focus on how much her chest hurt and how hollow she felt inside.
She should leave. There was no way she could stay and work on the puzzle now. Sit at a table and pretend everything was okay. It would hurt too much. Hell, it already hurt just being in the same room with him. She pushed back her chair and mumbled something about leaving.
“Lynne,” he said, but she refused to look his way. “Lynne, look at me.”
She lifted her head.
“Don’t go.” He reached for her hand. “I said that because one day is already here. It’s been here all along.”
Her breath caught in her throat. Did that mean . . . ?
“I love you, too, Lynne.” He pressed a kiss in the palm of her hand. “I thought once before I was doing the honorable and decent thing by letting you go. I was wrong. The honorable and decent thing is always love.”
He stood up and pulled her to her feet, not seeming to mind the tear that escaped and trailed down her cheek. “And with that love, I have a feeling the universe doesn’t stand a chance against us.”
Chapter Twelve
The bass echo of the song currently playing in Luke’s club was so loud the walls vibrated with each beat. It didn’t help that the place was unusually crowded for a Tuesday night. There were so many people, Lynne momentarily considered telling Simon she wanted to reschedule. She knew he would accommodate the request. In fact, he’d told her they didn’t even have to do the scene.
But she wanted to go ahead with it, and she knew that’s what Simon wanted, too, so if there were more people around than normal, oh well, she’d just have to deal with it. Public play wasn’t one of her most favorite kinks—she typically enjoyed playing in private—but she told herself to view tonight as an opportunity to stretch herself.
Though she had a feeling the scene itself would be able to do that all on its own.
Tonight—finally, Simon would say—they were going to do a single-tail scene. And though he had never said so, she had the impression that her ability to handle it would further cement their relationship.
“You ready?” Abby asked.
Yeah, she thought, it was a bit odd to have the Wests in attendance, but Simon told her Nathaniel needed to see them in a scene together for his own peace of mind. She agreed, because after December, she’d be moving back to New York to start student teaching and would rarely, if ever, run into them at the club. Daniel and Julie were also in the club somewhere. Cole and Sasha were not. Though Sasha said she thought she’d be fine, Cole put his foot down and said absolutely not.
Lynne took a deep breath and looked for Simon. He was standing by the St. Andrew’s Cross they were going to use, talking to Nathaniel and Luke. His black bag sat ominously by his side on the floor. “I am,” she said. “Just waiting for Simon to give me the signal.”
The man in question looked up, as if he’d heard them talking about him. She knew he hadn’t—it was too loud—but he gave her a wink and held up three fingers. She nodded.
“Three minutes,” she told Abby, and the butterflies began to multiply in her belly.
Abby gave her a quick hug. “You’re going to do great.”
Her mouth was suddenly so dry, she couldn’t talk. Giving Abby a smile in reply, she made her way to where Simon waited for her. She was glad he was already there. She feared if he’d had her show up first, the combination of people watching and the St. Andrew’s Cross might have been enough to scare her away.
No, some inner part of her insisted. Old Lynne might have turned away, but not New Lynne. New Lynne was strong and tough and sexy. It’d take more than a few people watching and a piece of BDSM equipment to scare off New Lynne. She straightened her back, held her head up, and said good-bye to Old Lynne forever.
She came to a stop before Simon, moving to her knees in one fluid movement. “Sir.”
He was not her Master. Not yet anyway. And because of that, he only allowed her to call him Sir. Though she hoped that changed one day.
“Lynne,” he said, sliding a hand through her hair. “You look absolutely fabulous tonight.”
“Thank you, Sir.”
“You’re going to show all these people what a good girl you are, aren’t you?”
“Yes, Sir.” Her hands grabbed her knees. A tap on her shoulder reminded her that was not the way he wanted her hands positioned. She released them and turned them so her palms were up.
“Very nice.” His hand tightened in her hair, and she didn’t try to stop the moan, knowing that unless he specifically told her to be quiet, he wanted to hear her sounds. He said it was because he liked to know he was affecting her.
She’d imagined he’d say something to the people watching or perhaps tell her again what they were doing, but he did neither. From the way he focused on her with that intense look in his eyes, she got the feeling the people watching didn’t exist for him. She decided they wouldn’t exist for her either.
“Stand up and strip for me,” he commanded.
For me. With those two words, he reinforced what his actions whispered. There were only the two of them. No one else mattered.
For him, she would strip. She wouldn’t do it because she was an exhibitionist, because she wasn’t. She wouldn’t do it because she enjoyed showing off, as that had never been her style. She did it because he asked her, and if he asked for something and it was in her power to get or do, she’d get or do it. Pleasing him had become like a high, and she needed a hit.
She stood, only mildly surprised that she didn’t tremble. Looking only at him, she quickly removed her clothes, placing them in a pile on the floor.
He stepped around her in a circle, observing what felt like every inch of her. But he did more than just look; he stroked one arm, then teased a nipple. He came close to whipping her body into a frenzy by barely touching her.
“Do you still want me to use a single tail on you?” he asked.
“Yes, Sir.” She was so ready, and her body swayed a bit in anticipation.
“It’s going to hurt,” he warned her.
“Yes, Sir. I want it like that.”
“Should I go easy on you?”
“God, no, Sir. Please.” Where had that even come from? Hell no, she didn’t want him to go easy on her. If anything, she wanted him to go harder on her. She wanted to prove to him, as well as to herself, that she could take anything he gave her and then some.
“Did I insult you with that question?” he asked.
“No, Sir. You just surprised me.”
“Why?”
“I see no reason why you would want or need to go easy on me. That you felt the need to ask me if I thought you should meant you probably thought I’d at least entertained the idea.”
“Hell,” he said. “I have a lot of work to do if you can speak so eloquently while you’re standing naked in front of me.”
She felt her face flush, and there was a faint giggling from those people gathered around to watch. “Yes, Sir. And I look forward to you leaving me speechless.”
He gave her that easygoing smile that always warmed her heart, but she didn’t miss the hint of desire lurking in his eyes. “Go face the cross, you mouthy sub,” he said, smacking her backside.
Any lightheartedness she felt at their exchange left as soon as she stood in front of the giant wooden X. No matter how jovial she felt, something about being tied up waiting for someone to whip her sobered her right up.
Again, he surprised her by not addressing the gathering crowd. Of course, she decided, this wasn’t a demo, and while it wasn’t exactly private, it was a scene just between the two of them.
“Are you okay?” His voice was so soft she was the only one who heard. His fingers brushed across her shoulder blades, easing tension she didn’t know was there.
“Yes, Sir. So ready.”
One at a time, he took her wrists and bound them above her head. He nudged her feet apart and bound them apart as well. She had a brief moment of panic. He’d never tied all four of her
limbs before.