Page 58 of Lesson In Honesty
“I’m not spoiling the surprise,” he replied with a slight reprimand in his tone. His expression, however, when he looked at her was a mixture of mild sadism, mischievousness, and anticipation. “Although I should warn you, Mack thinks you might benefit from copying off the same cheat sheet.”
Oh, that was just cryptic.
What had she gotten herself in to with these guys?
Mack
They were taking their sweet time, he thought as he paced around the area he’d spent the last thirty minutes setting up and tweaking. Either the chick with crazy blue eyes was giving them one hell of a fight, or they’d decided not to go through with the wackiest idea on the planet and gone home to bed instead.
Wouldn’t that be awkward, being forgotten about on the first official date?
No, they wouldn’t do that. Liam and Grit had already been to drop off a few supplies and run through the proposed plan of action—Mack approved, although he doubted everything would go as smoothly as they hoped, not if Grit’s sub was as volatile as stated.
Resisting the urge to check his watch again, he realized he was nervous.Nervous, for fuck’s sake, as though he was a teenager about to dip his wick for the first time.
Christ, nothing that happened here tonight could be as bad as literally soaking his boxers with cum when his date accidentally stroked his seventeen-year-old dick as she lowered his zipper.
The humiliation… no, that was the wrong word. Even mortification didn’t truly sum up how his lack of self-control made him feel. He’d been neon red for two whole days, unable to keep replaying the incident over and over in his head.
It wasn’t until his mom asked if he had a fever and threatened to take him to the doctor that he realized he was drawing attention to himself. Recovering from the ordeal took time, but it helped that the cause of it turned out to be the nicest goddamn girl in history who kept the secret of his epic failure to herself.
Luckily, stamina and the ability to control his orgasm were no longer an issue.
Smoothing his hand over the nearest ‘table’ he and the Stable Master had constructed from hay bales and a padded hip booster, it wasn’t hard to imagine Sierra laid prostrate on the cushioned length, her hips and ass raised so all her delectable bits were on full display.
Master Merrick, the Stable Master on relief duty, had been instrumental in ensuring the two makeshift contraptions were sturdy enough to hold the weight of an anxious submissive, stable enough to stay standing during a thorough fuck.
From further down the barn, Mack heard Liam’s voice. “Merrick.”
They hadn’t forgotten him, then. Score one for him.
“Evening, Liam. Everything’s ready.”
Shit, where did he stand?Howdid he stand? Was he supposed to be acting casual, concerned, attentive? Should he be out in the open like some overexcited deviant, or loitering in the shadows? No, that just screamed pervert.
Before Mack could move, Liam stepped into the stall with Sierra a half-step behind. Gray eyes bright with approval, he aimed for Mack, nudging their girl ahead of him. “Good job, Mack.”
“I like to help.”
Liam smiled wryly. “You might rue that decision in about ten minutes.”
Before he could ask why, the white-blonde ice princess he’d seen earlier stalked in. Emanating aggression andback the fuck offvibes with every step, it was obvious being here was her personal version of hell and she was willing to fight.
Judging by her body language and the set of her features, she wasn’t a stranger to combat—he’d met MMA instructors who weren’t as intense in the middle of a training session.
Grit stepped in after her, pulling the sliding stall door shut with a gentle rumble of wheels along the track. The bottom half of the door was wooden, while the top portion was straight metal bars; he reached through and snicked the latch into position.
Good idea, because now she looked like she wanted to bolt.
Mack frowned. The girl could’ve had one hell of an acting career if she hid her fear this well; the soft snap of the lock flipped a switch in her. The aggressive stance expanded as a defense, like a dog raising its hackles in warning, but underneath, she was trembling.
Her eyes landed on the haybale tables, widening in shock before the pupils dilated with fear. She inched back, a handcreeping toward her throat, then yelped when she bumped into her Dom.
“Ssssh, little tiger. Take a breath. We’ve been here before, remember?” Grit’s arms looped around her, tugging her against him before she panicked and hurt herself. “Look around, Tabby. No one’s going to hurt you.I’mnot going to hurt you. Watch Sierra,” he ordered softly, rubbing his short beard against the side of her throat. “Does she look scared? Is she frightened?”
Tabitha’s head moved from side to side in tiny shakes.
“Sierra, sweetheart, does my sub have anything to be afraid of here?”