How Cassie Got Her Grind Back (37 page)

And Mona kneeled beside her Dom. She and Randall both wore wedding bands, so they, too, were committed to more than just a BDSM relationship. Mona looked more than content in her place kneeling on the cushion beside Randall. She certainly didn’t look like a doormat, and earlier, she’d looked thrilled to be of service to her Dom, rushing off to get the icepack and the first-aid kit.

And little Shae, still sitting silently with perfect posture, listened intently to what the others were talking about, every so often casting a glance around, watching the couples with something akin to hope in her eyes. She obviously wanted what they had. She didn’t seem to feel as though she was on the fringe or ignored and smiled and responded when Randall spoke to her and when Ivan asked her a question.

“You’re willing to be that patient?” she asked as she stroked the top of Samson’s hand where it rested on her hip. “Even if I need more time?”

“To have you here with me? Of course.”

She cast her gaze out to the crowd on the dance floor, and he turned his head to observe with her. The conversation among the group flowed around them as she said, “I can see the attraction to the dynamic. Heck, coming from my background, I can even understand it to a degree. But, Samson, there was truth in Jillian’s words. I’m soft and overweight. Would you really want to see me in a skimpy outfit like Bunny’s or Mona’s? I’d look ridi—“

He put a finger to her lips and said, “Bunny gets punished when she voices body-shaming thoughts, just so you know. I agree with Joseph on that rule, so watch what you say about this gorgeous body of yours.” She sensed a shift in Ivan’s attention toward their conversation as he turned toward them.

“From the waist up, I could handle the outfit she has on, I think, but from the waist down? Let’s not be ridiculous.”

“That’s one,” he said quietly, a smile drawing across his lips.

“One what?”

“One pop on your gorgeous ass.”

“My dimply ass, you mean?” she asked, not feeling threatened at all. Odd. “Would it be a punishment sort of pop or more of a therapy pop? Because I’m not sure I’d be willing to cry over the categorization of my ass. Or is it an erotic spanking? Would you use your hand? Or a paddle?”

Samson rubbed his forehead and sighed softly, and she felt his cock thicken beneath her. “Keep pushing and it’ll be a public spanking, which I don’t think you’re quite ready for.”

“Not during this first visit, I don’t think,” she replied. “But we can table our discussion until we’re alone, I’ll grant you that much. Back to what I was talking about. The fetish apparel. Do you truly want to see so much of me exposed?”

“Within these walls there’s nothing I’d like more. It’s a travesty nobody has ever taken the time to affirm your beauty, not your ex-husband and not your father, and I count myself among that number as well. When you and I were dating, I should’ve been telling you how beautiful I thought you were on a regular basis, and I guess I didn’t.”

“Yes, you did. I even saved some of the notes you wrote me in my cedar chest. I…Not that it matters now, but I don’t think I believed you. I thought you were sweet and wonderful for telling me, though.”

“I spoke the truth, then, I promise. And you’re more beautiful now, despite whatever you may look at in the mirror and see as a flaw.”

“Look around, love,” Ivan murmured from right by her shoulder. “How many model-perfect bodies do you see?” She scanned the room, but before she could tell him none of them were perfect, he continued. “You hold yourself to an unreasonably high standard.”

Craning her neck, she looked from one man to the other and then said, “I don’t want to be an embarrassment to you, either of you.”

Samson nodded, gazing into her eyes, and she hoped he could see the truth she was speaking in them. He said, “I have never been so damned proud as I am for every person in this room to see you with me. You’re mine as much as I’m yours. Tell her, Ivan.”

Ivan kissed her shoulder again, the touch tender. “I’d be more inclined to tie you down and feed you cheesecake than to tie you down and spank you, love, but yeah, that’s how I feel. I’m so proud to have you with us, to be seen as yours.”

“And if you chose to wear fetish attire, it wouldn’t necessarily need to be something constricting or uncomfortable. Something revealing and daring would certainly meet with my approval.”

“Black lace,” Ivan whispered. “Stockings and a garter belt. A baby doll nightie. Mmm.”

Cassie giggled at Ivan’s ravenous tone and Samson’s answering growl. “And how exactly would that be more comfortable for me?”

Samson chuckled. “In a nutshell, baby, if I knew you wore it to please me, it would please me very much indeed.”

“I asked you how I should dress tonight. Pleasing you…does it for me.” He smiled at her as she worked it out. “If I don’t want to wear the fetish apparel because it makes me self-conscious, then by submitting and wearing it anyway, I please you, and in the process, it takes my self-consciousness out of the equation. If I have given over the control for how I’m dressed, I’m submitting to you.”

Samson nodded.

I’m still confused, but that at least makes a little sense.
“Okay, but that means you’re responsible for what I wear to the club.”

“I’d be delighted. So glad you asked,” he said and then laughed along with her.

Wait. Did I just agree to walk around this damned place in my underwear? Holy crap!

“And if those dimples continue to bother you when you wear it, we could always have a dimple-flattening party. Then everyone would notice my handprints on your juicy, red ass rather than some inconsequential dimples.”

“You’d enjoy that, wouldn’t you?”

“There’s more than one way to please a sadist, baby.”

* * * *

Ivan woke late that night to a cool spot on the bed between him and Samson. He hadn’t even moved yet when Samson rubbed his hand through his hair and said, “She couldn’t sleep and got up a little while ago. She knew you’re going in for Sunday brunch this morning, and she didn’t want to disturb you.”

“She okay?”

“I think so. She said she just has a lot on her mind.
I heard her pick up the guitar case before she left the room.”

“I’m gonna go check on her.”

“Sure,” Samson murmured as he rolled to his side. “Coffee shop’s closed today so she can nap later if she wants to. I’ll get up and make the coffee in a few more minutes.”

Ivan grunted a reply as he pulled a pair of sweats from his overnight bag and tiptoed down the hallway. Joseph and Tamara were both staying with friends, and Delicia’s bedroom was on the other side of the house, but he still didn’t want to chance waking Cassie’s mother up. Her health had improved since she’d moved in with Cassie, and Ivan didn’t want to wreck an arrangement that was clearly working by stumbling around like a clumsy bear, waking and potentially embarrassing either of the women. That was another reason they’d held off on a ménage. They’d both wanted complete privacy so Cassie wouldn’t worry about noise, at least the first time.

He paused at the sound of a guitar chord and headed toward the back door. Cassie had dusted off her guitar on Thanksgiving Day, and had managed a few of songs before one string had broken, followed quickly by another. She’d evidently found time in her schedule to pick up some new strings.

Peeking out the window, he spotted her sitting at the patio table, wrapped up in a heavy blanket, a jar candle providing a little light and a weight for the sheet of paper she was writing on.

“I’ll be damned. Is she writing?” Samson asked softly from behind him.

“
Shhh
, listen.”

Setting aside the pencil, she tucked some hair that had come loose in the wind behind her ear and then took the guitar pick, which she’d held between her lips. Her fingers moved with supple grace over the strings as she plucked out the melody. Goose bumps danced on his arms and shoulders as she hummed along, her voice clear, sweet, and high as she sang the notes along with her instrument.

He gulped and didn’t look behind him when he heard a slight sniffle. It affected him, too. Samson whispered, “I’ve missed that. Remember? She used to hum and sing all the time.”

She stuck the pick back between her lips and picked up the pencil again, her gaze moving off to the east where the sky had gone from black to pearly gray. Her profile was peaceful, and some thought she had made her smile tenderly as she removed the pick from her lips and looked at it. As if ready to focus once more, she sat up straight and began writing on the paper again, which he could see was sheet music, filled with sweeping lines and notes.

Ivan cleared his throat as quietly as possible. “I was considering going out there, but if she’s feeling inspired, I don’t want to disturb her.”

Samson nodded as he watched her. “I was thinking about it, too, but she’s been out there a little while. We ought to at least take her another blanket and some coffee.”

“Good thought,” Ivan said. And a good thing there was enough ambient light in the kitchen for Samson to make coffee without turning on the overhead light and disturbing her concentration. “I’ll go shower.”

“Before you go, I want to ask you something. You said you were thinking about moving back to Divine. Is that still the case?”

No hesitation or thinking it through needed. That was a no-brainer. “Yes, absolutely. I planned to talk with her again about the shop and plans for future development. Why? You, too?”

Samson chuckled. “I never thought I’d say it out loud, but yeah. I’d move back to Divine, and not just for her. I like it here now. Gotten to know some more folks, and yeah, I’d come back. I can always commute for work. It’s not very far to Morehead. What about Hermione?”

Ivan sighed as his gut tightened. “I’ll handle Hermione. With her, it’s just a question of catching her in the right frame of mind.”

Laughter rumbled in Samson’s chest. “Does she have a right frame of mind?”

“Yeah, so I have to act quickly when those moments come before they go just as quickly. Don’t worry about her. So you’re saying…”

“I heard about a great jeweler who does gorgeous custom work. Takes a little time but supposedly worth it. Clay Cook Jewelers. Grace Warner mentioned them to me. Actually, it’s funny,” Samson said, a smile growing on his face. “The way she worked that information into a conversation so helpfully.”

“Time to
carpe
a little
diem
?”

“Yup.”

December…

After a very busy week of pre-Christmas traffic through the coffee shop, Cassie found herself front and center at the Cutters’ house. Their parents were taking a Christmas cruise that year and had invited their sons over to celebrate the holiday the weekend before. Joseph and Tamara were returning from school for the holiday break in the next couple of days.

Initially, Cassie had been nervous, but Samson and Ivan had told her their parents made sure they knew the invitation was meant for Cassie as well.

“How is your mom doing now, Cassie?” Mr. Cutter asked as he removed slices from the honey-baked ham and placed them on a platter. “I haven’t seen her in decades.”

“She’s just fine, sir. She’s been in ill health recently, so she’s come to live with me. She doesn’t get out much unless it’s with me. Crowds and noise make her a bit nervous. Things were never the same for her after…you know. I’ve missed seeing you both around town.”

Mrs. Cutter, who’d earlier insisted, now that they were all grown adults, Cassie should call her Natalia, said, “We felt it was for the best since we already lived so far out in the county and close to Morehead that we do all our business there. It was more comfortable for everyone that way. At least for us, I suppose,” she added, her brows furrowing as she patted Cassie’s hand. “It can’t have been easy for you, living there, especially once you had decided to not go to college.”

Mr. Cutter, or Mason as he insisted she call him, looked upon her with compassionate eyes. “You were pretty good with several musical instruments, weren’t you, Cassie? And I remember hearing you sing once at a high school choir concert.”

“Yes, sir. I did, but I didn’t do much with it beyond high school.”

Several times, Bill had suggested she take her guitar to a music store and sell it since it did nothing but gather dust. He’d never once asked her to play it, although he knew she could, rather proficiently.

The talk about her once budding musical talent made her a little sad, to think of the time passed and the waste of that gift. But things turned out the way they did for a reason.

When the food was ready and the table set, they all took a seat. With Ivan on her left and Samson on her right, and the friendly faces seated across from her, Cassie had a flashback to meals eaten with this family many years ago. Natalia smiled at her as she passed the rolls to her husband and nodded, as if she, too, was thinking the same thing.

Ivan turned in his seat and held the meat platter for her. “Help yourself, gorgeous lady.”

Mason wheezed a little as he chuckled and nudged his wife. “I think that’s what they call sucking up.”

Natalia giggled and winked at Cassie. “No, darlin’, that’s what they call foreplay. Y’all make sure and save room. I made peach cobbler for dessert.”