More than a Dare (Masters Club 4)

He lifted his glass and the women followed suit. “To new friends and new understanding.”

Naomi took up Hayden’s subtle invitation. “I’m glad you said that, Hayden. Since I don’t have a lot of time, I’ll just get right to it. Though I recognize I’m just on the outside, looking in, I’m really uncomfortable with what I saw the other night at spin class. I know you guys are both okay with it, but Dahlia is my best friend. We’ve always looked out for each other. I don’t want to see her hurt—in any way.”

“Naomi,” Dahlia warned, placing a hand on her friend’s arm. Naomi had always been direct, to a fault.

In the past, she’d always appreciated Naomi’s constructive criticism regarding her sometimes-questionable choices in the dating department. They both had each other’s back in that way, and many a late night had been pleasurably spent in their tiny dorm room, dissecting and analyzing every aspect of their latest crushes.

But they weren’t kids anymore, and Hayden wasn’t just some random guy. While she recognized Naomi’s intentions were good, she didn’t really owe her any explanations. Was this the moment she would be forced to choose between her longtime friend and her new lover?

“No, it’s okay.” Hayden placed his hand lightly on Dahlia’s knee.

He turned to Naomi, not a trace of defensiveness in either his tone or his demeanor. “Dahlia mentioned your discomfort with what you saw in the locker room the other day. And I get it. In a world where trauma and abuse are all too common, it’s easy to see where BDSM might raise some red flags for you. Maybe you view BDSM as perpetuating unbalanced gender dynamics. Or perhaps as an unhealthy form of reenacting some past trauma. Or, on an even more basic level, nothing more than a justification to force someone to act against their will.”

Naomi nodded. “No offense, but yes, yes, and yes.”

Dahlia stiffened, but Hayden just smiled. “You’re not alone. There’s a lot of misconception out there about the lifestyle, popular culture notwithstanding.”

He took a sip of his bourbon. Was he really as calm as he seemed, or just a very good actor?

He leaned toward Naomi, his expression growing serious, though his tone remained gentle. “First of all, BDSM is most emphatically not a license to inflict injury. While there are some idiots out there who don’t know what they’re doing, a responsible Dom educates him- or herself to avoid any unintentional harm. You’ve probably heard the term, ‘safe, sane and consensual’ in reference to BDSM play. Obviously, that’s a moving target, based on individual preferences and tolerance levels.”

“Yeah, I’ve heard of it,” Naomi said. “But I don’t care how fast that target is moving, what I saw the other night wasn’t okay.”

Hayden cocked a brow. “I noticed you have a tattoo of a butterfly on the back of your neck. It’s very pretty.”

Naomi’s hand moved to the nape of her neck. “Uh, thanks?” She made it a question, clearly confused by what seemed to be a non sequitur.

Dahlia, who had seen Hayden in action during rounds with med students, was familiar with his Socratic ways. She saw where he was going, even if Naomi didn’t yet.

“You allowed someone to pierce you repeatedly with a needle,” he continued, “leaving behind ink that’s permanently embedded in your skin. Correct me if I’m wrong, but according to Jewish law, isn’t that considered a desecration of the body, and therefore not okay?”

“But that’s different,” Naomi retorted. “I’m not religious. It’s my body. I can do what I want to it.”

“Exactly,” Hayden agreed calmly. “Your body, your choice. Dahlia’s body, her choice.”

To her credit, Naomi didn’t bristle or sputter that it wasn’t the same thing. She actually looked thoughtful now, rather than determined to prove him wrong.

Without belaboring the point, Hayden continued, “I actually practice something called RACK—an acronym for risk-aware consensual kink. It’s more intense than the light bondage and casual impact play you might see at public clubs or acted out in movies. And yes, my kind of intensive play does sometimes result in welts, bruises and the like.”

Naomi winced. But then her hand fluttered again to her tattoo. Dahlia could almost see the thought bubble over her head.

I allowed someone to pierce me repeatedly with a needle. They drew blood. It hurt like hell, but I wanted it.

Hayden leaned forward as he completed his point. “The key, always, is informed consent. Boundaries and limits are discussed and negotiated in advance. Even then, the sub always has a safeword to stop the action at any time with no judgment or reprisal.”

“Okay,” Naomi said slowly. “I get it, sort of. You guys are into this and who am I to judge?” She held out her hands, palms up. “But I’m sorry, I still can’t get my head around the idea of a man hitting a woman and leaving bruises behind. I don’t care how you package that, it just seems wrong.”