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Mel was pulled forward, her free hand was grabbed and she rebalanced being tugged in the middle.
She turned and looked up at an amused Wes. “No running away girls. Don’t make me AirTag you.” He tugged her hand and they fell into step. “I do believe we’ve been summoned to the swings.”
“Yes, Papa!” Sarah laughed, jumping into the sand pit of the swing set with both feet. “Papa, will you push us?”
“Do I ever tell my peanut no?”
“You tell me it's imposstible.”
“I couldn’t resist if I tried.”
Melody watched as Wes set Sarah on the swing seat, reminding her about keeping her butt on the seat properly and bending her knees for higher swings. Mel took the empty swing next to her, the park was empty for the early spring weather.
“C’mon, Melly!”
“Do I have to instruct you how to sit on a swing too, young lady?”
It’s the only way I’m getting any touch lately. “I can manage, sir.”
“Hmmm, close.” Wes’ muttered words weren’t pursued, and he stood behind Sarah’s swing, pulled her back, and let go of the chains with a gentle push to her back.
He stepped away, pushing Sarah when she swung back. “Remember to move your legs, and bend your knees. There you go, you got it!” He turned his attention to Melody who was digging her toe in the gravel. “Your turn.”
Melody’s protest died on her lips, his stern look and dark eyes made her heart flip and think of things she shouldn’t think about him. Or what darker promise that look could hold.
They still had boundaries. Even though it was becoming harder to keep them in place.
She gripped onto the chains, standing with the seat strapped across her ass. Wes closed in behind her, his hands wrapped around the swing above her hand and he pulled her back until her feet were off the ground.
“Hang on.”
“Always.” Grabbing onto the chains of the swing, she nodded, knowing it was the only thing she could do in every aspect.
Two days later, Melody was standing outside the main entrance to Surrender. It was a safe place to meet up with someone you’d never met. The security put in place was by far superior to the ‘warehouse’ facade it wears to blend into the street.
“Excuse me, are you Melody?”
Mel looked up from her phone at the call of her name. Her eyes met his and she gave him a polite smile. Friendly, but not too friendly. “Oh, yes. Are you?”
“Isaiah,” he confirmed, turning his phone to show her their text thread–as she required when they spoke to ensure identity.
“It’s nice to meet you.”
They walked in together, swiping their membership cards for entrance but didn’t need to secure personal belongings due to it being non-play hours and the only thing open was the water cooler by the bar for any day crew for maintenance.
“I sent you the list of non-negotiable guidelines.”
“Yes, I received them. They were well thought out.”
“Thank you, I find putting the lines in place helps keep everyone on the same page.”
“Agreed.” He sat on the stool next to her, signaling the bartender for two bottles of water. “My wife and I have been members since the remodel.” Isaiah looked behind Melody and down to the main floor. “The maroon and gold was a beautiful choice. My wife says it makes her feel like we’re in Europe again.”
“Yes, the designer did a beautiful job.” Lexi had drawn inspiration from her honeymoon with Noah. “I love the attention to detail.” She carefully left out that she knew the designer–Lexi–and was her catering company’s co-founder’s babysitter.
Who she knew didn’t make her who she was.
“I was looking for a woman around my wife’s height and build. She’s pretty and curvy like you–respectfully,” Isaiah spoke carefully. “She’s been expressing an interest in more restrictive bondage.”
