Aline Hunter - Make Me Shiver

She heard the front door open and a smile spread across her face. Once she scampered up the stairs she rushed through the entertainment room, prepared to leap into Michael’s arms, only to stop when a curvaceous blonde woman walked into her path.

Lacey skidded to a stop, momentarily dumbfounded and shell-shocked.

“Oh.” The stranger recovered quickly. “Hello.”

“Hello.” Lacey felt as if she was operating on autopilot as she returned the greeting, caught off-guard by the breathtaking creature who walked through the foyer as if she was very familiar with the house.

“I’m Aly.”

The woman extended her hand and Lacey clumsily shifted her bundle of clothing to one arm, shook the proffered hand and let go.

“Lacey.”

Aly smiled, though it didn’t reach her eyes. “I’m sorry for dropping in so unexpectedly. I’m sorry if I disturbed you. I usually knock when Master is entertaining but when I saw his truck was gone I used the key to allow myself inside. I apologize. I wasn’t aware he had company.”

Three words computed in that moment: Master. Key. Entertaining.

Lacey’s stomach sank and her heart constricted, bliss swiftly changing to another emotion as comprehension struck cruelly and the lemony bitterness of shame coated the back of her throat. Dazed and hurt, she studied the beautiful, full-figured woman standing in front of her. She was dressed in skintight jeans and a form-fitting camel coat, a large black tote slung over her arm. And she was a stunner, absolutely gorgeous.

Master, Aly’d said. Master.

So Michael not only had a submissive, he also engaged in sex with other women on the side. To think she’d damned Scott for being a scuzz bucket!

What a fucking sleaze. How stupid can I possibly be?

“Would you like me to make you breakfast?” Aly asked softly, studying her with a mixture of curiosity and confusion. “Master shouldn’t be long. We can get to know each other until he returns.”

“Get to know each other?” Lacey echoed dumbly, disgusted at the thought. She’d heard of women who willingly shared their men, had tried to wrap her mind around it, but it wasn’t her thing.

Her mother had always told her she was selfish as a child and refused to share. She supposed it was something that had trickled over when it came to relationships.

Once a man was hers, he was hers. Hands off. Do not go there.

“Of course, why wouldn’t we?” The smile on Aly’s face waned. “If you’re still here, things obviously went well. Master doesn’t usually permit his guests to stay overnight.”

“Guests?” Lacey croaked, on the verge of losing her cool.

How many times had Michael done things like this? Introducing women to this kind of lifestyle?

Tying them up, making them beg? All of the events from the previous evening came rushing back but there was no euphoria this time. The phrase “notch in the bedpost” took on an entirely new meaning.

She didn’t even want to think about the pillow talk they’d engaged in before they drifted to sleep, discussing what they wanted most in the future.

Marriage, family, kids, a couple of dogs…

He’d fed her bullshit, and she’d gobbled it up like Godiva chocolate. How desperate and naïve she must have sounded. Like a blabbering fool who believed that something more could come from their experience together. Not that Michael was innocent. He’d held her in his arms as she jabbered on, pretending to be interested. He’d even shared a few dreams of his own.

Fucking pillow talk! Suddenly she felt incredibly sick.

“Oh God.” She staggered, bringing her hand to her mouth.

“Are you all right?” Aly frowned and took a step forward.

“I’m fine.” She sidestepped Aly’s reach as her gaze darted around the room. She had to get dressed and get the fuck out. “Where’s the bathroom?”

The frown marring Aly’s face deepened. “There’s one just inside the hallway.”

Lacey didn’t waste any time rushing past the busty blonde. She noticed the door now, hidden as it matched the wood perfectly. She darted inside, flipped on the light and flung off the robe. Tossing her clothing into the sink, she slid into her underwear before wriggling into her clothes.

She tried to soothe her rattled nerves, knowing she had to get her act together fast. First she’d go to the shop, see if Jacob was around and ask for a ride into town. She’d worry about the rest later.

Right now she just wanted to get as far away from Michael and the memory of their night together as possible. It was embarrassing enough to face the woman he obviously fucked on a regular basis without wondering if he’d performed the same “scene”, said the same things or commanded the same acquiescence in his bed.

Jesus, she’d given him all he asked for too, without question.

Forcing aside nausea and striving for calm, she smoothed out her hair with trembling fingers, splashed water on her face and avoided looking at herself in the mirror. She didn’t want to see the face staring back at her.

This was what happened when you played with fire—you got burned.

There was no one to blame but herself.

* * *

Michael pulled into the drive and drove past the shop. He’d been gone longer than he expected and all he could think about was the woman waiting for him at home. He wanted to speak with her, to learn more about what she loved and hated, was eager to discover everything there was to know about her.

Last night was just the beginning.

Lacey was fire and ice, velvet and steel, and she pleased him in ways he never believed possible, bringing out protective and possessive impulses unlike any he’d ever experienced for a woman.

He had to convince her to give them a chance outside the bedroom, to consider taking their sexual encounter to another level. As excited as submission obviously made her, announcing it to the world was harder for some than others. He had to gain her trust, maintain it and treasure it as the ultimate gift it was.

His thoughts returned to the best way to introduce her to the BDSM lifestyle. Slow was best. If he was patient, built on their flourishing trust and allowed Lacey to know him on a personal level, they had a shot at making things work. They had similar interests and were more than compatible sexually, which was more than he could say for most couples. Not to mention he’d discovered he didn’t want to spend a single minute without her—something that would have his friends snickering in glee.

Michael the pussy whipped, he mused and grinned, already hearing their friendly taunts resonating in his head. And fuck it to hell if he cared. His father always told him all a man needed was a good woman. It was time to prove the old man right.

He had time to do things right with Lacey. He just had to make sure he used it wisely.

How would she react if he invited her to the Christmas party at Fantasia? Would she decline his invitation outright? Or would she venture outside her comfort zone? Although his tastes didn’t require the full measure of D/s play in public, he still enjoyed mingling with his friends at the club and considered them his second family in many ways. If there was going to be a future between him and Lacey there had to be an understanding. As attracted and drawn to her as he was, he wasn’t going to let her go easily.

All good things were worth fighting for.

His broad grin and beginnings of a plan obliterated when he came around the garage and saw the car parked in front of his home. Aly’s sky-blue Honda Civic was situated along the left side of the stairs, leaving plenty of room for his truck, and she wasn’t inside the vehicle.

Fuck.

So much for starting things off on the right foot with Lacey.

Michael cursed as he drove into his driveway, threw the truck into park and killed the motor.

Once he’d climbed down from the rig and stepped around, he rushed to the stairs and took them two at a time. The minute he opened the door his eyes went to the coatrack.

Lacey’s coat was gone, as was the purse she’d left on the floor.

Shit.

Striding into the living room, he found Aly on her knees, head bowed, hands clasped behind her back. He couldn’t mask the anger in his voice and didn’t attempt to.

“What are you doing here?”

She kept her head bowed, although she shifted her weight as she was prone to do when she was nervous. “I wanted to speak to you, Master.”

It wasn’t necessary for her to elaborate. He knew why she wanted to speak with him. For weeks she’d hinted at wanting a second chance. Although their meetings in town appeared random, he was well aware they were orchestrated by Aly. Since he’d made a very clean and painful break from the relationship, he refused to give the woman what she wanted. He couldn’t live with a submissive who needed to be told how to dress, what to prepare for dinner or how to react to situations. Some Dominants didn’t mind that level of control. In fact, some wanted it for themselves. He wasn’t one of them. It was too much responsibility and delved into an entirely different, full-time lifestyle.

Not to mention, Aly was subservient to the core. She didn’t get jealous, angry or bitter and submitted entirely to the will of her Master. He’d heard rumors at the club when she got his attention, was aware that she was left in a free fall by a worthless Dom. It wasn’t common but it did happen.

He hadn’t realized just how deeply the scars went, however, until she revealed her needs after a few short weeks. By then she’d been all but hanging by a thread, desperate to hand the reins of her life over to someone else. He’d arrived home to find her in his playroom one afternoon, entirely naked, sobbing as if someone had died. It was then that he knew she needed far more than he could ever give her. As much as he cared for her, it wasn’t enough and never would be.