Shayla nodded.
“When I need a little more structure as a mental break, he slips into a dominant role with me. Usually in bed or in play, not as an everyday thing the way he is a Master and Owner to Cris.”
“What about Cris and you?”
Her gaze returned to her glass of iced tea. “I don’t top him. I…just can’t. I can’t bring myself to do it. Sometimes in bed I let him get toppy with me, but not as a scene. I can count on him in ways that both fulfill his need to be of service as a slave, and his need to take care of me like a Dominant might, and my need to be taken care of without bringing a D/s dynamic into it. Make sense?”
Shayla pulled her glasses off and rubbed her eyes. “Not really, no.”
Leah laughed. “Don’t worry. We’ve known them for years and it still throws the rest of us off at times. Labels don’t work with them. We don’t expect you to understand it all in one lunch.”
Clarisse snorted. “I guess I have it easy. I’m submissive to both my guys. Mac’s the switchy one, although Sully lets Mac get toppy with him on the boat. As long as I keep saying, ‘Yes, Sir,’ everything’s good.”
Leah jumped in to change the subject. Sort of. “I saw you’re coming to our shibari class on Saturday.”
“Yes. And the Whips for Fun class before that.”
“Oh! Tony teaches that.”
“That’s what he said Saturday night.”
“Busy day,” Leah said. “Will you stay for the play session later? Come to dinner with us.”
“Sure. Why not? Not like I have any other plans.”
“Watch out,” Clarisse playfully warned. “This is how we suck you in to the dark side. With rope and whips.”
“And good cookies,” Tilly added.
Chapter Eleven
They spent the day in Tarpon Springs with Clarisse, shopping and talking and even catching a late lunch before heading back to Loren’s house around four. She spent time working on her notes about the day before she grabbed a shower.
The things they’d talked about wouldn’t leave her mind. How happy each of the women seemed in their relationships. Sure, Tilly had a slightly different dynamic than the others, but she was happy. By her own admission, happier than she’d ever been in her life.
And it felt damn good to have a group of women she could open up to and not worry about them judging her for what she did by forgiving James and giving him a second chance, and then not having him prosecuted the second time.
She liked Kimberly and Suzanne, but despite knowing Kimberly was a little wilder than Suzanne, she still didn’t feel…well, totally comfortable opening up to them the way she was with these women. Shayla didn’t want anything she said to accidentally make its way around the office.
After the good day she had with Loren, Leah, Tilly, and Clarisse, she wanted more than ever to do more than just talk about BDSM.
She wanted to experience it.
After waffling about it for nearly an hour, she called Tony a little before eight o’clock and was pleasantly surprised when he answered instead of his voice mail.
“Hello, Shayla.”
“I hope it’s not too late to call.”
“No. What’s up?”
She took a deep breath and took the plunge. “I know this is short notice, but are you available tomorrow night to get together for dinner or something and talk again?”
There was a moment of hesitation she was positive meant no, but then he surprised her. “Sure. How about someplace other than Village Inn?”
It was one of the few places she actually knew in the area. “Oh. Okay. Sure. Wherever you’d like.”
He named the restaurant and she wrote it down. When she hung up with him a few minutes later, she realized her hands were trembling.
Crap.
She spent another restless night with sexy dreams of Tony and his green eyes running through her brain. The next morning, Bill Melling stopped by her cubicle. “How’d everything go yesterday?”
“Really good. Thank you for letting me go.”
He shrugged. “You need to be able to research.”
“I should have the first article ready by Monday.”
“Good.”
“It’s going to be a long one.”
His smile broadened. “Even better.”
She stopped by home to grab a quick shower and change before heading to the restaurant. There, she stood and fidgeted in the foyer, unable to just sit and wait. When she saw Tony’s car pull in five minutes before their meeting time, she couldn’t deny the little thump in her chest as she watched him smoothly climb out of his car and stride toward the restaurant.
He’s just a guy. He’s just a normal, everyday guy.
Who’s now haunting my dreams.
She felt heat rise in her cheeks and pressed her palms against them to try to rid herself of the embarrassing flush before he walked in.
His eyes met hers through the glass door as he reached out to push it open. Unable to help it, her gaze dropped to her feet for a moment before she looked up again. He wore a friendly smile and extended his hand.
She’d reached out to hug him, and they did the awkward hug-handshake dance before settling on a hug. “Nice to see you again,” he said. “Glad we didn’t scare you away last weekend.”
“Everyone’s been really nice. That’s why I want to make sure I write the best story possible. I don’t want anyone getting the wrong impression about what you all do. I want to make sure I’m accurate.”
He held out his arm, indicating for her to go first, and they approached the hostess stand. He held up two fingers and they were led to a booth.
Once settled, with their drink orders placed, he leaned back in his seat and smiled at her. “So what did you want to talk about tonight?”
Tony admitted his curiosity had run overtime after her phone call the night before. Over the phone Shayla sounded more timid than ever, a woman wanting to ask something and apparently afraid to spit it out. He’d found her discomfort amusing and endearing.
Not to mention the sadist in him got a little twist out of it in the bargain.
He knew she’d spent the day before with Leah, Loren, Tilly, and Clarisse. He wouldn’t be nosy and ask what they talked about, but he couldn’t help wondering if her call to him was a result of it.
She laced her hands together in front of her on the table, her eyes trained on them. When she spoke, her voice sounded so soft he had to sit forward to hear her.
“You said you’ve trained submissives before,” she said.
He slowly nodded and folded his arms on the table in front of him. “Yes?”
“And you teach, too? I mean, I know you teach the whip class, but you teach other stuff.”
“Yes?”
“How much do you charge?”
He thought maybe he’d misheard her. “I don’t understand.”
She still wouldn’t look at him. “How much do you charge to train a submissive?”
“I don’t.”
That forced her gaze up to his before it dropped to her hands again. “But I thought you said—”
“When I train a submissive, it’s because myself and the person have reached a mutual agreement to pursue that. That’s personal, not a business transaction. I’ve never charged to train a submissive. I don’t hire myself out to do that. Now, I’ve taught private sessions on technique with rope bondage, whips, that sort of thing. But the relationship between a Dominant and their submissive is a personal one. At least, it is for me. I know there are people out there who claim to make a business out of training submissives and slaves, but I’m not one of them. What I do in my personal life is for pleasure. The only reason I even accept money for my classes is to cover expenses and time, not to make a profit.”