Healing the Wounds (30 page)

“Ah, but Christmas in July is such a cliché, and I hate to be boring.” William winked at her and projected innocence at Henry. Stepping forward, he let Jay close the door. “If your girl’s going to call me Santa, I can’t arrive without looking the part and bearing gifts. Imagine the disappointment on her sweet face.”

“Gifts are entirely unnecessary, Will, but I won’t turn them away.” Henry leaned to his right. “Is that a Graham’s port?”

“Mm-hmm. A thirty-year tawny for us.” William raised his arm, displaying the bottle, and waggled his fingers, making the dangling bag dance. “And something sweet for the young ones.”

The bag was suddenly the most important object in the room, if the speed at which Jay’s head turned was any indication. She stopped herself from snickering at his wide-eyed interest.

“Yes, because what they need most is more indulgence.” Henry’s dry tone made William laugh. “Jay, please take Will’s gifts to the kitchen. The port should be fine on the counter. The bag—” He looked to William.

“Needn’t be refrigerated, either. The chocolates ought to keep as they are.”

Jay loosed the barest hint of a moan as he accepted the bottle and the bag. Loot in hand, he headed toward the kitchen.

Henry chased him with his voice. “No sampling yet, my boy.”

“Yes, Henry.” Jay disappeared around the corner. He’d find an excuse to busy himself for a few minutes.

Alice folded her hands behind her back. Her turn. She’d agreed to this game. Santa wasn’t likely to turn her down, but the nervous thrill of waiting to be picked for dodgeball, of standing in the hall as a professor posted grades, soaked her in a burst of adrenaline.

Henry drew her forward. “The most special woman in my life feels she owes you a debt, Will.”

Aside from an eyebrow raise, William gave zero feedback. Damn Neutral Mask 101, the intro class for all dominance majors.

“I see.” He tucked his Santa hat in his coat pocket while he studied her face.

He scanned her body once, a casual glance, and with less of her on display than he’d seen at the club. No cause for embarrassment, not in front of a man who’d seen Henry and Jay make her climax in less than a minute.

“I’m owed no debt, but I’m happy to accept her gratitude in whatever way she feels the need to offer it.”

“I thought you’d see it that way, Will. As it happens, she has chosen to offer you a novice submissive for the evening.” Henry clasped her shoulders, his fingers firm on her collarbone, thumbs rubbing her back. “May I introduce you to Alice?”

“Mine, Henry? For the evening?” William’s thick blond eyebrows soared. “I can’t imagine you allowing
that
even if I’d found the bastard a shallow grave to lie in.”

“No, not even then, Will.” Henry’s voice was quiet but unyielding. “Domestic play. Victor’s rules, you remember?”

William nodded, his face and voice uncharacteristically serious. “With the utmost respect and restraint, Henry. On my honor.”

“Then I’ve no doubts all will be well.” Henry squeezed her shoulders and released her. “Go ahead, sweet girl.”

She stepped forward, breathed deep, and spoke her first words to her temporary dominant. “May I take your coat, sir?”

“Are you certain you can reach, little one?” William lifted her hands.

He dwarfed her. She wasn’t tiny, but she was used to Henry and Jay, and he had as much height on them as they had on her. The top of her head met his chin.

“You won’t need a footstool?” He smiled, ducking his head. “Henry must have a pedestal here with your name on it.”

Laughter threatened. He was as bad as Jay. “No, sir. I can reach.”

“All right then, little one. You may take my jacket, with my thanks.” He released her hands.

She moved behind him and curved her fingers under the jacket collar with only minor tremors. William’s broad back hid Henry from her, though he’d watch her closely, at least at first, ready to smooth over any confusion or nerves.

William held his arms out and down. “But we’ll stop this
sir
nonsense immediately, pet. We’re not so formal as all that, are we? I thought we were friends.”

She stripped the suit coat down his arms and clutched it. A misstep so soon. She’d promised herself perfection.

William turned and lifted her chin. “You’ll call me Santa, little one, else I’ll wonder if you’re doing so in your head where I can’t hear you. We can’t have that, can we?”

“No, sir—no, Santa.” Embarrassment swamping her, she curled her arms around his jacket. She’d never live their introduction down. Twenty years from now—yeah. Yeah.

Confident contentment rallied. Twenty years from now, she’d still be calling Henry’s best friend Santa. She’d still be Henry’s sweet girl. She had no doubt the grin on her face rivaled Jay at his goofiest.

“Ahh, what delightful color in your cheeks.” William paused. If he’d recalled the color in her other cheeks on the night they’d met, he had the sense not to mention it. “Go and put my coat away, little one, and then come back to me.”

“Yes, Santa.”

He touched her arm as she turned. “First, though, you’ll tell me your safeword.”

“It’s ‘pistachio,’ Santa.”

He repeated it, and she nodded.

“All right. On your way, pet.”

She eavesdropped on Henry and William’s conversation as they moved to the living room. Henry sounded happy to reconnect with an old friend. He’d devoted so much of his time to her in the last year, and she’d only recently understood how much. He’d probably practiced with Jay, held run-throughs before every one of her contract nights with them the way the three of them had done last night to prepare for William’s visit.

She was as important—no, more important to him than William was, even if William had been his friend since who knew when. Henry would’ve made certain he and Jay were properly prepared and in sync. Like they’d been for her birthday.

Shifting her weight forward, she grabbed a padded hanger from the rod in the armoire. Her thong stretched and rubbed with her. Mmm. Henry always thought ahead. Now he had her anticipating. She hung William’s jacket and closed the doors before crossing the room with quick steps.

Jay had done impressive work this afternoon. While she’d played kitchen helper, he’d rearranged the living room to Henry’s specifications. The coffee table had been draped in bright tablecloths, layers of overlapping colors matching the large floor pillows surrounding the table and the slipcovers thrown over the chairs and couch, which had been pushed back to create a floor-level dining space. Moroccan, Henry had said, though the menu was more traditionally Spanish.

She paused to let Jay pass her, tray in hand, before making her way to William’s side. Her drop from standing to waiting pose wasn’t as graceful as Jay’s. Jesus, how did he do that so naturally while he balanced dinner on one hand?

But William smiled and stroked her hair, so she couldn’t have done too badly. She laid her hand on his knee and waited.

“A question already, little one?” He lifted her chin.

“For your comfort, Santa.”

“A topic I take great interest in.” He tickled her jawline.

Unusual, but not uncomfortable. Odd to have a man who wasn’t Henry or Jay touching her so familiarly, even one who wouldn’t expect anything when the night was over.

“Ask, then, pet.”

“May I take your shoes and bring you a drink?” Her head felt stuffed with knowledge of the menu. “We’ve a fine dry sherry, a Manzanilla.”

She’d practiced her pronunciation, at first as a way of teasing Henry, who’d laughed long and hard when Jay had pulled the bottle from the refrigerator and asked what “man vanilla” was and whether it was good for licking off breasts. Jay’s wink and sly grin told her he’d known exactly how far off his pronunciation was. He took his post as Henry’s little comedian very seriously. Was that irony?

“Both delightful suggestions, little one. I see we’ll get along famously. You may, in fact, do both.” William lowered his hand from her face.

She slipped off his loafers and carried them to the door.

The kitchen next, where Jay poured two glasses of sherry.

“I pulled the cork while you were getting your temporary transfer,” he teased in a quiet undertone. “So it’s been resting a few minutes already. If you come back for a refill, don’t forget to return the bottle to the bucket. It’s gotta stay under room temperature for the best flavor.”

She bumped his hip. “I know, goof. I listened to Henry this afternoon, too.” Across the room, their lover relaxed into his cushions and laughed at a quip of William’s. Beautiful. “But thanks for the reminder, sweetheart.”

Jay bent toward her ear. “That’s senior sweetheart to you.” He grinned before dancing off with another tray and Henry’s glass.

She followed with the glass for William.

“No, no main meal this evening, Will.” Henry accepted his glass from Jay and lifted it to his nose. He took a breath and a sip. “I thought we’d dine tapas style tonight.”

Alice knelt, offering the sherry with her hands cupped beneath the glass, thumbs atop the base for stability. Jay had spread the trays on the coffee table, displaying all of the bite-size treats she’d helped Henry make, the combinations of cheeses and olives and figs and ham and sausages and mushrooms. The list seemed endless, though they’d limited the menu to a restrained half-dozen recipes. All made to serve well at room temperature, so no one needed to tend the stove away from the conversation, Henry had said. Little appetizers. Finger foods.

“An excellent choice, Henry. I’ve often found eating with one’s fingers to be a delicious experience.” William took the sherry, raised her hand to his lips, and kissed the tips of her fingers. “Especially when one’s fingers are so lovely.”

He resettled himself on the pillows, one propped against a chair as a backrest. “Tell me, little one, did you have a hand in preparing this feast?”

“As an under-chef, Santa.”

William’s eyes sparkled.

She had five seconds to realize why before he pounced.

“Ah, so you spent the day under the chef? And left Henry’s poor boy to finish by himself?”

He tsked twice while her cheeks heated. If he only knew what she’d been doing five minutes before he arrived. Or did he? The man had been friends with Henry through an uncountable number of sexcapades. He recognized freshly fucked on a girl.

She schooled her face to blandness and mustered her driest tone. “A girl can learn a lot working under the chef, Santa. I can’t imagine anywhere I’d rather spend the afternoon.”

William barked out a laugh so loud it startled her. “Henry, you’ve found another comedian. I swear you’re building a clown troupe to entertain yourself. Do they juggle and tame animals, too?”

Henry stroked Jay’s bare chest, coaxing him to nestle deeper into the pillows. “Not as yet, no, Will. But they’re both wonderful acrobats. Quite…flexible.”

Jay preened under the attention.

Her shoulders twitched as she stifled a laugh.

Will gave an exaggerated groan. “I cry peace. At least until I’ve tried this delicious-looking assemblage.” He surveyed the table.

She waited for her cue.

“The bacon wrap first, little one.”

She retrieved a bacon wrap and offered it to William, one hand on the toothpick and the other cupped beneath the appetizer.

For such a bear of a man, he took it delicately between his teeth and chewed slowly, savoring the flavor, before declaring it a success. “Was this a piece you made, little one?”

“No, Santa.” The almond-and-cheese-stuffed dates with bacon around them had been the last menu item to be prepared. Henry had sent her and Jay off to shower and finished them himself.

“No?” William patted her shoulder. “Then you pick me out your favorite. You must have had a taste or two in advance.”

She relaxed into her role as a charming-but-submissive dinner companion, catching snatches of Jay’s interactions with Henry on the other side of the low table but focusing on William. Their guest’s wishes were hers tonight. Playing with him was fun and low pressure. Her anxiety drifted away long before she realized it. William was witty, kind, and gentle. No wonder his friendship with Henry had lasted so long. Not that she knew how long, exactly.

She accepted a cherry tomato stuffed with an olive puree—her work—from William, nibbling and teasing his fingers as she considered the question. Finishing the treat, she raised her gaze to wait for another command.

He shook his head in three slow movements. “Alice, little one, you’ve something on your mind.”

Christ. Had he and Henry learned attentiveness together?

William laid a hand on her head. “Tell me your thoughts, pet.”

“Just silly thoughts, Santa.” It wasn’t her place to ask him about Henry. If she wanted to ask those questions, the decision of whether she ought to have the answers lay in Henry’s hands.

“Wonderful. I adore silly thoughts. I entertain them myself all the time. Tell me yours, and I’ll be doubly entertained.” His voice teased, but he held her gaze with serious intent.

Withholding her answer might disrupt the entire night.

“I was wondering how long you and Henry have been friends. How you’d met.” She shook her head. “But I don’t need to know. It was idle curiosity, Santa.”

William looked past her. “Henry, I’m heartbroken. You haven’t shared the tale of our meeting? The adventures of our youth? However could you be filling your time together if not with that? Surely you won’t mind if I rectify the situation.”

“Be my guest, Will.” Even when she couldn’t see Henry, his familiar baritone quelled her doubts. “Do try and stick to the truth, if you can manage it. Your flair for the dramatic is legendary.”

“Embellish a tale? Me? Nonsense. I’ll tell it as simply as possible.” William paused, pursing his lips. “To start, I’ll need crucial information from you, Alice.”

“From me?” She couldn’t possibly hold key details for a story about how William and Henry met.

“Indeed. Quite crucial. When were you born?”

She blinked before rattling off the date on automatic pilot.

“Excellent. I believe I recall Jay’s birthdate, so we’re ready.” William sipped his sherry and cleared his throat. “As our story begins, young Jay has mastered the art of toddling a few steps before falling on his ass. A fine ass, undoubtedly, but many years away from the delectable vision it is now.”