My pulse skipped faster, intrigued. “Hmm,” I purred. “Tell me about this ‘more.’”
He chuckled. “If I’m going to use something in a scene—like, say a flogger,” he paused to give time for the memory of last night’s scene to burn through my mind, “I need to understand the flogger completely. What kind of sensation the ends of the tails create versus the middle. How much force to use and where on the body to strike to create different layers. I have to know what it feels like, so I can give my partner the right sensations at the right pace.”
Holy shit.
My breathing went erratic as I figured out what he was saying. To understand how to use the flogger, he’d had to experience it being used on himself. “You scened with Clay.”
He could see how hot the idea made me because he smiled and shook his head. “Don’t get all excited. It was instructional. I like pleasure, not pain, plus I’m not submissive. I wasn’t sure at the time, thinking maybe I was a switch, but that first session cleared it right up for me.”
Meaning he wasn’t interested in switching roles between being a scene top and bottom. He was completely dominant.
I was dying inside at picturing Travis under Clay’s command. Had he been restrained while Clay demonstrated all the sensations the different implements could give? The bite of the clamps? The sting of the paddle?
The pure fire of the cane?
I was so turned on, it was uncomfortable, but I pretended I wasn’t affected. “How many sessions have you done?”
“Two. After the second one, he started to pull away.” His gaze darted away for a moment, then returned to me. “Maybe he felt like he’d shown me as much as he could, but then I got a call from him out of the blue.” He moved subtly closer. “He told me to go to the club that night because he’d be there, and he was bringing someone he wanted me to meet.”
I sucked in a breath at the memory.
But his reaction wasn’t the same as mine because his expression twisted with displeasure. “He said I wasn’t allowed to speak to you until he’d introduced us, which if you remember . . .”
“He didn’t.”
“Nope. It’s why I was pissed when the scene was over and he made me leave. He didn’t give me any feedback that night either. I didn’t know what to think. For the three of us to have this amazing experience together, and then to have him act like it had no chance of happening again . . . I was so confused. He wouldn’t even tell me your name.”
“Because he’s so private?” I guessed.
“Yeah, I thought it was a trust issue.” His mood suddenly lightened. “But a week later he called, apologized, and explained the situation. You were a new submissive, I was a new dom looking for experience, and he’d been enjoying guiding me. We could all get something from this arrangement he was suggesting.” He smiled. “Once again, it was an easy yes.”
I knew I shouldn’t say it, because I liked him, and it would be better if I didn’t like him. It felt as if there were a time limit on our relationship and admitting my feelings would be pushing the start button on the clock. But it was unavoidable. “I’m glad you said yes.”
He leaned close, tilting his head down so his mouth hovered right over mine. “Me too.”
Our kiss wasn’t long, but it contained so much passion, I was buzzing in its aftermath. He was too, although his was literal. I had a hand on his hip and felt the phone vibrate in his pocket.
He checked the email and visibly brightened.
“Good news?” I asked.
“Yeah. One of the trainers giving me an update on a ring-tailed lemur. Jasmina’s twenty-two, which means she’s nearing the end of her life, and we’ve been battling this lingering infection. It’s been resistant to everything I’ve tried so far.” He pocketed his phone and looked relaxed. “But the new medication seems to be working. She ate all of her food and has been more active today.”
“Oh, that is good.”
He smiled like he was recalling a memory. “She’s a handful. Lemurs are female-dominant and Jasmina’s the matriarch of the troop, so I’m sure she’s anxious to get back on exhibit and keep everyone in line.”
“How long do lemurs usually live?”
“In captivity? Between twenty to twenty-five years. She’s a special girl, but I don’t know how much longer she’ll have a good quality of life. It’s been hard watching her struggle with this stubborn infection.”
“I get the feeling,” I said softly, “you’re especially close with her.”
His eyes read guilty as charged. “Jasmina was my first patient when I took up my residency at the zoo, and you know what they say. You always remember your first.”