by M. Q. Barber
“You find Jay responds well however you praise him, so long as you do so verbally and provide a task he enjoys. This is an easy matter to accomplish, as he enjoys any task that makes you happy. And, paradoxically, a difficult matter to accomplish, as you cannot tell if the reward truly makes him happy by itself or if it is merely the action of pleasing you that rewards him.”
Henry magic, taking a jumble of complexity and turning it linear with such quickness.
Practice. Experience. Tonight would be her third attempt at enforcing the spot checks on their shared bedroom. Henry had years of experience, not only with the submissive mindset in general, but with Jay specifically.
“Not to worry.” Henry kissed her cheek. “You’ve done nothing thus far to upset him, and I don’t expect you will. Have you considered that you may simply ask him if he’s enjoying himself? In your room, he’s duty-bound to answer you honestly.”
She nearly smacked herself in the face. “Checking in. I should check in with him even when I’m rewarding him. I don’t know what I’m doing otherwise.”
“Asking questions is not a sign of failure, sweet girl. Your ability to intuit his needs will grow with time.”
He’d told her something similar the night of their anniversary dinner, when he’d held her in his lap. Then he’d been talking about himself. “Like you did with me at first.”
“And still do. A question is not a weakness but a strength. Information gathering. A tool to sharpen your mind just as you do at work. Now—are you comfortable in your role?” He winked as he asked. Gathering information about her, still, and in no way relinquishing the dominance in the conversation.
Damn, he was good. She’d have to work on questioning Jay the way Henry questioned her. She didn’t have to anticipate Jay’s answers the way Henry did hers. That skill would grow. The appearance of confidence and the deep desire to know would get her through in the beginning.
“More than I was three minutes ago.” She breathed deep and exhaled slowly. “If you’ll excuse me, I have an appointment to keep.”
“Have fun,” he murmured. “I’m certain Jay will.”
* * * *
Her shoes clicked on the hardwood in the hall. She crossed onto the bedroom rug in silence. Jay stood at the foot of the bed with his feet spread and his hands clasped behind him. At ease. Not raised or hunched, his shoulders signaled eagerness, no tension.
He didn’t look up, and she didn’t speak. Not yet. Earning his reward had to mean something to Jay. She’d taken her cue from Henry here. Stillness. Waiting. Jay struggled with those things. So she started her spot checks the same way every time, requiring him to be still and quiet while she pulled a dominant cloak over her mind.
She went to the vanity, the one Henry had loaned her the first day they’d met. Other than the lone double bed, she had her furniture and Jay had his, which left the bedroom cozy rather than crowded. A good fit, like Henry’s bed and their bodies. She bent at the waist, giving Jay the chance to ogle her ass. Waiting would be easier if he had something fun to think about.
She slid open the thin center drawer, the one intended as a jewelry tray, and lifted out her pen and notebook. A basic Moleskine, but it served her purpose. She’d splurge on a leather cover when her budget had more wiggle room. She wrote the time and date at the top right on a fresh page.
“Jay.” Her quiet call brought his head up immediately, his eyes focused on hers. “Show me what you’ve done this week, sweetheart.”
She took notes as he led her around the room. Everything in its place. Laundry in the basket. Items lined up across the top of his dresser. Clean clothes folded in the drawers rather than tossed in. The bed made. The closet tidy. The rug vacuumed. She noted each task he’d completed and praised his thoroughness, his dedication, and his courtesy in keeping their shared space immaculate.
“You’ve been very good, Jay. Do you know how proud it makes me to come home and see this?”
He shook his head, his face sweet and open to her. No, he probably didn’t. Organization was something Henry had trained in him, not an inborn trait. A well-ordered space didn’t calm his mind the way it did hers.
“No?” She laid the notebook aside and took his hands. “When I walk in the door, sweetheart, I only want two things—to see my beautiful boys and to relax. And here’s my Jay, keeping everything in order, so there’s no work to be done here. Nothing I need to worry about.” She raised his hands and kissed his palms. “You’ve earned a reward for such generosity. Would you like to help me relax even more, Jay?”
“Yes, please, Alice.” He squirmed, a subtle ripple.
She didn’t have to look down to know he’d be hard.
“On your knees, then.” She squeezed his hands once and let go. “Help me undress. Shoes first, please.”
He sank to the floor in a single fluid move. She rested a hand on his shoulder as he lifted her right foot. Ran the other through the hair on his bowed head.
He caressed her feet as he slipped off her shoes, his fingers warm and firm through her thin socks.
She moaned soft encouragement. “Your hands are so much more comfortable than shoes, sweetheart. Socks next, please.”
His slipped his hands inside her pants leg and rolled her dress sock down to her toes, first one side and then the other.
She flexed her foot.
He squeezed.
“Tell me what you’re thinking right now, Jay. Are you enjoying your reward?”
“Yes, Alice. I’m thinking about how small your feet are. How they fit in my hands. How soft your skin is. How it tastes when you let me kiss you.” His words tumbled out unfiltered, without pause.
“Would you like to kiss me now, sweetheart?”
He answered with a sharp nod and a whispered please.
“You’ve been such a good boy this week that I’m going to allow it. You may kiss any skin you’ve uncovered, Jay.”
He curved over her bare feet like a territorial puppy guarding a toy, his elbows out to ward off nonexistent challengers. Kissing the tops of her feet first, he sucked at her skin with strength. Placed the gentlest of kisses on her ankles. Rubbed his cheek against her.
“Thank you, sweetheart. I’m feeling nice and relaxed thanks to you. Do you know what else will help me relax?”
He sat back on his heels, eyes bright, smile sly. Henry’s little comedian. Her playmate. “No pants?”
She laughed, nodding. “No pants. Can you help me with that, Jay?”
His fingers were at her belt before she’d even said his name. “Yes, Alice.”
Oh, yes. God knew Henry had him undress her often enough. Jay could probably do it blindfolded. Something to consider for the future, but one she’d have to ask Henry about. Blindfolds had to count as toys, and toys required permission.
Opening her belt and unzipping her slacks, Jay inhaled on an almost-silent whimper. He curved his hands around her ass over her panties. She hummed in happy agreement with his solid grip.
The pants slid to the floor.
He leaned into her, resting his forehead against her panties. His breath gusted across the silk. A new pair. Dark green. A welcome-to-our-home gift from Henry.
Jay traced the edges with his fingers.
“Do you like my panties, Jay?”
His nod brushed dark hair along the hem of her shirt.
“Do you want me to leave them on for now?”
Stillness, but not a no. A yes he didn’t want to voice? She ran her hands through his hair. “Do you want to know why I want to leave them on for now?”
Fingertips stroking silk, he nodded in rapt fascination.
“They give me courage. And love. All wrapped up in Henry’s touch. And this pair is my new favorite. Do you know why?”
“His eyes,” Jay murmured. He nuzzled at her, his nose bumping her clitoris.
Her desire ticked up a notch, and she forced herself to set it aside. She hadn’t been so blatantly sexual with his last two rewards, and she
wouldn’t make this more than comfort and foreplay. Bonding.
“The color matches. Like he’s watching over us. S’why I like my shorts with the green stripe best.”
“Exactly right,” she whispered. “Come up here and unbutton my shirt, sweetheart. The bra matches, and what’s underneath is for you.”
“Kisses?” Popping his head up, he set to work on the bottom button of her shirt.
“For any skin you reveal.”
Her shirt followed her pants to the floor, and she ordered Jay onto the bed. Not out of his clothes. She’d work up to those rewards eventually. He curled against her in his T-shirt and tented shorts. She laid his fingers on the front clasp of her bra. “Do you want to give me kisses here, Jay? Would you like that?”
He wriggled at her side, cock pressed to her hip, and whimpered. “Yes, please.”
She squeezed his hand and let go. “Go ahead, sweetheart. As many kisses as you like, until Henry calls us to dinner.”
He opened the clasp and brushed aside the silk with his hand.
She breathed deep, her chest lifting into his touch, the instinctive first breath of freedom after the day’s confinement. Henry had chosen surprisingly comfortable undergarments for her. She wasn’t denying that. But a bra was still a bra, and her breasts were not so large as to demand constant support, and off was always more comfortable than on.
Jay smothered her breasts in kisses. Light kisses first, lips dragging, cold as he inhaled and warm as he exhaled. His tiny, contented sounds, between a grunt and a hum, made her smile.
They lay side by side, bodies tilted toward each other. Her eyelids drooped as she stroked his back and his hair, murmuring to him of what a good boy he was. How much he deserved this time with her. How she appreciated his love.
She’d gotten it right. She felt the difference, the confidence filling her as Jay tugged at her nipples and his hands curled and flexed against her stomach. This time she’d balanced the comfort and relaxation she wanted and needed with the security and praise Jay wanted and needed. She wouldn’t wonder later how she’d done or wish she could ask Henry to grade her performance.
Things might be more playful on other nights. They might be more power-oriented. But in this moment, she’d listened to Jay’s needs and given him the right reward. She sighed, happy, relaxed. Her eyes drifted open, fastening on Henry, a silent witness in the doorway.
She raised an eyebrow, her hands pausing on Jay’s back, but Henry shook his head.
He raised a finger to his lips, curved in a gentle smile. When you’re ready, he mouthed. Not before.
She gave the slightest nod, a movement Jay might interpret as her resettling her head, assuming he noticed. His fascination seemed trancelike.
Supper was served half an hour late Wednesday, with no complaints.
* * * *
Alice adjusted numbers on her computer screen. Silently swore. Adjusted them back. Listened to Jay’s laughter from the living room, where Henry provided contemptuous commentary for the reality show Jay had stopped the TV on. Hard to resist a train wreck. And that’s what she had here, too.
June would start in two days. Tomorrow was Friday—Henry’s time. Saturday they’d be dining with Santa, a nerve-racking prospect even though she’d suggested it. Her June budget had to get ironed out tonight. With a lease demanding thirty days’ notice before vacating, she’d still be paying June rent on her empty apartment.
By itself, not a problem. Except now she lived here, and she ought to pay her share of the June rent, and she didn’t even know what that was. Sitting at the dining room table staring at the numbers for over an hour brought nothing beyond embarrassment and frustration.
Whatever one-third of Henry’s rent came to, she couldn’t pay it. Not while paying her old rent. Her student loan payments. Her little sister’s rent and a stipend for her expenses, because she refused to have Olivia dividing her attention between medical school and a job. Ollie deserved the best opportunities. The path with the fewest obstacles.
“Alice, come join us.” Henry’s voice rose above the varying modulations emanating from the television. “You’ve sequestered yourself quite long enough for the night.”
“Uh-huh.” If she didn’t contribute to the food budget and didn’t eat lunch all month, she could offer a partial payment on her share of the rent. “In a minute.” She could go without lunch. The breakfasts and dinners he made for her and Jay would—
“Now, please, Alice.”
Huh? What—shit. She’d blown him off in her distraction. And it wasn’t as if she were making progress, because there was none to be made. Time to suck up her courage.
She powered down the computer and joined the men on the couch. Henry sat sideways, his legs stretched along the cushions. Jay lay on his side, his head pillowed on Henry’s thigh.
Jay sat up enough for Henry to pull her into his lap before settling down again. His weight sprawled across both of them, head near her hip, shoulder a gentle pressure between her legs. He shifted as he made himself comfortable.
She fought not to squirm.
Henry clasped her shoulders and touched his mouth to her ear. “I’ll gladly allow some leeway in your conduct, Alice, but I do expect to be treated with more respect than an irritating insect swatted away without thought.”
“I know. You’re right, Henry. I was distracted. I’m sorry.” Not because he was her dominant, but because he was her lover and her friend, and he deserved better than her inattention.
He pressed his thumbs deep into the back of her neck, digging tiny circles in her muscles. “More than distracted, I’d say.”
“Rude, then.” Her eyes drifted half-closed. “I’m still sorry.”
Uttering a noncommittal sound, Henry sank his thumbs lower and dug deeper, pushing out toward her shoulders. “I was speaking of your tension, my sweet girl.” He kissed the top of her ear. “What has you so distressed tonight?”
The perfect opening. “Could I—would it be all right if I waited to start paying my share of the rent until July?”
Henry’s hands stopped moving. Shit.
Jay rolled to his back, tipping his head into her stomach. “What share of the rent?”
“Mine. My third?”
Jay moved his head from side to side with slow, regular motions.
“You aren’t paying rent?”
“Paying the rent isn’t his responsibility, Alice.” Henry resumed the massage. “Nor is it yours.”
Rebellion bolted through her. “I’m living here. I’ll pay my fair share.” When you lived with someone, you split the costs down the middle and paid for your own food. “I always have before.”
“You’re been living with roommates before. Such is not the case here.” Henry crossed his arms in front of her and held her tightly to him. “Providing a home for you and Jay is my privilege.”
“But that’s—” Fuck. She didn’t mean to sound ungrateful, but she didn’t like feeling beholden, either. She needed to pay her share. She just couldn’t until July. “I don’t know if I can do that.”
Jay looked up at her with wide eyes.
Henry rested his head against hers. “Tell me why not. What is it about the idea that makes you uncomfortable?”
“I guess—” Dad had handled the financial stuff until his accident. When Mom had taken over, homework had come with a chorus of angry voices in the background every night.
Not paying rent meant handing Henry another kind of control over her. Wiggle room to push for authority over her bank accounts. Not happening. Had she inadvertently picked a man who felt worthless if he didn’t control the cash flow? She should’ve asked before she fell in love.
“I want to be an equal partner, Henry.” Christ, she sounded like an idiot. An equal partner in a relationship built on inequality. Power exchanges she’d agreed to. “Financially, I mean.”
“When you lived with roommates, Alice, an equal share of the rent earned you an equal voice in decisions, did it not?�
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“It was supposed to, yeah.” Her last roommates hadn’t given a shit about keeping common areas clean.
“Payment served as a kind of protection. A guarantee.” Henry’s even tone offered no clues to his thoughts.
“Right.” God, navigating this minefield would be easier if she knew whether she’d offended him.
“Because your roommates had no particular concern for your welfare beyond your ability to pay, did they?”
“We weren’t friends, if that’s what you mean.”
“I do mean.” Henry dropped his hand to Jay’s chest.
Jay’s heavy exhalation sank chest and hand both. He tracked her with his eyes. Tension clung to his lips and jaw.
“Am I someone you need protection from, Alice? A roommate you fear might throw you out if you can’t deliver? Perhaps you feel paying rent is a safety clause. A backup in the event you somehow fail to satisfy me as a submissive or as a sexual partner? A way of showing you are worth more than your actions in our bed?” Henry’s harsh whispers slashed at her heart.
“That’s not—I wouldn’t—” But she trembled. He wasn’t wrong. She wanted proof, something she could point to and say she’d contributed, some security that this relationship wouldn’t dissolve into nothing. Or worse. Paying an equal share from the start, she’d avoid angry bickering over money.
“It’s all right, sweet girl.” Henry pressed his lips against the side of her head. “You’re unaccustomed to thinking of your lovers as family. Unaccustomed to living with them. To considering a future with them.” He coaxed her with a gentle, low tone. “You’ve adjusted to a great number of changes in the last year, Alice. If this is one for which you feel unready, that’s fine.”
Henry’s deep breath lifted her as his chest moved, and he tightened his arm around her. “We’ll call June a trial month of nonpayment, hmm? If, come July, you remain uncomfortable with the notion, we’ll settle on something appropriate then.”
He hadn’t said no or dismissed her concerns. He’d give her time to work through them. Of course he would. He was Henry. “I can live with that.”
“Good.” He traced the edge of her collarbone. “As you’re considering, perhaps you’ll think on how you might handle such a situation in my position?”
