"Yes. She wants to get to know you better as well. And you can see the wildlife in their natural environment." When she gave a half-laugh at that, he touched her arm. "Come be with us, Gen. I promise you won't be pressured in any way. We respect caution."
She looked down at the connection between their bodies. "If I decide to come, it would probably be at eight."
"Ok. Don't talk yourself out of it. I'll wait at the door from eight to nine, but even if you come later, all you have to do is ask for me up front and I'll come. We're usually there for a good four hours."
She studied the way his forearms overlapped. "You should head for your class. It starts in five minutes."
He touched her chin, but she wouldn't look up. She hadn't kissed him this weekend, she realized. Nor had he pushed that agenda. She found she wanted to taste his lips. But that was way too intimate. The things crowding into her head right now, into her heart, might explode wide open. "I need to go," she said.
His touch withdrew. "All right. I really had a good time this weekend. Thanks for having me."
"Anytime you want to spend a weekend slaving away over home improvement projects, feel free."
He didn't laugh at the weak joke, though he might have smiled. She didn't know, because she kept her head down. He gave her hair a quick stroke.
"Please come this weekend, Gen. I'd like to see you again."
She gave an ambiguous nod. One more light touch, and then he was gone. Lifting her head, she watched him stride away. Some of the students met up with him, started talking. Because of that, as he walked toward the docks, she was able to watch him undisturbed until he passed out of sight. As well as hold onto the sincere urgency in his voice and regret the trace of hurt there she knew she'd caused.
She was a bitch. But her trip down a path less travelled should probably end with this weekend. Her "safe" dose of Noah had been enough to fry her circuits. She should have asked him for a cell number, but she hadn't noticed him carrying a phone, an unusual thing for anyone these days. She could always call the nursery and leave a message that she wasn't coming. If that's what she decided to do.
She tuned back into the present at Tea Leaves. She was already missing him, which was a crazy schoolgirl feeling she hadn't had...well, since she was a schoolgirl.
Chloe had brought one of her fresh pound cakes this morning, as well as strawberry preserves made from the fruits of her garden. When she and Brendan married, they'd decided to give up Brendan's apartment and stay in the house Chloe was renting. They were now on a lease-to-own plan. In a rural area outside Tampa, the run-down cottage surrounded by a wild tangle of nature had always been a good fit for Chloe. Brendan meshed with it the way he meshed with Chloe herself.
That couldn't be as simple as it appeared. How had Chloe, not a Mistress per Noah's description, made it work with a male who was as devoted to the submissive role as Noah himself? She thought of how Noah had adapted to her this weekend. True, it was a limited interaction, and she certainly wasn't a Mistress of Lyda's caliber--she didn't think of herself as a Mistress at all. Yet taking the lead with him had felt so...refreshing. If that was how it worked with Chloe, was that enough for Brendan, or was there more to it?
It didn't really matter, did it? Why was she even thinking about it?
"Earth to Gen..."
Chloe was standing at her side. Her coworker was switching out the teas Gen had put in the brewer, because she'd been about to make the wrong flavor for the morning special. Though Chloe had her trying moments, far more often she picked up on Gen's moods perfectly, like now. Chloe squeezed her hand. "Want some pound cake for breakfast?"
"Love some." They still had about fifteen minutes before opening and everything was ready. Marguerite was in early today, but currently on the phone in her office. Chloe had already parked a piece of the cake at her elbow, along with a cup of Marguerite's preferred morning brew. Now Chloe snagged herself a fork and she and Gen shared a piece while leaning against either side of the counter, something they'd done often enough it was a foregone conclusion they'd split the calories.
It was a good reminder of why Gen felt so accepted here. She shouldn't be doing anything to rock that boat, but that missing-Noah feeling was putting pressure beneath her ribs, making her stomach all swirly.
She should have kissed him. He would have kissed her if she'd lifted her head. Since she'd denied herself that, she'd let herself indulge some idle curiosity along with the pound cake.
"So what do you think is his best skill? I'm just wanting to know some more about him," she qualified. "About...that side of him."
"At the club, we call him the Pussy Whisperer."
Gen choked, set down her fork. "What?"
"Thought that would get you to lighten up." Chloe pressed the tines of her fork against the top of Gen's hand, a gentle tease. "But it is true. Mind you, I haven't experienced it directly. Brendan would absolutely flip."
Chloe beamed at her absent husband's possessiveness. "At first, he tried to be the way he was with other Mistresses before me. Like whatever, whoever I wanted, it was all the same to him, but he left that bullshit behind pretty fast. Especially when I made it clear it hurt my feelings, him thinking it was okay for me to be with other guys. Even if it was a club sub in a structured session. Sometimes it's how things go both ways in a relationship that locks it in, makes it a stronger bond, if that makes sense."
It did, but Gen's focus was on one particular submissive. "Do a lot of them have that kind of arrangement? Multiple partners? Are Lyda and Noah that way?"
Noah had made it clear that Lyda's decision to share him with Gen, without Lyda present, wasn't their usual thing. So it wasn't really the same as a completely open relationship. Did they call it a relationship at all?
"Not really. Before Lyda took temporary ownership of him, Noah was picked up by different Mistresses for sessions. But it's been only him and her for a few months now."
"Hmm." Gen stole a quick look at Marguerite. Their boss was still on the phone. "So how did he get his nickname?"
"Can't say it, can you? Pussy. Puuusssy..." Chloe fenced forks with Gen and Gen stabbed the last bite of cake in retaliation. "Say it. Here, kitty, kitty..."