Dangerous Control (Dark Dominance 3)

“No.” He laughed. “It comes out of a jar. Want to try a bite?”

“Yes, I freaking do.”

He fed me some steak and broccoli, and a slice of green pepper, dangling them from his chopsticks so I could take them into my mouth.

“It’s so good, Milo.” I might have lost everything, but maybe it was worth it, to have these moments with him. I hadn’t even put the claim together for the insurance. I was too damn comfortable here, which was dangerous.

He took a few more bites of his food, swirling the vegetables and steak together in the sauce, then paused and looked over at me. “Do you have any plans for New Year’s?”

The tortillas I’d eaten flopped around in my stomach. Don’t get excited, Alice. He doesn’t mean it in your fantasy way. “Uh, no. Not really. I was going to stay in. Stay here, if that’s okay.”

“That’s fine.” He pushed his food around and took a breath. “But if you want, you can hang out with me and my friends.”

“The paired-up ones? With the girlfriends who only tolerate you?”

“Yeah. If you came with me, you could run interference. Keep the girlfriends occupied while I hang out with my buds.”

I burst into laughter, and he smiled. Oh, that smile.

“I’m kidding,” he said. “They’re great. Juliet and Ella. They’ve been asking to meet you, so maybe we could all hang out, drink champagne and eat canapés until the ball drops, that kind of thing.”

He wore a guarded expression, like he didn’t want me to take this the wrong way. I wasn’t going to. I was glad to be invited, and curious to meet his friends.

“Thanks for the invite,” I said, stealing a bit of steak from his plate and passing it under the counter to Blue. “I’d love to go.”

Chapter Five: Milo

I had no idea why I’d invited her to New Year’s at Fort’s house. I wasn’t known for being a masochist, but the evening had been booked and planned. My two best friends and their partners were expecting us in half an hour.

“You don’t have to dress up,” I said, knocking on the guest room door. “They’re not fancy.”

Well, they were kind of fancy. Fort’s father owned the Sinclair Jewelry company, and Devin’s family were part owners of Gibraltar Airlines, but my friends themselves were down to earth, for the most part. Fort and Devin were also Dominants, and members of The Gallery. In the past, I’d participated in group scenes with Ella and Juliet, with varying success.

But God, I didn’t want Alice to know any of this.

I could trust my friends to be discreet. They knew Alice and I were old friends, and that she was staying with me because of the Michelin building explosion.

“I’m not getting fancy,” she said, opening the door. “Just trying to do something with my hair.”

God help me, she’d put it up in those wraparound braids. Sometimes I went entire days forgetting Alice was from Sweden, because her English was so good, but then she’d do one of her plaited hairstyles, with gold-red braids circling her head like a Nordic fairy crown. There were always wispy hairs flying loose here and there. She’d tug at them impatiently, while I pondered what was wrong with me that I literally wanted to fuck someone’s hairstyle.

“You look nice,” I told her. And I want to fuck your hair, damn you.

I’d hoped that living with her would take the edge off my lust, but it hadn’t, not even a little. She was dressed in one of the outfits I’d bought her. Even though she’d finally gone out shopping for some things, she chose to wear the pink cashmere sweater and dark-washed jeans I’d picked out. With the braided updo and pale pink top, she looked charming and innocent. Good.

No, bad. She still looked fuckable as hell to my traitorous body.

“Let’s get out of here,” I said.

“I’ll get the champagne.”

She scooped up the four bottles on the kitchen counter, hugging them to her chest. I laughed and took two of them, ignoring the perky silhouette of her breasts under her sweater. She paused on the way to the door to put on her shoes and say goodbye to Blue.

“Get a coat,” I reminded her. “It’s cold out.” And I don’t want anyone on the street slavering over your breasts. Only me.

When we arrived at Fort’s Blackwell penthouse, a cozy party was already in session. Fort and Juliet welcomed us in, while Devin and Ella waved from the couch.

“You must be Alice,” said Juliet, relieving her of the champagne bottles. “Thanks for the booze, and Happy New Year.”

“Milo bought the booze, but you’re welcome. Thanks for having me over.”

“No problem. Any friend of Milo’s is a friend of ours. I love your hair!”

Alice patted her glorious crown of braids, looking for wisps, probably, not realizing how beautiful she was. I could tell she was a little overwhelmed. Fort and Juliet’s apartment was a showplace, with high ceilings and wall-to-wall windows looking down on the city. The penthouse view made it the perfect place to ring in the New Year. I glanced around at the silver and gold decorations, posters, fringe, and glitter balls, while Alice accepted a “Happy New Year” tiara embellished with lights.

“That looks good on you,” I teased. A crown to go on her crown. By the time the intros were finished, Devin and Fort were giving me looks, as if to say, this is your old family friend? You’ve fucked her though, right? Or you’re planning to? We could communicate all this through eye contact alone; that was how long we’d trolled for women together—submissive women—before they settled into their current relationships and fell in love.

I ignored their curious glances, settling back in a recliner and digging into the chips. Alice sat at the end of the couch, filling the room Devin and Ella made for her, while Juliet and Fort took the love seat. Conversation flowed easily, as a year-in-retrospective special played on TV in the background.

“Alice,” asked Ella, “how long have you and Milo been friends?”

She met my eyes a moment. “Gosh. Forever. My grandfather was a pretty well-known musician in Sweden, and he hit it off with Milo’s grandfather while he was buying a Fierro violin. Wh

en our fathers both attended the European Conservatory, the families got together often enough to form a bond. We didn’t grow up together or anything, but I saw Milo at least a few times every year. Until…”

I picked up the story. “Until I started taking lessons from her father. That was when he worked and taught in Brooklyn. We saw each other a lot then. We were what? How old?”

“I don’t remember.” She scrunched up her nose. “Were you sixteen? Fifteen? And I was six years younger than you.”

“You were the prodigy.”

“You keep saying that, Milo, but you were pretty good.”

I snorted. “Your father didn’t think so.”

It felt strange to hash back over our friendship in front of people. The other two couples watched us with bemused looks.

“Anyway,” said Alice, “I saw him a lot until my family moved back to Sweden. Then it was only once or twice a year, maybe summer or Christmastime.”

“Until now,” Devin said.

“Now she sees me all the time,” I joked, a nervous reaction to their scrutiny.

“I was so sorry to hear that you lost everything in the Michelin fire,” Fort said. “I’m glad Milo was able to offer you a place to stay.”

I stared at Alice, unsettled as always when I thought how close I’d come to losing her. “Blue was the one who insisted she stay,” I said. “He’s taken a shine to her. I doubt he’ll ever let her move out now.”

Alice laughed, looking around at the others, and the conversation moved to brighter topics. I tried to be bright too, because this was a celebration of a new year and new beginnings, but I soon felt the pull of moodiness. My friends and their girlfriends were so happy together, so at ease, because they’d been aware of each other’s kinks from the start. Fort and Juliet met outside a BDSM club, and Devin and Ella had participated in a dungeon scene together before they’d even met.