Her next words were directed toward Skye. While it was unusual for Skye to be viewed as the easier choice for “normal” communication, she knew most people made that choice subconsciously. Otherwise known as that state between being actively aware you were doing it, and not admitting it to yourself.
“All right. Well…it’s good to see you both. I’ll remember that, about the phone. I’d better get over to the rendezvous point and see where Athena wants me.”
Someone unused to being around a deaf or mute person had to be given the time to process. It didn’t change the fact a retreatlike Bethany’s could make a deaf person feel more isolated in his own head.
But that only meant he had to keep trying to communicate. No way around it; a lot of the work was on the side of the person with the “handicap.” It might not seem fair, but he could be in the world or outside of it. Skye knew firsthand which decision was better in the long run. However, she also knew what it took to get there, which meant she was ready for his temper.
Tiger shook his head, indicating he wanted his say before she typed anything on her phone. “Telling someone about my hearing is up to me.”
He hadn’t let go of her wrist. Skye sent a pointed look that way and pantomimed a Psycho stabbing motion.Move it or lose it.
He blinked, but let go. She stuck with her frosty Helen voice. Though he was reading the words, not hearing them, the voice helped her project the tone in her expression, an important source of information for a deaf person. “The environment here tonight is no different from a club. Dom/sub protocols. Making everyone aware of any physical issues you have is important. Pride never trumps safety, does it?”
His jaw flexed. “You still took a choice away from me.”
“You may be right about that,” was her frank response, no apology. “But I was looking out for Bethany, too. She could have pulled one of her flying tackles, where she copped a piggyback ride.” Squashing her D-cup breasts against his back and wrapping her generous thighs around his hips. Skye had seen her do it before. “You might have flung her off like a snake dropping from a tree before you realized it was her.”
Though his expression remained dark, his lips twitched. Skye continued to type. “She’ll spread the word, and people will know not to sneak up on you. You have enough to handle tonight.”
His face shuttered. “Not much chance she’ll be grabbing that piggyback ride now. Rabbits bolt slower than she did.”
She put a hand on his chest and leaned into the contact, shifting to rest her shoulder where her hand had been. He could look down and see the screen as she typed. His breath was warm on her ear.
“You get used to it. You have to re-build relationships, and you’ll lose some.” She glanced up at him, noted the tightening of his lips, but continued, her fingers flying. “True friendships can weather it, be rebuilt. It just requires as much patience and caring on your side as it does willingness and commitment on theirs.”
She changed from a serious mien to an arch look as she typed another short paragraph. “When she leaves tonight, get in her way. Offer her that piggyback ride. Cart her to her car, give her a hug and a smile. Ask her how her night went and tap her phone to encourage her to tell you. You have to provide guidance.”
She swept her gaze over him. “You might get up close and personal with those D-cup breasts of hers. Some women are big into pity sex for the handicapped.”
The blunt words startled him enough he took an extra beat to read them. His gaze narrowed. “We don’t have that kind of relationship. I wouldn’t ever use her that way.”
Skye knew that wasn’t necessarily true. He had no idea what he might do if he was starved for touch, contact, connection. Some form of communication that broke the wall of silence.
She’d intended to shake him up, but their conversation had touched a nerve, opening an unexpected narrow window into her own past. A past she’d healed, resolved and goddamned dealt with.
Glancing down at her phone, she offered asorrymeme, a flower with the word printed below it. Then typed, “I know. I was trying to get you out of your own head. I took it a little too far.”
She didn’t like to think of how easy it would be for him to seek that comfort sex, if he saw Bethany at the end of the night. She knew the answer to that, didn’t she? She could always take him home herself.
He touched her shoulder. Her apology had been accepted. “I know you’re trying to help,” he said. “You are. I just don’t have a road map for this.”
“And you’re a control freak,” she responded on screen, giving him a half-smile. “You don’t like not being at the wheel. But at least I know you don’t have a problem with women drivers.”
He made a face. He still looked surly, but thoughtful, too. He picked up the duffel. “As Bethany said, we’re on a schedule. Lead on, Mistress. I’m here to serve.”
CHAPTER FIVE
An event coordinator would be meeting with the subs and models, giving them direction on what would be expected of them. Skye had met with her earlier to make her aware of Tiger’s issue. The woman had assured Skye she’d typed out her notes and would go over them with Tiger, one-on-one.
So there was no reason for Skye to hover. While Tiger went to the changing tent, she returned to her assigned tasks.
As she made adjustments to the programming on her drones for video footage collection, her mind returned to another sub. Maryshka.
After seeing him at the garage, Skye had followed up with the girl, telling her that Tiger was going through a normal grieving process. She’d recommended that Maryshka keep reaching out to him, while she’d work on him from another angle. Maryshka had been so relieved by what she’d perceived as a “progress” report, she’d given Skye a spontaneous hug, followed by a blush and a stammered apology.
Female subs. They could be truly adorable.
When it was time for the artists to select their canvases, Skye circled back to the area where that would be happening.