by Cathryn Cade
Daisy burst out laughing. “Carlie.” She snorted, not even trying to control her mirth. “You are so funny. You’re gonna do fine. And you’re gonna love it. Honestly, how anyone can be as sexy and gorgeous as you and not see it, I will never understand.”
“Really?” Carlie looked down at herself, forgetting what she’d even put on that morning. Oh, right, her navy-and-white-striped sundress with the red bow in front, with her hair up in a French twist. Her mother called this her Barbie dress. She’d waxed nostalgic about the doll she’d had when she was young, who wore a dress just like it. Carlie curled her lip—her mother probably still thought Barbie had the perfect figure, even though it was anatomically impossible.
Carlie’s Barbies had worn glitter tops and capris. Her Ken doll wore jeans and a faux leather jacket and rode a motorcycle on which he’d taken Barbie to the lake and to imaginary ’N Sync concerts.
Kind of weird that Carlie had gone retro like her Mom’s doll. Of course, one couldn’t very well wear glitter tops to work, even if they were sexy. Come to think of it, she didn’t own any glitter tops. Maybe it was time. She could wear them to the club, but with a black skirt, because glitter was not going anywhere near her big ass.
“Yes, really, girlfriend. You’ve got that whole Adele thing going on with your flawless skin, and all that hair and your curves. Except you’re thinner than her.”
“Yeah, and I can’t sing a lick.” Adele, seriously? The woman was gorgeous. “Besides, she lost weight after having her baby.”
“Well, there’s that. But the guys all think you’re the bomb—Dack, Trace and Jake think you’re smart and funny and cool. And gorgeous.”
“Oh.” They’d said that? Wowser.
“So you signed up,” Daisy added. “Yay! I’m so happy.”
“I was, but now I’m just scared,” Carlie said. “Not sure I can swim a lick either.”
Daisy chuckled wickedly. “Have I got a swim instructor for you, honey.”
“Jake?” Carlie whispered, her insides going soft.
“Mm-hmm.”
Carlie smiled to herself, tongue between her teeth. She checked quickly for eavesdroppers. “I, um, talked with him.” She shared her debacle with Gerry and about how Jake had comforted her.
“Okay, I’m too mad to even say I told you so,” Daisy fumed. “Is that little creep at work today? Do you have to look at him while you try to do your job?”
“No, he’s out sick. And the other guys have been really sweet, so I think they aren’t comfortable with what he said, even though they laughed at the time because they were drunk.”
“Well, I hope they fire him. And I’m glad Jake was there for you. Hey, maybe Jake went over there and kicked his sorry ass all the way to Canada. That’s what Dack would’ve done if he knew about it. He probably still would if you want him to.”
“Nice fantasy, but I don’t want anyone getting arrested for me, thanks.”
“Well, back to Club 3,” Daisy said. “This coming Saturday is leather night, but you could just wear a cute dress, since it’s your first time. Or we could go shopping.”
“Oh, Dais, I don’t know that I’m ready for Kiss Me, Kink Me.”
“Hey, you shopped there for me,” Daisy reminded her. “Now it’s your turn. And I’ll be nice, I’ll let you pick something to wear over your thong.”
Carlie gulped. “But I, um, haven’t done anything wrong.”
When Daisy needed Dack’s forgiveness after blowing up at him unjustly, Carlie and Sara had given her a black lace thong from the exclusive sex shop and told her to wear it when she apologized. It had worked extremely well—so well they were now an exclusive couple.
Daisy snickered. “You don’t always have to do anything. Believe me, doms are great at coming up with reasons to punish a sub. Of course, the punishment can be more fun than anything else.” She made a happy purring sound in her throat.
Carlie grabbed a folder and fanned herself with it. “Oh my gosh, can’t discuss this anymore right now, or I am going to have to go out and run through a sprinkler, and they’re only on at night around here.”
“Gotcha. Feeling the need for a drink of ice water myself. But we do need to talk more. Let’s have supper on Wednesday, okay? Dragonwell Bistro.”
“Oh, you know just how to tempt me, you evil woman.” The Asian café in downtown Portland was one of Carlie’s favorites.
“‘Course I do. But I’ve also got your back, sweetie.”
“I know. Thanks.” Carlie smiled into her phone.
“Hey, I owe you big-time. You talked me down when I thought Dack had cheated on me. I just want you to try the club and see if it can help you experience this freedom I’ve found. It’s a sexual revolution, baby. Kiss kiss, bang bang.”
Carlie laughed. “Right. I’ll call Sara, see if she can make supper.”
“No, she’s in Salem this week, remember? Some teacher-training seminar.”
“Oh, right. We’ll have to get together when she’s back. Later, girlfriend.”
Carlie put her phone away, feeling much calmer. She didn’t want, erm, quite the same freedom Daisy experienced at the club, but she wouldn’t mind some of it, anyway. Geez, just the thought of taking her clothes off in front of other people made her hyperventilate. The thought of doing actual sex stuff in front of others—yikes! Although, if she was with Jake, she’d be so proud, she’d want everyone to know she was with him. But them knowing afterward would be just fine, not during.
Most of all, she just wanted Jake—the whole big, hard package. And if that meant letting him control the situation, she was more than okay with that. He might be the epitome of Mr. Ice-Cool Marine, but she’d bet he harbored a volcano of passion beneath those muscles. And she wanted to make him blow…or did she mean blow him? Because, speaking of packages, she’d seen his in the Levis he wore all the time when he wasn’t at the gym, and he had a big one.
Snickering, Carlie picked up the folder and fanned herself again. Jake Unleashed, that was what she wanted. If nothing else, the conversation had taken her mind off the whole bridesmaid thing.
“All right, folks, meeting time,” Gigi called from the door of the conference room. “Bring those ideas and let’s get started.”
Carlie put down the folder and rose, tucking away her personal ideas for later. She took a calming breath, smoothed her full cotton skirts down and followed the others dutifully into the conference room.
The meeting went quickly as EbiTeck meetings always did, with ideas coming fast and furious, arguments and jokes flying back and forth across the big table, along with crumpled balls of paper when the geeks disagreed with a colleague’s remarks.
Martin, being a geek himself, ignored their antics, striding around the room like a scraggy blond Lincoln, albeit in rumpled short-sleeved shirt and slacks, while Carlie made sure the voice-recognition software and touch-screen note-taking system were interfacing with the computers to record everything.
At lunchtime, Carlie grabbed a deli sandwich and some fresh veggies before the guys could empty the trays, stowed her lunch in her desk for later, put on her sunglasses and escaped outside into the fresh air. She wore red espadrille-style sandals with a small platform, comfortable for walking. Since it was hot, she stuck to the shade under the trees.
EbiTeck had taken over the campus of a small college that had moved to a larger space. The builders had done a great job of keeping the old trees and traditional feel, while remodeling buildings for the specialized wiring and work spaces needed. Carlie enjoyed coming to work, not only because she liked her job, but because she worked in a beautiful place.
She walked briskly around the campus on the paved walking path, ending up back at the building, where she vacillated between going back inside or continuing her walk. However, as she remembered her new Club 3 membership, her feet began moving again almost of their own volition.
Geez, just the thought of Jake seeing her in her new kink-wear and then without it made her feel wei
rd—happy and so excited her knees quivered, but also scared spitless.
Despite his fierce words that evening at Zellaby’s, what if Tiffany was right? What if she was too fat? What if, when she was nude before him, Jake looked at her hips and thighs and the slight pooch of her stomach, which she still had even though she’d firmed up and lost a dress size since she joined Big Iron Fitness and started working out with Sara as her coach, and he thought, Eww, she is kind of gross? What then? She’d curl up and die, that’s what.
She did two more laps, only stopping when her sandals started to rub the back of her heels and perspiration trickled down her cleavage. She stepped into the air-conditioned building with a sigh of relief. Someone really needed to make underwire bras in cotton, styles to be worn with nice clothing, instead of assuming every cotton bra should be an industrial-strength sports bra.
She planned a visit to the gym after work. She’d do extra reps on her workout. Or she could just hit the FG Meyer deli and drown her worries in deli pizza and Jell-O parfait. No, no, down girl. That was the old Carlie. The new Carlie understood the bennies of exercise instead of chewing.
Her stomach growled loudly as she walked back into the office.
Monica, the EbiTeck receptionist who looked like a model and had the personality of a pit bull, raised one of her perfect brows in disdain and then went back to her computer. Shopping at Nordstrom’s, Carlie saw with a glance at the other woman’s computer screen. Probably for clothing in size minus-three. Monica might be nicer if she ate chocolate once in a while.
Carlie got that many women were thin not by choice but because they just could not put on weight, and that this caused them distress. And that didn’t even touch all those who went to bed hungry. She felt for them, but not for the Monicas who took dieting too far and then looked down their noses at other women with more pounds on.
She pictured Monica shopping instead for vinyl fetish wear at Kiss Me, Kink Me. Then donning it and kneeling at Jake’s feet, begging for him to do her, but he just shook his head, scowling in disgust. Yeah, and then he beckoned to Carlie with that little smile in his eyes, and she stepped right over Monica and walked away with him, leaving the receptionist and would-be sub throwing a tantrum on the floor, kicking her skinny little arms and legs.
With a smile, Carlie sauntered into the small office kitchen, took a bottle of unsweetened iced tea from the fridge, then took it to her desk and ate her sandwich, chewing slowly and enjoying the flavors of chipotle mayo, turkey, paper-thin provolone, lettuce and tomato piled into a sourdough bun. The veggies were cucumber and sugar snap pea pods, her favorite. Some of the kettle potato chips that had been offered would be tasty, but since they weren’t right in front of her, she was not tempted to go in search of them.
A single See’s chili-chocolate truffle from the stash in her bottom desk drawer, and she was ready for the afternoon. Screw size three, and screw Tiffany and Monica; she was healthy and happy.
And she’d keep telling herself that until she believed it.
When Daisy invited her to come downtown for a light supper at Dragonwell, Carlie looked forward to Asian food and time with her friend in one of her favorite places, downtown Portland. She wore one of her favorite sundresses, a boat-neck shift in pale blush pink with olive-green leaves patterning the fabric, olive sandals and a pink leather slouch bag. Daisy wore a black tank and white capris, with a red slouch bag and sandals, sunglasses perched on her short blonde hair.
But having fielded a phone message from her mother while she waited, the weight of sadness and self-doubt had once again settled on Carlie’s shoulders. She sat up straight in her chair, sucking in her tummy but feeling fat anyway.
As always, Daisy’s sunny smile and warm hug made her feel better, but when they’d ordered and had plates of exquisite sushi rolls and hot appetizers in front of them, Carlie pushed her food around on her plate and watched Daisy eat. Carlie looked away, unable to bear the sight of her friend’s lovely, trim figure.
“What’s wrong?” The soft question was followed by Daisy leaning over their tiny table, her hand on Carlie’s arm. She peered into Carlie’s face. “You’re not eating, and this is your favorite place. Spill it, girlfriend.”
Daisy was right; Dragonwell was her favorite. She loved the beautifully arranged food, the piquant flavors and the small portions, so she could try lots of different tastes without being tempted to pig out.
Carlie took a shaky breath and started to blame it on the summer heat, but instead found herself pouring out her mother’s news about Seth and Tiffany’s wedding and the bridesmaid gown. She hadn’t meant to share this, feeling it was whiny, immature, and her friends were already supporting her through her entry into kink. But Daisy had a way of pulling information out of her.
As expected, Daisy went ballistic. “That bitch,” she breathed. “I will…take…her…down.”
Carlie snorted, amused in spite of her misery. “Been reading motorcycle-chick romances again?”
“I’m serious. No one talks to my best friend that way. Give me your phone—I’m calling her right now.”
Carlie fended off Daisy’s efforts to grab her bag, hanging from her chair. “No,” she said, but she was laughing now. “That would just make it worse.”
Daisy sat back, but she did it with her hands on her hips. “I guess. Anyway, it’s not true, so forget her. And your mom—honestly, Car? I know the woman means well, but she’s so full of it. You are beautiful, drop-dead gorgeous, just the way you are.” She gazed into Carlie’s face, her green eyes sad. “It kind of…hurts my heart that you can’t see that.”
Carlie smiled, her own heart swelling with a sweet pain. She could tell her friend really meant it. “Thanks, Dais. Um, that’s what Jake said.”
“What?” Daisy’s eyes widened. “He did? When, where, etcetera—give!”
“We had supper together. By accident, but still…” Carlie told Daisy about their impromptu meeting.
Daisy nodded, her eyes bright. “Whoa, now this is progress.”
“Then he said he’d heard I joined. And he said he’d see me there.”
Daisy did a little dance in her chair, arms over her head, circling her hips like a stripper. “Oh yeah. Oh yeah. So let’s find you something totally hot to wear.”
Carlie rolled her eyes and bit back a giggle as two guys who were just walking in caught sight of Daisy’s antics. Their faces lighting up, they made a beeline for the empty table next to the two women. Daisy didn’t even notice them, and Carlie looked away when one of them smiled at her, biting back a grin. Little did the two slender urbanites know the competition they were up against. Dack and Jake could bench-press these two and then tie them in pretzel knots just for fun.
Jake, who liked her just the way she was. She looked at her plate, then picked up a tiny, crispy spring roll, dipped it in dark, sweet sauce and popped it in her mouth, chewing with relish.
After supper, they walked up the street to Nordstrom’s. The shoe department was fabulous and worthy of hushed respect. Their conversation was limited mainly to utterances such as “Ooh, look at these”. They found a pair of bright yellow platforms for Daisy and pink flowered flats for Carlie, which she bought, as they were on sale. They were still expensive, but everyone knew marked-down items at Nordstrom’s went fast. Then the clerk gave her an extra ten percent off for some promotion, so that was even better.
After that they rode the escalators up to look at clothing. Carlie looked with interest at a rack of markdowns, but Daisy frowned.
“Girlfriend, this occasion calls for something more than Nordstrom’s.”
Carlie blinked at this. “What could possibly come after Nordstrom’s?”
Unless it was Anthroplogie, but since she knew Daisy could no more afford to shop there than she could, she was puzzled.
A wicked look in her green eyes, Daisy leaned closer. “Kiss Me, Kink Me.”
Chapter Ten
Carlie had been in Portland’s exclusive fetish-
wear shop before with Sara, a visit during which they’d both looked around in awe, at times biting back giggles when they caught each other’s eye over a particularly outrageous item or ensemble. That had been fun, and they’d purchased Daisy the black lace thong which she’d worn for Dack, to great effect. Despite the success of that trip, Carlie didn’t plan to shop here for herself.
Now Carlie stared at the racks of dresses and other garments, her stomach in a knot. She took a step back, and bumped into Daisy, who was rummaging enthusiastically through a selection of bustiers.
“I don’t know, Dais,” she murmured. “I don’t think I can pull off any of these.”
Daisy bumped her with an elbow. “Oh, I think Jake will take care of that for you.”
Carlie rolled her eyes, her cheeks heating as her friend snickered at her own joke. “You know what I mean. They’re so…tiny.”
“Hmm.” Daisy moved to her side, sliding one dress aside and then another.
They stood in the midst of racks of all kinds of skimpy clothing. The small boutique was carpeted and painted a soft gray with silver and ebony highlights, the better to showcase the merchandise, frankly sexual and ranging from elegant to outrageous.
“What about this one?” Daisy held up a little black dress with an interesting gather between the breasts, held by a sequined brooch.
Carlie snorted. “Like that’s going to fit me.”
“Well, you’re going to try it.” Daisy thrust the dress at Carlie and grabbed two more, one red and another black. “And these. Now come on.”
Frowning, Carlie followed as the smaller blonde made her way through the racks of Lycra, glitter and what looked like very uncomfortable vinyl. Yeesh, some of these ensembles looked like they’d pinch a woman’s body in half. She took a deep breath in sympathy, just looking at a heavy leather corset with an impossibly small waist.
“What if Jake wants me to wear stuff like that?” she muttered.
Daisy cast her a teasing look as she paused before one of the dressing cubicles, the curtain held back by a pair of ornate jeweled handcuffs. “Then you’re about to enter a whole new chapter of your life, girlfriend.”
