Yvette hooked her arm through Mac’s. Clarisse wanted to walk over and push her away from him.

Then Sully caught Clarisse’s eye from across the room. “Mac, bring me something to drink, please,” he ordered.

Yvette released his arm and he headed to the kitchen. Sully still talked to the woman, but his gaze never wavered from Clarisse.

Mac walked into the kitchen and fixed Sully a drink. “You okay, sweetie?”

“Yeah. Just going to stand here and stare for a while,” she tried to joke, her gaze still locked on Sully, unable to look away.

He patted her on the back before returning to Sully’s side. Sully took the drink, thanked him, then ordered him to kneel on the floor next to him. With that, he lifted an eyebrow at Clarisse before returning his full attention to Yvette.

Clarisse blushed.

If she didn’t know any better, it was as if he’d read her mind, had sensed her jealousy seeing the other woman acting that friendly with Mac.

Clarisse fixed herself a plate of food and leaned against the far counter to eat, out of sight of the living room. A moment later, Jenna walked in carrying a bottle of wine and looking for a corkscrew.

Clarisse helped her rummage through drawers, found it, and handed it to her. “Here you go.”

“Thanks.” She set the bottle on the counter to open it. “You’ve never seen a party like this, I bet.”

Her friendly smile couldn’t be denied a reply. Clarisse reached over to help steady the bottle as Jenna worked on the cork. “No, can’t say as I have.”

“We don’t bite.” She giggled. “Well, actually Yvette does bite, but only people who want to be bitten.”

“I’ll pass.”

As Jenna made progress with the cork, they shifted the bottle to give her a better grip. “So do I. I’m a sensual slut, not a pain slut,” she said and giggled again. The cork gave way with a pop. Jenna handed Clarisse the corkscrew. “Thanks for the help. Feel free to ask me anything, I like to talk about the lifestyle. Bob and I host the local Munch.” At Clarisse’s obviously confused look, Jenna smiled. “It’s like a vanilla dinner where we get together and eat and talk.”

Weird. This wasn’t scrapbooking or bowling. This was whips and chains. “Thanks, I’ll keep that in mind.”

Jenna returned to the living room while Clarisse finished her food.

Stay or go? She felt plain, frumpy and underdressed—

overdressed, actually—in her sweats and T-shirt. The women all looked beautiful, hair and makeup and nails done. All she’d done was run a brush through her hair and pulled it back into a ponytail.

She ducked outside through the back sliders and walked around the porch to the stairs. She had a load of laundry in the dryer that should be finished. She took her time sorting and folding, and then she grabbed paper towels and spray cleaner and started wiping down the washer and drier even though they didn’t need it. She cleaned the downstairs bathroom. She ran a bucket of mop water and started on the tile floor when she heard footsteps on the stairs.

The door opened. “You in here, sweetie?” Sully called.

She tensed. “Yeah, I’m here.”

He closed the door behind him and walked into the laundry alcove. “You don’t have to do this tonight,” he softly said.

Clarisse opted for forced chipperness. “That’s all right. No one will be down here tonight. I meant to do it today and got sidetracked.”

“It doesn’t need it.”

“Still has to be done.”

“Clarisse,” he firmly said.

She tensed and forced herself to keep breathing slowly and steadily. “What?”

“Please look at me.”

She turned. If only he wasn’t so ruggedly handsome. His good looks differed from Mac’s easy, open charm. Sully’s hard face spoke of determination and an iron backbone, his smiles warming his face when he chose to use them.

“Answer me truthfully. Are you okay?”

“Yeah. I’m just…easing into things.”

“I won’t let her touch Mac again.”

She blinked.

Sully smiled at her obvious surprise. “You looked like you wanted to rip her arm off.”

Clarisse blushed, grabbed the mop, and busied herself swabbing the floor. Not knowing what to say in reply, she kept her mouth shut.

* * *

Sully watched her, knew better than to push her. He hadn’t been sure he’d read her reaction correctly until he said that.

Without another word he returned to the party, an idea forming in his mind. She felt jealous, had feelings for Mac. He stifled his envy that those feelings weren’t for him.

He could, however, use it to his advantage.

By the time Clarisse returned upstairs, Sully had stripped Mac while Yvette tied Mike to one of the benches in the living room and started warming him up. Sully didn’t say anything to Mac about his brief talk with Clarisse. An hour later, while Doreen talked with Clarisse, Sully ordered Mac to fetch his wrist and ankle cuffs.

Doreen squealed. “Ooh! Sully’s going to play with Mac! I love watching them play!” Doreen had shed her blouse, but her bustier didn’t expose her breasts the way Jenna’s did. Like a high-heeled force of nature, she latched onto Clarisse’s arm and led her to the playroom, following Sully and the others.

Sully had counted on Doreen’s enthusiasm, from the way she’d befriended Clarisse, to get Clarisse into the playroom. If that hadn’t worked, he’d been prepared to play with Mac in the living room despite how it would change their routine.

Mac fetched the requested implements as Sully unbuttoned his shirt and draped it over a chair. He didn’t look at Clarisse, but caught glimpses of her standing off to the side, listening to Doreen’s nonstop, golf-whisper narration of events. He plugged his MP3 player into the small speaker system in the room and set it to one of his favorite scene mixes.

When Mac lay face-down on the bench, Sully clipped his wrist cuffs to it and knelt next to him so he could whisper in his ear. He knew Clarisse couldn’t hear him between the music and Doreen.

“I want you to call red tonight.”

Mac already wore his ball gag and looked at Sully with confusion clearly visible in his expression.

“Don’t question me, slave. When I switch from the cane to the singletail, give me a few strokes and then call red. Understand?”

Mac hesitated, then rotated his left hand, their signal for green or yes.

Patting him on the shoulder, Sully ignored the questions in Mac’s eyes and his arched eyebrow. He clipped Mac’s ankle cuffs to the bench and grabbed a light flogger to start their warm-up.

He fought the urge to hurry, hoping Mac didn’t sink so far into subspace he couldn’t remember his command. He took his time, checking in frequently while knowing that he’d owe Mac an apology and a make-up play session later. He paused at one point to reach between Mac’s legs and squeeze his balls.

Mac’s hips bucked against him, wanting more, wanting release.

Sully slapped him on the ass. “Not yet, slave. Later.”

* * *

Clarisse couldn’t tune out Doreen’s soft voice as she watched Sully play with Mac. There remained no doubt in Clarisse’s mind that Mac enjoyed it, but reconciling that with common sense and her own experiences still troubled her.

Sully’s back muscles rippled with every stroke as he alternated between using the flogger and sensuous strokes from his hands. Her breath caught in her throat.

“They look beautiful together, don’t they?” Doreen whispered.

“He gets Mac so deep into subspace it’s amazing. I wish I could do that, go deep like Mac does.”

Sully put down the flogger and picked up a cane similar to the one he used on Mac before. She winced as every hard stroke landed, but she watched how Sully alternated hard strikes across his ass with lighter ones, reminiscent of how Mac had demonstrated on her, across his shoulders and the backs of his thighs. After ten minutes of this, Sully switched to a four-foot whip.

Clarisse cringed. Correctly interpreting her reaction, Doreen patted her on the arm. “Mac loves this part. That’s his favorite one.”

Sully took a few practice strokes in the air, gauging his distance and stroke, before stepping in and nailing Mac in the ass several times in quick succession. Then Mac raised his left hand as far as the cuff would allow. He rapidly shook his fist up and down.

Sully immediately stopped. He removed Mac’s ball gag and bent in. Clarisse couldn’t hear them over the music. Sully looked at her.

“Please go into our bathroom and grab that tube of ointment off the counter, the one Mac uses on my leg.”

Clarisse raced to do it. By the time she returned, Sully had Mac’s right leg unclipped and stretched out, massaging it, but Mac’s ball gag was back in place.

She handed Sully the tube and watched as he squirted ointment in his hand and spent several minutes working on Mac’s calf. How did she reconcile that tender treatment with the sadistic scourging he’d administered him?

After several minutes, Sully lowered Mac’s leg. “Better, slave?”

Mac rotated his left hand.

“Do you want me to continue playing or stop?”

Mac rotated his hand again.

Sully rehooked Mac’s ankle cuff and picked up a flogger.

Clarisse returned to her place next to Doreen. After a few minutes, Sully leaned in and whispered something to Mac. Mac’s ass had started gyrating in the air by this point, his rigid cock desperate for release.

Whatever Sully said to Mac, it made the bound man moan loudly enough Clarisse could hear him over the music.

Sully returned to his place behind Mac, but as he did, he let his gaze knowingly settle on Clarisse for a moment before he turned and reached under Mac’s hips with his right hand. With his left hand, he started spanking Mac. Heat filled Clarisse’s face as she realized what he was doing—jerking Mac off.