Safeword: Arabesque (Safewords Book 9) (13 page)

He tied his shoes, walked to her, and cupped her cheek as he said, “Let’s pick this conversation up later, okay?”

He kissed her and she kissed him back, but her heart wasn’t in it.

When the door closed behind him she wanted to scream obscenities at it.

She finally looked at the clock, saw it was only six in the morning, and rolled over to try to go back to sleep.

* * * *

When she awoke again, she knew what she had to do. For her own sanity — and her self-respect — she needed to see if someone besides Frisco could give her an orgasm.

She seemed to be looking to him as some kind of liberator, her knight in shining armor who finally released the floodgates and showed her how to live. However, if it was just a matter of the kink and the power exchange, then theoretically there were other men who could give her orgasms, too.

Since he was apparently going to avoid any conversation about a relationship, she composed an email, though she didn’t send it.

Frisco,

I’ve found another Dom I think I want to play around with. I need to know if you’re the only one who can give me orgasms, or if it’s just a matter of finding someone to Top me.

I know the whole purpose of getting me tested was so I could play with you and Cam without a condom, so I’m letting you know I have a date this weekend, and we’ll probably be back to using condoms again next week.

Cassie

That should do it. Now she just had to find a Dom and get a date, and then she could send the email.

She’d set up a profile on Fetlife a while back; perhaps it was time for her to go to one of the munches when they announced the next.

Chapter Thirteen

Cassie was terrified as she parked at the restaurant, but determined to go in and meet people. She’d been told to make friends with the women before interacting with the men too much, which was what she intended to do.

The munch was at a buffet, but the group was in a private room at the back, away from vanilla ears.

A woman in pearls and a slim-fitting prim and proper dress descended on her as she entered the room.

“Hello, dear. Are you looking for a particular group?”

Her heart skipped a beat as she thought she might be in the wrong place. Looking around, everyone appeared normal, but the instructions had been to wear normal clothes. Surely
someone
would look demented in a BDSM group though. Right?

The woman who’d approached her seemed normal enough, so Cassie answered, “Ummm, the munch?”

The woman smiled and hugged her. “Oh good, I’m always worried we’ll have stray vanillas walk in. I’m Peggy, come sit with me and we can talk. Are you new to the scene?”

“Kind of, ma’am?”

“Oh, goodness no. Don’t call me ma’am. I’m Peggy.”

Peggy introduced her to a half-dozen people and Cassie tried her best to put names to faces but soon realized there was no way to remember everyone, so she concentrated on remembering the women without partners.

“So, tell me dear, you said you’re kind of new? Do you want to share how experienced you are?”

Cassie looked around, saw the others talking to each other, and only Peggy listening. She took a breath and answered, “I’ve spent some time with a really experienced Dom, but he’s bisexual and has this crazy idea he can only get rough with the guys. So, I’ve had a lot of the power exchange parts, but I’ve never been spanked or anything.”

“And you want to? Are you in a relationship with him?”

She shook her head. “No. He’s only showing me the ropes, so I’ll know a little what to expect when I go looking, and I’m ready to go looking.”

“Well, dear. If you’re looking to find someone to play with who is responsible, I’ll introduce you to Alex when he gets here. You’ll need to be very clear what you want from him, though. Don’t pretend you want more than you’re sure you can take. It’s perfectly okay to tell him what you think you want, but aren’t sure about.”

“Peggy,” a deep voice said from behind Cassie, “are you playing matchmaker again?”

“Yes, and you’re too much for this sweet girl. Go find yourself someone more experienced to torture.”

“Well, don’t you think the sweet girl ought to decide for herself?”

He looked at Cassie as she turned towards him, and she thought he had a nice smile. Possibly a little scary, but nice.

“I’m Isaac, and Peggy’s right, you
are
a sweet little thing.”

Isaac was…large.

So, fucking, huge.

And his voice was like hot whiskey. The kind you wanted to put peppermint into and savor on the way down.

He wore dress pants and a tie, but she could see his bulging muscles beneath the form fitting dress shirt.

She thought she might even be imagining ripped abs.

He was black, or African American, or whatever the correct terminology was this week. He wasn’t biracial, he was dark, dark,
dark
, black. She didn’t care, but wondered if perhaps it was why Peggy was giving her an out.

She smiled at him and turned back to Peggy, unsure of what to say.

“You can make your own decisions, Cassie,” Peggy said with a smile. “I’ll introduce you to Alex when he gets here. They’ll both respect your safeword, and if you’re honest about your starting point they’ll take it slow from there and help you figure out what you want.”

When Alex arrived and she was introduced, he was possibly more attractive than Isaac, but she wasn’t as attracted to him. She couldn’t put a finger on why, but she gave her attention to Isaac. Between his intense eyes and rumbling voice, she couldn’t stop imagining what he’d be like in bed. 

Towards the end of the munch, Isaac asked her if she’d like to go to a nearby billiard club to talk for a while.

When they walked into the cool dark everyone seemed to know him by name — bartenders, wait staff, and even many of the patrons. He herded her off to a table in a corner and asked what she’d like to drink.

“Oh, I’m good with just some water.”

“No, Sweet Thing. I’m buying. What’s your poison? Beer? Wine? Liquor? A mixed drink?”

He said
sweet thing
as if he already knew how she tasted, and she crossed her legs to keep from squirming.

She shook her head. “I’m driving. Just some water, please?”

He sat back and looked at her a few seconds, as if observing and cataloguing. “This isn’t about following the rules; it’s about your own personal code of ethics, right?”

She frowned, uncomfortable with him analyzing her choice of drink with so much detail.

“Sweet Thing,” he said, leaning forward and taking her hand in his. “It’s your job to tell me what you want and who you are. It’s my job to figure you out, and to read between the lines of what you don’t say. I’m trying to work out whether you’re a rule follower, or one of those people who play by your own rules. I don’t think you’re worried about the legalities of drinking and driving here, but about your own personal moral code. You aren’t confident in your ability to drive when you’ve had a drink, so you don’t.”

Her smile must have told him he was right, because he chuckled and returned her smile. “Okay, water with lemon it is, unless you want to hang out a few hours and play some pool?”

She shook her head, he raised his arm, and a waitress was to them in seconds, almost as if she’d been awaiting his signal.

“I’ll have the usual; the lady will have water with lemon.”

When she left, he looked to Cassie and said, “You’ve told me a little about what the gentleman you’ve been seeing has and hasn’t done, now I’d like to hear what’s turned you on the most — either in real life, or online, or in books…what does it for you, Sweet Thing?”

Cassie was tired of doing all the talking. Cam talked to her plenty, but she almost never heard Frisco’s motivations or turn-ons and she wanted to make sure Isaac wasn’t a carbon copy of Frisco.

“You know what? I think I’ve been answering most of the questions. Can you tell me what turns you on?”

His laugh was pure sex. Macho and virile and raw lust.

“I like to watch a bottom turn red. I like to see a submissive squirm and beg, and get so fucking hot and bothered she’s begging me for more — more pain, more pleasure, more attention, more tongue, more cock, more fucking… just damned
more
.” He smiled and lifted her hand to his mouth to kiss it, and carefully put it back where he found it. “Playing with new submissives is fun, I like teaching them what feels good and helping them figure out their particular kinks. I’m also a fan of playing with experienced subs, and sometimes showing them how something they thought they hated can work for them, if approached correctly.”

The waitress brought their drinks while he was talking, but paid no attention to what he was saying. She put the drinks on the table, nodded to him, and was gone in seconds. Apparently, his “usual” was a local craft beer, which he drank from the bottle. Cassie had noticed a mixture of polished and rough since she’d met him. He spoke with perfect grammar and was dressed as a businessman, but practically oozed bad-boy sexuality.

Pulling herself back to their conversation, she decided his answer had been refreshingly honest, and it made her feel better about sharing. She just wasn’t sure exactly what to tell him.

She hadn’t told Isaac about Cam because she wasn’t sure she could explain the relationship, or how she could be attracted to Frisco and Cam in such different ways.

She’d merely told him the guy who’d been showing her the ropes was in a relationship with a man, had allowed her into their bedroom and playroom, and had given her some experiences with power exchange.

She’d told him the specific things she liked though, and of course the leash was front and center of her list. In the four months she’d spent with Frisco and Cam she’d had experiences far and above her night at The Diamond Club, but she couldn’t get beyond her first experience with dominance and submission. No matter she’d only been an observer — the leash was still
the
symbol of power exchange, in her mind.

But Frisco had given her lots of experience with a leash. She needed impact play, and wanted nipple clamps, and maybe even a butt plug.

“I’ve already told you I was turned on by the leash, but as things have progressed I want to be spanked and flogged. I want to know I’ll be punished if I don’t follow the rules. Watching the difference in a punishment caning versus a pleasurable flogging session? The first terrifies me, yet I still want to experience it. And the pleasurable stuff…”

She blushed and started to stammer a little, so she stopped, took a breath, and forced herself to continue in a normal voice. “I want to be spanked with a proper warm up, and maybe flogged.”

He leaned forward and caressed her cheek. The gesture was so intimate, and yet controlling and dominant. Her heart skipped a beat and her breath caught.

His perceptive eyes and warm smile told her he knew the effect he had on her, and his voice seemed to drop even deeper as he said, “I have an office in the back. It’s mostly soundproof, and Peggy already told you I’ll respect your safeword. If you want to go back, just tell me your safeword and we’ll go.”

“You work here?”

“I’m part owner.”

She took in the information but could only think of so much at a time, and her brain went back to his offer.

“What would we do? If we go back?”

He eyed her speculatively a few heartbeats before saying, “No sex. You’ll bend over my lap and I’ll spank you with my hand until I’m ready to pull your skirt up. Once I have your skirt around your waist I’ll spank you over your panties, and if you aren’t wearing a thong I’ll make them look like one, but I won’t pull your panties down.” He smiled and leaned forward to caress her cheek again. “That’s it for today. A hand-spanking. I don’t get you off; you don’t get me off. If we like it, we can arrange for something more, somewhere else.”

“Arabesque. My safeword is arabesque.”

He tilted his head. “Are you a dancer?”

“I was. In college.”

Which wasn’t why she’d chosen the word, but she wasn’t prepared to talk to him about Frisco and Cam personally. He only needed to hear about her experience with kink, not specifics about who she’d done it with. One didn’t speak with fondness about ex-boyfriends in the vanilla world, and she assumed the rules were the same regarding ex-Doms and their slaves in the BDSM world.

He stood and offered his hand, which she accepted, and allowed him to help her up.

She hadn’t told him about her martial arts skills, thinking if she needed them it’d be better to have the element of surprise. She found she trusted him, though, and didn’t expect to need them.

His office was impressive, with lots of original art, a huge antique wood desk, old style expensive wood paneling, thick carpet, and no window.