It was wonderful. The men seemed just as satisfied hanging out and spending time together with me as they were when we went down into the basement.
How had this happened?
I didn’t break under the impact of a crop or paddle when either of my partners wielded one. But this caring, attentive gesture? It threatened to break me completely. I refused to acknowledge how they made me feel. I had no choice but to stave off my emotions. The longer I held them off, the more time I could have with these men who seemed perfectly attuned to what I desired.
To what I needed.
The next weekend Clay was home, he sent me a text Saturday morning.
Clay: I have dinner reservations for us tonight. 6pm, meet at my place.
I paused. He hadn’t sent the message to the group text—it was just to me. Was this a date? And if so . . . what about Travis? Didn’t we need to tell him?
It took me forever to pick out what to wear. In the end, I went with a black crossover blouse, a pair of super skinny jeans, and nude pumps. At a quarter to six, I couldn’t wait any longer to see him. I scurried down the stone path to the gate, and then strolled across my driveway, heading for Clay’s front door.
I rang the doorbell, which was kind of funny since I’d been letting myself into his house for months, but it seemed weird to barge in without warning.
“Hi,” he said after he pulled the door open and gestured for me to come in.
He took me in from head to toe and clearly liked what he saw, and it was the same for me. He was dressed nicer than normal, wearing a lightweight sweater and slacks, rather than jeans and a t-shirt.
“Hi.” I surprised him by dropping a kiss on his cheek, fast enough I could pretend this was merely friendly and not because I was desperate to kiss him. “Am I underdressed?”
“No, you’re good.” He shut the door behind me, but kept his hand on the doorknob, suddenly distracted with a thought. “I have something for you though.”
“Yeah?” I followed him deeper into the house.
“Hold on, let me get it.” He disappeared into his bedroom while I remained in the living room. The television was on, and a bright orange octopus swam across the screen, followed by a woman telling the camera how smart the species was.
When he reemerged, I gave him a dubious smile. “You’re watching Animal Planet?”
His gaze flew to the television where the docuseries about the Georgia Aquarium was currently playing, and . . . was he embarrassed? His tone verged on defensive. “I turned it on for Noir.”
If that were true, it was super cute, but Clay was flustered. It told me something else was going on. “Is she interested in it?” I looked around for our black and white cat but didn’t find her. “Where is she?”
He stood frozen for a single breath, and then gave up. “Okay, I turned it on for me.” He rolled his shoulders back and met my gaze head-on. “You and Travis have a lot in common. It’s kind of dumb, but I thought maybe I could keep up.”
Oh, wow. There were those butterflies again, fluttering in my stomach and making me weak with desire. “It’s not dumb.”
No, it was romantic. He wanted to be into what we were into.
He tried to shift my focus away and held out the box he’d retrieved. It was medium-sized, square, and wrapped in silver paper, complete with a matching silver satin bow.
I mentally noted it was October, and my birthday wasn’t for several more months. “Did you get me a present?”
He shrugged. “They offered to gift wrap it.”
I took the box, utterly confused. “What’s this for?”
“Because you do nice things for me. I wanted to return the favor.”
Did he mean how I helped out with his house while he was away? “Bringing in your mail is no big deal. I’m happy to do it.”
He was obviously waiting on me to open it, and I was more than a little curious about what was inside, so I sat on the couch and got to work. The wrapping paper was thick, which should have been my first hint this was more than a polite ‘thank you’ gift.
I peeled back the paper and my hands stilled when the recognizable logo branded across the top of the box came into view. I said it the same way I’d say, you didn’t. “Clay.”
He waited like he was on pins and needles. “Open it.”
I almost didn’t want to. Like our relationship, I feared I’d fall in love with something I wouldn’t be able to keep, but my hands had a mind of their own. I lifted the lid and gasped. The pair of red leopard print heels were gorgeous and sexy, complete with black soles and the designer name printed in gold.