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Charles had introduced Dmitri to Chains, a local BDSM club, and mentored him. They had known Dmitri since he was in his twenties, and he had gone from a kid who struggled through life to a confident thirty-three-year-old man.
Her late husband would have been proud of the man, and Dom, Dmitri had become.
Mary entered the dining room and placed the salad on the antique table, knowing Presley’s intentions were good. Perhaps Presley thought Mary was missing something in her life.
Maybe she was.
She’d always known she’d lost a piece of herself when Charles passed away. In the year Charles was sick with terminal pancreatic cancer, she hadn’t been interested in anything sexual at all. She only wanted her husband well again. Then in the years since his death, she hadn’t watched a BDSM scene, except for a few adult movies, which were much different from being in the club and seeing a live display.
It’d been a long time since she had sex or any sexual physical contact, with or without the kink she had once craved and needed in her life. She sighed as she aligned the fork next to the plate and noticed Presley watching her. “All right, spit it out.”
Presley looked down, fiddling with a napkin. “Do you think you’ll ever date again?”
“I’ve already met the man I was meant to be with and he’s gone.” Presley’s eyes saddened, but Mary pushed past the thickness in her throat. “You don’t get two chances at something that beautiful.”
—
Forty-five minutes later, Elliott sipped his scotch on the rocks, leaning against the cool, dark brown leather chair in the sitting room. His stomach was full and he was now regretting that second helping.
Hearing voices in the distance, he glanced toward the kitchen, listening to Mary laughing with Presley as they finished cleaning up. He had offered to help, but both women responded with a resounding no. He smiled, letting the scotch warm him.
With the home’s open floor plan they could see each other across the way, and Mary clearly felt him staring—when she looked up directly at him all the blood in his body pooled into his cock. Brown eyes that held a gentle soul, yet a fiery confidence, watched him. Mary’s features were delicate;
she had a thin nose and long, shaggy brown hair that surrounded her oval face, with bangs that fell over her brow. The faint creases he noticed earlier around the corners of her eyes showed her age—early fifties, Elliott figured.
She looked at him for a moment longer before she turned to Presley and laughed at something Presley had said. Elliott’s world faded with the power of Mary’s smile. Maybe there was a touch of sadness to it, but she still radiated with life.
Mary’s beauty stopped the world from moving around him.
For the briefest of seconds her gaze returned to him, and Elliott restrained his groan. She heated perfectly under his stare, intoxicating him. Her dark, sensual expression made his thoughts turn wicked, including a tempting image of being on top of her and staring into those soft eyes while he thrust in deep. But every time she’d suddenly move her focus away she puzzled him.
Her blatant aroused reactions proved she’d played in the BDSM lifestyle before. Only an experienced submissive would react in the manner she had with a Dominant near. Though looking at her lacing her hands in front of her and the way she cast her gaze down, she almost portrayed an innocence about the lifestyle.
That was something he’d determine later. He turned to Dmitri. “Call me when the paperwork is ready and I’ll drop by your office and sign it.”
Dmitri watched Mary, then nodded to Elliott. “Perfect.”
Elliott had enough sense to know something stayed on Dmitri’s mind. Many years ago, they had met at a club while on vacation in San Francisco. Small world, he’d thought at the time. But they had exchanged cards with the thought of working together at some point. Within a year, they had done some business together, investing in a small marketing company out of New York. Then Dmitri had invited Elliott to his exclusive BDSM dungeon, Club Sin. When he had heard the members were in their twenties and thirties, Elliott graciously declined.
He wanted an experienced woman, and in his case, age mattered.
Elliott glanced to Mary and he all but salivated. That type of woman was what he wanted. Educated with a Dom. Experienced in the lifestyle. A woman whom he could arouse by not even touching her. A lady that blushed innocently, yet could also play with kink and own her pleasure.
Dmitri chuckled. “Interested?”
“It’s obvious, I take it?” Elliott murmured, then turned to Dmitri and said with a smile, “Is she single?”
“From what I know, I believe so.”
Meaning Dmitri knew she didn’t have a steady lover, but Elliott figured that also meant Dmitri wasn’t sure if Mary had a Dom. Emotion crossed Dmitri’s face that Elliott couldn’t quite place. He was curious now to learn more about her, but he also heard the women approaching, so he quickly asked, “Would my interest be all right with you?”
“Of course,” Dmitri replied with an arched brow. “A man would be good for her. A Dom would be even better.”
Before Elliott could dig in to that statement further, the women entered the room. He hastily downed his drink and then rose from his seat. “I could use another.” He smiled at Presley, then asked the group, “Would anyone else like an after-dinner drink?” Presley nodded, as did Dmitri. Then Elliott turned to Mary. She hadn’t taken her eyes off him. Her breath grew raspy and her cheeks were flushed. Intriguing. “Some wine, Mary?”
She licked her lips. “White, please.”
He couldn’t remove his focus from her damp lips, creating all sorts of naughty sexual images in his mind. Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, he turned to confirm the other drink requests, realizing he’d been caught.
