He caught one of her hands and brought it to his lips, placing a kiss in the center of her palm. “Then I’d be honored to join you.”
With the ease of a child picking up a doll, he swept her back into his arms and carried her to the tub to lower her in. The heat enveloped her and her aching muscles, inspiring a long, satisfied sigh. Once he had her safely immersed, he climbed in and settled behind her, letting her recline against his chest.
She caught their intertwined reflection in the mirrored wall at the foot of the tub. “The mirror isn’t steaming over.”
“They probably treat it with something so nothing interferes with the view. They think of everything here.” He kissed her shoulder. “Comfortable?”
She let her hands drift along the strong thighs that framed her. “You may need to carry me out afterward. I think my muscles have liquefied.”
“It would be my pleasure,” he said, his voice right next to her ear. “I’ll carry you anywhere you want to go.”
He reached for a sponge on the side of the bathtub and squirted it with vanilla-scented soap. With slow, methodical strokes, he began to wash her neck and shoulders, working the knots of tension from them. Her mind was a twisted mess, but the combination of shear emotional and physical exhaustion and Reid’s skilled hands were swiftly lulling her into a hazy, almost numb state.
He grazed a finger over the scar that marred the back of her left shoulder, and she momentarily tensed. But when he didn’t ask about it, she relaxed again, closed her eyes, and leaned forward so he could reach her back. “Aren’t I supposed to be doing this for you, Master?”
He chuckled, but continued washing. “You can remove that tongue of yours from your cheek, smart-ass. First of all, you’re not my slave. Even if this weekend were real, that’s not what I’m into. And secondly, you’re assuming I don’t get pleasure from taking care of you like this. Believe me, washing your naked body is no hardship.”
His hands slid over her rib cage, and she sank back against him while he scrubbed circles over her belly. She mulled over what he’d said for a moment. “What do you mean, that’s not what you’re into? I thought the whole slave thing was what this was all about.”
“I love taking sexual control of a woman—especially one who’s used to being in charge in the rest of her life. Love bringing her to a level of release she didn’t even know she could reach. But I’m not looking to take it outside of that realm or have a partner submit to me twenty-four seven like a lot of the people here. That holds no appeal for me.”
She chewed her lip, considering his answer. “So you’re just looking to have a good time with someone, then go home to your normal life.”
He sighed. “Pretty much. I’ve learned the hard way that relationships and this scene don’t mix well for me. But I can’t shut off the desire—it’s part of who I am. So yeah, now that I’m divorced, I’ll probably join a club and keep the play separate from the rest of my life.”
A bitter taste filled her mouth. “And keep it a secret from whoever you’re with?”
His hands paused, and she could feel him bristle beneath her. “No, despite what you thought happened when we were dating, I don’t cheat. All I’m saying is that I’ve done the marriage and commitment thing, I don’t need to do it again.”
She swirled her fingers in the bubbles. “And you think you can be happy just having random hookups at some club?”
His shrug sent a ripple through the water. “Works for Jace.”
She pursed her lips, not sure why Reid’s plan annoyed her so much. What did she care about how he chose to live his life? Her mind drifted to all the subs she’d passed in the club last night, all the women who had sent envious glances her way. Would one of those women be kneeling at his feet next weekend? The thought made her intestines knot.
“What’s running through that busy mind of yours?”
Her eyes traveled to the mirror and met his probing blue stare. She quickly shifted her focus to one of the candles on the side of the bathtub, scrabbling to come up with another thought to share besides the one she’d been having. “It amazes me that people can go into this kind of dynamic with strangers. I mean, for the dom it’s not as much of a risk, you hold the control. But for the sub… there’s so much trust that needs to be there. Even if I wasn’t dealing with my panic attacks, I can’t imagine willingly turning myself over to someone I didn’t know.”
He nuzzled the curve of her shoulder. “It’s definitely not something to enter lightly with strangers. If you ever get the urge to sub again, you can come to whatever club I join. I’ll make sure you’re well taken care of.”
“Thanks, but I’m not that girl anymore.” Even if she could get past her anxiety, she had no desire to live some clandestine double life. Growing up, she’d expended enough energy hiding her mother’s secrets and feeling ashamed. Never again would she be the subject of hushed neighborhood whispers.
No, after this weekend, her dalliance with sexual submission was done for good. She would move on and continue searching for the guy who would fit into the vision she had for her future. Nice suburban home, a few kids, maybe a dog—the kind of normal, respectable existence she’d only been able to glimpse from afar growing up.
“Who are you, then?” he asked, his voice quiet.
The question hung in the air, taunting her. How could she reconcile the woman she thought herself to be with the one who’d melted under the commands and hands of the man sitting behind her? One who’d let two men tie her up and enjoyed it? She shook her head, a lump lodging in her throat.
“Shh, never mind,” he said, apparently sensing her darkening mood. “No stress allowed in the bathtub.”
The sponge moved higher, over her navel, the ripples of her ribs, tickling the underside of her breasts. His movements were gentle, but not tentative—as if he sensed the only way to pull her from her spiraling thoughts was to draw her back into her senses. It was his gift and one of the reasons he’d been so addictive back when they’d dated. He’d always been able to quiet the storm for her, bring her into a place where all she had to do was listen to his commands and feel his touch. A welcome respite from the constant beehive of worries and responsibilities in her mind.
The mild abrasiveness of the sponge crested the curve of her breast and moved over the distended nipples. Darts of pleasure trekked from the point of contact outward, chasing the tension that had tiptoed into her tendons back into the shadows. She let out a little murmur of appreciation and stretched her leg onto the edge of the tub.
A rumble of Jacuzzi jets cut through the quiet room, startling her, and fat bubbles broke through the still water. “Uh-oh, I must’ve hit a button.”
He kept his attention on her breasts, dropping the sponge and soaping the swells with his agile hands. “It’s okay. Might as well enjoy all the tub has to offer.”