Her skills as a submissive were...well, perhaps blossoming wasn’t quite the right word, but she was trying her hardest not to be antagonistic toward her Master when she didn’t understood something he asked of her, or if something scared her.

  But now they were back to starting a fresh week, and she had some decisions to make. Wednesday was the first of the month, which meant her last day of leasing the shithole of an apartment was coming up. If she wanted to move in with Braun—which she did, she really did—she needed to make a start on packing up what little she had left that she wanted to keep, and throwing the remaining scraps of her shitty previous existence out into the trash.

  She wanted her security deposit back off the shifty, weaselly landlord and that wasn’t possible if she didn’t leave the dank, dark hole in a clean, tidy state. Not that the previous tenants had given her that courtesy before she moved in, mind you, but that was neither here nor there now.

  She pulled out of Avalon’s parking lot, incredibly surprised her piece of shit car actually started after a week of sitting in one place like an ugly scrap ornament, sullying Braun’s view from the house.

  Her lover wasn’t happy with her going by herself back to the apartment, but after a waterpipe blew in the men’s bathroom, he was stuck trying to fix the damn thing and clean up while waiting for the experts to arrive. Luckily, the club was closed Mondays, so it wasn’t costing members valuable playtime.

  It shouldn’t take her more than a couple hours to box up her keeper stuff and bag up the rest. Selling most of her belongings had paid off in more ways than one. Once she handed the key over, she wasn’t looking back, wasn’t planning on coming back. She sure as hell wouldn’t be calling her folks up for Sunday dinner.

  She’d left Braun a note with her address on in case he finished the plumbing emergency early and decided to drive through to help, but she’d stated, very plainly, she would be just fine and home in a couple hours ready to embrace this fresh start.

  Moving in with him seemed right, it made sense.

  Bodie just hoped she didn’t blow it.

  While she drove, her thoughts flickered from one Master to another. She thought maybe she and Jasper had a decent foundation beneath them now—not the unstable footings of a submissive afraid of a Dom or her usual aversion to strangers, but something sturdy they could build a friendship on and have it hold strong.

  That Sunday night, outside Avalon, Jasper hadn’t lifted a hand toward her. Not in punishment, not in anger, not in retribution—God knew she’d given him ample reason to lace her black and blue. Punching—check. Slapping—check. Swearing—check. Biting—check. Riding him like a demented pony across the parking lot—oh yeah, she’d done that.

  The memory of it would be funny one day, maybe fifty years in the future when she was old, gray, and the embarrassments of her younger self paled in comparison to the mischief she got up to in her twilight years.

  Right now, it gouged a hole in her gut, even a week after the event. She’d been out of her mind with stress, frantic to escape the secrets she’d spilled and the truths Connie shoved in her face. When Jasper whipped her keys from her hand...well, it flipped her bitch switch and her temper soared.

  She felt a bit sick, knowing she’d drawn blood.

  And then, after she’d bitten and slapped and cursed the guy like a sailor, he’d been kind to her. So fucking kind. Secure on his lap, she’d felt as safe with him as she did with Braun, and somewhere in those few minutes of comfort, he’d walked through the rubble of her defenses and earned her trust.

  Damn those Avalon men, she thought, smiling to herself and drumming her fingers on the wheel. For all their brashness, their maleness and dominance, they were really good guys. It wasn’t surprising Liam fit in so well with them.

  Jasper’s words came back to her, the words he’d given her as she trembled with the force of her emotions. His arms wrapped around her, rocking her gently, as he sat uncomfortably on a sea of stones.

  “Fear will eat you up, poppet. The mind can only take being afraid for so long before it warps and destroys everything you are. The people here aren’t your enemy—I’m not your enemy, Boadicea. We know who you are, what you are, and we love you as you are. When you’re in trouble, when you’re afraid, you can come to us. We’ll find you in the dark and pull you back out.”

  Bodie sniffled and wiped at the dampness under her eyes, slowing the car as she realized her vision was blurred. The traffic for this time of night was sparse but still, she wouldn’t chance an accident.

  When she pulled into the lot outside her small apartment and cut the engine, she stared through the night at the row of cloned shitholes she’d once called home. Wafer-thin walls
, pathetic plumbing, cheap locks on cheaper doors. The security lights running under the canopied roof glowed with a sickly yellow haze.

  There were a few cars parked alongside hers, and she recognized most. There were a couple of motorcycles she couldn’t place—big, black beasts with fancy artwork painted on the tanks.

  The hairs on her nape and arms rose, standing on end as though someone breathed down her neck. She really didn’t want to go back into that place. So what if she lost her security deposit? It was only money. Money could be replaced.

  She really didn’t want to go back in there.

  Scanning the apartment doors with a critical eye, Bodie shook her head slowly and reached for the ignition. When warning signals screamed, she would listen. Something was wrong here, and she wasn’t hanging about to find out what it was.

  Her fingers grasped the key, twisted it. Her clunker of a car turned over once, then putted and died. She swore ripely, gave it a chance to rest, then tried again.

  “Do not die on me here, you piece of shit,” she muttered, sending a prayer to whatever spirit might be listening. “Braun will send you to the scrapheap if you do.”

  Nervously, she checked the area again, was somewhat mollified by the lack of people hanging around. Thirty seconds was all she needed to get the fuck away, to stop the feeling of dread shrouding her.

  The engine caught on the second try, and she closed her eyes in thanks. Then she screamed as glass exploded, slicing over her skin and tinkling onto her lap, the floor, in pieces. Something hard clipped her jaw, shutting her up, and stars erupted over her vision.

  There was an ominous rip of material near her ear, then the pressure of her seatbelt vanished. Dazed, her head rolled to the side where her window had been and watched the gleam of a blade flash back out of the frame. A moment later, her door was yanked open, and a big hairy hand reached in to pluck her from her seat by the front of her sweater.