Two for Alex

“Here she is,” she heard someone call behind her. Alex whipped around, feeling her face heat. “We thought you had flown the coop,” Liam said, grinning down at her. Daniel appeared behind him, frowning slightly.

“I hope you don’t think I was snooping. I couldn’t help but admire the beautiful flowers and lawn.” She turned back to the window, drawn in spite of herself. “The play of color and light—the subtle geometric designs created by the placement of the gardens—it’s like looking at a fine work of art.”

She looked back at the two men, both of whom were now smiling. “Alex,” Liam said with a laugh. “You couldn’t have picked a better way to break the ice with Daniel if you tried. Come on into the living room and let’s talk.”

~*~

The three of them settled in the living room, Liam and Daniel on the large sofa with Alex across from them in a wing-backed reading chair. She was perched on the edge of her seat, her hands folded demurely in her lap, her bare legs crossed at the ankle. She was wearing a turquoise blue sundress with spaghetti straps, the material something silky and feminine.

Her skin seemed silky as well, a soft pink lightly kissed by the sun, supple over her collarbone and the hollow at her throat. Her breasts were high and round, the nipples hinting through the sheer fabric. Her hair was cut in layers so it hung in sheets of butterscotch yellow and gold, the longish bangs falling over her large green eyes.

There was a certain strength in her face and the set of her jaw. She reminded Liam of some kind of fairy sprite—small and pixyish with the look of the devil in her eyes. If they were to take her on, she’d be a handful.

“Well, Alex,” he said pleasantly, aware she was nervous. Daniel seemed nervous beside him as well. He was out of his ken, clearly less comfortable with the idea of bringing a woman into their lives than Liam was. Liam had had his share of female lovers.

He liked the soft sweetness of a woman—so different from the hard-muscled intensity he craved with a man. He’d never been in love with a woman, however. He supposed that was what truly defined a person’s orientation—whom one connected with, whom one fell in love with.

He glanced at Daniel, his face softening into a smile as he did so. Daniel, perhaps feeling his eyes on him, met his glance. Gently Liam put his hand over Daniel’s, hoping the love he felt showed in his face. Daniel smiled back and relaxed beside him.

Turning again to the young woman, Liam said, “I’m sorry for what must have seemed like a pretty lukewarm welcome. We expected a man, as you’ve no doubt gathered. But we’re open to the idea of a female submissive. Tell us, what is it you’re looking for, exactly?”

She leaned forward, her expression earnest. “I want to learn what it is to submit to a real Master. With straight guys, at least in my experience, they’re too easy to manipulate. I’m never really sure if they’re just playing along for the sex. It occurred to me that a gay man might be the right Master for me. He could take me beyond the purely sexual to something different.” She paused, as if gathering her thoughts. “I’m not really sure how to describe what I mean.”

“You want a man who can take you where you really need to go, not just where you want to go. To that submissive place inside of us where sex is no longer the object but merely a vehicle—just one more way to serve the Master who owns you, who possesses your soul.” Daniel spoke softly.

“Yeah,” Alex breathed, staring at him with a rapturous expression. “That’s it exactly. I want that. To serve, to submit. I’ve never done that. Not really.”

“You’ve no experience, then?” Liam asked. He wasn’t interested in a total newbie, however intriguing she might be. “This is all a fantasy for you?”

“Oh, I’ve got plenty of experience in the scene, if that’s what you mean. A while back I even joined a BDSM organization, complete with meetings and elected officials. I thought maybe I could meet a real Dom there.” She flashed an impish grin. “Wasn’t for me. I guess I really don’t like organized anything. Maybe that’s why I’m a writer—I can do it alone.”

She uncrossed her ankles and leaned forward, her expression earnest. “I’ve dated guys who claimed they were Doms but were really more interested in being admired. I even lived—briefly—with a man I thought might be able to give me what I craved. I can take a whipping, I love being bound and I adore sex.” Again she flashed a wide, infectious grin that made both men smile back.