by Cara Dee
Heat spreads over my cheeks at the praise. "It wasn’t as bad as I feared, though. It was…" I purse my lips and sit down in my seat. "It was just a hiccup. But I still wouldn't have come here if it weren't for you."
Then I wouldn’t have seen my grandmother, so I'm definitely thankful.
"A hiccup." He chuckles, taking his seat next to me, and brushes a kiss to my temple. "That’s a good way of putting it."
Yup. I think so, too. Just a touch of trouble—a slice, and I gobbled that down without problems.
Sure, the occasional whisper I overhear from Amanda shippers stings a little, as do the dozen glares I've received, but Nicholas has helped me to focus on the ones who matter.
Such as my grandmother who loves the book of recipes I bought in Venice. She promises to visit us in San Francisco to cook for us, because she evidently still doesn’t believe we eat enough "down there in California."
*
Two days later, we say goodbye to Oregon with the promise of returning for Christmas next year.
It gives me a year to prepare!
Our family also spends the Fourth of July together, but no, thanks. Once a year is plenty, as long as I can see Gramma Ida a bit more often.
I'm glad I spend most of the flight home asleep, because the moment we land in San Francisco, I'm bouncing all over the place, desperate to meet my kittens for the first time.
Nicholas knows better than to hold me back. There's a time and place for everything; this is the time and place for being the girl who acts like she's on crack.
If anything, he loves me this way. That’s what his expression says as we make our way to Rio's house. Yeah, no, we're not going home first. No way, José.
"Are you gonna tell Rio about Chelsea?" I wrinkle my nose at the whole situation. Even Nicholas was at a loss yesterday when I divulged what Chelsea had told me on the phone. Oh, and my fiancé wonders if Rio's abrupt goodbye to bachelorhood ten years ago is connected to Chelsea, since it occurred around the same time.
I really don’t know…
"Not yet. I want to feel him out a bit first—see if he even reacts to her name." He looks thoughtful, peering out the window on my side. "When does Chelsea move here?"
"She has a part-time job that starts February first," I answer. "But she wants to find something more stable, too." She's already found a room in an apartment she's going to share with three others, so that’s cool.
"You mentioned she's a singer?"
"Not just a singer. She's like friggin' Adele." I think back on the countless nights Chelsea dragged me out to various jazz clubs in New York. "She's super good. That’s the part-time job she's already found. There's a club in the Castro where she's gonna sing two nights a week."
He nods pensively. "What else is she looking for? If she has no preference, I'm sure I can find a position for her—if not at Switch, then one of my other clubs. There's always Blue Hour." That’s his music club where they host open mic nights, I think.
"I'll talk to her." I'm so excited that she's moving here, really. "Thank you—oh! We're here!" I hadn't even noticed that we've reached Rio's house, and now I'm bouncing again.
Mommy's on her way, boys.
*
"Nicholas!" I call from the kitchen. "Pizza's here!" I'm not sure he heard the doorbell earlier, because it gets crazy loud in our laundry room when both the washing machine and the dryer are on. That’s where he is right now, after I've unpacked our luggage from Mexico and Oregon.
I'm awful when it comes to washing clothes; I tend to turn whites pink—damn red panties from my baby devil Halloween costume—but I'm good at ironing and folding, so Nicholas and I have our little arrangement.
Done mixing the salad, I open the fridge to grab our drinks…and a treat for the kittens. We've only been home for a few hours, so they're still exploring the house, which is super cute to watch, and I'm so in love with them already.
Earlier, when Nicholas and I came back downstairs after sharing a shower, they barged into the living room, stopped short, got down in a crouch, then jumped around, rubbed up against the furniture, and tried to sneak into every little nook they could find. Even Nicholas said they were adorable!
He did not, however, find it adorable when Oliver took a liking to wrestling with the remote control. Or when Jackson started knocking over our collection of bottled beach sand from the vacation spots we've visited.
It's only a small collection so far, but I think we need to find a new spot for it. The windowsill obviously doesn’t work for Jackson. Thankfully, none of the small bottles broke.
"I think a gate would seal off the hallway nicely." Nicholas is muttering to himself, and I chuckle. Like a gate would stand in a cat's way! "Sweetheart, can you come here and get the kittens while I pay for the pizza?"
Oh, of course. I forgot. Jackson and Oliver are there in a flash when someone's at the door. Oliver nearly escaped before when we picked them up at Rio's. "Coming!" I deposit the drinks and tuna treat on the kitchen island, then leave the kitchen to join Nicholas in the hallway where I gather the kittens in my arms. "My little rascals."
I get a tiny paw in my face for that. Thanks, Oliver. Mommy loves you, too.
As the deliciousness of melted cheese, oregano, and tomato sauce invades my senses, my belly snarls, as if to say "I want! Gimme pizza!" so I make my way back to the kitchen. Jackson and Oliver can definitely smell the tuna on the island counter. And when I set them down on the floor so I can plate the tuna, they run around my feet—and between them so I nearly trip—and bump their heads and paws against my legs.
The second I set down the plates on the floor, they're all over that tuna.
I giggle and step back, then grin as Nicholas joins me with the pizza.
The kittens are busy, so we take our food, plates, and drinks to the living room and get comfy on the large couch. Right now, we're definitely spent from all the travels, so the only thing on the agenda is snuggling, and eating pizza and candy. And watching movies. In comfortable clothes. I'm only wearing panties and one of Nicholas's Henleys, and he's in a pair of gray sweats—the kind he usually runs in every morning—and a black T-shirt.
"God, it's good to be home." Nicholas groans in contentment and takes the first swig of his beer. "I wouldn’t mind planning our next vacation already, but there's just something about coming home, isn't there?"
"Oh, definitely." I adore that I can agree now. In the past, I was always itching to get away, but that was before I really felt at home somewhere. "What do you wanna watch?"
"You pick something."
So, I settle on some random movie, and we eat our pizza in easy silence before we're stuffed and relaxed in each other's arms under a blanket. By now, the first movie is over, and Nicholas finds another while I get more drinks and a bowl of candy. Though, we don't really watch the movie. Instead we're talking quietly about the past week, and also a little about next year.
"I have some free time coming up in March," he murmurs. He's all sprawled out over the couch, and I lift my head from his chest to peer up at him. "Where would you like to go next?"
I purse my lips, pondering. Meanwhile, Nicholas looks as if he's trying to memorize every detail about my face. "What?" I get self-conscious. Do I have oregano stuck between my teeth or something?
"Nothing. I'm just looking at you." He smiles faintly and brushes his knuckles over my cheek. "You're so beautiful."
"Oh." I get a bit squirmy under his gaze, because it's so intense. Almost overwhelming. "Um. Where do you want to go?" If I don’t keep the conversation running, I'll just attack. And I'm really tired and full. "Stop looking at me like that, Nicholas." I feel my cheeks heating up.
He grins and flips us over, pinning me to the couch. "Never." With a low hum, he slides his nose along my jaw. "Remind me, please. Is there really any flaw in you?"
A breathy laugh escapes me and I poke his side. "There're tons." I start ticking them off on my fingers. "I can be messy, I can't do laundry,
some say I meddle too much—"
"Not too much." He shakes his head and palms my cheek. "Never too much. I love that about you—that you want to see everyone happy." I shrug modestly and burrow closer as he settles next to me. "I'm lucky." After pulling the blanket over us again, as it had slid down before, he gathers my hand over his heart and closes his eyes. "But you're right." A teasing smile appears, but his eyes remain closed. "You can be awfully messy."
I don’t take the bait. "I'm the lucky one," I whisper, sure of it. My gaze flits over his face: the five-o'clock shadow, the laugh lines, the sharp structure of his nose and jaw, the fullness of his firm, yet soft lips, the silver at his temples, his ruffled, light brown hair, his sun-kissed skin… He looks incredibly tired, but just as relaxed and content. Happy and at home.
Maybe we're both lucky.
Chapter 5
It's fairly early, so people have just started to trickle in for a night at Switch, and the Goth metal isn't very loud yet.
I sit obediently on the barstool next to Daddy, but my eyes are all over the place, waiting for Mark to arrive.
He is such a greedy Master, because when the club was closed over the holidays, he kept Evangeline and Brayden all to himself. I get it, I get it—he didn’t see them over Christmas because they were with Evangeline's family, so he wanted to spend New Year's with them. But he's got three whole weeks with them at his beach house in La Jolla starting in only a few days, and I wanna see my friends.
I'm glad they're coming tonight, though. It's January second, and—nose scrunch—it's S/M Night, but beggers can't be choosers. I'll just stay as far away as I can from the sadists.
Like Amanda, they give me the heebie-jeebies.
At least I saw Dylan and Cade a few days ago, which was fun. They came over to our house for dinner, and I learned that they're now in a committed Daddy/Little Boy relationship.
Matchmaking success!
They should be here soon, too—and at that, I glance around me again.
"Calm yourself, little one." Daddy gives me an impatient look. "They'll be here any minute."
I pull out the lemon-flavored lollipop from my mouth and offer my best pout in return. "I'm sorry, Daddy."
"No, you're not." He snorts and flags down Liam for another tonic water. "But you will be." With a tug on one of my pigtails, he smirks wickedly, making me squirm.
My butt is still tender from this morning when he told me Oliver and Jackson weren't allowed in the club. I was a brat; I even cussed at him, so out came the belt. Then he'd said that if I'm a really good girl, he might reward me by letting my kittens stay up in his office while we're here. "But it's not going to become a habit," he'd warned. "It's only when you've been good for a long time."
Looking down at my violet baby-doll dress, I sulk in silence and curse myself for behaving badly. I absently play with the lacy, white hem, and I wonder how I can make it up to him—
Daddy nudging me gently causes me to look up at him, and he nods at something behind me. I follow his gaze and stiffen in excitement as I see Mark walking in with Evangeline and Brayden.
As always when Mark's not tending the bar, he's in his black, well-worn leathers, boots, and a form-fitting T-shirt. Brayden's only wearing silk boxers and pair of black slippers, and Evangeline is in her nearly see-through lingerie set with furry trim, kitty ears, and ballet flats. Standard getups for Mark's subs—always in silky black. And while I prefer pastels for myself, black is really sexy on those three.
Turning to Daddy again, I suck my bottom lip into my mouth, still ashamed because of earlier. I don’t even have the guts to ask if I can greet my friends. But I'm lucky, because Daddy takes pity on me, pecks me softly, and tells me to go over there.
"Thank you so, so much!" I hop off the barstool and hug him tightly. "I love you, Daddy—"
"No running with this one." He takes my lollipop from my hand. "I'll keep it here. Off you go." He sends me off with a kiss and a light smack to my bottom.
I swiftly make my way through the groupings of people near the bar and the closest seating area, and then I'm met with Evangeline's radiant smile as she spots me.
"Hi!" I come to a stop right in front of them and peer up at Mark's amused expression. "Permission to hug your sub, Master Cooper?"
He permits me with a dip of his chin. "Granted."
Squealing, I throw my arms around Evangeline, and she hugs me back tightly. Then I start to ramble about my Christmas, about Mexico, about Oliver and Jackson, and how I wanna know about her own holidays; I also comment on the beautiful highlights she's added to her hair, just a shade lighter than her natural chestnut brown, and—
"Take a breath, honey." Mark chuckles at me.
I inhale deeply, then exhale and smile sheepishly. "I've just missed you guys." Peering over at Brayden, I wave shyly, 'cause it's different with him. Mark has him on a leash, a real one, and Brayden is the happiest when only Evangeline and Mark are close. He's quiet and soft-spoken, funny too, but at Switch, he's always in a scene.
He smiles back, a dimple denting his cheek, and then he lowers his gaze to the floor. His dark, wavy surfer boy-like hair falls forward a bit, shielding his pale green eyes.
He looks happy.
"Did Mr. Ford allow you to bring Jackson and Oliver?" Evangeline asks, hopeful.
I jut out my bottom lip. "No. I asked nicely—" Two firm hands clamp down on my shoulders, and I am in so much trouble. "Eeek." I let out a squeak as I look up to see Daddy.
His mouth is pressed thin in displeasure, though his eyes reveal mirth. "Are you lying to Master Cooper's pet, Kayla?" Soft voice, but steely and chilled. "Or was I with someone else this morning, because I seem to recall begging and whining."
Mark snickers and folds his arms across his chest. His end of Brayden's leash is looped around his hand. "You biting off a bit more than you can chew, hon?"
"Who is?" And welcome to the show, Cade Kingsley. Both he and Dylan appear behind Mark, who shifts to the side to make room. This is just great. Insert eye-roll. "Little Kayla?" He cocks a pierced brow at me. "And here I was, thinking she's always a good girl."
Daddy lets out a gruff laugh and hugs me from behind. "That’s funny." Oh yeah, a real crack-up. I scowl at the ground in an attempt to hide my flushing cheeks. "Wasn’t that funny, baby girl?" Dipping down, he nips at my neck while his large hands roam my upper thighs, slowly bunching up my already-short dress. "If only Cade knew just how much trouble you could be, huh?"
"Nah, I don’t believe it for a second." Cade smirks in challenge.
"Well, this looks like fun…" Mark grins. "But Evangeline has a date with my new cane." I hadn't noticed it, but now I see his toy bag at his feet. "And Brayden's dying to try a new plug."
Even in the darkness of the club, it's easy to see the fire spreading over Brayden's cheeks, but I remember Evangeline telling me when we spoke on the phone over the holidays that humiliation turns him on.
After wishing us a nice evening—and promising that Evangeline and I can catch up later—Mark steers his subs toward the Cave and the scening stalls there.
"Why don’t we take this to the private booth?" Daddy suggests, and I wish my name for the booth—the Cabana—would catch on. 'Cause it really looks like a cabana! A dark and gothic one, with velvet fabrics hanging down, offering complete seclusion and an erotic atmosphere. It's big, too—eight or nine people would fit. Well, if they're as small as me. Maybe six Nicholas's? "Come on, baby girl." Before I know it, Daddy picks me up and positions me on his hip. "I think you're done running around for tonight."
I squeak and try to pull down my dress, but Daddy clearly doesn’t want that. "I'm not wearing any panties," I whine. "Everyone can see my bottom."
"It's a very gorgeous little bottom." He squeezes it for emphasis, and I wince from the walloping this morning. Daddy laughs, the evil dummy.
With a hmph, I look over his shoulder, then giggle when Dylan crosses his light blue eyes and sticks out his tongue at me. Al
ways the clown. Always the one who demands to see people in a good mood. He recently moved to San Francisco, yet it took no effort at all for him to find his place in our group. He's very outgoing, a people person like me.
Some even think we're siblings, 'cause we share the same reddish brown hair—although his is only a few inches long and shaggy—light blue eyes, and fair skin. But that’s where the similarities stop.
Like Brayden, Dylan has a swimmer's body, but that’s because he actually is a swimmer—a professional one. Wide shoulders, narrow hips, and defined muscles.
Cade seems to like having all that goodness on display, because he's ordered Dylan to only wear baby blue pajama bottoms.
"Here we go." Daddy has my attention again as he pulls the velvet aside and enters the private booth. "You and Dylan can sit over there." He nudges me toward the left corner of the booth while Cade points for Dylan to take the right. "We'll be right back with drinks. And behave, Kayla." Stern look.
"Okay—but, Daddy? May I please have a new lollipop? A strawberry one?" I just love that little addition to the menu, and surprisingly, it was Mark who had thought of it. He does the inventory—and the alcohol and snack orders—being in charge of the bars and all. I thought it was very sweet of him to think of the Littles. However, it's disturbing that he also put ginger root, lemon slices, salt, mint oil, and wasabi on the menu, all parts of chemical play.
Daddy called it genius and added Tabasco.
Evangeline said "ow." Then she probably came.
"We'll see if I'm in a rewarding mood later." Daddy winks, then takes off with a chuckling Cade.
That leaves Dylan and me, surrounded by solid wood, thick velvet, and leather. The small spotlights attached to the wooden posts are dimmed low, so it's not very bright.
"Are you in love with Mr. Kingsley yet?" I get comfortable in my corner and twirl a lock of hair around my finger. "If you say no like you did this weekend, I will call you a liar."
Dylan snickers and pulls up his legs, his arms wrapped around his knees. "Then maybe it's best I don’t speak at all." Just a hint of a drawl. He's a Texas boy, but he grew up mostly on the East Coast. "Not everyone is looking for love, sugar." He reaches forward and tugs on a pigtail.
