Graduation and Gifts (Untouchable Book 8)

by Heather Long

  Subject: CONGRATS!! Freedom!

  Seriously, that’s sooo cool! Thanks for the pictures. Don’t get weirded out, but I like how normal all that seems. We’ve been homeschooling or doing online school on the road for so long, I’m probably going to bomb the minute I walk into Blue Ivy, but you know what? IDGAF. Taking time off is about letting us work on us.

  Also, girl. The daddy drama. We need like a weekend, some alcohol, and maybe some weed. It might take all of that for me to confess all of mine, but I’m glad yours seems to be cool.

  So what are your summer plans? Have you and Ian worked on your new sound yet? I want to hear a remix where you get his voice some more airtime. If he gives you any trouble, remind him you hold the key to the va-jay-jay. If he wants penis tunnel time, he’s going to have to cooperate. Besides, no lie—his voice is panty melting hot.

  And on that note, hit me up with new lyric sheets. We have three more weeks on this freaking tour, and then I swear I’m going to sleep for a month. Send me music.

  KC

  Chapter Seven

  Learning the Ropes

  Ian

  We’d taken the bike tonight. If there were a chance Frankie would need aftercare before we left, I’d have suggested her car. However, our class this evening was for me to learn and her to observe. The feel of her arms wrapped around my waist and breasts pushing against my back were both sensations I never wanted to end. Since we had time, I took us for a ride around the lake. The days were getting sultrier, but a flash storm earlier had cooled the humidity and left it gorgeous.

  We hadn’t discussed our next steps, but Memorial Day weekend was coming and Archie wanted to spring the surprise then. I was good with that. It gave us time to get a couple of classes in with Lyssa and Richard. Yeah, I couldn’t call him Master anything unless we were in a scene, and here was hoping they didn’t require that tonight.

  Frankie calling me Sir Ian was heady as fuck, but I didn’t need it or want it from anyone else, no matter how much I teased Coop.

  Longer days meant the sun was still out when we pulled into the industrial park where the club was located. Frankie’s eyes were bright as she danced off the back of the bike and pulled the helmet free. “I could ride for hours,” she admitted, and I grinned.

  “Maybe we’ll do that. Take a drive over to Louisiana and find the Blue Dog Café for gumbo or something.”

  Laughter bubbled out of her. “Sold.”

  “You’d have agreed without the food stop.”

  “Oh, absolutely,” she said as she shook out the waves of golden blonde hair. “But you’ve put gumbo on the table, Sir, and I’m afraid I’ll have to hold you to it.”

  Amusement unfurled within me as I slid off the bike and set my helmet on it before taking hers and adding it. Then I cupped her face in my hands and kissed her. Frankie didn’t ask any questions as she pushed up on her toes, her lips parting for me beautifully. The gentle glide of her tongue was intoxicating, but it was the soft moan she exhaled that sent all my blood southward.

  Still nibbling, I tested my own restraint as she leaned into the caress, but no other part of her body touched me. Just her face, where I cradled it in my hands, and her lips, which opened to me in eager surrender and potential demand.

  Breaking the kiss slowly and more than a little reluctantly, I found her eyes half-closed and her body swaying a little in my direction. The lack of tension in her expression satisfied me on a level so primitive, I didn’t want to examine it too closely. I needed to keep her safe and make things easier for her. The bliss on her face was my objective.

  “You ready?” We’d discussed this with Lyssa and Richard the week before over dinner. Funnily enough, the first lesson hadn’t been a lesson so much as a getting acquainted to help remove some of the awkwardness. I appreciated the effort. I also appreciated the fact they had the names and numbers of a couple of similarly-run clubs in New York—one in Manhattan and the other in Brooklyn.

  “Is it weird that I’m excited to watch?”

  “Nope,” I assured her, then traced my thumb over her cheekbone. Sometimes it was easy to think of her as fragile, but she wasn’t. “I didn’t know voyeur was your kink, but there’s nothing wrong with it.”

  Her laughter wrapped around me like a hug. “Not sure I get off on it like Coop does, but I’m excited to see what you’re going to get to do with the ropes. I mean when it’s me, I can’t see what you do.”

  That made sense. “I’ll make sure I take pictures if you ever want to see the designs.” Because there would be designs. Nearly every single thing I’d devoured on shibari and the art of rope was that it was an art. Frankie would be the canvas.

  “That both scares and excites me… The pictures part, I mean.”

  “Well, one step at a time then, yeah?” With that, I slid an arm around her shoulders and we headed inside. One perk of membership was we just had to show our dog tags with the club ID stamped on them, and then we were through the doors to the kitchen and lounging area.

  Lyssa was brewing a pot of coffee, and she grinned at us. “Hey, how are you both?”

  “We’re good,” Frankie answered as she stripped off her jacket. Neither of us really needed them for the weather, but we definitely needed them for the bike. The reinforced biking jackets had just appeared in the closet one day. They matched perfectly, and I didn’t have to look far for the culprit. Archie just smiled. Considering he just wanted her safe, I let it go, but I did look up how much they cost and paid him back.

  Much to his chagrin.

  Gifts, I had no problem accepting, but these weren’t gifts so much as his attempt to control what he could. I appreciated that. But we had to have some kind of balance.

  “Thanks for coming to graduation,” Frankie was saying, and Lyssa flashed her a quick smile.

  “Oh, honey, my pleasure. Sorry I didn’t stick around for the drama though. Just not my scene.” She motioned to the coffee. “You want some? Ian and I can’t have any, but you’re welcome to it.”

  “Why can’t you have it?”

  “Because,” I answered for Lyssa, “we don’t want any of the senses inhibited, particularly while I’m learning.”

  Frankie twisted to stare at me. “Ian Rhys, you didn’t say anything about no caffeine. This might be a deal breaker.”

  I cocked my head to the side and stared at her. Her green eyes glittered, and her nose wrinkled up. Yeah, I didn’t believe her either. “Really?”

  “No,” she said, making a face. “But I love my coffee.”

  “I promise to make it worth the sacrifice.”

  “You two are adorable,” Lyssa said with a grin and poured Frankie a cup of coffee. “Also, saw your dad Frankie. He’s a hottie.”

  Lyssa absolutely knew what she was doing, but Frankie’s face made me laugh anyway. “He’s a nice guy,” I cut in, because I got it. Let’s not talk about our parents here. “But Frankie’s right—we really do appreciate you coming to graduation. It was thoughtful.”

  She smiled. “Again, it was my pleasure. Thank you both for inviting me. My only regret is that graduation means you’re both moving soon, but you’ll be back for holidays, yes?”

  “Some, yes,” I told her as Frankie smiled at me. “My parents are still here, and we have a few other ties.”

  But Frankie didn’t. Well, she had the ties to our families, because our families rallied around her and were all making it a point to support her. Mom, Dad, Jake’s and Coop’s moms. I counted Jeremy in that number, but I had a feeling he’d picked her over all of us except for Archie a long time ago.

  “Well, good. Then we keep your memberships so that you can come and visit with us too, and I know Richard gave you some numbers for New York. I know a few people too. A couple of good subby groups.” She winked at Frankie. “Sometimes, it can be lonely when you’re starting out and you don’t know who to ask questions of. Ian will do everything he can, but he’s not a subby.”

  No, no I was not.

 
; “I appreciate that. There’s gonna be so much to do when we get to New York. It’ll be nice to have others I can talk to who won’t think it’s weird when I ask about my desire to be a brat.”

  Lyssa chuckled and I snorted, but Frankie’s wide grin delighted me. “You don’t need a reason,” Lyssa answered before I could.

  “She would know,” Richard declared as he strolled in wearing a suit and tie. He also had a duffel bag over his shoulder. I had no idea what he did in his day job life. He didn’t offer, and I didn’t ask. “I am running late, my apologies if I kept you waiting. If you don’t mind giving me ten minutes, I’ll go change and we can get started.” He gave Frankie a quiet nod, but held out his hand to me. I shook it once.

  “No problem. We’ve been catching up with Lyssa.”

  “Excellent. No coffee,” he said to Lyssa, and she stuck her tongue out at him.

  “It’s for Frankie.”

  His expression was indulgent. “Of course it is, but a reminder never hurt anyone, unlike bratty behavior.”

  The connection between them amused me. I couldn’t tell if they were just dating or together. One of the things they’d both stressed in the beginning was BDSM could be a component of a relationship or it could be the whole relationship. But just because they did scenes together didn’t necessarily mean they shared a sexual relationship as well. The power exchange was one aspect, the sexual relationship was another.

  Part of why I understood that I wouldn’t really look for someone else to share the power dynamic with. I wanted it all with Frankie. Even coming here in the beginning to learn and try to explore my interests, I hadn’t wanted to just find someone to work a scene with, even after observing. There had been more joy in the play Frankie and I had done, unstructured or constrained, than anything I’d seen here.

  Not that I was judging, either. I wanted to learn. I wanted to know everything. Richard and Lyssa were both open, direct people. Richard might be more reserved than Lyssa, but I got that impression from a few of the more dominant partners I’d met here. They were more guarded, especially around their sub. Since I did the same thing for Frankie, I definitely got it. I also appreciated their candor more than I could describe. Making it safe and joyful for Frankie would always be my primary goal.

  Frankie had the large cup of coffee in a refillable tumbler ready to go. At her raised eyebrows, I just smiled. I loved that she always wanted to make sure I was okay with something too. Honestly, I’d have probably been more nervous if I were doing this to Frankie right now with an audience. I was less uncertain about having her there to watch and learn with me.

  “All right, you two,” Lyssa said with a grin. “Enough with the googly eyes. You’re killing my teeth here. C’mon, let’s take you back. We’re in the quiet room tonight. I thought it would be easier for you and that you may not want an audience for your first tying session.”

  “Thank you,” I told Lyssa as I held my hand out for Frankie. “Do I need to change?”

  “Are you comfortable in what you’re wearing?”

  I was in jeans and a T-shirt. Our jackets were hanging up. Like me, Frankie was in jeans and she had on one of her Torched T-shirts that she’d fallen in love with. Neither of us had on motorcycle boots, but I’d added those to the list of items we needed to add to our wardrobes, particularly for longer rides.

  “Pretty much.”

  “Well, then unless Master Dick,” she said the last bit with a wink and a conspiratorial smile at Frankie, “says otherwise, you’re fine.” As we followed her, Frankie slipped her hand right into mine. “As you get the feel for it, you’ll know more about what you’re comfortable in.”

  Richard—yeah not calling him Master Dick unless absolutely required, bratty subs and all that notwithstanding—seemed fairly relaxed when he offered advice. But his commands were absolute, and it was interesting to see how he spoke to and handled Lyssa in a scene versus outside of it.

  The quiet room was just that—the walls were a little thicker and padded to help insulate against sounds from outside. The room was set up so they could arrange what they needed in it. There were hooks and eyelets in the wall for running ropes and an armbar that extended out for suspension work.

  We were definitely not there yet.

  Richard was already in the room when we stepped inside, and he had an assortment of materials from rope to silk ties and more. He nodded to Frankie, then to a pair of armchairs set up in the corner.

  “Be good,” she teased me with a whisper. “I expect good grades.”

  Yeah, I swatted her on the ass as she skipped away from me, and her laughter eddied back. Brat.

  Lyssa grinned as she slipped off her shoes. Like us, she was dressed in street clothes and casual. Though her pants were more leggings and she pulled off the T-shirt to reveal the body hugging top underneath.

  “Better for you to see form,” was all Richard said. “Clothing is something you’re also going to practice with and without eventually. You just have to remember that when you’re binding, clothing can also bind.”

  Okay, that made sense.

  Instead of sticking with us, Lyssa padded over to the corner and settled into the other armchair.

  “We’re not quite ready for her yet,” Richard continued as he set out the different types of restraints. There were leather ties. Handcuffs. Different kinds of rope. Silk ties. Even regular pieces of torn cloth. “Let’s go over the merits of each, then remind me what you know about coiling your ropes and knots.”

  The next hour was a bit grueling. Richard was a very precise man, which I appreciated. One of the very first demonstrations I attended had been in ropework, and he’d gone over the different ways of coiling the rope. Once you began tying, you wanted the rope to stay smooth and the motion to be even, as it was better for the rope bunny and easier for the knotmaster.

  I had three knots I was comfortable with, two that were quick release. For suspension work, the third knot would be better for when we were securing to something higher.

  That made sense.

  Periodically, I glanced over to find Frankie leaned forward and watching. She had no phone or notepad or pen. But I swear, you could see her mentally taking notes on everything

  Only after I’d coiled and recoiled the ropes twice and selected the type I was most comfortable with, and the least likely to cause friction burns, did Lyssa join us. Her smile was open and affable.

  “Don’t be nervous,” she teased. “I’ll be gentle.”

  “That’s one,” Richard warned, and Lyssa winked at me. I probably shouldn’t have laughed, but her teasing coupled with his sternness did make this a bit easier. I did not want to screw this up. “As for you, breathe. If you’re tense, you convey that tension to your sub. They’re trusting you to take care of them, so you have to be in the right headspace to do that.”

  He had a point, and it was why he was a good teacher. I concentrated on evening out my breathing then focusing on the rope I had coiled. Richard directed Lyssa to kneel, and then he began looping the rope around her wrists and then binding them together. It was simple but elegant, the knots were more decorative, but still offering a semblance of binding.

  Then it was my turn. Richard loosened his ties and removed it, and I worked the rope around her wrists, wrapping slowly. Then setting the knot. I’d actually practiced this one, so it was pretty straightforward.

  “You don’t want to go too loose,” Richard said. “If she relaxes, which they will over time because the ropes offer that soothing effect, this might slip off. So if you adjust the knot, you can tighten and loosen as needed.”

  Three more times, we repeated this set. He would do her wrists and tie them off, then remove it and then I would. The goal wasn’t to do the exact same set of knots, but to get a feel for the tension and setting it. Soon, we were binding up to her elbows, and Lyssa just knelt there, her eyes a little glassy and her breathing slowing.

  When Richard lifted her so she wasn’t kneeling anymore but all
owed her to sit, I waited while he rubbed her feet. Gradually, awareness bled back into her face as she winced.

  “In the beginning, you have to check frequently, you’ll learn their cues. Lyssa, for example, can go so still, she forgets that her limbs will start to go to sleep, and since part of taking care of them is making sure they don’t hurt themselves, this is where you have to make the call. So now, we can continue with some more light work or we can end it. What do you think?”

  He was giving me the choice?

  I frowned and then glanced at Lyssa, studying her. Her breathing was far more normal, her pupils not so glassy or blown, and there was the barest hint of a smile on her face. “I’d be game to continue if you think she’s up for it,” I offered.

  “Tell me what you see,” Richard instructed, and I sighed.

  “You can do it.” Frankie’s voice was so soft that I barely heard it. I hadn’t forgotten she was there, but the encouragement skirted the reluctance. She was right—I could do this, and I needed to do this.

  So I described Lyssa’s physical responses. “If she were Frankie, I’d know what this meant. I feel like I’m guessing because I don’t know her as well.”

  “Fair,” Richard told me. “But that’s part of what you’re learning, so think back to what her responses were when we began.” Good point.

  “Lyssa, are you comfortable with a little more practice?” I’d say her physiological responses all pointed toward yes, so that just left consent.

  The nod and quiet smile from Richard told me I’d chosen correctly, and Lyssa gave me an even wider grin. “I’m definitely game for more.”

  Every part of this was a test, but that was the point of the lessons, right? We spent the next couple of hours going over more knots and ties and different ways to start. By the time we finished, I’d bound her wrists, her ankles, her wrists to her ankles, and her hands in front as well as in back. We’d bound them up, then down.